#it’s dark but damne is there a big different between his and Newt

[flock-talk]

Accidental choanal slit shot

[greenthena]

Metatron is the Murder Hornet

Hear me out. The Metatron is a bitch no matter what. Way back before the bookshop burned, he was a manipulative twat to Aziraphale, but we only ever saw him as a Wizard of Oz style giant floating head. So when we meet The Metatron's corporation is S2 E6, we assume that this is the man behind the curtain, yes? This is the "heavenly" authority who stands between God and the rest of the angels. Are you with me so far? So tell me, why is he wearing Hell's color palette? Black topcoat over a black (or at least very dark gray) sport jacket. Even his shirt has black stripes. His tie is black with his signature sapphire blue sigil design. You know why? Because The Metatron is a demon. Now that I've probably pissed off about half of the fandom, let's dive in.

I'm going to accept that the corporeal form of The Metatron that we meet in S2 E6 is the man behind the curtain. But I'm wondering if, in the same way that the Wizard of Oz floating head spectacle is just a projection the actual wizard (a two-penny magician from Kansas), the Floating Head Monstrosity (FHM) is a projection The Metatron has rigged up rather than The Metatron himself. Essentially, the FHM is the projected "essence" of the asshat with whom Aziraphale spoke before the bookshop fire, the same one who wanted to discipline Gabriel and strip him of his memories. And if it is merely a projection, like the Wizard of Oz floating head, the man behind the curtain is likely in a different physical space.

If The Metatron can control the FHM remotely that suggests that he (the corporeal form or spiritual essence of the Metatron) isn't necessarily stationed in Heaven. Perhaps he can't even get into Heaven, but has managed to project his presence there to manipulate the Heavenly Host throughout the course of history.

Sidestep along with me while I take a quick detour. I promise it's relevant and necessary to understand the implications of The Metatron's arrival in Soho. (But I'm a demon. I might be lying.) Good Omens relies heavily on mirroring* as a narrative technique. One of the most obvious places we see this structure is in character sets: Crowley and Aziraphale, Newt and Anathema, Shadwell and Tracy, Nina and Maggie, Gabriel and Beelzebub. The character sets function as mirrors of one another (angel and demon, witch and witchfinder), while simultaneously reflecting other character sets in the story (Nina and Maggie reflect Crowley and Aziraphale, etc.) But we also see it repeatedly through plot structure--the pair of 1941 flashbacks in S1 and S2; the way S2 begins with Azirphale moving toward Crowley and ends with him pulling away. My personal favorite reflected imagery in the whole damn show is when Aziraphale shields Crowley from the first rain in Eden and Crowley shields Aziraphale from the celestial hailstorm Before the Beginning.

Alright, let's re-route back to Soho, to The Metatron's introduction in S2 E6 and how it embodies mirrored structure. The first shot we get of The Metatron in Soho in S2 E6 is when he's buying a cup of coffee from Nina. He's not actually identified as The Metatron in this scene, and Nina just views him as a regular customer. Next, we see him enter the bookshop and approach the Archangels, none of whom seem to know who he is. In fact Michael just assumes he's a human, tries to shoo him away, and even asks him, "And who are you?" The Metatron never gives his name; instead he presses the angels, "You don't know me?" He then addresses Crowley, "What about you, demon? Do you know me?" It's at this juncture that Crowley identifies him as the big giant floating head, and Aziraphale, in a rush of comprehension shouts, "Oh, The Metatron!"

This scene's other half is the introduction of Bildad the Shuhite in the Job flashback sequence. Crowley presents himself to Job and Sitis, who do not recognize him. When questioned about who he is, he says to Sitis, "You tell me." Sitis proceeds to identify as him Bildad the Shuhite. Crowley shrugs and agrees to the suggestion. This mirroring of dialog shows us that in both scenarios, there's deception in the presented identity. Just as we can't trust that Bildad the Shuhite is who is says he is, we similarly can't trust The Metatron's identity at face value.

When it comes right down to it, The Metatron is a pretty sketchy character. During his S1 interaction with Aziraphale, our angel doesn't even know who he is. The Metatron has to introduce himself as the Voice of God, a go-between, if you will, whom Aziraphale, in all his ageless time in the universe, has never even met or heard of. Dodgy? You betcha. When we see him in the Gabriel trial sequence during S2, he's just one of the several floating heads overseeing the progress of Armageddon Round Two. We're able to gloss over the fact that he's presented as a floating head fairy, because all the angels appear as floating heads in this sequence. However, unlike Uriel, Michael, Saraquel, and Gabriel, we never see The Metatron interact with the other angels in anything resembling a corporeal form.

So with this evidence, let's return to mirroring structure as a narrative device: a Clue to point us to the crux of the deception that The Metatron is performing. But to get there, we'll need to look at the reflected plot beat for context.

At the end of S2 E5, Crowley needs to get into Heaven to access information about Gabriel. Problem is, since he's a demon, he can't just waltz into the Heaven-Hell-evator and go to the up. He needs an angel to escort him, so he tricks our beloved Inspector Constable Muriel into arresting him: "I'm a demon with knowledge of a crime against Heaven. I demand that you arrest me!" Crowley uses the art of deception to sneak his way into the Heavenly hive.

Once in Heaven, when Muriel starts to fret that she's been tricked and will get in trouble for bringing a demon into Heaven, Crowley tells her, "Angels are like bees, fiercely protective of their hive if you're trying to get inside. Once you're in....I mean....is it even faintly possible that an unauthorized demon might be just wandering around in Heaven unescorted? Bees." Muriel then worries over Crowley's outfit, telling him he looks like a murder hornet, so Crowley changes into his most wonderful and excellent angel disguise.

Still with me? Have a gold star to match Crowley's nail polish.

Crowley's gambit to get into Heaven is a clever tactic, no doubt, and necessary for the final beats of the narrative. But I believe it's also there as the first half of a mirrored plot point that we will see play out in S3. Ya see, Crowley's not a murder hornet. He doesn't infiltrate Heaven to plunder their proverbial food stores or to destroy the hive. He does his quick bit of reconnaissance and is on his way. I think Crowley's ploy ultimately functions as foreshadowing for the real murder hornet: The Metatron.

To get his full essence into Heaven, his spiritual body and not just his projection, The Metatron needs an angelic escort. That's why he's so insistent that Aziraphale joins him on his journey up to Heaven. He needs an angel--one he perceives as an easy target--to break him into the hive. And Aziraphale fits the bill. He's vulnerable, having been implicated in the business with Gabriel, which could earn both him and Crowley extreme sanctions, being struck from the Book of Life. So The Metatron coaxes and manipulates Aziraphale to accompany him to Heaven, implicitly reflecting the way in which Crowley manipulated Muriel into arresting him and accompanying him as his Heavenly escort.

Do I still believe that The Metatron manipulates Aziraphale in order to divide the angel and the demon who, when working together, can produce miracles of un-paralleled power. Oh, hell yes! But that's not something only Heaven would want to mitigate. The sheer miracle force Crowley and Aziraphale manifest when working together is a threat to any oppressive structure that wants to consolidate power, and that certainly includes Hell. The fact that The Metatron realizes he can separate the angel and the demon in the same stroke as infiltrating Heaven is icing on the cake.

So there ya go. That's all I've got for today. Is The Metatron a Demon? Honestly, I don't know. But it's too interesting a theory for me to leave it alone.

*Please note, I'm intentionally using the term mirroring rather than chiastic structure to make this analysis. I deliberated for a while, but decided that it'd be a little loosey-goosey in this situation. So, yes, I am aware of chiastic structure and it's use in Good Omens, I just don't think this quite matches up.**

[thebadgerclan]

Harry Potter Masterlist 2

FIRST MASTERLIST HERE

** indicates smut

Harry Potter x reader

Self-Critical- After a raid goes wrong, Harry finds solace in your arms and the bath...

Better**- Your plans got rained out, but you don’t mind...

Better Than Treacle**- Better than treacle, now that’s saying something...

Safe Now- When he’s with you, he knows he’s safe...

Secrecy- It has to stay between you, it just does...

On The Line- Harry won’t risk your life...

Wrong Order- Harry doesn’t regret last night at all...

Caught- Sex in your parents’ house isn’t a good idea...

Just Be Yourself- Harry gets some relationship advice from his godfather...

Under The Stars- A warm summer night under the stars...

My Baby- Sometimes, Harry needs to hear how much you love him...

In Time- It doesn’t feel real yet, but it will, in time...

Just Another Teenager- Harry’s just another teenager...

Pretty Damn Cool- Harry teaches you to cast a Patronus...

Hermione Granger x reader

SFW Alphabet

NSFW Alphabet**

Fred Weasley x reader

A Little Bit Of Fun**- Fred decided to have a little fun with you today...

Perfect**- There are so many words to describe your boyfriend...

Sweet- Complementary desserts and diamond rings...

George Weasley x reader

For Years- He’s waited for 2 years, he’ll love you for so many more...

Pay Attention- George can’t seem to pay attention at Order meetings...

SFW Alphabet

NSFW Alphabet**

Flying- You conquer your fear of flying...

Cat and Mouse- George thinks your costume is positively adorable...

Charlie Weasley x reader

Being Married To Charlie HCs

Charlie As A Dad HCs

Domestic Life w/ Charlie HCs

Dating Charlie HCs

Bill Weasley x reader

Being Married To Bill HCs

Smut HCs**

Yet**- You haven’t gone that far yet, but tonight, you will...

Oliver Wood x reader

Mo Leannan- Oliver’s training sessions run late...

The Alchemist- He’s not the best with words, but he’ll tell you how much he loves you every day...

Not A Beater- Oliver isn’t a beater, that’s for damn sure...

Not As Beautiful As You- Oliver takes you to a beautiful waterfall, but it’s not the most beautiful thing there...

Busy Week- You’ve both been so busy and you miss your boyfriend...

Victory**- You help Oliver celebrate after winning the Quidditch Cup...

Tom Riddle x reader

The Only Exception- Tom doesn’t care that you’re muggle born

The Dark Lord and His Dark Lady- While he sometimes doubts, you are his and he is yours...

Anniversary- Yours and Tom’s third anniversary...

Draco Malfoy x reader

A Different Side- Draco can let his walls down around you...

The Price Of Being A Malfoy- You’re everything his family isn’t...

Lucius Malfoy x reader

Real Love- Lucius truly loves you...

Regardless- Lucius doesn’t care what anyone else thinks...

No One Better- He thinks that after all he’s done, you deserve better...

Work Of Art- Your art is the most beautiful he’s ever seen...

Satisfied**- Lucius’ cock always leaves you satisfied...

Whenever You’re Ready- Lucius adores you in every single way, but he’ll wait until you’re ready...

Being Insecure About Small Breasts w/ Lucius**

Heal Your Broken Heart- Your heart’s been broken, but Lucius wants to fix it...

Sex w/ Lucius HCs**

Day Off**- Lucius takes a day off, and spend it teasing you...

Never Felt Like This- Lucius has never felt like this about anyone...

All Yours- Lucius gets jealous, even though you’re all his...

Star- Lucius never realized how famous you are...

I Am Yours- You’re disheartened when you find out that Lucius has mistresses, but he is yours and yours alone...

SFW Alphabet

Watch Yourself**- When you’re feeling down, Lucius shows you just how perfect you are...

NSFW Alphabet** 

Lucius w/ a Virgin Reader HCs**

Lucius Comforting a Sad Reader HCs

Jealous/Possessive Lucius HCs

Ruined News- His actions ruined your good news, not that he’d care at this point...

Kissing HCs

Lunch Break**- You visit Lucius on his lunch break...

Oral HCs**

Pretty Girl**- You like it when Lucius tells you how well you’re doing...

All Of You**- You’re ready to give Lucius all of you...

So Good**- His teasings fell so good, but you need more...

Body Worship HCs**

Lucius As A Soft Dom HCs**

Collar- Picking out your first collar...

Rules**- You broke a rule...

Newt Scamander x reader

Second Niffler- Newt and Phil see your form for the first time...

Never Felt Happier- Newt has never been happier than he is right now...

Sham- Newt will remind as many times as he has to: you are not a sham...

Always Protect You- Newt won’t let anyone or anything hurt you...

Not Always Innocent- Newt always assumes they’re innocent...

A Few Drinks- After a few drinks, Newt has to remind you that you’re together...

Still Like You More- Newt is afraid to take you into the case...

A Fire Burning In My Heart- You feel exactly what the lyrics say...

Trying To Tell You- All week, you’ve tried to tell him...

Racing Hearts- You make his heart race, and he makes yours race...

His Shirt**- Newt can’t resist you, seeing you in his shirt...

That Time Of The Month-Newt takes care of you during your period...

Take Care Of My Baby**- When Newt wakes up hard, you take care of him...

Pretty Kitty- Animagi take on traits of their forms, but Newt doesn’t know about yours...

Lonely- Newt’s been working constantly on his book...

Lost Niffler- A lost niffler leads to a new relationship...

Jealous of the Niffler- He knows it’s silly, but he’s still jealous...

Cedric Diggory x reader

I Know I’m In Love- Cedric had an amazing afternoon...

Make A Move- He knows how you feel, but he’s waiting for you to make the first move...

Back To Her- He was so scared he wouldn’t come back to you...

A Bit Nervous- Cedric’s a bit nervous to ask you to the Yule Ball...

Spicing Things Up**- It might not have been a very productive conversation, but you’ve certainly spiced things up...

Life After- You both dream of a life after the war...

Broom Cupboard- The Head Boy and Girl caught snogging...

NSFW Alphabet**

SFW Alphabet

Here (TW: ABUSE MENTIONS)- Your brother shows up at Hogwarts...

The Golden Boy’s First**- Cedric’s first time...

Neville Longbottom x reader

December Afternoons- A picnic in the snow...

Spin The Bottle- Fred and George introduce a muggle party game...

Soul Marks and Nifflers- He was afraid he’d never find you...

SFW Alphabet

NSFW Alphabet**

Staying In**- The two of you stay in today...

Lily Evans x reader

New Record**- You’ve never done 5 before...

Chilled- Quidditch in the cold...

Oral HCs**

Braids and Patroni- Lily braids your hair while you work on your homework...

Burnt**- You get a bit distracted while Lily’s baking...

Broken Hearts and Friendships- You won’t put her through that stress anymore...

SFW Alphabet

NSFW Alphabet**

James Potter x reader

Dating James HCs

Best/Worst Things About James HCs

Serious James HCs

Domestic Life w/ James HCs

Oral HCs**

Sirius Black x reader

The Man I Fell In Love With**- He’s changed, but he’s still the man you fell in love with...

Got It Bad- Though Gryffindor lost, Sirius is extraordinarily happy...

Home Safe- They both come home that night...

Her First Match- You wouldn’t miss this match for the world

Handsome- You see Sirius shirtless...

Distracted- Your thoughts are anywhere but the meeting...

Part 2: Puppy**- Sirius knows how to please you...

Oral HCs**

Want Him**- He wants you and you want him...

First Christmas After- His first Christmas as a free man...

Take Care Of You**- Sirius needs you to take care of him...

Jealous/Possessive HCs

Blankets- The heat’s out, but you don’t mind...

Sentenced- Halloween night in Godric’s Hollow...

Starlight- Sometimes, Sirius can’t believe he’s really home...

Padfoot’s Lament- Now he’s free, but you are gone...

A Nap, Interrupted**-  Sirius interrupts your nap, but you’re not upset...

My Idiot- Sirius thought it was a good idea to climb the Whomping Willow

Our House, Our Home- Your house doesn’t smell like home, which distresses your Omega...

Picking Out Your Baby’s Name w/ Sirius

Sirius Black Reacting To You Telling Him “I Don’t Date People Prettier Than Me”

Convince Me- He’ll spend the rest of his life convincing you he’s not a player if that’s what you want...

My Good Puppy**- Sirius’ behavior has earned him a reward...

All I Need- You don’t need dates or fancy dinners...

Seconds Away- Death was seconds away from both of you...

Face**- Sirius wants you to sit on his face...

1,095 Days- Three years, and this is how you’re repaid...

SFW Alphabet

A Hero’s Death- Sirius finds out what really happened to Regulus...

Return The Favor**- Sirius’ stamina is a bit low, but you don’t mind...

Can’t Hurt You Here- He doesn’t quite believe it yet, but nothing can hurt him here...

Different Scent- Sirius comes home, but your scent is different...

The Art of Distraction- Sirius is infinitely skilled in the art of distraction...

Hellscape- These raids are dangerous...

Brother’s Best Friend- Dating your brother’s best friend, what could go wrong?

Out In The Open- It’s all out in the open now...

Enjoy The View- You get a glimpse of your man fresh out of the shower...

Failed Exam- He’ll always be there to make you feel better...

Remus Lupin x reader 

Rough and Hard**- As it turns out, Remus isn’t always so tender...

Hurt (platonic)- When you’re hurt on a mission, Sirius jumps to a conclusion...

Vacation**- A week of relaxation...

Dating Remus HCs

Creatures Of The Night- You’ve known since you met...

Best/Worst Things About Remus HCs

Moony’s Needs**- Moony needs you...

Part 2: Pack- You’re part of his pack...

Domestic Life/ Kids w/ Remus HCs

Being Insecure About Small Breasts w/ Remus

Confident, Lycanthropy Accepting Remus HCs

Dating Remus Since 4ht Year & Being Couple Goals HCs

Oral HCs**

The Rest Of Your Life- Graduation’s almost here...

Getting Eaten Out From Behind HCs**

Mornings w/ Kids HCs

Tomorrow Isn’t Promised**- Tomorrow isn’t promised, but right now, you can push those thoughts aside...

Spanking In The Dorms/Prefect’s Bathroom HCs**

Sex At Hogwarts HCs**

Recuperation-Like every month, you care for your lover after the full...

My Forever- You’re his forever, he knows that for certain...

Honeymoon HCs

The Marauders Coming To Visit Your New Baby HCs

Her Big Bad Wolf- The annual Gryffindor Halloween Party...

The Healer’s Day Off- Every month, you take time off to care for you love...

Scents- Your scent changed, and Moony isn’t quite sure why...

Grind**- Remus finds you when you don’t show up for dinner...

The Forest- A trip into the forest gone wrong...

Mine Alone**- He’ll let him watch, but you’re his and his alone...

Pink- It happened with no words...

Nicknames- Remus discovers your new favorite nickname...

Panda In The Forest- This bear definitely doesn’t belong here, but Moony knows who it is...

Vulnerable**-Sometimes, Remus can let himself be vulnerable...

Transformation- Remus is suspicious of how much time you’re spending with Sirius...

Everything To Me- Remus’ insecurities get to him, but you remind him that he is everything to you...

After The Battle- Remus comes to you after the battle...

Your Kiss- The first kiss of many...

Provide For You- You have more than enough money to provide for him...

NSFW Alphabet**

Beautiful Body- After someone comments on your body, Remus helps you feel better...

SFW Alphabet

Months- Remus has liked you for months, but he’s shy...

Professor Lupin’s “Assistant”**- An evening spent between Professor Lupin and his “assistant”...

What You Want To Call Me**- Remus isn’t what you want to call him...

More Pregnant**- Remus know he can’t get you more pregnant, but at the moment, he doesn’t care...

Safe and Loved- After the full moon, Remus needs to feel protected...

Perfect Evening- Your dress might be ruined, but your evening is not...

Dangerous- Even something as simple as going to the store is dangerous now...

His Alpha’s Arms- Remus is overjoyed to be back in his Alpha’s arms...

Battle Scars- His scars are marks of strength...

Interrupted- Yours and Remus’ make out is interrupted...

Trading Jabs- It’s all in good fun...

Quiet Down- The office isn’t warded...

Severus Snape x reader

The Two Of Us- It’s been so long since you’ve had time together...

First Place- He knew you could do it...

Full Marks**- You’ll do anything to raise your grade...

So In Love With You- The rest of your lives is ahead of you...

Lioness- Severus didn’t want to go to the party, but you still find a way to help him enjoy himself...

After Everything- He deserves more than you can give, but you’re his nonetheless...

One Little Thing- Arguments happen, but it still hurts...

It Was You- You’ll always defend him, even in the past...

Good Boy**- Severus is many things, but above all, he is yours in many ways...

Cheetah and Bat- Seeing your Animagus inspires Severus to give it another try...

The Perfect Day- Any day is a perfect day when he’s with you...

Be Still**- Severus needs to grade these exams, but you’re both wanting each other...

Nerves**- While you’re both nervous, you both want this...

Different- Even though you just met, you can tell he’s different...

Ink- Severus never took you for the type to have tattoos...

Years Of Yearning- Severus is able to live through a book, years of yearning being somewhat satisfied...

Mistletoe**- Christmas break is finally here...

I Can’t Lose You- The world is dangerous, and he can’t lose you...

Hard- Severus helps you to relax when the world becomes a bit too much...

The Perfect Day- You plan a day out for your lover...

Sweet Affections- Severus loved being in your arms...

The Mark- He has to tell you...

Not Your Fault- He blames himself...

Figure It Out- After Dumbledore fell...

Midnight Patrols-You can’t sleep when he’s not here..

Mistake- The messenger of the prophecy...

Better Off- If this is how you’ll act, he’s better off without you..

Part 2: His Fragile Heart- He was wrong, and he wants you back

Fantasize**- Severus sees your classtime fantasies...

Severus Getting Married To An American Reader So He Can Vote Against Tr*mp HCs

A Life Without You (TW: SUICIDE)- He can’t live without you...

Those Three Little Words- You love each other more than anything, but you seldom say those three little words...

Being Insecure About Small Breasts w/ Severus

Good Grades**- Good grades pay off...

Coming Clean- At your graduation, secrets are revealed

Sex w/ Severus HCs**

Dating Severus and Being A Professor HCs

Kissing HCs

Oral HCs**

Happy Birthday, My Love- The morning of his birthday...

Not All That Bad- Severus shows you that Slytherin isn’t all that bad...

Pick You-You watch The Bachelor with Severus...

Deep Inside**- Severus won’t let you come until he’s deep inside you...

After Everything- After everything he’s done, you still want to be his, forever...

Jealous/Possessive HCs

They Won’t Know**- Severus wants you, and he doesn’t care who sees...

Severus With A Virgin Reader HCs**

The Best Addiction- You’re addicted to him, as he is to you...

See Your Worth- When you’re feeling inadequate, Severus shows you how much he loves you...

Only You- A night spent with your love...

Few Weaknesses- You discover one of Severus’ few weaknesses...

Protective HCs

Hold On For Me- In that moment, it was the only option...

The Most Beautiful Sound- The students mock your accent, but Severus adores it...

Feel The Same- Severus doesn’t want to ruin your friendship...

Never Hurt You (TW: PAST ABUSE)- You know he’ll never hurt you...

Wake Up Call**- You enjoy waking Severus up, between his legs, that is...

Prima Donna- Severus helps you relax after weeks of rehearsals...

The Great White Way- Severus’s jealousy flares seeing you on stage with another man...

Where You Go, I Go (TW: SUICIDE)- You’ll follow wherever he goes...

Beautiful, Gorgeous, Perfect- Severus knows that you feel insecure sometimes, and he knows how to make you feel better...

What Better Wat To Wake Up?**- Severus wakes you up in a very pleasant way...

New Toys**- Severus brings home some new toys...

Only Yours**- Severus makes sure you know you’re his...

Like This**- Severus wants you just like this...

The Letter- You never planned to send it...

Giving and Receiving**- Tonight, you’re both giving and receiving...

Craving Affection-You’re craving Severus’ affection, and he’s more than happy to give it to you...

Obscenely Affectionate**- Valentine’s Day, an excuse to be obscenely affectionate, an excuse which Severus willingly takes...

Your Grace**- Severus teaches you the wonders of the marriage bed...

Hufflepuff At Heart- You may not be a witch, but Severus knows you’re a badger

Restless- You’re on a mission for the Order, and Severus is worried...

Severus Comforting A Sad Reader HCs

Nothing Like Him- Part of him can’t believe you want to have kids with him...

Beauty In Everything- You find beauty in everything, even in things others don’t find beautiful...

Domestic Life w/ Sev HCs

New Style- You braid Severus’ hair...

Not A Dream- Though it feels like a dream, you assure him it isn’t...

Shooting Stars- Everyone wishes on shooting stars, but you already have everything you want...

Smile- It doesn’t matter how big or small it is, Severus will do anything to see you smile...

You’re Mine**- When Severus’ assistant gets a little too friendly, you remind your husband who he belongs to...

An Amazing Father- Severus is afraid of fatherhood, but you know you’ll be alright...

Pretty Little Prefect**- The monthly prefect’s meeting...

Such A Good Job**- You’ve done such a good job pleasuring yourself, Severus wants you to finish it...

Bath Bombs- Severus puts his own touch on muggle bath bombs...

Captivity- His worst nightmare was coming true...

No More- It was just too much...

Nesting- Your heat’s a few days away...

Keep No Secrets- Severus knows he has to tell you, but he’s terrified...

Lots of Practice- Severus has never kissed anyone before...

Happy Anniversary- Your second wedding anniversary with Severus...

Keep You Safe-You know Severus will keep you safe, especially from other Alphas...

Need To See Him- You need to see him, to make sure he’s alright...

All Mine**- When Lucius gets a little too friendly, Severus reminds you that you’re all his...

Be On Top**- Severus wants you to be on top for the first time...

Missed You**- After nearly a week in London, you return home...

Perfectly Fine- Severus takes care of you after a prank gone wrong, and feelings are revealed...

A Galaxy Far, Far Away- You introduce Severus to Star Wars...

Need You Here- After a nightmare, you need your husband by your side...

Long Weekend**- While you don’t make it to most of your plans, you and Severus still enjoy yourselves...

A Little Risky**-You and Severus have some fun at the Order meeting...

Snowball Fight-A snowball fight with your husband...

Finally Home- Your fiance returns home after a month and a half...

Unbothered**- Severus’ isn’t bothered by your period, he still wants to taste you...

NSFW Alphabet**

SFW Alphabet

My Perfect, Beautiful Man**- You give Severus some much needed praise and attention...

Never Cheat On You- Severus thinks you’re cheating, but he couldn’t be farther from the truth...

Slow, Tender, and Sensual**- Your first time with Severus is everything you wanted: slow, tender, and sensual...

The Only Woman I’ll Ever Love- Severus didn’t listen to her, you’re the only women he’ll ever love...

My Princess- For your birthday, Severus treats you like the princess you are...

Spare A Dance For Me- You help Severus teach the Slytherins to dance...

Validation**- Severus craves validation, and you’re more than willing to give it...

Hands**- You watch Severus while he brews.  Well, you watch his hands...

Sweet Spot**- Severus’ sweet spot makes him feel so good...

Grateful- One year after the battle...

Your Heart Is A Treasure- Severus won’t treat you like they did...

The Matron’s Assistant- You return to Hogwarts, and find more than just work...

Make A Bad Day Better- You always make bad days better...

Always Yours- It doesn’t matter what anyone says or does, you’re always his...

Throne**- Severus makes you feel like a queen, especially in bed...

Discipline- You’ve always been light on discipline with your daughter...

Don’t Give A Damn- You don’t give a damn that Severus is younger than you, but he’s still insecure...

Precipice**- Severus decides to play a little game with you... 

Not A Prank- He’s convinced it’s a prank by the Marauders...

Caught- The twins catch you and Severus in an intimate moment...

Nocturnal Conversations- Severus converses with you while you sleep-talk...

The Right Time- It just felt like the right time to ask...

With You- He never thought you could be happy with him...

Eyes On Me**- You want him to look at you when he comes...

My Vow To You- His vow to you trumps all others...

Show You How**- Severus teaches you how to suck his cock...

Bare Face- Severus sees you for the first time without makeup...

Let It Out- After someone shouts at you, Severus makes you feel better...

Denied**- Severus is needy, but you’re busy...

Perfectly Valid- Severus loves you just as  you are...

The Bigger Man- He needs to be the bigger man with Lupin...

Every Inch**- Severus wants to kiss every inch of you...

Every Part- You love every part of him, even the parts he doesn’t...

Get Away- A vacation with your family...

Still New- Your relationship is still so new, you can’t help but be a little flustered...

Entirely Real- You can’t believe that this is really happening...

Cared For- After the full moon, you just need to be cared for...

Little Tease**- Your choice of attire gets Severus a little riled up...

Argument/Making Up HCs

Severus as a Soft Dom HCs**

Too Good**- He just couldn’t hold back...

His Turn- You’ve cared for him, now it’s his turn to care for you...

Twice the Fun**- Severus’ new potion gives twice the fun...

Tail-End**- It might be the tail-end of your heat, but you’re still needing him...

Overwhelmed (platonic)- When things feel overwhelming, help comes from an unlikely person...

My Misstress’ Eyes Are Nothing Like The Sun- When Severus is assigned midnight patrol, you can’t sleep...

Have You Right Here- Your Alpha always knows how to make you feel better...

Severus Snape x reader x Remus Lupin

Now**- After your lovers tease you, you need them now

Punishments and Pleasure**- While the evening began in a punishment, it ended with immense pleasure...

Filled**- A morning in the library..

Waited For You**- You’ve been gone for two days, but your lovers waited for you...

Forgot The Charm**- The three of you seemed to have forgotten the silencing charm...

Remus Lupin x reader x Sirius Black

He’s Home- He’s home, and he needs you...

Life w/ Kids HCs

Happy Birthday- Remus and Sirius treat you on your birthday...

Their Job- They’re your alphas, it’s their job to take care of you...

Help You Feel Good**- Your lovers show you how to use your new toy...

His Beautiful Loves**- Remus loves to watch, but he also loves to join in...

Cuddles- You join your lovers on the couch...

How Do You Want Us?**- Remus fucks you while you fuck Sirius...

SFW Alphabet

Noisy Little Thing**- You need to be quiet, lest the whole Order hear...

Broken Collar- It was an accident, but you’re still very upset about it...

Severus Snape x reader x Lucius Malfoy

Impersonations- It’s all in good fun...

More Than Desperate**- After your lovers tease you all day, you’re more than desperate for them...

Insatiable**- You can’t get enough...

Needy**- Your period makes you horny, and your men certainly aren’t complaining...

Good Beta**- Your Beta takes care of you until your Alpha comes home...

Tonight**- Tonight, they will have them, and they will have you...

Full**- Both your men fill you up...

Feeling Needy**- Severus is feeling needy today...

Snuggles- After a long day, the three of you want to be close...

Fuck Waiting**- They can’t wait anymore, you look too sexy...

Overworked- When school take its toll, your lovers are there...

James Potter x reader x Remus Lupin

Sensual**- Slow, sweet, and sensual...

New Heights**- James and Remus take your pleasure to new heights...

Being Married To, Honeymoon, Sex w/, Twins w/ Remus and James HCs

Wedding HCs

A Future With Them- You can’t wait for the future

Yourself**- They want you to make yourself come...

Good Together**- Remus thinks you two look so good together...

Scars**- You show Remus just how perfect he is...

What Their Home Is Like HCs

Remus and James As Parents HCs

Cedric Diggory x reader x Harry Potter

Dating Cedric and Harry HCs

Cedric Diggory x reader x Hermione Granger

Domestic Life HCs

Sex HCs**

James Potter x reader x Lily Evans

First Heat**- Your first heat...

Harry Potter x Severus Snape

Through It All- Harry has been there through it all...

Paradise- Harry takes his husband away for a week...

Good Boy**- Severus loves being Harry’s good boy...

Slipped His Mind**- Severus forgets something important...

Unwavering- Harry’s support and love for his husband is unwavering...

My Perfect Boy**- When Severus is feeling insecure, his Daddy helps him see...

Much Better**- After a bad day, Harry helps Severus feel better...

James Potter x Lily Evans

James and Lily As Friends HCs

Everyone Can See- Everyone can see they’re falling for each other...

Sirius Black x Lily Evans

Sirius x Lily HCs

Other

Marauders x an Ilvermorny Transfer HCs

[reddielibrary]

your touch is my weakness

Summary: Eddie is a witch with a big fat crush on his friend. What could possibly go wrong?

Written by @reddieforlove​

Gift for @heknewwellenough

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak

Word count: 1427

Rating: T for language

Eddie would always remember the first time that he met Richie Tozier. When they shook hands, the lights above them flickered. That’s when he knew that something was off. It would have been comedic if it wasn’t so damn frustrating. A powerful witch with a fucking crush. What the hell? The worst part was that he had no idea how to deal with it.

Nothing like this had ever happened to him. Things might have been intense with other people but they were never this explosive. And that wasn’t even an exaggeration. It was thoughts like these that had Eddie glowering into a half empty glass of water as Stan meticulously wiped down the bar in front of him.

“Incoming,” his best friend warned.

Eddie tensed up, inhaling deeply as he heard footsteps approaching.

“What’s going on, fuckers?” Richie asked, slipping into the seat next to him.

Ignoring his boisterous, explicit greeting, Eddie sulked further into his stool.

“Nothing,” Eddie muttered, resisting the temptation to look his way.

It was bad enough that he had to curl his hands into fists to rein in the power that simmered beneath his skin. Seeing how good he looked wouldn’t really help him.

“He okay?” Richie asked, sounding less cheerful and more worried.

“Moody,” Stan answered without hesitation.

“I’m right here,” Eddie reminded them both.

Stan gave him an almost smirk before turning around to refill napkin containers.

“Hey,” Richie said softly, nudging Eddie’s shoulder with his.

It was a familiar gesture, one that had become a habit over the past few months. He was a physical person just like Eddie which, unfortunately, did not help this situation. Sure enough, he saw the picture on the TV fade in and out several times before turning off completely.

“What?” he said, dragging his eyes away from the TV to mistakenly look straight into his deep blue gaze.

Richie looked concerned, a slight frown creasing his forehead and turning his lips downward.

“What’s wrong?”

If his physical attributes weren’t enough, the fact that he cared enough to ask certainly did it for him. Richie wasn’t like that in the beginning, teasing Eddie and arguing with him about everything under the sun. To be fair, Eddie didn’t exactly refuse to take part in the verbal sparring sessions. But now that they were past their mutual antagonism, it felt natural to share most things.

“Just feeling off today,” he told him.

Richie reached out before Eddie could stop him, putting a hand over his.

“Son of a bitch!” another patron yelled from the other end of the bar as one of the hanging light fixtures over the bar shattered.

Eddie yanked his hand away, glancing at Stan with wide eyes as his friend shook his head, looking entirely unimpressed at this point. Richie, on the other hand, was suspicious. This was far from the first time that something like this had happened. It was different things all the time but by now he had to have at least one or two theories. Eddie was just afraid of him figuring out the truth.

“I’ll go help,” he said, giving Eddie a calculating look before going over to assist in cleaning up glass.

Letting out a miserable groan, Eddie let his head thump against the bar.

“You’re fucked,” Stan informed him.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he said dryly, lifting his head to glare at the other man.

*

Halloween came and went. Eddie laughed good-naturedly at Beverly’s witch costume, complete with pointed hat. An incident hadn’t happened in weeks and Eddie dared to hope that it was forgotten. It wasn’t until Richie came to him with a heavy book and a look of determination that he knew that he was in trouble.

“I know what’s going on.”

Eddie basically inhaled the water he was drinking, coughing and sputtering as Ben thumped his back.

“What?” Eddie managed to choke out.

“You’re haunted,” he said, dropping the book on the bar.

An immense wave of relief swept over him. If he was looking on that end of the supernatural spectrum, he wasn’t anywhere close to figuring out what was really going on.

“That’s ridiculous,” Stan snorted.

Eddie gave him a dirty look, resisting the temptation to throw something heavy his way.

“It’s not. It explains everything. Weird things happen around you,” Richie said, sitting up straighter as he flipped the book open.

“Not that weird,” Eddie said, averting his eyes.

“Remember that time we were watching those scary movies at my place?”

How could Eddie forget? Richie brushed his hair out of his face and all hell broke loose.

“Barely,” he shrugged.

Richie gaped at him with disbelief.

“Every door in the place blew open. Even the locked front door,” he reminded him.

Eddie pretended not to recall it all that clearly, even though he could still remember the surge of power in his body when Richie’s fingertips brushed his cheek. It had been a particularly humiliating evening, especially when he had to recount it to Stan, his only confidant.

“I’m going to prove it to you,” Richie said stubbornly.

Eddie searched his mind for a way to convince him to leave it be. Nothing he came up with led back to anything but telling him the truth.

“Let’s hope it’s a friendly ghost,” he said, forcing a smile on his face as he ignored Stan’s eye roll.

*

It was hard, watching Richie comb through dusty old books and dozens of websites to find the answer to a problem he didn’t have. Part of him thought that it was sweet of him to go through so much effort. The other part wondered if he was only doing it to find some sort of satisfaction once he figured it out. Eddie wasn’t sure exactly which of those reasons caused him to speak up as Richie came upon yet another dead end one night in the apartment that Eddie shared with Stan.

“I’m not haunted, Richie.”

“I just haven’t found a way to test it Eddie. But I’ll figure it out,” Richie assured him, thinking he was just giving up on the idea.

“I was never haunted,” Eddie pushed, stepping forward. “It’s something else entirely.”

Richie looked up at him with confusion creasing his brow.

“What do you mean?” he asked slowly.

Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself for his reaction.

“I’m a witch.”

Before he could burst out laughing, which he knew was coming soon, Eddie flicked his hand over one of his books and sent it flying across the room. When it thudded against the wall, Richie almost fell off his chair in his haste to stand up.

“What the fuck?”

“I told you,” he said quietly, weaving his fingers together. “I didn’t tell you before because…well I don’t really tell anyone.”

Richie stared at him, looking torn between slow realization and lingering disbelief.

“A witch?”

Eddie nodded, sinking his teeth into his lower lip as he waited for Richie to process it.

“So you can use a potion to turn me into a newt or something?”

“I don’t need the potion, but yeah,” he replied.

Richie glanced between him and the fallen book.

“So all the exploding lights and slamming doors…” he trailed off, looking at him questioningly.

Eddie’s shoulders slumped and he sighed heavily, knowing that he just had to get this over with.

“Yes, that was me. I get nervous around you and I lose control a little bit. I’m working on it,” he promised.

“You get nervous around me?” Richie said, suddenly more interested in that statement than the whole witch thing as a grin pulled at his lips. “As in…”

“Yes,” Eddie said, already knowing that he had it right. “I’ve got a big stupid crush on you, Richie Tozier. And because of that, I turn into a... a flustered mess who can’t rein in the abilities that he’s had since childhood. I know it’s embarrassing, believe me. My dad just says that I need to build up a sort of immunity to…”

He was cut off by lips on his, letting out a squeak of surprise before relaxing into the kiss. As Richie’s fingers tangled in his hair and his other hand pressed over his hip, Eddie felt a burst of warmth in his chest and winced at the sound of shattering glass. They were suddenly plunged into darkness, pulling away at once.

“I’m working on it,” Eddie repeated with a serious tone in his voice

Richie’s laugh was the only reply he got before they were kissing once more.

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

The Unknown - Chapter 31. Sanity [Minho x Reader]

Title: The Unknown - Chapter 31. Sanity  ➔ Chapter 32. Here! Pairing: Minho x Female!Reader Published: 4 June, 2020 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore The Unknown Masterlist | Masterlists

I was running in the Maze as if there was no tomorrow. It was getting dark, I was out of breath and I barely had any time left before the doors were about to close on me. I couldn't sleep properly after my conversation with Newt and it affected my physical state. I wasn't as fast as I would have been on other days. I wasn't even as stable which made it harder to control my whole body. I felt light headed and my mind was playing games which caused me to get a head injury earlier. The blood was still flowing down my forehead, but I tried to ignore it. I had no time to care about such trivial things at that moment. I tried to run as fast as I could, but I felt like I was running on the same damn spot.

When I saw the last turn and my eyes fixated on the opening of the concrete walls, I felt an immediate relief. I smiled to myself and ran as quick as I could. I barely threw myself in the Glade just before the doors closed behind me. I heard the boys' voice, but I didn't want to pay attention. I was laying across the grass in a calm state not even bothered to open my eyes. I slowly felt them getting heavier and without a fight, I gave in.

He was standing in front of my door with a sorrow expression sitting across his face. I didn't understand what happened and I wanted to get up to open the door for him and ask him, if everything was okay, but I was too weak to do so. He opened the door himself, walked up to me and sat down on the side of the bed. He caressed my cheeks and cupped them in between his big manly hands. I tried to smile at his gentle movements, but I didn't even have energy left to do that.

"They will send me in tomorrow. I heard them talking about it yesterday, Minho." I whispered. I couldn't even raise my voice to a normal tone anymore.

"They will not." He replied, confidence clearly showing in his voice.

"What do you mean?" I asked trying to understand. "I heard them myself."

"I know, Y/N." He turned his head towards the door. "But I will not let that happen." He shook his head. "You are not in such state to go anywhere. You are barely alive and I can not let them do this to you."

"What are you talking about?" I tried to get him to explain it to me.

"I will go in, instead of you." He replied.

"No!" I objected, but he just shook his head.

"How can you expect me to just let you go in such a state? You can't even get up anymore." He raised his voice. "I can't see you like this and I definitely can't let them take you in such a weak condition so they can just let you die. I will not let that happen and that is my decision."

"No, you can't make a decision like that. They will not agree nor will I. I refuse to accept it. I will go as it was originally planned." A gentle smile appeared on his face while he ran his hands down on my arm to finally link our fingers.

"You see, they already agreed. Right after I have heard what happened, I asked the guard to take me to the lab." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "I told them that I wanted to be part of the trials before you. It took them a while to discuss it but they agreed for whatever reason. I don't even care to be honest." He squeezed my hands and looked into my eyes. "You don't have to worry anymore." I couldn't stop myself and laughed at him with a bitter tone.

"I don't have to worry, huh?" I continued laughing. "You see Minho, up until now I wasn't worried. I thought what has to happen to me, will happen anyway." I released his hands and ran my fingers through my hair. "But now I am worried. And not just worried, but angry. I worry because you decided to go to an environment where you very clearly know that you can get injured or even worse, die. I am worried because I don't know how I will survive here without you. I am worried because from on this moment I have no other things in my mind but how on earth I will get you out of there. And I am very angry because you decided to make this decision on your own without even thinking about discussing it with me." He got hold of my hands again and linked our fingers.

"You are a strong girl, and you will do just fine without me too. You do not have to worry about me. I just want you to concentrate on getting stronger and healthier. I know it is hard especially with all the tests, but you must promise me that you will fight with all the power you have. Promise me." His voice sounded desperate and I wanted to make him feel at ease. Even though I didn't feel like I could get better, deep down something moved in me. I wanted to fight. I didn't want to give up anymore. Not for me. For Minho.

"I promise." I smiled at him weakly and pulled him closer until our lips met.

"What is going on with her?" I heard a familiar voice. "Did she get a concussion?" The previous boy continued. I couldn't make a difference between what I have just dreamed of and what I thought was reality. I started opening my eyes once, twice, three times, when finally they decided to stay open on their own, after numerous blinking.

"That is what I assume. I stitched up the wound, so hopefully she will be..." He stopped for a second when our eyes met. "Oh, Y/N you are awake?" I just blinked at Clint not understanding what happened. "How are you feeling? Do you feel dizzy?"

"I'm okay. Just my head hurts a bit." I explained.

"That's normal, you probably also got a concussion. I will ask you to stay here a bit more until you recover, okay?" He waited for a reply, while a gentle smile spread across his face.

"Yeah, I guess." I turned to my other side where Newt was standing next to me with a worried expression, clearly unable to hide it. "I am okay. Really." I tried to convince him. However his raised eyebrow and bored expression made it very clear that he didn't believe a word I said.

"Yeah, like I would believe that. Bloody hell Y/N, you were covered in blood. You were lucky you got back in time." He scolded me.

"Just relax. I am back and I am not dangerously injured either. It's all fine." He just growled at me, but didn't talk back.

As much as I appreciated Newt's attention, I couldn't focus on it. I was worried about my dreams. They started becoming more and more like reality and it scared me. I couldn't possibly believe that there have ever been anything between me and Minho and I was honestly thinking I was going mental. What if my mind was destroying itself and it started creating all these weird images. What if I have something in my system which makes me hallucinate. I was so concerned about my dreams that I was thinking of every possibility which could have caused me to imagine unrealistic situations. I felt like my mind was playing a stupid game with me and it was winning. I was even questioning my sanity.

Notes: If you enjoyed it, don’t forget to like the chapter. Thank you :)

[ourownsideimagines]

Do You See The Way I Look at You? (Slytherin!Crowley x Fem!Hufflepuff!Reader)

Characters: Fem!Hufflepuff!Reader, Ravenclaw!Aziraphale, Slytherin!Crowley, Slytherin!Gabriel, Slytherin!Michael, Slytherin!Uriel

Requested: Yes 

Requested by: Anon

Point of View: Second Person

Summary: When Aziraphale introduces you to Crowley, a Slytherin in the same year as you, you’re unsure how to feel about him. He seems the stereotypical evil Slytherin - until you get to know him, that is, then you realize how much more there is to him. Especially considering his magical background - or, really, the lack thereof. 

Warnings: Bullying, use of the term ‘mudblood’, cursing, minimal editing

Words: 1669

A/N: Crowley is muggle born, Aziraphale is half-blood, and all others are purebloods. I also decided to put Anathema into Hufflepuff because of her loyalty to Agnes’ prophecies (and because I needed a name for the reader’s roommate). I’ll do a part two of this that takes place in Hogsmead.

---

Overall you liked to think you were a kind person. You tried to be very accepting of everyone, regardless of bloodline, or ethnicity, or sexuality, or house! People deserved the benefit of the doubt - you believed that deep in your soul.

But there was something about the Slytherin Anthony Crowley that set off alarms in your head.

Before now, you had never talked to him. You’d had him in a number of classes since first year. Now in sixth year, you had to admit he was an attractive young man. He’d decided to grow out his hair over the summer, something a lot of people seemed to notice but never mention. Most of it was gathered into a half-bun on the back of his head, and what did hang down was wavy, curling up at the ends.

But you didn’t really care about appearances. At least, not physical ones. From what you had heard about his personality Crowley was as Slytherin as they came - that was to say, he wasn’t a very nice person. He screwed around in classes, he made snide comments about other houses, and it was rumored that he’d set fire to a young Gryffindor’s robes between potions and herbology class.

If the circumstances were any different, you probably would have never interacted with the hot-headed Slytherin. But here you were, sitting in the count yard with him and your good friend Aziraphale, who had made it his job to introduce the two of you. From what you could gather, Aziraphale and Crowley had met on the train first year, and had slowly but surely become best friends. It had been a surprise to you, as you’d never actually seen them hang out before, or ever heard Aziraphale mention Crowley.

Everyone had their secrets. Still, if Aziraphale trusted him surely you could as well?

You had been as open minded as possible while talking with him. You tried to get to know him, but Crowley was very shut off and wasn’t afraid to tell you to piss off if you were asking things he thought were ‘too personal’ like his favorite color and what class he had next. And he didn’t seem too interested in getting to know you, either. You’d heard Aziraphale chastise him on multiple occasions for being so rude only for Crowley to blow him off.

Christmas Break was coming up fast now, and this year you would remain at Hogwarts while your parents went to Africa on business. It upset you, but you knew the work your parents did was important to them.

‘This is the big one, sweetheart.’ Your dad had written. ‘We’ll celebrate Christmas together once school is out’.

It had been all you could think about since breakfast, when the letter had arrived. You could tell by the looks on your friends faces that they knew something was off, but no one said anything. They were all busy talking about all the exciting things they were going to do over break. And with the Hogsmead visit coming up, they also spoke about who they would go with. You had been looking forward to the visit, and planned to go with your roommate Anathema, but you weren’t looking forward to also be spending time with her boyfriend Newt. He was clingy to say the least and you suspected you wouldn’t get to talk much with Anathema.

You had your books gathered in your arms, rushing to potions, and not exactly paying attention to where you were going when someone popped around the corner and you walked full force into them. You yelped as the books fell from your arms, landing onto the person’s foot.

“Damn it!” You looked up, heart suddenly racing as a pair of violet eyes glared down at you.

Most people knew who Gabriel was - a Seventh year Slytherin with an even worse rep than Crowley. You’d done your best to avoid him and his crowd, but it looked like you’d really done it this time. Beside him stood two of his friends, Michael and Uriel.

Yeah. You were fucked.

“Oh, my god, I am so sorry-” Your natural instinct kicked in, apologies spilling from your mouth. You dropped down, reaching for your books, but the three began to kick them away from your hands.

“Do you even watch where the hell you’re going?” Gabriel sneered at you. You managed to get a hand on one of the books, only for Michael to stamp their foot down on your fingers. You cried out in pain, pulling your hand back to your chest as you fell onto your butt. “You’ve made me late to class, Hufflepuff.”

“All of us.” Uriel said coldly.

“I didn’t mean to-” You tried again, tears forming in your eyes.

“Look, Gabriel, she’s crying.” Michael taunted. “She makes us late, and she’s crying.”

“Maybe we should teach the crybaby a lesson.” Gabriel said, smiling suddenly. You began to scramble backwards, letting out a small yelp as you hit someone else. You looked up, catching a flash of red hair and a green tie before Crowley was stepping in front of you, books clutched to his chest as he stood tall.

“Leave her alone.” He hissed at them. Gabriel scoffed.

“What are you gonna do about it, mudblood?” Gabriel drew his wand, and Crowley did the same with lightning speed. “You’re a disgrace to the Slytherin name.”

“If you knew me,” Crowley began. “You’d know I don’t care.” Then, he turned his wand down to your books, which sat between their feet, and your eyes widened as he spat out, “Incendio.” And the books roared into flames at Gabriel, Michael, and Uriel’s feet. The three Slytherin jumped back in surprise, giving Crowley enough time to help you to your feet, racing with you down the hall. 

You can hear them following you, which distracted you from the fact your books had just gone up in flames, and which carried you further and faster down the halls.

There were no students left, and Crowley seemed to know the exact halls to take to avoid any adults who would yell at you if they saw you out of class.

“Get back here, Crowley!” Gabriel shouted. “Get back here you filthy mudblood!”

Crowley yanked you left, and you allowed him to pull you through a large set of double doors. He then lead you to a nearby column that had just enough room to hide both of you from view. As the doors flew open, you bit your tongue to keep from screaming as Gabriel, Michael, and Uriel stampeded past the two of you. Your breathing calmed down after a moment, finally free from them.

But you weren’t out of the woods yet.

“They’re gone,” Crowley said from behind you, his warm breath ticking the back of your neck.. “So could you please move so I can get out.”

“Oh, my lord, I’m sorry.” You squeaked, quickly rushing away from him. Crowley steps out from behind the column and brushes himself off with his free hand. “Um, thank you. For helping me.”

“It’s nothing.” He said, shaking his head gently. Then, you remembered what had happened, and a sudden wave of anger came over you.

“You set fire to my books!” You snapped suddenly, and his head lifted up. “You set my bloody books on fire!” He stared at you from behind his dark sunglasses for a good few moments.

“Wow,” He said suddenly. “I honestly didn’t think you could get mad.”

“How dare-”

“Here.” He said, shoving his books into your arms. “I never use them anyway.” You looked down, surprised to find that he’d handed you the exact same books you had dropped. They were in much better condition than the ones you had owned.

“I, uh, what-”

“We’re late for class.” Crowley turned on his heels, prepared to head back in the direction of class. “C’mon.” A sudden burst of confidence had you reaching out to him, grabbing the fabric of his cloak sleeve. He stopped, turning back to you.

“Why… Why are you being so… kind to me?” You asked. Crowley didn’t try to pull away from you, but he took a moment to answer.

“I don’t know.” He said. “Just felt… right.”

“Right enough to set my books on fire?”

“Are you not going to let that one go?” His tone surprised you. You’d expected it to be sarcastic, or even annoyed. But he sounded amused. “Look, it seemed like the only way out, and like I said I don’t use my books so… yeah.”

“That’s very kind,” She said. “I honestly didn’t think you could be kind.” Then, you pulled your hand away. “I honestly thought you hated me.”

“Hate’s a strong word, (name).” Crowley said. “I, uh, I don’t hate you.”

“I’m glad.” You said.

“So, uh. Class?” Class. You had to get to class. But there was one last thing you wanted to ask.

“Oh, yeah.” He began walking again, but you gently called his name. He stopped, and turned back again. “Do you, uh,” You refused to look at his face. Not being able to see where he was looking unnerved you a bit. “Are you going to Hogsmead with anybody?”

“I, um, I was, uh,” He stuttered. “I usually go alone.”

“Oh,” You nodded. “Well, I was wondering if you’d maybe want to go with me?” The long silence that followed made you panic. You’d gone to far, you were sure of it.

“Are you sure you want to go with me?” Crowley spoke up suddenly. “I haven’t exactly been very… friendly.”

“I’m sure.” You confirmed. “I mean, I don’t have to if you don’t want me to-”

“No, no, I never said that.” Crowley rushed out. “I guess I could let you join me.” He shrugged, holding out his arm to you. You rolled your eyes, and gently interlocked your arm with his.

“How kind.” You teased gently. Crowley rolled his eyes, but began walking.

“Shut up.”

[bruciewayne]

unknown hex (love)

stevetony (surprised? lmao), hogwarts au, enemies to lovers, friends/enemies with benefits, fluff, humour, 2.3k

for ‘wizards and witches’ on @iron-man-bingo​

[[Hogwarts is exactly as it is in the UK except this one’s in upstate New York.]]

--

“Tony, you say his name one more time, I will, by no use of magic, make sure you can’t speak for the rest of the year,” Natasha growls out. It’s not that she even hates the guy that Tony’s complaining about, hell, she’s pretty good friends with Steve, but Merlin, both of them need to get their heads out of their asses and put something else in.

Natasha’s this close to taking their wands, shoving both of them into a closet, and only unlocking the door when they can prove that they can be civil for longer than five seconds. The only reason she hasn’t already is that both of them are too good at wandless magic (Tony kept accidentally lighting things on fire in Sixth Year (and ‘accidentally’ lighting Steve on fire)). 

And there’s a general ban on locking people in closets (Steve ‘accidentally’ locked Tony in a closet in Sixth Year in a potions class, so Tony locked him in a different closet and sunk it to the bottom of the lake, so Steve locked him in a closet and kept it levitating above Gryffindor tower until Tony woke up, and then, along with a general ban on locking people in closets, Steve and Tony aren’t allowed to be in any more closets - every single one in the castle and the neighbouring town are hexed to throw them out. Surprisingly, their… arguments have been far less physical after that, now just yelling and snarking at each other in the corridors. Natasha’s not quite sure what to make of that particular development.

Tony glares at her, flopping back on the grass, cushioned by the air with a flick of his hand, so he’s floating a little, “But S-- he’s so goddamn stupid--”

“Then stop talking to him!” Rhodey says, exasperatedly. They’ve been through this too many times to count, ever since the start of First Year, Steve and Tony hated each other and never made up, leading them to now, just over a month before they take their NEWTs and leave, and those two still can’t have a normal conversation.

“No,” Tony says, well used to the exchange, Rhodey will tell him to stop talking to him, and as much as Steve is an arrogant, stubborn, bastard, for some reason, he can’t stop talking to him. During one memorable argument last year that had resulted in the dining hall being blown up (only a little), the headmaster had forced them to go to medical to see if they had any hexes put on them. 

They didn’t. 

“Then don’t complain.”

“No.”

-

“What do you mean ‘no’ he’s the crux of all your problems, stop talking to him, pretend he doesn’t exist,” Sam says to Steve, tired of going through the same conversation and debate and argument again and again.

“Last time I tried that he blew up the hall,” Steve says.

“You also had a hand in blowing up, don’t think I’ve forgotten,” Bucky interrupts. He’s never gonna let Steve live that down, especially because after, they’d been forced to be checked for hexes. Even though the headmaster wasn’t aware of any hexes that could make them do… whatever they do.

“It was mostly him,” Steve insists, it was, he’s the one who started that particular argument.

“One day doesn’t count as ignoring,” Bucky adds. He’s pretty sure that he’s had this conversation in his sleep, the amount of times they’ve been over it.

Before Steve can say anything, Sam interrupts and says, “The longest you’ve gone without talking to him was that week you were in the infirmary, and even then you sent him howlers, and he sent them back!”

“God forbid if both of you end up working for the Magical Congress together,” Bucky mutters. 

He can’t imagine what it would be like for them in the working world, devoid of all the rules here. He fears the day they run MACUSA together. He’s not too sure that moving to different galaxies will stop them from talking to each other. Morons. He’s suggested to Steve to just fuck it out, but he’d just rolled his eyes, ignoring his incredibly helpful advice (it had worked for him and Sam, but they weren’t anywhere near as bad as Steve and Tony).

Going back to his charms homework, Steve replies amicably, “Fuck you.”

-

“Real original Stark,” Steve taunts back, repressing what he’d rather say, the corridor is full of people, everyone watching. Their drama a pretty big source of entertainment, for everyone who isn’t the headmaster and the ghosts he sometimes ropes in to referee them.

“What, you want me to fuck your mother instead?” Tony taunts back, without thinking.

The next thing he knows, he’s standing in his underwear in the middle of the quidditch field. 

In front of First Years.

Great.

When he gets back to Ravenclaw Tower, he finds out that Steve lost the Gryffindors a hundred points, and he, the Ravenclaws.

“He’s the one who used magic on me!” (Steve and Tony have a ban on using magic on each other (Third Year)) Tony complains, even though, admittedly, he went far too far, especially just for passing the hallways.

“Tony,” Bruce says.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“Just st--”

“If you say stop talking to him--”

//

“Steve, that’s, barring actual death, and even then I’m not sure, is the only way to stop this, it was getting stupid five years ago,” Bucky interrupts. The worst thing is that he’s not even exaggerating. Those two have lost their respective houses so many points over the years that whenever points get deducted now because of them, they get put into different section (Idiotic Losses) and whichever Prefect wins the chess tournament at the end of the year between them, wins the points for their houses (Fourth Year).

“I can’t, Buck, if I do, then--”

“He wins, I know, I know,” Bucky sighs, “you okay?”

“Yeah, it was probably just a slip of the tongue or something,” Steve says, it’s common with them. More than it should be, really. He’s said his fair share of things that classify as ‘too far’, and got his due hexes from Rhodey - both Rhodey and Bucky stopped revenge-hexing about halfway into Third Year, claiming it lost them too many points too often. The headmaster also put a ban on revenge-hexing that had anything to do with Steven Grant Rogers and Anthony Edward Stark.

“Doesn’t make it acceptable.”

“I know, I know--”

-

“-- he’s a dick, stop talking to him, blah blah blah--”

“Have you maybe considered being nice to him?” Rhodey asks, pushing a pawn across the board. He’s trying to better his chess skills so maybe he’ll have a chance in the tournament at the end of the year - Hufflepuff have won every single time, and he’s determined not to let them in his last year.

Tony looks at him like he’s gone crazy, “Honeybear, have you already forgotten what he did--”

“Because of what you said!”

Tony concedes that, they took familial insults off the table halfway through First Year when Steve made a crack at his father and Tony, his. But he’s not going to be nice to him, he doesn’t deserve it. 

Maybe if he repeats it enough times he’ll believe it.

Rhodey sighs, so done, he’s practically burnt, “Do you know why little boys pull little girls’ pigtails?”

-

“Because boys are praised and rewarded for showing violence in place of affection?” Steve says, in place of admitting that Bucky might be right.

“Smartass,” Bucky grumbles, flicking ink at him.

“I don’t like him, he doesn’t like me, never will, never has.” 

-

“You physically can’t stop talking to him, what does that say about you?”

“Unknown hex,” Tony insists stubbornly. 

“Well what does that say about him?”

“It makes him a moron!”

-

“How am I the moron?”

“You’re clearly making them suspicious,” Tony says, glaring at Steve.

“Right, because this is so shameful?” Steve says, sarcastically, but there’s still hurt laced in the anger.

“Secret fucks? That’s pretty damn shameful,” Tony spits back. They’re at the top of Ravenclaw tower, alone, in the dark, save for the crescent moon and the stars. For better or for worse, they’re not yet banned from being in the same vicinity at the same time alone.

“Are you cheating on someone?” Tony wouldn’t, Steve knows that Tony wouldn’t and he isn’t.

“You know me better than that,” Tony scowls, indignant.

“Then why is it so shameful?”

“Because-- because neither of us can stand each other and that’s how it’s been for the past seven years and it’s staying that way!” Tony says, voice getting louder and louder. He doesn’t know who he’s trying to convince anymore.

“Why do you hate me?” Steve provokes. He’s tired of all of this, he’s tired of the constant fighting that, ultimately, doesn’t mean anything at all, he’s tired of keeping secrets from his friends and he’s tired of pretending to hate Tony. In all honesty, he hasn’t hated him for a while now.

“Because,” Tony says, stubbornly, “it’s how it’s been for the past forever.” Maybe if Tony tells himself that he despises every cell in his body, he’ll believe it one day. He doesn’t want to hate him, but he doesn’t want to love him. He doesn’t. He doesn’t love the way he laughs, he doesn’t love his hair, or his eyes, or his body, or the way he thinks or his determination, or his pigheadedness, or the way he knows Tony inside out, or the way he’ll go out of his way to help someone, or his stupid smile and the way it brightens up his face. He doesn’t love him.

Steve gives him a disbelieving look, all the anger and hurt dissipating, “We’re not eleven anymore.”

“Yeah, we’re not,” Tony agrees, instead of saying the insult on the tip of his tongue, Tony doesn’t have it in him to force it out, no-ones watching anyway. 

“I don’t hate you, you know,” Steve says, quietly. He might even like him. Love him. His eleven-year-old self would Wingardium Leviosa his ass out the stratosphere.

Tony does know. Steve told him, last year, after the closet debacle. Tony called him a liar, Steve ignored him, they broke the dining hall a little in trying to convince each other. (The hall was empty, it had been just gone 3 in the morning.) And he doesn’t think that he hates him, not anymore.

“I know.”

Steve sighs and looks up at the stars, eyes tracking over constellations. Tony gets an irrational urge to take him to Australia to show him even more stars.

“Tell me you hate me,” Steve challenges, after a beat of silence, turning to him, fire in his eyes.

“What?”

Steve comes closer, close enough that Tony could count his eyelashes (give or take 550 - he counted, one night, after Steve had fallen asleep) if it weren’t so dark, he’s close enough that he can smell him. He resists the urge to hug him, to bury himself in his arms, to apologise, to spill all his secrets.

“Tell me you hate me.”

It’s not even on the tip of his tongue. Tony’s reasonably sure that all the willpower he currently possesses couldn’t make him say ‘I hate you’ to Steve. It used to be so damn easy, scathing and venomous, and then he started sleeping with him, they lost their virginity to each other, rash, stupid and full of hate, and then they said it simply in passing, more lighthearted, and they meant it, every time. But now, he can’t. Even an Imperio Curse couldn’t make him say it.

Steve takes his non-answer as an answer and smiles, like Tony finally, finally got something. He really is beautiful when he smiles. Tony can’t be bothered to keep back those thoughts anymore. Steve is beautiful, gorgeous, even when he’s angry he’s ridiculously hot - which is how the hate (well, not anymore) fucking started in the first place.

“I love you,” Steve can’t stop himself from saying it, but that just makes it ore true. And maybe it’ll turn out to be a mistake, and he’ll lose one of the best people he knows, but Gryffindors are meant to be impulsive, right?

Tony looks, surprised, mostly, but also relieved. Not a mistake. So very much not a mistake, especially when Tony closes the gap between them and kisses him as he holds him tight.

“I love you too,” Tony whispers, breath ghosting over his lips.

“You do?” Steve teases, and just like that, the air is cleared, so much goes unsaid, but Tony has to confirm, stupidly soft.

“I do.”

-

“And do you, Steven Grant Rogers, take Anthony Edward Stark to be your husband?”

“I do,” Steve says, grinning brightly. Nowadays, Tony has absolutely no qualms calling him gorgeous, or beautiful, or handsome (or a dickhead, but they’ve found better ways to resolves their conflicts). He’d say that they’re maturing in their old age (they’ve just left university), but he’s planning to shove cake in Steve’s face, and he’s willing to be that Steve is thinking the same exact thing.

“You may kiss the groom.”

They kiss, soft and chaste, through their smiles.

-

“I can’t believe our courting was pranks,” Tony says, as they pull away. He’s feeling nostalgic tonight, but he’s allowed, it’s his wedding night.

“I can’t believe we didn’t get expelled,” Steve says, littering kisses down his neck.

Tony hums and guides Steve’s face so he can kiss him on the lips, slow and unhurriedly, “Wouldn’t regret it.”

Steve grins. “Neither would I.”

--

iron man bingo masterpost

tell me what you thought?

[c0ffeebee]

noooo did tumblr seriously just send you a "feel better soon!"? There were FIVE LETTERS FROM THE ASK GAME IN THAT MESSAGE AFTER THAT. Urgh. Why does tumblr eat HALF an ask. Okay. Let's try again. Damn it. A, G, R, U, W and Y. I don't remember it that was the ones from this ask of the other I sent, but oh well

yeah, tumblr's a bitch like that TT but thank you for sending it again! 💙

A - Your current OTP(s)/OT3(s)/OTX(s)

well it's no secret that right now i'm mostly invested in kliego, sebjace, harlos, reylo and geraskier, so for now that's it

G - Do you remember your first OTP, if so who was in it

oh god, there were a lot of those even in my childhood, caleb and cornelia from w.i.t.c.h. is the first one that comes to mind, dimitri and anastasia also, but i'm sure there were others, and that was before i discovered fandoms, so for my first real in-fandom otp let's count jasperella, as in jasper and bella from twilight (yes i was weird like that) 

R - A pairing you ship that you don’t think anyone else ships

lol hello again twilight, riley and jasper, that's it, the most rear rear-pair i've ever shipped, which is no surprise because they have so much in common with sebjace it's crazy, and i mean i've read like two fics about them so i'm sure there's at least one other person that ships it, which is really surprising, the thing with that ship is when i was in twilight fandom i was a 15 year old repressed kid raised in a really homophobic environment, so i didn't even consider this to be a ship and yet i was so sad we never got to see them interact, if anyone could have saved riley and if anyone could understand him on the deepest lvl possible it would be jasper, they are pretty much the same character, yin yang shit like sebjace 

U - 5 favorite characters from 5 different fandoms

i have tons of those so it's just five random characters out of dozens of my faves: 

diego hargreeves 

caitlin snow (killer frost) 

newt (the maze runner) 

proinsias cassidy

noora sætre

W - 5 favorite ships and 5 kinks you like best for said ships

ok for this we'll go with the 5 ships i named as my current otps, and i'm not sure those can be called kinks but anyway 

sebjace: 

soulbound - them literally being bound by souls that much that they share physical wounds, emotions, thoughts, dreams, they basically morphed into one, just like sebastian said, can you imagine how much mind blowing porn one can write about that? all one of them has to do it bite his own lip or dig his nails into their own skin for it to instantly echo and show up on the other's body, god it's so beautiful hold me 

yin and yang dynamic, where they are literally the balance between the sides of dark and light, that constant conflict inside both of them

loyalty kink, they never had much of that in their lives so yeah, them being loyal to each other 

runes of course, i mean in general biting and licking of runes and etc, but also the lilith rune and them like touching/kissing the rune on the other and feeling it themselves, also something like one of them drawing the loyalty rune on the other 

fighting as a foreplay, that's it 

kliego: 

softness, so much softness that it hurts, feather light touches and kisses, just ALL THE SOFT 

unrequited love, diego being seriously head over heels in love with klaus since they were teens and klaus never really fully understanding what love is enough to reciprocate it on the same lvl until they are 30, all those years of diego just wanting and yearning and thinking it will never happen, it kills me but i'm always here for it 

bottom diego, don't get me wrong i don't really care about sex positions and i love both when diego tops on fics and when he bottoms, but this fandom doesn't have nearly enough bottom diego fics and i need those 

vulnerability, i love it when both of them are vulnerable with each other on a lvl that they can't be vulnerable on around anyone else 

being each other's safe place since childhood 

harlos: 

 understanding, complete and total, i fully believe those two can understand each other like no other characters can, they both have very similar parents and most likely have gone through similar treatment as kids, so yeah, that 

carlos being more forward and dominant(?) in this relationship, just carlos knowing what he wants and going for it while harry is trying his stupid flirting tactics that don't really work, just in general carlos looking at harry and realizing that he's in some sense a feral dog on uma's leash and carlos is good with wild things and maybe he could hold that leash too sometimes

harry being overwhelmed and scared by feelings, carlos basically killing him with kindness without really meaning too, the sweetest ways in which carlos treats him are harry's ultimate weakness, i can totally see him crying during sex because carlos is just too gentle, too attentive to his needs, too warm and open and everything is just TOO MUCH, because harry is used to it being rough and emotionless and just about getting off, but carlos can't do that, he's all for making love to harry, you see 

harry drawing constellations on carlos's skin using his freckles, just harry being in love with carlos's freckles in general 

small and tall in which small seems to be a sunshine but can be a bitchy asshole and the tall seems like the big bad but in reality can be a lap dog 

reylo: 

again like with sebjace yin and yang, balance between light and dark, soulbound and all that shit, can't get enough of it 

dark rey, a scenario in which when rey finds out how fucked up jedi were she just goes "fuck it all, fuck it all" (with 'let it go' motive) and leaves everyone behind to become the empress of darkness and her and kylo reign forever 

secret lovers which is basically canon, but like them having their force skype dates or even sneaking on "meetings" to places where no one can find them

again fighting as a foreplay

ben solo being alive and well is my biggest fucking kink for them right now 

geraskier:

jaskier being the monster fucker that he is, seeing geralt on some of those potions all scary and dark eyed and having a boner from that instantly 

again vulnerability kink with geralt being vulnerable around jaskier, also like give me all the injured geralt and jaskier who has to help him, i'm always here for it 

jaskier who's weaker physically standing up for and protecting geralt 

bottom geralt again just like with diego because it's rear and interesting to explore

monster jaskier and geralt who has to deal with it 

Y - What are your secondhand fandoms (fandoms you aren’t in personally but are tangentially familiar with because your friends/people on your dash are in them)

probably like hannibal, harry potter, shameless, skam france, wtfock, a lot of those i think 

fandom meme

[letmeringabell]

Legends Never Die - Chapter 3

I debated about posting this until I wrote Chapter 4 so that I could just post 2 chapters at once, because this chapter is just fluff to advance the plot. But I promised myself I would stay consistent in trying to post weekly. This time, I was more relaxed in writing this, and I don’t know if it shows. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this and if you have any Mortal Kombat fanfics to recommend, please do. 

Link on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20806688/chapters/49668056

-

The nights in Outworld are no different from Earthrealm; The night sky is just as pitch black, and stretches as far as her eyes can see, the sounds of the nightlife; the music and laughter are a pleasant blur in the distance. But what amazes her are the stars – They are abundant in their numbers, and shine just as brightly. Her pace slows down into a leisurely lilt, her steps are light against the earthy pavement, and her head is up high to gaze at the stars.

Even when the days are long, and seem like they have no end, even when there is no semblance of certainty in her life, seeing the stars always makes her dream.

“You’re late,” a stern voice greets her from the backyard, less than impressed.

“I know, I know. I got caught up with work, and lost track of time, won’t happen again,” She apologizes earnestly, but she can already tell that Cassie and Jacqui are rolling their eyes at her. Both of them know that it won’t be her last rodeo in tardiness, Vanessa’s dedication to her work is boundless and she pursues it with great zeal and enthusiasm. She is one of the best medics in her field, but as a timekeeper, she is as useless as a fish is to the sky.

Vanessa plops herself in the seat beside Cassie’s with a tired huff, expecting a midnight snack of Hot Chocolate and biscuits. Oddly enough, she is greeted by the sight Grilled Beef, Pasta, Pizza accompanied by sides of Caesar Salad and Garlic Bread. She looks over at Cassie and Jacqui confused—Were they having someone over tonight?

“Is there a special occasion that I forgot about?” She had nervously inquired, eyes darting over from Cassie to Jacqui repeatedly. Both of them look at each other expectedly, but neither of them wanted to give her an answer. There’s something fishy in the air; What were they hiding, and why?

Darkness swarms her vision, the feeling of warm hands rest on her eyes. Oh Lord, I’ve gone blind, is the first thought that came to mind, but the warmth felt familiar, and almost recognizable, that it brings a knowing smile to her face.

“Takeda! You’re here!” She jumps and engulfs him in a tight hug, “When did you reach Outworld?”

“I’ve been here since like, 2 hours ago. I personally wanted to see you earlier, but uh, I got occupied,” He ends his sentence with an awkward pause, and everyone is made painfully aware of the implied distraction. Everyone sighs in exasperation at the lovers’ antics, before taking their seats at the table. The night begins with the passing of plates, and the taking of food; Cassie and Jacqui already have their hands on the pizza, Takeda slices a few thin layers of grilled beef for himself, and Kenshi is carefully forking the pasta onto his plate.

Takeda starts the conversation, “So, what have you been up to, Van? I didn’t get to see you before you left.”

“Are you sure you weren’t ‘occupied’ with other things?” She teases light-heartedly, earning a graceful choke from Jacqui, “Before I left, I was training the new recruits. Now, I’m just nose-deep in my research.”

“What are you researching on this time?” Cassie asks, fishing another slice of pizza for herself.

“The herbs and flowers of Outworld, mostly their medicinal properties. I feel like I’m slowly turning into a witch from a Disney movie, a little eye of newt here, and a virgin’s tear there, and poof! The stuff blows up in my face, and I’m left black, blue or purple.”

“But doesn’t the Palace have a library and a book with that information? It would save you the time, and embarrassment.”

“I’ve got a few, but they’re at least centuries old, and as far as old wives tales go, they’re pretty outdated. So, I decided to update it myself.”

“You sure that’s the only thing you’ve been doing?” Jacqui slides in slyly, the suggestive undertones aren’t missed by anyone, because all of their heads are turning, directing their full attention towards her. Vanessa feels her face heat up under the scrutiny, as she tries to nonchalantly fork noodles into her mouth so that she wouldn’t have to speak but Cassie is having none of it, because the blonde is jabbing her sides persistently.

“Come on, Van. Who is it this time? Is it one of the doctors? Or, is it one of the guards at the gate? He’s pretty cute too.”

“Actually, it’s the Big Bad Wolf himself, Erron Black.”

Cassie scoffs, the snark comes in full blast, “Really? Him? You can’t be serious, Van! YOU! CAN! DO! BET-TER!”

“It’s nothing like that, Cass, Jacqui,” She punctuates, shooting a pointed look towards her smug friend, “I was just stitching him up, nothing more, nothing less.”

“Yeah, yeah. I saw what went down. Both of you were making bedroom eyes at each other, bet if I didn’t walk in, y’all would’ve made out,” Jacqui sings and jumps on Takeda’s lap, making faces and loud, exaggerated kissing noises to emphasize her point.

“What is he like?” This time, Kenshi enters the conversation as a way to distract from the couple’s obvious PDA.

“He is… Intense,” She answers honestly, the afternoon’s stunt refreshes itself in her head without permission.

The way he had caged her in between him and her chair, leaning forward so she had nowhere else to look at, but him. She would’ve been lying if she said that she didn’t feel something; The electric tension had upset the calm in her room, the expectation and anticipation of sinful acts escalating between them left her heart aflutter, the small voice of indecision whispering in the back of her head. She was almost certain that he would’ve leaned in, so she could’ve justified kicking him in the nuts.

But he didn’t – He waited. At the time, she thought that he had been messing around with her for shits and giggles. However, in retrospect, she realized that he was leaving the choice in her hands. Whatever his reasons were, are unknown to her and she could hardly bring up the energy to care.

Although, what did he think of her, when she decided not to do anything?

“Every time, we touch, I get this feeling-“

“CAN IT, JACQUI!” Vanessa howls as she shoves garlic bread aggressively into the black girl’s mouth, effectively shutting her up and making everyone around the table laugh at Jacqui’s muffled yelps.

-

“I have a small request to ask of Special Forces.”

That morning had startled Cassie -- The coffee in Outworld is really strong. However, seeing Jade wait in her office accompanied by the silent gunslinger, it what surprises her the most. The tall Osh-tekk nor the warrior princess are anywhere in sight, (and despite their scuffle two weeks before) Cassie begrudgingly acknowledges Erron’s presence under the guise of professionalism.

“There has been another outbreak in one of the nearby villages. Kotal and Kitana are already there, but I want your medic to help with their investigation and nurse the villagers back to health.”

“What happened to your doctors?”

Jade huffs, slightly miffed, “They have tried, but they were unsuccessful. Kotal suspects that there might be elements of foul-play, Kitana and I think it’s just his nerves. Whatever it is, we need you to be down there.”

The commander is silent, her eyes downcast in pensive thought. Kotal already has Special Forces under high alert – There had been two teams designated for search and patrol, with both teams rotating between night and day. The day squad has just been dispatched, while the night squad had just returned for the day. It would be possible to send a team for the excursion, since Jade has asked help for that afternoon alone. On the other hand, everyone’s worn out, and even soldiers cannot run on willpower alone.

If she sent a team out now, and something untoward were to happen, all of them wouldn’t stand a chance.

“I can send out a team, on two conditions.”

“Name it.”

“One, give my soldiers 3 hours of rest before sending them out there. Two, convince Kotal to reduce the amount of patrols he wants to send out.”

“Deal. I will talk to Kotal about relaxing the patrols for a while,” Jade agrees before excusing herself out of the Commander’s office with the Cowboy trailing after her.

“You’ll be joining Special Forces today as well, Erron. Have everyone ready in 3 hours.”

“Is there really a point to this?” Erron asks, and Jade catches the irritation and slight frustration in his voice.

“I assure you, the Special Forces are-“

“I’m talking about the whole damn fiasco, Jade. It’s a waste of time.”

He tells her frankly. Sure, Kotal wants to maintain the peace between the realms and reaching out to the Special Forces had been the first step. But, Outworld is self-sufficient; All of them were natural survivors, born and bred. It has always been their way of life, and no amount of cozying up to other realms will change that because at the end of the day, it’s every man for himself. Self-interest outweighs the need for balance and prosperity almost all the time, and he’s willing to bet that the Special Forces wouldn’t hesitate to stab them in the back if there was an opportunity to.

So yes, to further emphasize his point, it’s bullshit. No amount of money or gold, will ever change his mind.

Jade doesn’t rebuff him nor does she fully agree with his confession, and her reply is anything but neutral, “Kotal and Kitana don’t share your skepticism, but I understand the concern. However, if Kotal demands it, do we really have the choice to say no?”

-

Knock Knock

“Miss Vanessa?” He calls out to her, and enters her room. Normally, his Southern manners would prevent him from entering without consent, but Missy Elliot over here is 10 minutes behind for the designated assembly call-time, and if he didn’t call her out now, her tardiness would delay their departure.

Instead of a panicked, wide-awake doctor, he is greeted by the sight of her sleeping form, and her expression makes him chuckle to himself. The furrowed brows, the downturned lips and the tensed jaw – Whatever she’s cooking up in her dreams, she looks ready to pick a fight with anyone in her sleep. He takes a seat on the chair beside her table, and picks up one of the sheets of paper to read, curious to know what’s been her cup of tea lately.

(And maybe, he would let her sleep for another five minutes.)

-

(1791 words)

[galaxiesandstarlightinherveins]

Fae!AU Chapter 3

It had been almost two months since the fateful encounter in the woods. Newt had decided to behave and stuck to London, hardly leaving the boundaries for anything. The meeting with the dark lord had left him spooked, afraid that he was going to pop out at any moment to try and convince him to join his cause. Theseus was both  overjoyed at keeping Newt close to him and baffled at the change in Newt’s behavior.  Though Newt knew that if Theseus was ever to find out about his encounter with dark lord, there would be a guard on him 24/7 and no chance of leaving London until this bloody war was over. 

Not after yet another failed meeting to appeal his travel ban. The ministry was willing to lift it on the condition that Newt joined his brother in taking down Grindelwald. That meant an office job which therefore means limited traveling regardless if any at all. Not only that, but he’d be force to work the daily grind with paperwork and people who won’t even pretend to like him. It was his worse fear, especially after years of being free to go where he wanted and do what he wished. The fair folk he dealt with often called him a wild thing, one who shouldn’t be bound by such things human rules and office jobs. No, he belonged to the forests and the beasts and places left untouched by man, such was his namesake. 

Newt made his way back to his house wary of the auror that Theseus had warned would follow him. Dumbledore was trying to get his attention and it couldn’t have come at a worse time. The ministry was already suspicious of their interactions and of Dumbledore’s influence. He really didn’t need to give them anymore reasons to keep him trapped in London.  He lost his tail in a hurricane and grabbed the glove apparating him to his former professor on what was perhaps the most conspicuous rooftop in all of London. 

Albus Dumbledore, his former professor and what was probably one of his only and consequently closest friends, stood on the ledge. He casted a nebulous spell causing a fog to descend upon London. The disappareated to Trafalgar Square. Dumbledore asked him about his meeting with the ministry. Newt explained that they suspected Dumbledore of sending Newt to New York. Which was true. 

It was Dumbledore that led him to the thunderbird in Egypt and he must have known that, of course, Newt was going to take him back home by taking a muggle port through New York City. Where Grindelwald was masquerading as the Director of Magical Security with an obscurial on the lose. An obscurial that Newt would not, could not, leave behind so obviously Newt was going to get involved thus leading them to current affairs. 

Then they head up in a muggle bus and Dumbledore had the nerve to ask him to go to Paris. The city that Newt had no desire to be anywhere near for the rest of eternity. Dumbledore wanted him to go to Credence and do what exactly? Protect him? Or protect others from him?  Hope that the rumors were true and that he was Leta’s long lost brother. His former professor handed him a card. Written on it was the address to a safe house in Paris for, you know, a cup of tea. 

They end up on Lambeth Bridge and Newt had to explain, again, that he was banned from international travel lest he gets put into Azkaban. Dumbledore tells him that he admires him and isn’t that a shocker. Someone as esteemed as Dumbledore admires him, the strange magizoologist who spends more time amongst beasts then men.  He respects him for the fact that Newt didn’t want power or fame. No, he simply just wanted to do what is right. 

Dumbledore tells him that it has to be him to go against Grindelwald, but would he be saying that if he knew what happened two months ago in that forest. Would he still be sending to help Credence despite that? Or would he shun him like most everybody else does and look at with barely concealed annoyance?

Dumbledore leaves him with the card. 

Later on that evening, after dealing with the baby nifflers and the kelpie, Newt finds Queenie and Jacob in his house. It was a surprise, especially considering that Jacob wasn’t supposed to have any memory of him whatsoever. The two came to England to get married, but Newt could tell that something was wrong. A sense for magic came with his Sight and he knew that Jacob was under an enchantment. Newt undid the magic and watched as Jacob became more alert and focused. He felt remorse when Jacob returned from running after Queenie, despondent and confused. What to do now? 

Queenie went after Tina who was in Paris, for what purpose though? Paris. The city that Dumbledore wanted to him go against his ban to go to. The city where Credence was rumored to be in. It was where Grindelwald had invited him to months ago. Something big was happening and it was going be in Paris. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good and a sense of dread crept down his spine and settled heavily in his stomach.  

Newt glanced at the drawer where he had hidden an invitation from a certain dark lord. It gave him the exact details of the night which Grindelwald had so graciously invited him to all those weeks ago. He really had tried to burn the damned thing, but every attempt at destroying it was thwarted by whatever charms Grindelwald had been inclined to cast on it. He was suspicious that it was a port key of some kind, designed to take him Paris when it was time. He was rather fortunate that the invitation held no clue as to who the sender was and that the message in it was vague enough that no one else could decipher its meaning. 

Jacob looked at him bemused and Newt stared back in resignation. In a flurry of movements, Newt left multiple notes for Bunty for her to take care of everyone why he was gone and that he took the nifflers. Jacob is elated that they’re going to Paris to follow after Queenie. 

“You mustn’t tell anyone of this, ok?” He grabbed ahold of Jacob as to not lose the muggle in the Faeryland.  It was easy for him to go from one side of the veil to the other and it made it convenient to travel between countries without being traced. It was quick. 

So, the two ended in Paris. Jacob was still reeling from the sensation of traveling between realms even though to Jacob it was just a rather simple journey through a rather unremarkable forest. Newt immediately set to track Tina, knowing that Queenie would go to her. Niff was a huge help in that regard. He was disconcerted by the presence of a Zouwu and knew that he’ll be needing to go after it sooner rather then later. 

Newt tracks Tina through a man who then goes to trap them both only to convulse and pass out on the ground. Well, this certainly was a fantastic start to a rescue attempt. Picket gets them out of the prison and they hear a deafening roar. He immediately knows it to be the zouwu. 

It’s scared and lashing out and Newt will not leave it behind regardless of the current happenings. Newt goes to the zouwu and, much to the surprise of everyone watching, lures it into his case. Amid the following chaos, the four of them -Newt, Tina, Jacob, and the one guy- disapparate to Dumbledore’s safe house. 

Newt allows Tina to handle the man while he takes care of the zouwu. He wanted to make sure it was settled in and to get that Merlin forsaken harness off of it. Just looking at him filled him with disdained and anger. 

Tina calls him up and with one last look, Newt reluctantly leaves his case. There are water parasites in the man’s -his name is Kama according to Tina- eyes and he manages to pull them out. Tina starts to head out to the French ministry to tell them of what she knows. Newt follows her after Jacob tells him to go after her. He’s not sure as to why Jacob is so insistent of him and her together. Though he supposes that this isn’t the time or place to think much of it. He made a mental note to ask Jacob later about it. 

Grindelwald’s banners take over the city and the damnable invitation in his pocket felt heavier then ever. He knew not why he decided to bring it with him. Maybe he thought it could aid them? Or perhaps there was a part of him that wanted to hear what Grindelwald had to say. A dark part that grew up amongst fae and elves. That has experienced the darker wonders of magic and seen the stuff that nightmares are made of. The part of him that traveled between realms at a whim. That changling side of him who is attracted by power. Grindelwald’s power. 

Dumbledore was correct in that Newt didn’t want power for himself. However, like most faeries, there was something about magical power that drew him in. The fae were often attracted by those who were talented and powerful in one way or another and he, as he has learned, was no different. The side of him that was still moral, still human, knew that Grindelwald must be stopped. 

Newt leads Tina to the French Ministry of Magic in hopes that the Lestrange box could be what helps them to save Credence. Grindelwald may have him now, but there is still hope that they can reach him. Credence had to be his priority and not the warring between the two different aspects of himself. 

He transfigures himself to look like Theseus using the Polyjuice potion he keeps on hand just in case. Tina puts Theseus into his place and it was glorious. Perhaps the best thing he’s ever seen. The two of them sneak into the archives only to find Leta and that the box was missing. All three of them escape via zouwu after being attacked by the metagots. 

A sense of dread settles into the bottom of his stomach. All of this didn’t make any sense. It wasn’t adding up. Though it was funny, he supposed, that he was going to end up in the one place he swore to never go. Grindelwald got what he wanted after all. One night to change his mind. To make him choose a side. 

They end up in the Lestrange tomb at Père Lachaise and somehow Newt is not surprise to see Credence or Kama. Then Kama tells them of the story of the Lestrange and the baby that Leta and thought for the longest time was lost. Still is for Credence wasn’t a Lestrange and the look upon his face breaks his heart. 

A doorway opens up suddenly and it leads them to an amphitheater. Newt follows after Jacob (how did he?) and the rest follow thereafter. He loses track of Jacob and they are surrounded by Grindelwald’s followers. He fears for his muggle friend but can’t go to help him lest they attract attention. 

It’s a trap. All of this was bait to lure Credence... To lure him, he realized with a sickening start. Grindelwald knew he wouldn’t leave Credence once he found him. He gets Credence and Newt will follow. Newt’s never been one to leave anyone behind after all. Tina and him separate, her to find the others and him to do something. He’ll think of something, he said, but what could he do? All he wants to do is grab his friends and leave this Morgana forsake place before Grindelwald sees him. 

He’s being watched and so he joins the crowd, hoping to hide among the others. Grindelwald comes out on the stage acting every ounce of the prima donna he is. 

Newt knows instantly when the dark lord sees him for his eyes brighten and focus on him for a moment before sweeping across the rest of the crowd. 

Grindelwald speaks of a new world. A world where they could be free, no longer in hiding from muggles. He shows them yet another war among the muggles. An all encompassing war that will leave millions dead. How long until the muggles wage war upon them? 

Aurors arrive and Grindelwald calls them out into the open. A young witch goes to attack an auror but the auror strikes first and she falls down dead. Outrage sweeps the the crowd as Grindelwald goes to the fallen witch to cradle her. He gives her to her companions and tells the crowd to leave and tell the world of what occurred here. That the aurors were the ones to strike first. 

The dark lord surrounds himself with fiendfyre and his followers come to surround him. All but one who is consumed by the flames and turned into dust. The dark lord commands the aurors to pledge their loyalty to him or suffer the consequence. 

Newt sees Credence start to cross the flames to reach Grindelwald and tries to rush to his side. He couldn’t let Credence cross. Couldn’t let the dark lord get his hands on him. He failed him the first time, he couldn’t do so the again. He is joined by his brother and together they try to fight the flames. He sees his Niffler and quickly picks her up. He hides her in his coat as he tighten his grip on his case. 

Leta calls out to Grindelwald and Newt is terrified. He doesn’t think, can only act. He doesn’t realize that his eyes are a shining gold as he fights across the flames, using every bit of magic he knows - fae and human. Theseus calls out his name, calls out Leta’s name, and tries to follow; but he can only do so much to keep the fire at bay. 

Grindelwald’s eyes focus on him and he’s grinning. Newt realizes that he’s fallen in some kind of trap only when he pushes Leta towards his brother and away from harm. He, himself, now faces the fire’s threat of being consumed. 

“Mr. Scamander, surely you see the truth of what I say.” He says, holding his wand towards him. Newt feels the pull of magic trying to bring him to the dark lord. “Think of the world we could create for your creatures. Isn’t that what you want? What of a world where you wouldn’t be shun for being different.”

His words triggered something in him. That fae in him, that is already attracted to the dark lords particular brand of magic, wants to follow. The freedom that is promised is such sweet temptation. Freedom for himself and for his creatures. That’s all he’s ever wanted. But at what cost? How many will die? 

“They don’t understand you, do they?” Grindelwald continues as if he senses the internal debate. The two sides of him at war: the fae that wants nothing more than what is promised and the human that is tired of death and just wants peace.  “Not even your brother, I wonder?” 

The fire parts between them. Newt tries to run, tries to get back to Theseus who reaches out to him in the flames. But something holds him still. No, Grindelwald holds him still. He looks to Leta in desperation and she nods at him in understanding. He sees her pull Theseus away from the flames, away from him just as he finds himself in Grindelwald’s arms. 

He hears the others call his name and he reaches out again but they disappear in a blur as he is apparated away. They land in in what appears to be a castle. Disorientated, he turns around to face Grindelwald who’s eyes are alight and there is a smirk on his face.

“You said I had a choice” Newt whispers before fainting in the dark lord’s arms. 

[queenslasharchive]

Another Damn (Vam)pire Story, Chapter 4 (The Prologue)

(Author’s note: This is the epilogue of Another Damn (Vam)pire Story, but not of the Another One Bites At Dusk Series. You’ll be seeing more installments soon! :) 

Also: We do not support pedophiles or non-con here. Amy and Robbie’s (more than platonic) relationship is completely consensual and doesn’t occur until Robbie is a grown ass adult who can make his own decisions about who he wants to love and be with. :)

Bapuji: Robbie’s name for Freddie, father in Gujarati. Bunic: grandfather in Romanian.)

“Eye of newt, and toe of frog, 

Wool of bat, and tongue of dog, 

Adder’s fork, and blind-worm’s sting, 

Lizard’s leg, and owlet’s wing,— 

For a charm of powerful trouble, 

Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. 

Double, double toil and trouble; 

Fire burn, and caldron bubble.” 

― William Shakespeare

Robbie Deacon met The Devil when he was seven years old. 

And he wasn’t talking about his Bunic either, Froggie’s father. 

Actually, Amy was a Prince of Hell, so just a powerful demon. Not exactly The Devil but close enough. 

He met his then-contractor at a street carnival in Piccadilly Circus, he had a pocket full of 10 quid and a line of younger siblings trailing after him like a clutch of eager ducklings.

Mikey, Lo, Jimmy and even little Felix, a too-warm wet face nuzzled into his neck as he toted the vampiric toddler along. 

Their fathers had been busy preparing for a show at the time, leaving the kids to their own devices or in the care of their usual Nanny Freestone. (Of course they’d snuck away from Uncle Phoebe. It was all they ever did). 

The babies, Lulu and Rory, were still with their minder.

While an excited Mikey made them stop and stare at every shop window as they passed by. Lo and Felix were gumming at Robbie’s mustard-colored hair or yanking at it in fistfuls. Jimmy had his face buried in Robbie’s tummy like an angry little limpet as they waddled along.  

Being a big brother right sucked sometimes. 

Mikey raced on ahead of them, until he collided sharply with a pair of black jeans that sent him falling backwards onto his bum, arms pinwheeling as he went down with a soft oomph.

The tall redhead scowled down at Robbie’s little brother, as though the poor kid had killed somebody instead of just being his overexcited self. 

Robbie raced over (well, as fast as he could race with all his attachments) and dragged his little brother to his feet, positioning himself between Mikey and the scary redhead. 

“Sorry, sir. He’s just excited.”

Robbie really didn’t sound all that apologetic, but he smiled anyway. 

Concealing his birth-father’s temperament behind his soft child features. 

“It is okay, Robert.” 

The tall man hummed and Robbie thought that was the end of it, dragging the kids along with him. But he stiffened mid-turn. How did he…?

“Come.”

The man wasn’t smiling, but he seemed warmer somewhat as he beckoned, fingers curling towards his palm in a come hither motion. 

Robbie’s arms were suddenly weighed down, heavy as anvils with the children who rested there.

He remembered being utterly terrified of the redheaded man, in his dark clothes and rattling chain jewelry. It was like a nod to one of the ghosts from A Christmas Story. 

The seven-year-old was planning on just plain running, until he saw the glint of something strange in those dark feral eyes. Oh no. 

“Mikey, take the kids and go to Uncle Phoebe. Now.”

He passed over Felix and Lo near seamlessly and Jimmy obediently took Mikey’s hand at Robbie’s behest. “Run, and don’t look back.”

“But…” He saw his little brother’s lip start to quiver and he shook his head slightly, eyes wide. 

‘Remember Froggie’s lessons?’ He mouthed pointedly, as clarity dawned in his little brother’s eyes this is what he trained us for and in the next second the younger was practically flitting away, off to get help and their little siblings to safety.

As Robbie turned back to the redheaded man looming before him, tiny hands curled into fists as he stood his ground. 

Trying to portray his whole defense with his eyes alone. My Froggie, one of my fathers, has fangs half the time, and my baby brother does too. My Uncle Phoebe is a hairy scary werewolf. You aren’t all that impressive, bruv. 

“Come, Robert. We have an engagement.” 

The redheaded man, his demon, his soon-contractor, Amy before he knew him as Amy, took him by the hand.

One tiny soft (human) hand wrapped in a huge clawed other. 

“How did you know my name?” 

Petulant, with his bottom lip jutting out plaintively as he was tugged along into the shadows. The walls around them seemed to ripple, all the colors and lights were swimming around and around and made him nauseous. He used the redheaded man’s hand to anchor him. 

“Are you here to hurt my family?” 

That question came out more demanding than the first, and when neither was answered, he ripped his hand away.

Teeth gritted tight and his nose wrinkled, spinning around with fists raised. As if he could actually defend himself against one of Froggie’s enemies. 

The room stopped moving the moment their hands disconnected. 

The demon before him was less than impressed. 

“I’m not here to take anything from you, or to hurt anyone you love, Robert. In fact, I’m here to give you a gift.”

Robbie’s narrowed suspiciously. “I don’t want The Bite or a Turning.” He wasn’t stupid. 

The redheaded man smiled. 

“I am not a werewolf or a vampire, little Deacon. I created them.” The creature came closer and closer, until they were right in front of each other, close enough to touch. “Oh no, I am here to give you a gift that will let you help your family, keep them safe, and thwart the laws of life and death.” 

“That’s impossible. Besides my family is full of immortals anyway. I don’t need you.”

Scowling, pudgy arms crossed and lips pursed like a pair of taut strings. 

“The living dead cannot die.” Robbie froze. “That little brother of yours? With the diluted vampiric blood? Enjoy his maybe twelve years of life, before the vampiric blood destroys the marrow of his long bones and takes his life with it.” Robbie looked up with genuine fear in his big blue eyes. 

“Felix? That’s going to happen to… I’ll be able to save Felix with your gift?”

The demon nodded, extending a hand again. 

“You’ll be able to save them all.”

Robbie Deacon, seven years old and raised by human monsters, peered at that hand suspiciously once more. “What’s the catch?”

“I, Avnas, Prince of Hell and 58th spirit of the Goetia, will have claim to your human soul.”

Robbie Deacon gave claim of his soul to a demon when he was seven years old. 

He became a contract-witch that day, a future warrior of Amy’s thirty-six legion army. 

One of the damned. 

-X-

“Why me?” 

Robbie would ask in later years, sleeping with his head pillowed in Amy’s lap after one of their consensual midnight excursions. 

He would ask it as a man, with a halo of mustardseed curls around his head, a pentacle scar on his palm and a tongue like a viper. His porcelain fingers interlaced with a hand that had once been so big. 

The redheaded demon’s blue flames licked at his skin like the raspy tongue of a cat, tickling rather than burning as the witch snuggled closer to his contractor, his demon, his lover.

Amy used his actual forked tongue to play with Robbie’s pointed ear, bending the cartilage back and forth, back and forth, before he spoke. 

“I am all-knowing, all seeing, carissimus.” The latin word term of endearment sent a pleasant shiver up his spine. “I saw more than you as a stubborn child back then, I saw what you would become.”

Blue eyes met red. 

“You knew that you’d love me one day?” Robbie smiled, smugly like the cat who’d gotten the cream. Amy rolled his eyes and lightly pinched the younger man’s backside, making him pout something fierce. 

“No, you cheeky little imp.”

Before Amy, he wouldn’t have known that a Prince of Hell could blush.

“The love is all your fault. Nobody else but you would fall in love with a demon. Perhaps there’s something wrong up here.” Gently knocking on the side of Robbie’s head.

The witch shrugged, wiggling even closer. 

“My Dad fell in love with a half-vampire, So I guess like-father-like-son. We both love the dangerous types, the ones who could probably kill us.” He furrowed his brow, still pouting. “But …If not love then what?”

“I saw what you could do, what you were going to be…My boss didn’t want you fighting on the side of the angels.”

Those hands, burning with blue hellfire, gently rubbed their thumbs across his cheekbones. 

“I just wanted a soldier.”

Robbie snapped his teeth instead, in a beautifully gory smile. A man who wouldn’t bow, who wouldn’t be tamed. “Funny, ‘cause if I remember correctly, I’m the one who wanted you.” 

-X-

Robbie knew that his Bapuji was sick, long before the adults bothered to tell them anything.

But they knew. 

At least poor Felix certainly did. The little boy could smell it, the same way the cats could. Sometimes he would have to cover his nose and mouth and run into another room to cry. Things were really really bad. 

For the rest of the kids it was just a suspicion, but it wasn’t hard to see the looming death-sentence with the way everyone else acted around him. Hell, around them. They weren’t that dull. 

Bapuji was always smiling though, smiling widely with all his teeth exposed, as he would ask them what they wanted for Christmas and their birthdays. Even if their birthday had just gone by. He went shopping over and over and over again. And sometimes he would spend hours in the garden painting. 

When Robbie found the little clutch of presents for each of them, hidden away in a room upstairs, with different dates and birthdays written on them in Bapuji’s careful hand, he stiffened and closed it again.

Running to his room before he burst into tears. 

He was thirteen years old, still in the stage of his platonic frenemy relationship with Amy, that was far more hate than anything else… although edging towards eventual begrudging acceptance. 

When he awoke in the middle of the night to the demon’s voice himself, shaking him awake, he scowled and almost cast a spell from sheer irritation but…

“Robert, your Roger is dying. He tried to…”

“…Turn, Bapuji.” His raw more-than-awake voice finished for the demonic entity speaking inside his head and he threw himself out of bed. “Shit!” 

Snatching up his rusted bloody athame, ceremonial knife, from the little locked box he kept hidden behind the wooden slats underneath his bed, and an old book that Amy had given him, after he’d used his own blood to sign his name on the first page. It had become his, the ritualistic Book of Shadows of a contract-witch. 

Then he was running down the hallways and a flight of twisty stairs as fast as his pink socked feet would allow him to do so. 

Cursing both the carpeting and Bapuji’s penchant for pretty things, every time he nearly tripped and flung himself into the sun with the force of it.

He knew the way to his fathers’ room, nestled as it was in the center of the house like a heartbeat, because he’d traversed the path multiple times a day, from the time he was old enough to be autonomously mobile.

Of course he loved his Mum, the way a child is always wont to do.

The same way he loved his Aunts and Uncles Joe and Phoebe. But his fathers were something else entirely.

Froggie, Bapuji, Dad, Brimi, they were his primary parents. Sure, his Mum was as well, especially on tour stuff, and the Uncles and Aunts had been loving on him since the day they’d arrived. But his relationship with those four was something special.

It no accident that he called his siblings, his siblings. 

Despite the differing blood in their veins.

He careened into that room with all the decorum of a battering ram, nearly taking his eye out with the fucking casting knife as his hip slammed against an end table near the door and shattered a fancy purple vase. Fuck.

He was just about to apologize too, on reflex, when he actually processed what was happening in the room before his eyes. 

Holy. Fucking. Shit. 

Joe was shaking in the corner, arms wrapped tightly around himself and eyes shut against the world. 

Bapuji was crying at the end of the bed, held safe in Uncle Jim’s arms, turned away from where Robbie could see, all he could see was the hair… hair that was longer than he remembered, a lither body too… and the quaking shoulders as he sobbed.

Brimi was on the floor, legs tucked under him and staring at the carpet, not even making a sound. Like he’d just crashed there or something. Unable to move, think or even breathe. 

It was the scene on the bed though, that really made Robbie feel ill. 

Phoebe, Dad and his Bunic, his grandfather Vlad, were feverishly working over a corpse with fanned out dark hair and the same round features as Felix. 

Froggie.

But also not Froggie at all. 

Despite his chaotic entrance, it was if nobody had so much as seen him, a veritable ghost as he neared the bed, eyes wide and horrified, pupils stretched from corner-to-corner of his blue irises. 

His Bunic was biting Froggie’s arms and chest, over and over and over again. 

Phoebe was doing the same on his end, hoping that at least one venom would take hold, and it looked as if someone had tried to force the corpse, that thing lying akimbo that was once Froggie, to drink as his full lips were smeared with crimson blood. 

His Dad was doing CPR, pounding on Froggie’s chest with the whole of his body weight, as if desperate to get the dead heart beneath his hands to start beating once more.

It was utterly devastating to see. 

His Dad wasn’t normally good with emotions, unless it was anger or upset. But the man on top of Froggie was frenzied, sobbing so hard and screaming complete nonsense, that it was a wonder that he had enough air to blow into the corpse’s mouth at all. Forcing the chest up and down, up and down. 

But it wasn’t catching, it wasn’t doing anything.

That spark inside the corpse, that spark that had once made Froggie, Froggie, was just gone.

That thing wasn’t their Froggie anymore. 

His hand reached out, and he felt all of two years old again, reaching out for Froggie to kiss his booboos better, a tiny pale hand that always found a home inside a too-warm one. 

A slightly larger pale hand now touched that same skin and it was chilled like ice. He recoiled at the wrongness of the sensation. 

“Froggie.” He whimpered. 

Something that finally seemed to spurn the acknowledgment of the other living beings in the room. Although now it was Robbie who couldn’t look away from the dead. 

“Robbie.” Phoebe sounded strangled. “Robbie, please go back to bed.” A forced tearful smile that never reached his eyes. 

“…There’s nothing you can do.”

“He wouldn’t want you to see him like this.” His Dad sounded utterly destroyed, his voice was wrecked and almost as bad as he looked.

“Well, I don’t give a damn about what he wants!” Blood pooled in Robbie’s cheeks. His teeth were gritted tightly and he flung his athame and blood book onto the bed, climbing up on his hands and knees to join them. “I’m going to save his life!” 

Vlad blinked at him, and those ruddy feral eyes honed in on the ritualistic items before him. His mouth falling open slightly in shock. Robbie could see the fangs playing peekaboo there.

Then his gaze turned back to his fallen son and he was resolute all at once. 

“What do you want us to do?”

His Dad was aghast. “Robbie, what are you on about?” A sad laugh as he stopped giving chest compressions and sat back with a tearful desolation about him. “Love, there’s nothing you can do.” He sounded like he was already dead. His father opened his arms for a hug or maybe absolution, but Robbie simply shook his head, setting his jaw tightly as he took his Book of Shadows into his arms. 

He opened it to a blank page and used the sharp edge of the cover to garner a drop of blood from his thumb. Pressing it to the parchment. 

Amy, I need candles for the circle and symbols of earth, air, fire and water to call each corner. 

Please. 

“Here you are, little witch.”

The candles were made of long strips of white and black wax, life and death, five that he set to one side, a vial of water (at least he sincerely hoped it was water), and a handful of …dirt.

Yes, of course, thank you so much Amy for this handful of old black dirt without a container. 

“Cheeky little brat.”

He resisted the urge to stick out his tongue. 

Instead he snatched up the candles and all but threw them into his Bunic’s arms. “Here! Make a circle around the bed but don’t light them.” 

“What are you doing, darling? Where did those come from?!” 

His Bapuji’s voice sounded weird.

Not a bad kind of weird, but like he’d never smoked a ciggie before in his life or ever even gotten sick in the first place. Robbie turned over to see blood tears drying on a Bapuji that he’d only ever seen on old album covers, except this one had red eyes, fangs that stuck out farther than his existing teeth and a strange feral sheen about him, with the way he focused on everything Robbie was holding. 

The only thing the little witch could say was: “Oh God, it actually worked.”

The next thing was: “I summoned them. Please I’ve got to heal him, Bapuji. I need you to get Brimi off the floor and Uncle Joe out of the corner. Please trust me, I can do this!” His voice was verging on the desperate and his Bapuji must have seen something there, because he jumped into action. 

Uncle Jim helped as well, his Uncle Jim who looked at him in a way that he never had before.

Almost with something akin to fear. Fear of him or fear for him, the boy didn’t know.

“Bri, please get on the bed, love… Yes, there. Now that’s the ticket.”

“Joe, darling, come we can’t do this without you.”

It was only when they were all on the bed, looking at him in varying states of shock and confusion that he picked up his athame again. 

And used the sharpness to carve a pentacle into the soft pale flesh of his hand.

Blood welled up from the deep slashes in his flesh, like oil from the deep dark recesses of the earth. His Bapuji swallowed hard, turning away from the blood with the trembling form of a newly turned vampire, while his Dad cried out and snatched up his son’s injured hand with his own. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

Trying to blot at the raw flesh as if to stop the bleeding.

Robbie snatched his hand back defiantly. Setting his jaw against the only person who could out-stubborn him. Their usual peacekeeper was a corpse between them.

“Robert Deacon!”

He completely ignored his father and turned to the group at large. 

“Join hands and don’t scream.”

He took the dirt into his own.

“I call to the guardians of the North! Children of the earth and new life! Hear my cry, bring back your son who cannot die!”

He spoke in a voice that wasn’t his own. But one that wasn’t Amy’s either, his casting voice was deep, raw and gravelly like it was being dragged up from the very pits of hell. Blue flames exploded in his palms to burn up the dirt, and the candles at the front of the bed lit up with hellish light. 

Then the vial of water. 

“I call to the guardians of the West! Children of the sea and change! Hear my cry, bring back one who cannot die!” 

Then he paused. Looking at the many faces pressed in a circle around him, looking at him like they never had before. Like in that moment he wasn’t their son, he wasn’t little Robbie Deacon anymore. He was a monster. A thing of nightmares. 

“I need something made of metal to call the guardians of fire…”

Instantly his Bunic was pressing a black steel ring with the face of a gargoyle into his hand. 

“I call to the guardians of the South! Children of fire and passion! Hear my cry, bring back a father who cannot die!”

Then he held his athame into the air, still dripping with his own blood. 

“I call to the guardians of the East! Children of air and loss! Hear my cry, save one who cannot die!” 

Suddenly the entire room was ablaze with hellfire, flames that wouldn’t burn anything except for what Robbie wanted them to. His eyes were closed as he reached out and laid a hand on his Froggie’s bare chest. 

“Lower, Robert. Find his iliac crest, where his blood cells are made. Wake up the marrow.”

He slid his hands down lower, to hug his father’s hips. Staining the icy skin with his blood. 

Under Amy’s careful guidance he forced the blood cells to reform, forced the vampiric blood in those veins to start jostling about once again. Fighting inside the body to manipulate it. To get that heart beating. He poured everything he had into it. 

Froggie holding his hands as he stumbled through his first steps, his first lost tooth, his first triumphs and his first defeats, his first crush, his first broken heart: all the milestones of his first thirteen years of life.

Dancing around the kitchen with socks as ballet shoes.

He never cared about his father’s unique lineage or the red eyes and fangs. He never cared about the baggies of blood in their fridge or anything that they couldn’t control.

His Froggie was always perfect in his eyes.

He always knew how much the family meant to his Froggie, but he also knew without a doubt, that above all else. They, he and his siblings, were the loves of Froggie’s life. 

Reading goodnight stories in funny voices to make them laugh, coming up behind them to sweep them up in his arms, tickling and kissing the daylights out of them. Spinning them around up on his shoulders.

Froggie would’ve done anything for them. He had even given his life for Bapuji. The purest kind of love was selfless love.

Love beyond all confines. 

Please. He doesn’t deserve this. Amy, please. 

He felt the small twitch and then how that deadened heart began to beat once again, slow at first and then in the frantic pounding staccato beat of a dhampir. 

Froggie’s skin grew flush with an uncomfortable heat, and his fanning dark hair began to lighten. Half-mast blue glassy eyes darkened to a crimson red, the milky haze fading away. 

Roger Taylor woke up screaming.  

Jackknifing up ramrod straight with full vampiric features displayed: wrinkled bat nose, elongated fangs and bloody eyes.  Alive, so fucking alive. 

Well, about as alive as the living dead could be. 

The flames on Robbie’s body were extinguished all at once, and he flung himself into his Froggie’s trembling arms, sobbing like he was three years old again instead of thirteen.

Clinging to that bloody skin and letting that too-fast heartbeat fill his ears with its heavenly sound. 

-X-

The fact that his dads’ bed was strong enough to hold all of them (Froggie, Dad, Brimi, Bapuji, Mum, Auntie Dom, Uncle Phoebe, Uncle Jim and Uncle Joe), was pretty spectacular, considering all of them were clinging to Froggie and each other, without the slightest thought of letting go. 

Dom tore his dads and uncles a new asshole each for not calling her once things went sour with the change (the one that apparently everybody knew about but him) and Froggie seemed to be reeling from the fact that he’d nearly ended up six-feet under. 

Robbie shook his head from where his face was still smushed into his Froggie’s furnace-warm chest. 

“No,” His voice was small, eyes still closed. “The living dead can’t die.”

His Bunic was sitting by the windowsill, a gentle smile on the young yet ancient face. 

But that smile faded when turned on his grandson, edged by a touch of knowing sadness. 

“Which one was it, guriță?” He asked softly, eyes shaded. “Which demon?”

Froggie was sitting up at once, looking at Vlad with bewilderment. 

“What demon, Dad? What are you talking about?”

Vlad gestured to Robbie, then turned fully to face the teenager. “Which demon did you sell your soul to, Robert?”

To say that all hell broke loose would be an understatement. 

He simply hung his head and spoke over the throng. 

“Avnas. And I didn’t sell it, I let him lay claim.” 

Vlad cocked an eyebrow, “A Prince of Hell? Well. I suppose you deserve credit for shooting high.”

“So I wasn’t hallucinating you being on fire?”

His Froggie sounded sick. Robbie just shook his head. Still not daring to raise his gaze from where it was examining the drops of blood on the bedclothes, ones that looked like rose petals spread across the plush duvet. 

“You’re thirteen years old! How in the hell did you sell your soul to a demon?! Why? What possessed you to do that?”  

His Dad looked livid and it was finally enough for Robbie to raise his head and glare with everything he had. 

“I was seven years old!” He wailed, fists clenched and tears welling up in his eyes. “It wasn’t exactly in my life plan, alright?” 

He whipped his head around to meet their stares head-on. “Yes! I’m a contract-witch, I let a demon lay claim on my soul to save my little brother’s life, to have the power to save all of yours, and I’d do it again if given half the chance!”

He was crying genuine human tears. 

“No need to worry about my damnation!” He let out a little hysterical laugh. One of his Froggie’s favorite words. “I’ve already gone and damned myself.”

His Brimi, his closet father at the moment, dragged him into a hug so crushing that he whimpered. The others followed suit.

He almost didn’t hear Amy’s sad voice, heavy and guilty in his head. He never knew a demon could feel remorse.

“Little witch, I am so sorry.”

-X-

Phoebe turned Joe into a lycanthrope once he started showing signs of having AIDS as well. 

They had been together for as long as Robbie could remember and he threw white petals at their little forest wedding in the backyard. 

Their family grew as he did, every years or so bringing more siblings with it. 

Josh came only a year or so after his first meeting with Amy. Luke and Cam were his Mum’s last foray into the baby-making front. And he was old enough to have fathered them himself by the time they came along. But he loved them all the same. 

Tiger Lilly and Rufus Tiger Taylor came after a family trip to Mexico. 

They were naguals, shape-shifters who could take the form of jaguars. Mesoamerican indian folklore called them protective spirits that guarded the rural villages from the dark sprits who lurked in the deepest parts of the jungle.

He called them his little pain-in-ass imps who were always underfoot, causing mischief with their half-transformed faces and bending Bapuji’s cat army to their will.

But beyond it all, they were his baby brother and sister, and he loved them thusly. 

Lola May Taylor was a Christmas baby, left on their doorstep like a little Christmas miracle.

Obviously her parents hadn’t realized that they’d chosen to leave their baby on the Addams’ family doorstep. (Or maybe they were more like the Munsters?)

She and Aunt Mary’s little boys completed their family. 

As years passed, he wondered how long it would be until Bapuji and Froggie would change Dad and Brimi. 

The answer for Dad was on a warm spring day in March, when he was in his late fifties. 

Curly hair shot with thick waves of gray that they teased made him look like The Bride of Frankenstein. He had been in the kitchen with Phoebe that morning, making a cup of coffee with Bapuji sitting up on the countertop stealing kisses, as the family all sat around the table and wherever else they could fit.

Hanging out during a weekend brekkie. 

When his father’s face had suddenly creased with a surprise pain, and the cup had fallen from his grip, shattering into a dozen pieces on the floor. They’d all watched it fall. 

Watched as their father collapsed to his knees, gripping his chest and curling inward from the pain of his heart-attack.

For an instant Robbie actually thought the older Deacon was bending down to clean up the mess. 

Froggie and Bapuji changed him on the kitchen floor, all of the kids huddled around like a horde of emperor penguins. Robbie ready to conjure, just in case. 

Dad woke up to his new life with everyone he loved watching with bated breath. Robbie would never get used to the way he looked like his vampire Dad’s twin. 

Brimi lasted the longest, he was in his early seventies when he came home from from a routine doctor’s visit with a set of test results in one hand and a clutch of freshly cut flowers in the other. They changed him in bed, all three of them together. Robbie sat against the door into the wee hours of the morning, listening, ready just in case. But he wasn’t needed. 

They were all okay. 

And it was only the beginning…

-X-

His Amy, his friend, his contractor, his demon, his lover, was a living, breathing demonic asshole. 

But Robbie had to give him credit, a living, breathing demonic asshole with morals. Nothing happened between them until Robbie Deacon was a grown man, a goddamn adult with a free-for-all choice of what he wanted to do to with his life. He didn’t owe anything to Amy or hell until the day he was steered away from the pearly gates. 

But they fell in love anyway. 

Even though demons were meant to never love humans. Even though he should hate the demon prince for claiming his soul like a greedy asshole who didn’t want him tearing Hell apart by the seams. 

They loved anyway. The truest rebels of all. 

“My little witch, my sunshine… I’ll burn the contact, take it all away, if you only ask.”

“No, this is my life. My choice.”

You’re my choice.

He didn’t say. He didn’t need to. 

It wasn’t ordinary. It wasn’t normal. But it was theirs.

They loved. 

-X-

“Mama, life had just begun

But now I’ve gone and thrown it all away…

Mama, ooh (any way the wind blows)

Didn’t mean to make you cry

If I’m not back again this time tomorrow

Carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters

…I’m just a poor boy, nobody loves me

He’s just a poor boy from a poor family

Spare him his life from this monstrosity

Easy come, easy go, will you let me go?

Bismillah! No, we will not let you go (let him go!)

Bismillah! We will not let you go (let him go!)

Will not let you go (let him go!)

Never, never let you go

Never let me go, oh

No, no, no, no, no, no, no

Oh, mama mia, mama mia (mama mia, let me go)

Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, for me…”

-Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody 

[bethgreeneishopeunseen]

Bethyl is a Tropefest A.K.A. It’s Canon

So I’ve had these notes in my draft for awhile. Bethyl was referred to as a damn romance novel long ago: the tagline promised that Bethyl would follow a classic romance novel to the letter, and we saw that unfold on our screens. Even Beth’s “death” fits into this structure, as it raises the stakes of the inevitable separation in the story. Her return, seemingly from the dead, would make the reunion that much more poignant. And so, over time I’ve noticed other stories use similar images and plot points to communicate romantic/sexual tension.

It’s been discussed ad nauseam, but I am going to first discuss the bare shoulder in 4x01 again. Beth and Daryl meet in her doorway, a liminal space, while dressed in complimentary, yin yang colors. The moment was meant to be poignant and foreshadowing the emotional closeness that they would develop in the back half of the season.

“When Daryl comes back to her room and says “he’s gone,” and she says “Daryl, I don’t cry anymore,” it was special. That scene, it’s one of my favorite scenes of the episode. Because shehugs Daryl. He looks uncomfortable, and he touches her elbow. When I cut that episode together, I wanted to make sure that he looked uncomfortable. When she looks up at him with her big eyes and her sweater falls off her shoulder and she pulls her sweater back up, it’s such a beautiful connection between the two of them. I love that in the middle of her momentary grief, she looks at Daryl and says, “are you okay?” It’s such a beautiful moment.” - Greg Nicotero (x).

Still, many viewers noticed a subtle sexual tension when Beth covers up her shoulder. She’d worn tank tops around Daryl in the past, but she also wasn't alone with him in such an intimate space and time (in her room at night). I noticed a similar covering-up in the Taylor Swift/Zayne music video for I Don’t Wanna Live Forever. Around the 3:47 mark, Taylor and Zayne’s characters are looking at each other, and she covers one of her shoulders. There is meant to be sexual connotations in that — the song was for the 50 Shades sequel and had Taylor dressed in some of her most overtly sexual clothing.

In addition, I watched the first season of Riverdale last summer. In the second half of the season, Betty and Jughead get together. When they talk about being together, in episode 1x07 or 1x08, the camera focuses on their handhold, with intertwined fingers. The romantic connotations are further reinforced when Madelaine Petsch (Cheryl Blossom) and Ashleigh Murray (Josie McCoy) discuss Cheryl’s very close relationship with her twin, Jason. In the pilot opening, Cheryl and Jason hold hands before he disappears, and Madelaine even says that the handhold is more romantic than fraternal. She then intertwines her fingers with Ashleigh’s to demonstrate. That essentially summarizes the difference between the Bethyl handhold in 4x13 and the C@ryl handhold in 5x06. Even Emily felt that the Bethyl handhold had romantic tones on the Stalking Dead (X).

Finally, the piano scene is a classic romantic scene. Music and other forms of art are a way to connect people on a deeper level and where vulnerabilities come out. The scene has appeared in two Harry Potter films with two canon couples, for example. In Deathly Hallows part 1, Ron watches Hermione as she plays the piano. In a deleted scene of Fantastic Beasts, Jacob and Newt watch the Goldstein sisters sing (x). (In the actual Fantastic Beasts book, Newt’s biography mentions him being married to a Porpentina, and if you look at Tina’s MACUSA badge, you can see that her full name is Porpentina. They’re canonically married with at least one child, grandson, and two great-grandsons via their granddaughter-in-law, Luna Lovegood.) 

One of the film’s producer, David Heyman, who worked on all of the Harry Potter films beforehand, even confirmed that the singing scene was romantic: “[And there is a cut scene] where Queenie and Tina sing the Ilvermorny song and Newt and Jacob just look at them adoringly and fall in love, in a way,” (x). Newtina is as canon as can be. Newt’s facial expression even mirrors that of Daryl’s as he watches Beth from the coffin — the definition of softness. 

Daryl Dixon fell in love with Beth Greene, and she with him. That’s why Daryl hasn’t moved on since 5x08, why his costumes are still dark like funeral clothes, why his character has fallen to the background. And that’s also why TPTB keep sneaking in Bethyl nods and promotions (x). Because the story isn’t over.

[bitacrytic]

OBLIVIOUS

@sterekreversebang

this fic based on this beautiful piece by @welshwoman1988

TAGS: Hogwarts (au), alive!Hales, Slytherin!Stiles, Gryffindor!Derek, angst, pining, friends, crushes, werewolves, jealousy, Scott ships Sterek, second-generation werewolves,

SUMMARY: Things were cool when Stiles was goofy and people ignored him. Things were fine when he wasn’t interested in Quidditch. But now, everyone wants a piece of Stiles and Derek doesn’t think things are cool anymore.

WORD COUNT: 5395

CHAPTER ONE

“Big night,” Cora noted, dumping her book bag onto the table and climbing into the bench space right next to Derek.

Derek didn’t reply. He was too busy staring down at the table next to them where a bunch of Fourth Year Slytherins sat with Stiles in the middle, explaining something to them. His eyes shone with excitement as he described something very animatedly, waving his arms around like his point would be better made that way. As interesting as it always was to watch Stiles –especially when he had no idea Derek was doing it - Stiles was not Derek’s current concern.

Sitting right by Stiles’ elbow was the huge, lumbering, Slytherin beater, Mark, who seemed to think his only duty in life was to follow Stiles around. He had his eyes trained on Stiles and no one else. From the drool forming on the side of Mark’s lips, Derek was pretty sure he wasn’t hearing a damn thing Stiles was saying.

If Derek had to hazard a guess, he doubted any of those students around Stiles were there to learn anything. They all just seemed to want to touch him, ogle him and pull him into secluded corners for nefarious reasons, recently.

It never used to be like that, Derek thought.

He’d met Stiles for the first time in his Fourth Year when Stiles had gotten lost in his First Year. Derek had led the mole-covered little Bambi back to the Gryffindor tower and after that, he’d seemed to think Derek was his personal guide. Every time he had a problem, he’d find Derek and complain about it till Derek took care of it. No boundaries, whatsoever. Derek could not count the number of times he had emerged from class to find Stiles waiting for him because he had a problem that he knew Derek would fix for him. No matter where Derek went, Stiles seemed to be able to track him down.

Which would have been okay, if the little devil hadn’t managed to track Derek into the Forbidden Forest on one of his monthly trips. Luckily for Derek, the Forest is enchanted to disallow human students from entering during the full moon. Derek had watched, unable to stop his shift from proceeding, as Stiles had stayed put behind the barrier, eyes wide in wonder as he watched Derek transform.

Unable to communicate just how much trouble Stiles could get into, Derek had bared his teeth at Stiles. He’d growled, howled and tried to scare the boy away, but Stiles had stayed put. So, Derek had stepped through the barrier and nudged Stiles back to the castle.

“Is this how you’re supposed to look?” Stiles had asked, rubbing at his black fur. “I thought-” Derek huffed at him. “I thought werewolves stood up straight like humans. Why do you look like an actual wolf?”

Derek huffed again.

Letting the little boy chat his ear off, he’d walked him back to the castle, glad that he was even listening. Once they got close enough, he’d given Stiles one last push and waited until he walked back up to the castle. If he had thought that was the last he would hear of it, Derek could not have been more wrong.

“Stop staring,” Cora said, snapping Derek back to the present. “If you’re not going to talk to him, stop being creepy.”

“I’m not staring,” Derek said, pulling his potions book closer to him. He wasn’t staring at Stiles, anyway.

“He’ll be there,” Cora said. “There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“I know.”

“He’ll never abandon you.”

“Who said anything about being abandoned?”

“Derek-”

“You said you needed my help with school.” He cut in, refusing to continue the conversation.

Cora looked like she had more to say, but she just opened her book and slid it closer to him without another word on the matter.

As Derek looked through her problems, he couldn’t help feeling antsy. The moon was out there. He could feel it even though it was still day. The next day would precede a night with a full moon and Derek would have to walk down to the Forbidden Forest again, worrying if this would be the time that Stiles would not follow.

_____

Stiles packed his books into his bag as the class exited around him. He was going to have to skip dinner and get some sleep because of the full moon.

“Hey,” Scott said, slinging his own bag over his shoulders. “So that’s what?” He asked. “Another three days?”

“You ask every month,” Stiles said.

“Yeah well, this is kinda the last month so…” Scott said, trailing off as Stiles tried not to think about it. “Have you talked to him?”

“I can’t talk to him when he’s human,” Stiles said, almost too angry.

“Stiles-” Scott began.

“He’s a jealous idiot,” Stiles interrupted. “I’m not going to be friends with someone who thinks he can control me.” Stiles hung his bag over his shoulder.

“You’re friends with him when he’s a wolf.”

“Because his wolf is not a jealous piece of shit,” Stiles said, even if he knew that was not the only reason why.

Before Stiles returned for his Fourth Year, Derek had been very important in his life. He’d vowed, ever since his First Year, never to let Derek spend another night alone in the Forbidden Forest. He’d kept that promise. He intended to keep it till Derek graduated, and seeing as Derek had just one more paper left in his NEWT’s, Stiles knew it wouldn’t be long before Derek was gone. He wouldn’t have to keep his promise anymore.

“I think you’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“You saw what he did the first week of the year. He wouldn’t even let me sit at my table. Took me a while to see what he was doing.”

“He wanted to spend time with you.”

“He didn’t want me to make any other friends besides him.”

“He never seemed to mind me.”

“Well, you’re different. You’re like my brother.”

“Exactly.” Scott said, confusing Stiles.

Just as he was about to ask, Mark appeared at his side, smiling from ear to ear as he leaned down into Stiles’ space.

“Let me walk you to your dungeon.” Mark offered.

Scott stopped moving with a disgusted look on his face before he tapped Stiles on the shoulder and left, going in the opposite direction.

“Thank you.” Stiles said to Mark as they started off in the direction of the dungeon.

“I don’t think Scott likes me very much.” Mark said, his eyes lighting with mirth.

Stiles laughed, wondering why that was.

_____

Derek sat on the tree stump just beyond the barrier, waiting. It was getting dark and soon, the moon would be over them. Soon, he wouldn’t be able to speak.

He wondered what he had been expecting; ever since he and Stiles got in a big fight over his alleged jealousy, Stiles had taken to arrive when Derek’s shift was already underway so that he wouldn’t have to engage in actual, human conversation with Derek.

When he felt a tick in his neck as a bone slipped from place, Derek got to his feet and began taking off his jumper. He folded it and slipped it into the waterproof bag that he had come with and then reached for his shirt. One by one, he disrobed, feeling the changes in his body continue to evolve until it was impossible to stand up straight. By the time he was completely naked and his bag was knotted and tossed away from prying eyes, Derek’s shift was complete.

He had never enjoyed having to spend his first three and a half years of Hogwarts being a wolf alone in the forest for three days, but he had begun to worry when Stiles promised him two days after that fateful full moon that Derek would not be alone for much longer. Derek had brushed him off as a silly little boy for a couple of months until he saw Stiles' book spit out a Third Year DADA textbook, followed by a book about magical creatures.

"What's this for?" Derek had asked.

"You'll see." Stiles had said with a smile.

Fearing for Stiles' safety and the possibility that he had gone out and gotten himself bitten, Derek had reported him to the Headmaster, Professor Thomas. It was already too late; by the time Stiles was called before the Headmaster, he was already finished with his research and plans. He was also beaming with pride.

Derek caught a whiff of Stiles approaching the Forbidden Forest, gracefully skipping from side to side as if trying to avoid an invisible stream in the middle. By the time he got to the barrier, he was already pulling off his shirt.

“Sorry, I’m late.” He said like neither of them knew that his tardiness was deliberate.

Derek turned away, trying to offer Stiles some semblance of privacy in the very open forest that they were standing in.

A few ruffling sounds later, Derek heard the faint thud of hooves on the ground. He turned around to find that Stiles was gone, but in his place now stood a slender, big-eyed deer with beautiful brown, dotted fur.

Derek always loved this part. He loved watching Stiles when he was human too, but Derek never got over seeing him transform. Especially when his wolf felt very melty about it, recently.

Before... before the year had started, Derek's wolf used to like the companionable beat between them. Stiles was not a quiet Animagus, whether he was human or deer. Even though Stiles couldn't speak three days a month, Derek could have sworn that every time Stiles found something new and pulled at his ears till Derek went to investigate, he could practically hear, "Look, Derek. Look. Isn't this amazing?"

But then, all of a sudden, Stiles had returned from summer break of his own Third Year... and he wasn't such a kid anymore. He seemed to have shot up more than a few inches and gotten some form of brace for his posture because, suddenly, Stiles was walking straighter, speaking calmer and interested in Quidditch.

Not to mention the fact that his deer form smelled delicious and Derek's wolf loved it.  He loved walking behind Stiles against the wind. He loved sleeping on top of Stiles, his nose buried underneath Stiles' tail. He liked to wake up, running his tongue all over Stiles, licking every bit of him until Stiles woke and disentangled from his limbs. He loved to bring Stiles fruits and stay close rather than wait for Stiles to find him.

Derek loved this grown-up version of Stiles more than his human brain could imagine.

But he had to live with the fact that this version was so, very angry with him.

_____

Stiles spent the next two days by Derek's side. If Derek wanted to run, he'd follow along. If Derek wanted to sleep, he'd lie by him. If Derek wanted to hunt and kill tiny animals, Stiles would stay a safe distance away, but he'd still be around. That was what he was there for. Company.

On the third night, he had gone to sleep in the cave Derek had procured for them many years ago. He knew he would wake up to a morning licking or a cave full of fruits and if he was being honest, he would be fairly happy about either, but Derek didn't need to know that. He didn't need any more power over Stiles.  If the next day was going to be the last, there was no need to change their dynamic anymore.

When he woke up, he felt the familiar weight on his body, pressing him down into the earth, but what was missing was the usual feeling of comfort that accompanied it. Instead of licks, Stiles felt heavy, strong teeth catch at his skin and pull at it. His skin didn’t break, and it didn't exactly hurt, but Stiles nearly jumped out of his skin, scared shitless that Derek was playing a mean joke on him.

Because it had to be a joke.

When he moved to get up, his heart thumping in his chest, Derek pressed him further into the ground and Stiles whimpered, shaking his head and attempting to convey that this wasn't very funny. Then more teeth appeared at the back of his neck, grazing across as Stiles shrank away, wriggling about to turn just in time to see the scariest thing he ever had.

Lying on top of him with an expression Stiles had never seen, was Derek. He looked bigger than normal for some reason and Stiles hated that he was exerting so much power over him physically that he thrashed and fought, trying to throw Derek off.  

Derek growled at him as his eyes changed, glowing red at Stiles and Stiles froze. What was that? He had never seen that before. What the hell?

If he'd been scared before, Stiles was frantic with apprehension now. He squealed into the cave, pushing and pushing as Derek tried to bite him again, determined that he wouldn't make it so easy.

You won't eat me, Stiles prayed.

You can't eat me.

You're not a werewolf. You can control yourself.

Please, Derek. PLEASE!

By some miracle, Stiles managed to wriggle free and tumble away, but his mind cleared immediately the moment Derek lunged at him, his teeth bared.

That was all the incentive he needed. Stiles was not sticking around to investigate. He fled from the cave, making his way to the tree line where the barrier was. He knew the barrier would not keep Derek inside the forest so the moment he jumped free of the barrier, he transformed back to himself, picked up his wand and yelled, "Petrificus Totalus" at the approaching wolf, causing Derek to freeze, mid-stride and fall to the ground, out of balance.

Lying there on the ground, Stiles stared into Derek's red eyes, feeling his fear simmer down as hurt took its place.

"I know you can hear me," Stiles said. "I know you can understand me." He stared into Derek's red eyes. "I never want to see you again. Whatever's been going on with you this entire year... whatever has possessed you to this point...  I'm glad you’re leaving and I don't have to deal with it anymore."

Stiles stood to his feet, got dressed and left Derek there, all on his own.

CHAPTER TWO

Hermione Granger was visiting Hogwarts for a week to give lectures on different magical creatures and anyone was welcome. Stiles had, of course, read every single one of her books and attended a multitude of other lectures that she had given but in his six years at Hogwarts, this was the first time she was coming.

Knowing that this was his chance, he had taken to cornering her after every lecture to listen to the grey-haired genius as she spoke, almost as if she had not just spent a couple of hours teaching already. He liked to hear her lecture and she always had something new to say, always had new information to give. Sties loved that about her.

This was her last class. The last day.

She had reserved Werewolves for the last day.

Stiles had stared at the timetable, watching the tiny picture of a werewolf that kept hunching its back and growling up at him. Did he want to go to this particular lecture? Anything that had to do with werewolves always rubbed him wrong; he avoided it and did his best to forget all he knew about them, which was a lot because he had done his research.

He wrestled with himself that morning, wondering if he actually needed to be at the seminar. It was about werewolves, he wasn’t going to hear anything he hadn’t heard before.

Yet, an hour later, he was seated in the front row, listening to Hermione speak about The Werewolf Spectrum.

“Thanks to the war and the role played by Remus Lupin, werewolves have become less of a taboo, opening themselves up to community and research. We now have firsthand, willing knowledge of the werewolf being from the past forty years… more than we have ever had in wizarding history.” She said, strolling around. “We now know the blanket term “werewolf” is not enough. Children born from two parent werewolves can be anything from human to purewolf. Who can tell me some of the major differences between a werewolf and a purewolf?”

The excited, little, Hermione replica sitting beside Stiles shot her hand into the air with eagerness. Shifting her glasses up her nose with an indulgent smile, Hermione pointed at her.

“A purewolf is a human who turns completely into a wolf. Unlike the werewolf who retains the ability to stand upright like a human and walk, a purewolf remains on all fours. While the full moon will cause both a werewolf and a purewolf to transform, a werewolf loses its mind to the moon while the purewolf retains full and complete control of his actions.”

“Excellent, Stacy,” Hermione said, handing the girl a wrap of candy, which she took and ploped back into her seat with triumph. “A purewolf does not require containment. A purewolf can be held accountable. A purewolf is, in essence, still his or herself.”

“Although,” she continued, moving around the seats. “There have been accounts of people recording unusual behavior among purewolves. Sightings of wolves with red eyes and erratic behavior.”

Stiles’ mind flashed back to the last time he saw Derek. Red eyes.

“It’s nothing for you kids to worry about. But if you ever do witness a purewolf with red eyes, try not to run.” She said. “It’ll spook them. Even if they didn’t want to hurt you before, they would perceive your retreat as rejection and may become violent. I know purewolves are in control of their faculties, but most of the time, they tend not to respond to that with kindness.”

…perceive your retreat as rejection…

Stiles was so confused.

“What do the red eyes mean, Ma’am?”

Hermione frowned.

“Some people foolish enough to romanticize anything will tell you the red eyes mean love. They would tell you that when a purewolves eyes flash in your presence and they turn red, that the wolf has fallen in love.”

Stiles couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t hear this.

I’m glad you’re leaving…

Stiles vision blurred as his voice played back in his head.

“What would you call it?” Someone in the class asked Hermione.

“I’d say it was something much more serious than that, something more enduring. Purewolves are the rarest form on a spectrum. Werewolves who marry werewolves tend to have mostly human children, and even the children who show werewolf traits have only faint characteristics. Sometimes they crave red meat, sometimes they grow hair during a full moon. Some of them even go completely crazy and have to be restrained or contained like their werewolf parents during a full moon. A purewolf has to walk alone. It’s a solitary life for most of them and more often than not, they tend to stay that way. I’ve met exactly four purewolves in my line of work and all of them are grown men and women living alone. They get to a certain point in their lives that being around other people for too long grates on their nerves and makes it hard for them to physically be near anyone.”

Hermione faces the class with seriousness.

“So when someone calls the red eyes a sign of ‘love’, I find that it trivializes what it means. When a purewolf encounters someone that their entire being, both the wolf and the human, have accepted to the point that they feel that this person is necessary to their sanity, I think it’s more than love. It’s more than a desire to want someone.”

“Then what is it?” Little Stacy asked.

“It’s a promise of permanence.”

______

Stiles vomited into the toilet, retching till his head began to hurt. When nothing would come out anymore, Stiles slumped down on the floor with his back against the wall.

All the signs were there. He should have seen it. He should have known. But in all his research, the red eyes never came up, they were never even discussed. How the hell was he supposed to know that Derek was falling in love… or promising him permanence?

I'm glad you’re leaving and I don't have to deal with it anymore.

Stiles groaned and buried his head between his knees.

He’d been too angry to understand anything at all. Too angry at Derek for thinking that he could control Stiles’ life. Too angry at Derek for his childish jealousy and his newly acquired possesivness.

At first, he’d thought it was cute that Derek always wanted to sit with him. Prior to his fourth year, Stiles was always the one initiating contact, starting conversations, trying to earn the little smiles that Derek offered because everybody knew that Derek didn’t laugh. Everybody knew that Derek barely tolerated Stiles.

Getting to be the one being sought after was such a nice change that Stiles didn’t realize Derek was trying to control him. Not until he had tried out for Quidditch with Scott and he’d made it. The team captain had accepted him. But then he had caught Stiles in a hallway outside of class and told him he couldn’t be on the team because he was “too academic” to be an athlete.

Stiles could not understand it. Never -NEVER- in the history of wizarding, had anyone been kept from sports because they were too brilliant.

He’d been complaining to Derek about it; he liked the way Derek looked at him when he talked too much. He liked how seriously Derek took him. He loved it when he looked over and caught Derek just staring. It made Stiles go gooey inside.

“Why do I even care about this?” He had asked, feeling angry because he did care. He wanted to play Quidditch. He had practiced all summer with Scott and now Scott had gotten in without him.

“You’re too academic, anyway.” Derek had said

And Stiles had frozen on the spot, unable to move.

“What?” Derek had asked.

“That’s an odd way of calling someone smart.” Stiles noted tensely.

“So what?” Derek  asked with a shrug.

“That’s what Jackson said.” Stiles said. “He said I was too academic.”

Derek frowned at him and dropped his fork, rubbing his hands together in discomfort.

“Did you-” Stiles didn’t even know where to start. “Did you tell Jackson to get rid of me?”

“No,” Derek said. “NO!”

But Stiles could smell his lies as easily as a purewolf could. He’d known Derek long enough to discern it.

“You told him to get rid of me?”

“That’s not what happened.”

“You’re lying about it.” Stiles said, getting up as Derek grabbed his hand.

“Listen to me.” Derek growled.

Stiles snatched his hand away, more annoyed than ever.

“Really, Derek?” Stiles asked. Because Derek should have known better than to try and make Stiles heed him by growling. The moment Derek realized, he blinked and his entire posture changed to one of supplication.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Stiles.”

“You’re going to go to Jackson. Right now.” Stiles said. “And you’re going to tell him to put me back on the team.”

“Stiles, I can’t do that-”

“You know what? I’m not about to owe you anything.”

Stiles had stalked right back to the Slytherin dungeon and offered his services as essay writer to Jackson until Jackson graduated if he would let Stiles back on the team. Jackson recognized that it might not be the best idea to antagonize Derek Hale, but seeing as he was getting an awesome Beater back into the game and getting his essays done, it was too good a deal for Jackson to pass up.

Stiles had stayed away from Derek after that. At least he’d stayed away as a human. He had made a promise to Derek’s wolf that he would stay, that he would be there. So he showed up every month. He did what he could.

But none of that had prepared him for what the red eyes could mean.

_____

Derek raised his wand towards the grove of trees before him, securing the wards around it that were meant to keep his mother, his father and Laura contained for the next few days.

Cora was supposed to do it so that he could get some sleep, but she had just returned from school that morning, sick with the flu that she claimed to have gotten since before she left the Hogwarts premises. Now, Derek was stuck being a good brother.

“He’s not a werewolf,” Laura complained, itching at the base of her scalp in irritation as she walked down the hill from the house to where Derek was.

“I’m not judging,” Talia said. “I’m a werewolf.”

“He’s  not.” Laura snapped, walking right past the barrier and Derek, Talia watching as her daughter left.

“She doesn’t mean to be rude, Mom.” Derek offered, seeing the look on Talia’s face.

“I know.” She said, rubbing her hand through his hair. “The full moon.”

They both looked at the sky. The sun was long gone but the moon had yet to make an appearance. Talia gave him a hug and a kiss before she followed Laura through.

“Look after your sister,” Talia said.

“Got it, Mom.”

He turned from the barrier and started toward the house. Cora was strong and he knew that whatever she was down with, it wouldn’t take long before she began to feel better.

Derek filled himself a glass of milk and roamed around the house, straining his neck from side to side. He had about half an hour before he would transform and he liked to drag it out doing mundane things like strolling about, flipping through channels and disturbing Cora. But Cora was sick, so he couldn’t exactly-

Derek sniffed the air, feeling a sinking in his stomach.

Stiles.

He rushed to the door but wasn’t deterred when he found that there was no one there. He could scent Stiles from a distance. Stiles wouldn’t be able to sneak up on him like that. Not when everything in Derek’s being was attuned to seeking him out like a beacon.

Two years.

Derek couldn’t believe it as he bound down the steps in front of the house towards the driveway. The preserve was a pretty large place but the road leading right up to the Hale House was a straight one from the street. So if anyone had driven onto it, Derek would be able to see the car coming right up.

There was no one there. Nothing there. No car. Nobody. No Stiles.

Refusing to get frustrated, Derek stood there. Maybe he had rushed over too fast. There was no way he had mistaken something else for Stiles’ scent. There was nothing like it. Derek could remember it as if he’d seen Stiles just the day before. Unless…

Unless he was imagining things.

It wouldn’t be the first time. Stiles had never visited Derek at home and in the two years since Derek left Hogwarts, Stiles had never called or sent an owl. Sometimes, he would imagine that Sties had come to visit. That the scene that was currently driving him crazy was real. That Stiles cared enough to show up.

Sighing, Derek turned away from the road… just as something caught the corner of his eye. He turned back in time to see a rickety, old jeep, scuttling up the road towards the house.

_____

Stiles tried to send an owl from school but every letter he wrote, every sentence felt empty. Everything felt so wrong that before he knew it, it was time to return home. Deciding to just wait until he saw Derek’s face, Stiles then had to spend the trip home rehearsing and rehashing and rethinking everything he wanted to say to Derek.

As he drove up the road, he could make out Derek’s distinctive features the closer he got, regretting that his flight had caused him to make this drive up so late and so close to the moon’s rising.

Sties got out of the car, unable to take his eyes off of Derek, who seemed unwilling to look away as well.

“Stiles.” He said, causing Stiles feet to rush in his direction before Stiles stopped abruptly and nearly fell over.

He grabbed the front of the jeep to keep steady.

“I uh…” Stiles licked his lips nervously. “I think I owe you an apology.”

Derek frowned at him.

“For what?” He asked approaching stiles. “I owe you an apology. I should never have said anything too Jackson.”

“I know about the red eyes,” Stiles said, stopping Derek in his tracks. “I know about your red eyes.”

If it was possible, Derek’s frown deepened at that.

“You don’t owe me anything, Stiles. My red eyes were not your problem.  You don’t have to-”

Unable to stop himself, Stiles rushed closer.

“But I want to.”

Derek blinked at him and when his eyes opened, they were no longer green. They were yellow and puzzled. He shook his head as if to clear it but the hair on his face increased began to grow closer to the center. Derek groaned and blinked, struggling until his green, human eyes returned. He was fighting the transformation.

Stiles looked up at the waxing moon. Then he moved closer and took Derek by the shoulder.

“I swear, I didn’t plan it like this. I wanted to talk to you before we spent the next few days as animals.”

“We?” Derek asked, as his eyes slipped back into yellow again.

“I didn’t drive all the way here to not spend the full moon with you.”

Derek shook his head.

“You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to return my feelings just because someone explained how I felt to you.”

“You’re such a fool, Derek Hale.”

Derek’s claws dug into Stiles’ arm as Derek held onto him with a befuddled expression on his wolfening face.

“Do you think I spent all that time with you and felt nothing for you?”

“Stiles-”

Stiles grabbed him by the neck and kissed him to shut him up. Derek moaned at him, biting into his mouth and Sties felt a pinch of Derek’s teeth break his skin. Derek quickly let go and tried to pull away but Stiles wouldn’t let him.

“Sorry about that,” Derek said breathlessly.

“It’s okay. I’m fine.” Stiles said, keeping one at the back of Derek’s neck while the other one wiped away the blood from his mouth.

“See?” He said, using the moonlight too show Derek that the blood was gone.

“I’ve wanted to do that since-” Derek groaned again as his neck cracked forward.

“Stop. Derek.” Stiles said, going to his knees as Derek buckled under the pressure of the moon. “Stop fighting it. It’ll just hurt you the more you fight.”

Derek’s clothes were slowly falling off as his body morphed into a wolf. Stiles leaned forward to kiss him on his wolf nose.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Stiles pulled off his shirt and unbuckled his pants, kicking away his shoes as he held Derek’s eyes. “I’m here, okay. Stop fighting.”

By the time Stiles was done undressing, Derek was fully turned, a black wolf sitting and watching him under the illumination of the full moon.

“We’ve both been stupid. And we both haven’t used our words enough. Which has led to silly problems, but that’s done now.” Stiles said. “We’ll talk in a few days.”

He went down to the ground and began his transformation. He was barely done before he felt Derek on him, landing with all his weight as he forced them both to tumble around on the ground. Stiles wiggled around, trying to get free and the moment he was, he took off, bubbling with joy as Derek pursued, biting at his heels.

He had missed this. Stiles had missed Derek so much. And for the two years he had let Derek go at it alone, Stiles was going to make up for it with forever.

[drarrylovebot-blog]

Like Hell

This one is my first writing of 2018, and I know it might turn out to be so bad since I haven’t written anything for months. But this one comes from @staganddragon ‘s song “Like Hell” I know it might not do any justice to the song because ffs that song is just out of this world, hope she finds this readable because I adore everything about her.

The Eight Year is supposed to be different, isn’t it? It is different, probably, in some ways. Not in the way that Draco wants though, not at all in the way that matters. In the end it feels all the same as the last two years. His heavy sigh echoes inside the dark empty room. The coldness that creeps in between the cracks of the hard stone wall still covers the room in a suffocating ways. The night still feels as lonely. The silence feels heavier than ever. No one comes back for their NEWT, not when McGonagall said they could learn everything at home and just come to Hogwarts for the test, especially not when they’re the front line of Slytherin House. Pansy and Daphne comes back. Blaise also comes back. No one will see him in the same room as Draco to sleep though, not ever since Vincent. So Draco sleeps alone every night, wrapped in what he hopes to be a comforting blanket that provides warmth, and yet turns to be a suffocating sweat drenched duvet every dawn. He sighs once again before closing his eyes uneasily. It’s only two months after the semester starts anyway, right? There will be many times to make differences happened later on.

The Great Hall feels emptier than ever when Draco slides quietly into his seat in the end of the Slytherin table. He is the closest to the door, a simple precaution that he hates to make. School is supposed to be a safe place for students, right? He sighs softly when his former friends slide into their seats in the middle of the long table without even a glance to him. It’s okay. He’s okay. He knows it was just another precaution, maybe except for Blaise, even though he knows too well that he deserved that. The vile ink in his left arm says how much he deserves the cold treatment. He prefers silence when that means his friends are safe from death glares and occasional cutting hexes.

The sudden shadows that covered his half buttered toast makes him squirms a little in his seat. Draco doesn’t need to see who has decided to sit across him. Harry Potter has been sitting there ever since the first morning of the term. At first, he was confused, but he never chooses to ask. Potter parts with his trio at the big door and always sits right across Draco. This is probably the only thing that changes in his school life: a routine silent breakfast with the Chosen One. Draco wants to ask so many things to the boy, things that might go out of control if he starts voicing them.

What are you doing here?

How are you?

How are you handling things?

Do you want jellybeans with your peanut sandwich?

Why do you do this?

Are you alright?

I’m sorry.

“Morning, Potter.” Draco finally blurts out of nowhere because for fuck’s sake it has been two months of them sitting in silent every breakfast together. Apparently it shocks Potter more than it should as the butter covered knife in his right hand falls noisily on his plate. Draco can feel blood pooling on his cheeks and drops his eyes back to his toast, nibbling it nervously. He should not have said anything, shouldn’t he? He goes through another two minutes of painfully awkward silence before arranging his expression, brazing himself to look at the boy in front of him. “What?” he asks, a little defensively. The green eyes blink slowly while gauging Draco’s expression.

“Nothing.” Potter finally says slowly, cautiously. Draco finally goes back to his toast after a full minute of simply staring at the strange boy. “It just has been two months too late, hasn’t it?” he hears Potter mutters with a smile in his voice. Draco doesn’t understand how you put smiles into your voice, but he once again finds himself staring at Potter’s face –judging, of course, whether or not he’s laughing at Draco. It is probably ten seconds too long to judge someone, but he finally shrugs his shoulder nonchalantly.

“Better late than never.” He says softly, and once again is rewarded with a small smile and twinkling, tired eyes. But it’s genuine, Draco understands because this one is different. It’s different with the wide grin he offers Weasley everyday at dinner. It’s different with the small smile he always gives his friends every time he stands up first and exits the Great Hall at night. It’s different with the reassuring smile he gives Granger every time he says he’s okay. This one is finally genuine because the tired haze in his eyes clear for a second and the twinkles Draco hasn’t seen in a long time is presenting itself. And that’s why Draco greedily takes another twenty seconds of silent staring to store the expression into his memories.

“Better late than never.” Harry repeats the sentence softly before finally shoves his toast into his mouth to hide his growing smile.

It has been another two months until Draco finally can’t take being in his bed alone, so he goes down stair to the warmer common room with a blanket draped around his figure. The fire is emitting comforting warmth throughout the room, and he claims the spot right in front of the fireplace as a place to lie down. He is done with all the cold dark room and nightmares, curling up into a ball in front of the warm fire, wrapped in his thick duvet, and getting so comfortable and sleepy. It has been months since he has a good night sleep, so this one feels luxurious even though he’s on the floor. Well, that is until he senses someone taking a sit behind him. Draco doesn’t move, doesn’t even turn around to welcome the new figure. He’s tired, he’s warm, and he wants to sleep.

“Can’t sleep, either?” The new voice says. The sharp intake of breathe definitely doesn’t come from him. “I have never seen you down here.” Harry says softly.

“Had enough with the nightmares and the cold room.” Draco snuggles back into his warm duvet. “Apparently I’m an idiot for not going down here faster.” Potter doesn’t say anything else for quite some times. The silence gets heavier as seconds goes by and after ten seconds Draco’s chance to sleep is just basically gone. He is too attuned to this boy, has been for so long, and he hasn’t seen the end of this turbulent feelings. He fancies Harry Potter. That’s a fact he can’t evade forever. Sure, he hates him on many occasions, but that time has flown by, hasn’t it? Now what left are just small morning greetings, pleasant small chats about homework, and private smiles across The Great Hall, swapped cup of coffees and teas, and extra portion of sweet pumpkin pies. And how could Draco ever eradicate his ever growing feelings when he is too busy drowning in mesmerizing green eyes every breakfast time?

“Can I tell you things?” Draco finally blurts out, can’t take the heavy silent anymore. It’s two seconds too late when finally a small okay echoes around the room. Draco finally turns his body around to face Potter and looks at him in the eyes. The green eyes looks more orange as the light of the fire mirrors on them. The black nestle he called hair is messier than ever. “I’m sorry.” Draco shifts his eyes towards his fingers in the rug, swallowing a nerve and sitting up, before looking back at the person in front of him. “It might have been a lifetime too late, but I’m sorry. For the little things and the big ones. For every jabs and stinging hex. For every hurting words and physical pain I’ve caused you. I am sorry. For a simple Unforgivable and the grandeur tattoo. I know it might be a long shot to ask for a simple forgiveness, not that I deserve one, but I need you to know that I am sorry.”

Harry is at loss for words. He tries to answer, but nothing comes out from his mouth, so he shuts it again and frowns, trying to come up with something, anything. And yet, Draco smiles sadly for a few seconds before nodding and continuing.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to answer. Can I tell you another thing?” Harry simply nods at his request. This time Draco smiles genuinely. It’s small, private, just like what they are used to sharing at the breakfast table every morning. “I think Harry is just as great as Harry Potter.” Draco pauses as he remembers the small kid he met at Diagon Alley eight year ago, and then he nods as if what he just says is the basic fact of the world that everyone should know. “Yeah, definitely.” He grins. Draco actually grins so wide because right at that second he sees the lost and confused kid with the big beautiful green eyes once again staring at him. He smiles so large to cover the tears prickling on the corner of his eyes, until in the end they just fall anyway. He sniffs once before wiping the tears away, followed by a wet, embarrassed chuckle. “I’m sorry for making that Harry’s life a living hell. I just wanted to be friends with him, but he refused and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how else to catch his eyes.”

“Draco…” Harry’s voice sounds lost and confused in the warm room, slightly covered by another sharp intake of breath from the blond boy, as this is the first time that word is uttered from Harry’s lips.

“No, there are other things I want you to know.” Draco shakes his head to clear his slightly wet vision. “I need you to know that you had killed one person. That is the only guilt that you need to support on your shoulder. I say this because I know you have a damn hero complex, and you’ll feel guilty even though you only murdered a mad man who actually needed to be eradicated. The rest of them are not your fault. Don’t take away their sacrifice by acknowledging it as your fault.” Draco stops his words because Potter is staring at him in a weird way. Draco knows this might sound harsh, but he need to say this. He thinks Potter needs to hear this. “Harry, you killed Voldemort. Embrace that part of you. You’ll only live in this limbo of lies and suffer if you don’t.”

The silent that follows is deafening, but Draco can’t feel any regret. Draco needs to say this. Harry needs to hear this. The only sound comes from the fire licking away the woods in the hearth and the ticking of clock on the farthest wall until Harry suddenly stutters a question.

“W-why? Why are you saying… all of this?” Harry says confusedly. His green eyes are burning a hole in the rug as he hasn’t stopped staring at it for quite some times.

Your green eyes don’t match the haze of your burden and white lies. You’re too beautiful to be plunged into this misery and sugarcoated suffering. I love you. But I’m not enough, not yet. Draco smiles sadly as these thoughts slip into his mind, and yet that is the only truth he knows. Draco wrapped his body tighter with his duvet, as if it’s the only thing that can protect him from whatever after effect his actions will induce.

“Loving you is a living hell, but I want to do it well and I don’t know how. Maybe this is the other way to catch your eyes.” Draco says very softly, he can hear the distant sound of Hogwarts’ clock, chiming twelve times as the end of the day is nearing. He leans closer to Harry, stopping right before he can’t. “Abandon what you know, Harry. Do what you want. Be who you want.” He whispers as the green eyes only gets wider under the soft gaze of the grey orbs. Draco finally closes his eyes and leans so close until his lips plant a small feather light kiss on Harry’s cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Harry Potter.” Before Harry can acts or even move Draco has already gone up the stair to his room, leaving Harry blushing so hard he’ll be redder than the fire at the start of Christmas. Maybe this year is different. Maybe this is the start of a change of heart. Maybe this is just something unimportant entirely later in his life, but he can feel right then and there, somehow in this very fast hour of his night, it doesn’t feel like hell.

[imagines-tmr]

imagine #15

character - Gally

words - 2062

warnings - n/a

description - You cherish the promise ring Gally made for you back in the Glade.

a/n – requested anonymously ; I changed the request slightly as I tend to go by book events, but I hope you still like it!

“What’s up, shank?”

You brushed off Gally’s attempt to start a conversation and slumped down beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. The two of you sat quietly like that for a while; you couldn’t find it in you to say anything and he didn’t push. Eventually, you took his hand in yours and kissed it.

“I’m so tired,” you said. “All the time. I feel like sleeping for a year.”

Gally scoffed. “Getting lazy, (Y/N)? Nick and Alby will shuck you up if they hear you spouting crap like that.” The thought of dealing with those two made your skin crawl. While you had no problem with Nick as a leader – he was generous and fair and way nicer to you than most – you still didn’t want to get on his bad side and have him think you weren’t doing your share in the Glade. And Alby didn’t tolerate nearly as much of your crap as Nick did, so to piss him off was even worse.

“It’s not like I’m not working,” you defended. There was a small pause. “It just feels so exhausting to do the same thing over and over again. The only memories I have are about the Glade. I don’t know anything about who I was before or what kind of stuff I was into, and it sucks.”

“Yeah, that’s how we all feel.”

“Dumbass, you don’t get it.” Sometimes, Gally irked you so much that it made you question why you were with him the first place. He had a one-track mind, which wasn’t that much of a surprise considering he was a Builder. Newt had warned you Builders weren’t exactly thinkers. “I hate it here. I’d give anything to get out. I’m sick and tired of waking up to these four giant walls every single day.”

Gally shook his head. “Nice to know you find being here with me so horrible.” He got up and walked back to the other Builders, his break clearly over. You hated it; he always did that whenever things got tough between you two. Walked away like it was unimportant. Like the problem would go away if he ignored it.

You absentmindedly played with the ring on your finger – and stopped when you realized what you’d been doing. Gally had made that ring for you – wooden with a thin band of white in the middle. You could even remember his words when he’d given it to you.

“When we get out someday,” he’d said, “I’ll put a real ring on your finger, diamonds and all.”

It sounded too good to be true, and it only made you feel worse about your situation. You loved Gally with all your heart, but the Glade didn’t have much of a life to offer the two of you. You wanted him to keep his promise more than anything, but with the way things were, that seemed damn near impossible.

“Thomas. Find… my mom. Tell her—”

But Chuck couldn’t finish. His eyes slid shut, every last wisp of life gone. He was dead – and Gally had killed him.

Gally, the boy you fell in love with in the Glade; the boy who took you under his wing when you showed up in the Box; the boy who wept at the thought of losing you when you and Thomas ran out into the Maze to save Alby and Minho; the boy who promised to put a real ring on your finger and start a life with you someday; the boy who was capable of cold-blooded murder.

Thomas snapped. Like a rabid dog, he jumped on Gally and knocked him to the ground. With every punch, your chest tightened until you could no longer breathe. You were beside them in an instant, screaming and begging, trying to pry Thomas off Gally, but it was like every ounce of strength in your body died with Chuck.

Killed by Gally.

It took both Minho and Newt to take Thomas away; they dragged him to the side where he flailed and kicked at the air desperately. You kneeled beside Gally and swallowed down the bile that had risen in your throat. His face was barely recognizable through all the blood, and his nose was beyond broken. His eyes – murky green – were so swollen that he could barely keep them open. You searched them for any sign of the affection they once held for you, and found nothing.

WICKED had broken Gally and Gally had broken you.

When the rescuers came, you let them take you. Not once did you look back on Gally. That part of you would stay behind.

“I’ve told you enough,” Gally said. “You want more, you come back. I’ll be here.”

His eyes stayed on yours a little longer than they should have, and then he and Thomas shook hands. It felt strange to see them working together instead of hating each other, but then again, everything felt strange to you in that small Denver apartment.

Finding out Gally was alive and willing to help was a big enough shock as it was. And when Brenda and Jorge told you about how he went crazy after what he’d done to Chuck, it was like someone had taken a hot knife and plunged it into your chest.

You’d left him. You’d left him when it mattered most, and he would never forgive you for it. You could only imagine how betrayed he must have felt after waking up in the infirmary and realizing that the person who was supposed to love him and stick by him had abandoned him like a stray dog.

And here you were, in the same room, only a few feet apart. It was a miracle you hadn’t started crying.

Everyone was getting ready to leave, promising that they’ll be back to discuss their situation more, when Gally finally spoke to you.

“Can I have a few minutes with you?” he said. “Alone?”

Brenda gave you a wary look and then pushed the others out of the apartment. “We’ll be downstairs,” she said. You knew Minho would say something smart about it as soon as they were outside. The door closed behind them as you and Gally were left alone.

The tension around the two of you was so thick that it was beginning to suffocate you. His eyes never left yours; they were darker than you remembered them to be, more worn out, like they’d seen things no one should ever see. In a way, it was probably true. No one could argue that Gally hadn’t suffered more than most.

He was first to break the silence.

“How’ve you been?” Gally asked. You couldn’t stop a laugh from escaping your mouth at how ridiculous his question was. Gally’s eyebrows knitted in confusion, almost offended by your reaction. “What?”

“Gally, after everything, do you really need to ask?”

He sighed, shoulders relaxing. “No, I guess not.” He hesitantly moved closer, as if afraid of what would happen if he came too near. “I really am sorry.”

“You’re not the one who should be apologizing,” you said. “I’m the one who should be groveling at your feet.”

“Don’t ever do that.”

“You know what I mean.”

Gally nodded. “Yeah, I do.” He shook his head and gave you a smile, though it didn’t seem to suit him anymore. “If you’re worried about me hating you, don’t be. You know I couldn’t even if I tried.”

You gritted your teeth, feeling your eyes sting painfully. You tried to swallow the knot in your throat but couldn’t.

“I don’t care if you hate me,” you told him. “I’ve stopped caring a long time ago.”

His gaze flickered from your face to your hand. “Then why are you still wearing that?”

Your ring. The one he’d made for you in the Glade. The one he’d promised to replace when the two of you got out. You’d forgotten about it over the past few weeks, and who could blame you with everything that had gone down in the Scorch? But you were suddenly very aware of how snug it felt on your finger and how it had always been there for you when Gally couldn’t be.

“I still love you, (Y/N).”

“Yeah? The feeling’s not mutual, Gally.”

You slammed the door behind you.

Paradise wasn’t really what you’d expected.

It took a while for things to gain back a sense of normalcy, and even when they did, you still couldn’t shake off the things that had happened to you. You’d have given anything to have your memories taken from you again; remembering what you’ve had to endure was the worst torture imaginable.

Some, like Minho, had no problem starting over. He’d quickly settled in as the leader of the group of Immunes that had made it, creating a building committee and everything else necessary to run your new community. You didn’t want anything to do with it. You were perfectly fine with sitting by the ocean all day and doing absolutely nothing. For days, that was all your schedule consisted of – long walks up and down the beach, followed by the occasional nap. You didn’t want to see anyone or talk to anyone, or even be near anyone.

Especially not Gally. Not after what you’d told him the last time you two had a one-on-one conversation.

Yet as you were waking up from one of your beach naps, you noticed him sitting beside you. He looked different; though he had the same scars and the same crooked nose, he seemed younger, like he’d gained back all the years that had been stolen from him by WICKED. The sea breeze blew back his dark hair, making him look almost handsome. And in a different time and place, he could have been.

“Sleep well?” he asked.

You brushed the sand out of your hair and shrugged. “Not really.”

He squared his shoulders. “Can we talk or do you want me to come back later?”

“No, we can talk.”

“Okay. Then I’ll say what I have to say and be done with it.” Gally paused as if collecting his thoughts. “I miss you. I miss you so much it shucking hurts. And I get that I’ve done things that have hurt you too.” He jerked his chin towards your hand. “But you wouldn’t still be wearing that ring if you didn’t give a damn about us.”

He was right. The ring had stayed on because it was the only little bit of hope you had left to cling to. The idea that one day, things would be good enough for the two of you to forgive each other and put the past behind you and start a new life together was the only thing that had kept you going.

“I’m sorry about what I said in Denver,” you told him. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I know.”

Gally cupped your cheeks and kissed you until you couldn’t breathe. Your whole world settled into place under his touch; there was no fiber of doubt in your body that this was where you belonged – with Gally.

Then, he took something shiny out of his pocket, and when you realized what it was, your eyes widened in surprise.

“Are you serious?”

Gally smiled, and this time it seemed to suit him. “I did promise you I���d get you the real thing one day, didn’t I?”

He was holding a ring, more beautiful than you’d ever seen – white gold with inset diamonds that sparkled brilliantly under the sun.

“How the hell did you even get this?” you asked incredulously.

“I nicked it back in Denver.”

There it was, the Gally you fell in love with. Everything the two of you had been through suddenly didn’t seem so bad anymore. You’d found each other every time, both in the Maze and out. If the suffering you’d gone through was the price you’d been required to pay for that, then it was worth it.

Gally slipped the ring on your finger, settling it right beside the wooden one he’d made for you, and then kissed the top of your hand. Neither of you said anything for a while, because there was nothing that could express how you felt. He’d handed you his heart and you’d taken it.

It was as simple as that.

[thatshankcallednewt]

The Maze Runner: High School AU - Gally: Together - Part 7

If you missed Part One//Part Two//Part Three// Part Four// Part Five//Part Six

Tags: @preciousnewt 

You’re already searching for Teresa and the gang as you walk over to the football field stands; a mass of people have already claimed their seats. You walk across the front, the smell of hotdogs and other junk food stink out the place already.

You finally spot them and make your way up towards them, comfortable seating in the middle. They all greet you, and you instantly get introduced to Newt’s new girlfriend. She smiles and greets you kindly, so far, that’s enough for your approval.

You take a seat next to Thomas and fight off a hitch in your breathing when you see how nice he looks. You mentally slap yourself, don’t even think about it. But you can’t help it, he smells nice too and he already bought you some food and drink.

You both talk for a bit, mostly about school but also about football. You only attended one game before with Minho and Newt, it wasn’t the greatest thing ever. You remember seeing Gally out on the field though, you remember noticing how well he played with his team. This time you’re sure you’ll find it more exciting now that you actually know Gally.

Everyone starts to cheer as your school’s football team runs onto the field; chants echo throughout the stands.

Teresa nudges you and nods over to the boys as they prepare for the game, “That one, number 14, he’s the one who’s been harassing Tom.” You stare out to unfortunately see Gally wearing that number. “Technically most of the team harass all the lacrosse members, but the most heated is between Gally and Tom.”

You don’t reply but instead watch the field. You focus on Gally; what would make him act like that towards Thomas? It just doesn’t add up in your head. Sure, Gally might seem to have that stereotypical jock persona, but just because it seems that way doesn’t mean it should be that way.

A few minutes into the game, you notice Thomas gets up from his seat and leaves –probably going off to refill his drink or to the toilets, so you take this opportunity to continue the conversation from before.

You turn to Teresa, “Do you know why Gally and Thomas are fighting?”

She swallows a mouthful of her drink before replying, after checking if Thomas is still around to hear, “The football team in general don’t like the lacrosse team because of how they think they’ve taken over the sport side of the school, something stupid like that.” She pauses to slurp from her drink again, “But between Gally and Tom? Something to do with Gally’s older brother, but I don’t know what.”

“He has an older brother?” Your eyes widen and you mentally scold yourself for seeming way too interested, you keep forgetting that you’re supposed to act as if you don’t know Gally at all. It’s frustrating, but you definitely know now that you have to keep it a secret if Thomas has been fighting with him…

Thankfully Teresa doesn’t seem to take too much notice of your question anyway, “Yeah, he did. His name was Justin.”

Did? Was? “Where… where is he now?”

Teresa looks at you, “You don’t know?”

You shake your head.

“Last year, around November I think, Justin got shot on the street. He died instantly, it was terrible really.”

Your mouth drops, “How come I didn’t know? The school… The school would have said something right?”

Teresa shakes her head, “They didn’t want to bring much attention to it. A lot of the staff thought it was the school’s responsibility, even though he’d graduated a year before. I guess they thought it might degrade their reputation which is a terrible excuse. But what’s even worse is that there was no news story on it or anything. No investigation.”

“That’s… that’s horrible.” Suddenly it feels as though everything has been flipped upside down. You’re not sure how to feel or how to react. “Why was there no investigation?” You hear the words tumble out of your mouth but the rising panic makes them sound distant, far away. 

“He was just someone from the “hood”. White trash.” Teresa pauses to roll her eyes, “That’s their reasoning anyway, I think it’s a shitty thing to do. Not care enough about someone dying on the streets because their family didn’t have the best reputation.”

“I…” You suddenly stand up from your seat just as the game begins. The man at Gally’s car window flashes through your mind. “I’ve gotta go to the bathroom, I’ll be back in a sec.” You hurry past Teresa and the rest of them, and then make your way to the toilets. There’s no one around because the game just started, which you’re quite thankful for.

You turn on the tap in one of the sinks and splash your face, trying to rid of the horrible feeling that’s inside you. How could you have not known? “You’re so stupid…” You whisper to yourself. All this time, Gally’s been having to deal with an unjust death of his own damn brother and you’ve been worrying about friends! About tutoring him!

You grip the sides of the sink and stare into the mirror at yourself. What are you supposed to do now? Keep tutoring Gally? The last time you tried to help someone in a lot of trouble… the police got involved and you were told to never have contact with that person again.

You make your way back to the seats, and when you sit, the answer is clearer than ever before. This isn’t going to be like last time.

After the game, you and the gang wait around for Newt to talk to some of the football team members. Apparently he’s a big fanboy, and they don’t seem to mind him even if he’s best friends with one of their enemies.

Teresa eyes off one of the other football players and you mentally take note to ask her about it later. Gally wanders over to you when he notices your friends rather busy with the rest of his team. “I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight.” You notice a grin on his face and come to adore it, and that it’s there because of you.

You turn your full attention to him, “Well, here I am.” You smile, “I didn’t willfully come to see you play though, sorry. I was practically dragged over here by my friends.”

He shakes his head and laughs, but the image of him crying over his dead brother invades your mind. It’s such a shock to you that you have to take a moment to take in a deep breath.

“Quite the heartbreaker you are.” He turns just in time to see Thomas settling in right beside you, his arm touching your arm. Gally goes rigid, his jaw hardens and you notice clenched fists by his side.

A beeping noise resounds from Thomas’ phone, he looks at the text and then replies by tapping his thumbs over the mobile screen. “I’ve got to go,” he tells you, and out of nowhere pulls you into a close hug. The whiff of his hair and cologne makes you a little light-hearted, but you manage to shake whatever feeling that comes from that away. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smile, and then wave him goodbye as he walks away. Throughout that whole time, he doesn’t even blink Gally’s way.

Gally just stares at you instead, and you feel the harshness within it. What could you say to make him not mad with you? Would he even be mad with you? You open your mouth to say something but he cuts you off instantly, “You’re friends with him?” That tone of voice answers your question.

You nod your head.

“You know then?”

You frown, and finally pull together all the courage you have left to look him in the eyes. He looks furious. The intensity of his green eyes higher than ever before. “What do you mean?”

“You know that we practically hate each other, right?”

You sigh, “I… I didn’t know until a couple of days ago.”

His expression doesn’t lighten, “He’s scum, I can’t stand him.”

You blink at the sudden change in Gally’s tone, “Whoa, hang on a second Gally.” Now it’s your turn to harden your expression, “Don’t you think that’s a little bit harsh?”

“No, I don’t think it’s a little bit harsh because that’s exactly what he is! Scum!”

A few of your friends look your way, slightly confused by Gally’s outburst… and by you conversing with him.

You look him in the eye as a warning, “Calm down,” you look to your friends and smile warmly, trying to get them to think of this as nothing. “They’re going to notice we’re talking like we know each other.”

He looks taken aback by your remark, but you’re pretty sure he was the one to make it clear that he doesn’t want anyone to know of your tutoring him. “We do know each other.”

You roll your eyes, “Yeah but I thought we agreed to not let people know that?”

He frowns, “No, no, we agreed to not let people know that you’re tutoring me. Big difference.”

You look at him and see the hurt in his eyes, and you realise your mistake. “Gally–

He narrows his eyes at you, “You don’t even…” He rubs the side of his face with his hand out of frustration and exhaustion. “Whatever.” He turns to leave but hesitates, “It’s whatever. I don’t even care if you’re friends with Thomas anyway, it’s not like we’re friends.”

You watch him go as your heart sinks deeper than you ever thought it could go.

That night you awake at 4 am with Gally’s faceless brother lying dead on some cold, dark street in your mind. You notice the pool of sweat around your body and the drops on your forehead, you scold yourself for falling asleep with your socks and sweatpants on. You find a change of pyjamas, shorts and a shirt that says: I loaf you, with a picture of a loaf of bread on it. You hope it lightens your mood, especially after today.

When you crawl back into bed you can’t wipe the image away. Justin. You think back to Gally’s room and his house, Gally and Justin’s Dad. The room that was empty, the sense of abandonment. That must have been Justin’s room.

You turn over, your face smothered by your pillow. Does Gally think you know about Justin already and never brought it up? Or does he think you don’t know? Should you know? Do you want to know? You almost let out a scream of frustration from all the questions that fill your worried brain.

But the one question that sticks out from all the rest, the one that gives you the most anxiety from them all: will Gally ever speak to you again?