#its sort of meant to tie in with the ruffles on his shirt resembling a butterfly!!! i thought id make it close to a swallowtail so

[puppyeared]

wanna see a magic trick? 🪄🎩

[blaiddlleuad]

We'll meet again soon - wolfstar

Part 2

Sirius is eleven when he comes back.

This time it’s a Wednesday morning. Its late September and the trees are just starting to lose their green. Sirius couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned, flipped his pillow and changed pajamas. But he still was wide awake. He flips on the lamp that wobbled on his bed side table and sat back to staring at the mirror.

He can see himself inside. He's got his mother's grey eyes and his father's sharp cheek bones. He let his hair grow at the beginning of the year and now reaches at his shoulders. It's the same dark black as the rest of his family, one day he thinks he'd like to dye it like those men do in the magazine's he steals from the shops when he sneaks out.

He's been doing that a lot lately. Sneaking about like he's up to no good. He supposes he is really. Leaving his house in search for something fun to do. Ignoring his governess's words of wisdom to stay in line and his brother’s pleas to just be good for once. It's not the he's doing anything wrong, it's more like he's doing what his mother doesn't approve off (His father thinks it's funny, like how he was as a boy) and Sirius will do anything to piss her off.

The boy walks past just at that time. Between a blink and the light flickering. Sirius nearly misses him but he still sees the boy, taller again now.

"Hello?" He calls out.

Sirius wonders why he's doing this. Why he thinks it would be a good idea. But it was spur of the moment and the flash of something magic. A bubble that popped and a fairytale opening. A wisp of blue and purple and a flurry of dust. He couldn't miss it. The excitement coming alive. Or whatever it may be. He was being pulled towards something different, something that tickled the back of his throat.

"Hello?" He called out once more.

Then a head popped round the mirrors edge. His eyes amber, strong and mystery circled and swirled, a hint of confusion and curiosity. His tawny hair ending in curls and flopping across his head. Three great big scars ran across his face but freckles over populated and hid the scars behind them. Sirius thought he was beautiful.

"Why are you in my mirror?" The boy asked. It sounded like he was from Wales. (How is a welsh boy in an Italian mirror?)

"I'm not in your mirror. You're in mine." Sirius said. Well now that’s just odd he thinks.

"I'm sure I'm not in a mirror." The boy replied, he was now sitting down. Legs crossed and arms folded in a jumble, pointing which way and everywhere.

"Well, I'm sure I'm not either. What's your name?" Sirius asked.

"Remus. I’m Remus."

It's not until a couple of weeks later that Sirius and Remus have any sort of conversation. They smile and nod if they see one another and Sirius makes sure to say good morning and good night, even if Remus isn't there to hear him.

It's been a long day. With having a new tutor and the responsibility of being the eldest son is more tiring than Sirius expected. (He's only eleven for crying out loud!)

He changes out of stiff uniformed suit, ugly green and satin black, into his more comfortable loose jeans and blue shirt. He puts on his radio and listens to the buzz that fills the room as if it's empty and he's all alone. Like the room has expanded and grown larger in the time he took to switch it on. It makes everything echo, every breath he takes, every rustle he makes. But it's not a terrifying echo that would reach him and rid Sirius of safety, instead it gives it to him. Handing it over as a gift that should be looked after.

Sirius sits on the floor with his back against the bed. He's more stable when feeling the ground beneath him, more in control and he likes that. Regulus has found it funny. It was then that Remus came into view.

"Hello Sirius. You look tired." Remus said a matter of factly. He was wearing a too big jumper and joggers, Sirius wished he could go up to Remus and hug him, he did look soft and cuddly.

"Hi. And thanks."

"No, I didn't mean it like that. Is everything okay?"

"Ugh yes, just my tutor is so annoying. He's so old and, and old."

"Tutor?"

"You don't have one? Well I got a new one start of September, apparently I'm too old to be working with the governess. I actually liked her. She gave me sweets."

"Governess?"

Sirius faltered for a moment. Just a moment where he stopped, and everything around him did so too. It was late and of course his parents were in the parlor and his brother in the library but it seemed to him that even them had stopped. The radio still blared out music though it was all a jumble of words and sounds. Remus was different to him. Not a bad different but definitely different. Whether that be his clothes or his interest in books or the fact that he was from Wales. He was different.

Sirius however, couldn’t get it out of his head. He liked Remus, so him being any different wasn’t going to change that. He likes his smile and how his eyes light up when he does so, he likes his large cotton jumpers and his fluffy socks usually mismatched, he liked his array of freckles that resembled the stars and how they too were beautiful and that they kept distracting Sirius. He was always pulled away when Remus was in his head. But he didn’t mind. He rather liked it. At least he wasn’t constantly thinking about his mother.

“Do you go to school?” Remus asked, as Sirius came back from his momentary thinking.

“Yes, of course.”

“Like to a school. Not at home.”

“Well no. I mean, what’s it like?”

“Massive. Much larger than the local comp. Bigger library too, more books to choose from. The teachers are stricter and we have homework every week. I, I don’t really have friends, everyone is nice enough, some bitchy people but you can’t have everything, I guess. I like it, its nice. Chaotic but good.”

Sirius listened intently and imagined him and Remus sitting next to each other, passing notes and whispering about a teacher while their back is turned. Walking around, eating lunch, cracking jokes and bunking off boring lessons, hiding in the bathrooms. He imagined Remus with his head down, writing furiously, sticking his hand up and answering questions right first time, carrying around his books and reading it whenever he had a spare moment. He imagined himself pulling faces and winking at the girls, legs up relaxed and pen dangling from his teeth, tie wrapped around his head and jumper tied around his waist, sleeved rolled up to his elbows and cartoons drawn in black ink on his skin. Sirius wanted to hang out with Remus, wanted to wave him goodbye and hug with tight after a long holiday apart.

After that, they talked every night before bed. Sirius asking for more stories for Remus to tell, from his books or his life, Sirius didn’t mind, he just laid back and listened. Remus even asked his own set of questions, like what his favourite colour is to his deepest secrets. And, Sirius answered every one.

He is thirteen when he made a discovery.

It was while on one of his excursions, Sirius came about a bunch of boys around his age, maybe older he couldn’t tell. While he was wearing steam ironed shirts and smart trousers, they worse baggy jeans and jackets. Casual, Sirius thought. One of them was even wearing leather with patches and badges. They stood by the side of the road, by an alleyway that reached a rather run-down park. Sirius caught their attention as he tried to walk past.

“Oi posho!” One of them shouted. The boy with the leather. The boy with the brown eyes and perfectly straight teeth.

“Yes?” Sirius said and turned. Even though he could stare at them all day long, he really should be getting back.

“Should you be walkin’ bout these parts by yourself?”

“Why? Am I going to be in trouble?”

“Nah, jus’ gotta be safe ya know. Don’t want someone like you gettin’ in bad business.”

“Someone like me?”

“mph defiantly someone like you. Come on guys, mum said we havin’ bacon sarnies.”

The group of boys left, some more in a hurry than others but all leaving Sirius confused and alone in the middle of the path. He brushed it off and rushed home without raising suspicion from his parents. Sirius didn’t tell Remus about his little encounter and he certainly didn’t tell him about his feelings about it.

It was odd but not uncomfortable, slightly unnerving yet not something he would try and make go away. A soft and prickly feeling deep in his belly. A dizzying fermented bloom that sits peacefully within. A huge rounding urge that moves up and down, sideways and which ways. It flutters in his head and sinks in the pits. And he has these dreams. Fantasies that seem to real to be all in his mind. The touches and the looks. The flushed faces and cheeky winks. Sirius wakes up flustered and dazed, confused and shy of his own body, running to the bathroom before he can end up back asleep.

And it wasn't like he thought it would be. Sirius those he would be tripping up and dropping his things and walking into walls over girls. With the plump lips with perfect red lipstick, the dresses that flow when they spin in the wind, hair put in a bun effortlessly so even if pieces come out it looks like it was meant to be. That's what he sees when he goes out, when he sneaks glances over his shoulder or out of his window as a gaggle of girls squeal past. But that wasn't what he saw.

Sirius sees boys with boystorus laughs and rough shoulders, a bobbing Adams apple and the picked nails. The carless clothes and the forgotten hair that ruffles in the morning. The side looks filled with recognition and a silent talking that speaks too loud and too distant. Voices with envy and jealousy, tones with calm and gratitude. Sirius sees what he doesn't understand, what others don't notice. What they might deem inappropriate and juvenile.

Sirius couldn't make himself feel the same way for the girls. They didn't make him blush and turn away to hide it, they'd didn't make him dream about those pillow talks, they'd didn't make him fall head over heals. Sirius secretly enjoyed his difference. Though when it occurred to him who exactly made him feel that way; he didn't like it as much as he thought.

He liked Remus. More than just friends. He wished for things to happen and then didn't when he realised who it was. He had him in his dreams and let him come closer until he remembered and pushed away. He couldn't. No, he couldn't be falling for the boy in his mirror.

Sirius is fifteen when Remus told him his secret.

The years had gone by like lightning flashing after thunder. Quick but the rumble still goes one and is rarely forgotten. Sirius told himself to never forget the times he watches Remus talk; when he grows tall and when he gets excited, where he flashes him the smile that send him sky rocketing, even the times where they are both silent. He captivates everything. Storing it in his head and keeping it safe.

Sirius had hoped that maybe his falling would stop and he would be caught be another. But it never happened. He was stuck in a sticky pulsing red that captured him and held him tight. As Sirius watched Remus grow through the mirror, he fell faster and faster.

Its a warm August evening. His fan ran circles to cool him down and stop the sweat from bubbling up. His windows were strechted open a soft breeze coming through though not in aid to the heat that gathered. Sirius changed into shorts and a tank vest top. It was either that or being naked. And Sirius didn't think neither he or Remus would find any delight in that sight.

"Hey Sirius. I see you are getting the heat wave."

"Oh yeah it's just so great. Hang on! How are you in a jumper?"

"It's not hot. Cool breeze we have here."

"So unfair. I'm telling you. You should see Regulus, he cant handle the heat and has been taking ice baths to cool down! I think you would get along with him."

"Sirius."

"Yeah."

"I need to tell you something."

Remus whispered that. It was quiet and barely audible but Sirius caught and couldn't help but stare. For the first time that night he really got a look at Remus. Instead of the casual boy that always chose to sit cross legged with a smile, he was anxiously running his hands through another and Sirius noticed his eyes cast away, down at the floor like his carpet had changed patterns and was now interesting.

"Are, are you okay Remus?"

"I have to tell you something."

"Okay."

"I, I'm, god this is hard. Well basically, I am, I am gay."

He has tears in his eyes. Sirius can't talk. His throat is dry. Sirius just plumetted to the hard ground in which he had started falling towards. He smiles.

They are nineteen when ready at the train station.

They run and run, breathing is hard but they don't care. Bags thumping against backs and shoes squeak as they dodge past other people. They lose eachother other for only a moment though it is too long of a second for then to shrug it on. It has claws that scratch and teeth that bite. The second passes and they both stop. Staring at eachother in the flesh. They stop and just stare. Its too unreal, too much and too heart aching.

But it doesn't matter. The throbbing pain that threatens to tear them apart subdues as the platform grows quiet. They slowly take steps forward, engulfing the space between before it's nothing more than a mere inches. Remus makes the first move. He wraps his arms around Sirius and sqeazes tight. They both do. It's been too long to not let go.

"You are even better in person." Sirius whispers into Remus's chest.

They pull away just the much needed to reach and hold onto each others faces. With no one around and no one to disturb them, they kiss. Gentle and soft. Lips press together, fitting around awkward and fitting snug. A bliss that shines bright, a pleasure that rushes red, a joy that filtered around the edges.

"You've always been in the middle of my mirror."

"You've always been in the middle of my mind."

[authorized-trash]

To Tie a Knot: Chapter 4: That Moment When Fate Ships You With Four Other People

Ao3

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Five

Content Warnings: Mentioned character death, vomit mention, self deprecation, panic attack, cursing, (tell me if there's more)

Chapter Summary:

That moment when you need to find yet another boyfriend to add to your collection, *sigh*.

Word Count:

2,500+

Note:

I was hit with inspiration for some reason, so here’s this chapter, and the next one will be up in a little bit, I just got to format it for tumblr. Sorry its been awhile, this story is kinda just, I update whenever my mind decides to. 

Everyone over on Ao3 has taken well to this chapter and the next chapter, so I hope you all do too!

(Incase you were wondering, i changed up the chapter titles, i got tired of trying to come up with different alliterate phrases, so im just gonna be dumb with the titles as;ldfkj)

- -

Damian hadn’t even noticed when he slumped to his knees. Tears dripped from his cheeks and landed onto his outstretched palm. Remy’s eyes widened and he quickly moved to get on Damian’s level.

“Dee? You okay there? Did you not know?” He asked, gently taking Damian’s trembling hands in his own. Damian let him, too shocked to take them back.

“N-no? What? How am I supposed to deal with four Remy, I already lost one I can’t- I can’t lose four!” Damian said, staring blankly at his hands, at the strings he was now aware of. He could feel them tug and twitch as his soulmates moved. They were all pretty close to one another, stretching in the same direction. Figures, they had probably met up by now. 

Damian was the outcast.

“You aren’t going to lose them,” Remy said, an edge to his voice, “Damian you won’t lose them, you were jus- just unlucky the first time, babes, I promise. This time will be better.”

“No Remy you don’t understand, they’re paired with me, they’ll die, I’m bad luck or something-”

“Damian Janus Lyer, don’t. Don’t say that. You’re not. I know you, this isn’t you, you’re just tired and not thinking clearly. This is a good thing. You aren’t bad luck. You aren’t, and babes, if I hear you say that one more time I’m going to throw some punches,” Remy said. Damian gave a watery chuckle, and Remy smirked.

“Listen, you are in no state to go in there right now. Why don’t we ditch for a little while and go get some food or somethin’”

Damian nodded, moving to stand. He dusted himself off. He looked down at his strings. The four colors were all lovely, red, blue, indigo, and purple. The colors were deep and ethereal in a magicky sort of way. 

Without thinking he strummed a finger across them, and startled when three out of the four tugged back. The last one, purple, started vibrating in a way that one would think meant the person on the other side was running their finger across the line.

More tears gathered in Damian’s eyes. He was connected with these people. They were his soulmates. They were there, on the other side, waiting. The thought of them being disappointed weighed heavy, but in this small moment he could only think of the opportunity that was given to him.

Remy watched this with a small smile, ruffling Damian’s hair as they began to walk off campus to his car.

Damian followed, hurriedly wiping the tears from his eyes and smoothing his hair down.

“Listen, babes, you pick where we eat, and I’ll pay.”

Damian shrugged, “Thanks.”

“What? No arguing that you’ll pay this time?”

Damian rolled his eyes, “You offered and I’m too emotionally confused to argue.” 

His voice was thick with tears and still wobbled every once in a while, but he had managed to compose himself well enough by now. He slid into the car seat next to Remy.

He made a point not to touch the strings, not wanting them to move. He didn’t want to seem needy or something. He relaxed fractionally, attempting to gaige some personality from the strings. Indigo (Or was it navy? It was rather dark, nearly black. It was decidedly not black when reflecting light), was shaking around as if someone was writing with that hand. Red was pretty still, expect for a few swoopy movements, as if the person was flailing their arms around. Purple was shaking slightly but otherwise not moving, and blue was fluttering around like crazy, and Damian was certain the person was messing with their string.

For a moment he wondered what his string looked like to them. He hoped it was yellow, maybe gold. He liked those colors. Green would also be nice, but he doubted that was the color, seeing as his last soul string was gre-

Damian’s breath hitched, and that feeling of loss hit him hard, and he clenched his hands into fists. Remy glanced over at him, but didn’t comment.

He was so caught up in this new soulmate business he had forgotten he had already had one. One he had lost. The string he had grown up with, the one he had talked about with friends in grade school. The one that appeared on his fragile little hands when he was born. The part of his soul that he grew to know.

The one he knew would shake wildly sometimes, or tug painfully at others. The one he would console with gentle strokes late at night when he would wake up to it trembling. The one that would do the same for him, that had always been a comfortable weight throughout his recovery as a kid.

He would never meet the other end. Never know who it was. 

They could have died suddenly or painfully, and here they were, forgotten by their soulmate a month later due to the reassigning. Damian was so ready to forget them, and the guilt of that was weighing on him so hard he wanted to vomit.

He pulled his knees to his chest and tried to steady his breathing, ignoring the light feeling of the dangling frayed string on his hand. 

He closed his eyes and lied to himself about how bad it hurt.

-

“It is a very lovely shade of yellow,” Roman commented from where he was laying on the couch. He was looking up towards the ceiling, his hand containing his string collection in front of his face as he examined the sun colored string as it swung with the others.

“It reminds me of a sunflower when hit by the sun juuusst right,” Patton said, curled up on Roman’s chest. He was also looking at Roman’s hand, messing with his own strings absentmindedly. 

Logan was sitting in the arm chair across the room, having stayed home. They all had decided to take the day off of responsibilities, this was a large occasion, after all. He had a notepad on his lap and was writing down everything he could about the situation. He had a knack for writing information about anything and everything down. He liked to be well documented.

Virgil was curled up on the floor, scrolling through Tumblr in the way he does when he’s thinking, and not reading a single thing. If it looked like art and was colorful, he reblogged it without thinking. He was more focused on the way the new string on his hand looked as he occasionally typed.

They all sat around in domestic silence, preparing for the long talk they were going to have to have soon. 

They all noticed it, despite no one saying it aloud. That feeling of something missing. They grew up with it, but had by now gotten so used to that feeling of wholeness. Now that it was gone, so suddenly? They didn’t know how to feel about it, really. It’s easy to lose something you didn’t get a chance to know or experience, but getting a taste of something amazing to have it disappear was near torture.

“I think it appears to resemble the yellow paint Roman likes to get all of the carpet,” Logan said, lips upturning slightly at Roman’s upfronted sound.

“Nah, it def’ looks like… I don’t know, snakey,” Virgil said.

“Snakey?” Roman asked, laughing slightly, “What about the color looks like a slithering reptile?”

“Uh, snakes equal yellow, duh? Same as seven being green,” Virgil rolled his eyes as if it were obvious.

Patton laughed, “Kiddo, seven is pink.”

“Seven is seven? It cannot be either pink or green, it is a number,” Logan said, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“Just let them be weird, Specs, with their weird color assigning,” Roman laughed, sitting up. Patton yelped as he slid off the couch.

“Listen, I’m just saying its snake yellow,” Virgil said, “But if you wann-”

Virgil was caught off as a particularly hard twinge came from the yellow string. He looked around at the others, and noticed they had felt it too. Up until this point the string was pretty chill, if a little shaky. Logan had suggested earlier it was due to shock.

As crazy as gaining a new string out of the blue was a wild, gaining four strings must have been insane. Virgil pitied the poor person, it probably scared the shit out of them.

Without thinking, he reached forward and ran his index finger over the string a few times, showing that he was here.

“This is so exciting! We have another soulmate to hunt down!” He waved his arms around animatedly. He looked as if the idea had just clicked for him.

There was a whole other person out there waiting for them, someone who would fit into their little dynamic. Someone with likes and dislikes and quirks and feelings, a whole human being.

Virgil felt himself smiling along with the others. Logan had gone back to scribbling on his notepad, even faster this time. Patton was chatting with Roman about the possibilities while rolling the string around in his fingers.

Virgil curled into the warmth of his hoodie, and for once, allowed himself to look forward to the unknown future.

-

By the time Damian had gotten home late that night, he was exhausted. He collapsed onto his bed in a pile of limbs, kicking his shoes off and snuggling into the covers. He didn’t bother with his shirt other than unbuttoning the top couple of buttons, and he had long since ditched his gloves. They were currently somewhere buried in his bag.

He and Remy had loitered around town for a while, talking about anything and everything. Damian had really tried to be in high spirits and give his usual sarcasm, but he just wasn’t feeling it. 

His eyes drifted shut, and the beginnings of a dream had already begun to swirl, sounds and nonsense conversations were supplied to his mind, and he let his mind wander as it drifted into resting mode.

That is, until he felt a tug on his ring finger.

 He opened his eyes a bit, glancing down at his hand, at the indigo string.

Tug.

His eyes opened, he was paying attention now.

Tug tug tug tug. Tug. Tug pull tug tug. Tug pull tug tug. Pull pull pull.

Damian moved to sit up, but found the effort to be too much. He decided, through the hazy-slow process that was thinking when half asleep, that this was a matter of importance, and therefore should happen in the morning. So he fell back asleep without paying it too much mind.

-

Logan sighed heavily as he stood from his chair, giving up on tapping out a message to their new soulmate. During their talk earlier the group had decided that it would be a good idea to try and meet this person as soon as possible, in order to diminish the time they felt incomplete.

It shouldn’t be too difficult. They could all drive, and all felt like the soulmate had to be relatively close. Reassignments normally happened to people who are near each other. The farthest recorded reassigned soulmates were four states away from each other. Almost everyone else was within the same state at least.

Logan had proposed morse code, the same way he and Patton had found each other, and the way they would occasionally send stupidly sappy quotes to one another on occasion. It must have been too late because the person wasn’t answering. He would have to try again sometimes tomorrow.

He heard a soft knock on his office door, and a few hushed whispers from somewhere farther in their shared house.

“Yes?” He called through the door, looking over as it slowly opened. It was only a little past midnight, but he still felt it to be inappropriate to talk any louder.

“Hey Lo? Me and the other two were wondering if you could join us in the kitchen to talk… again,” Patton said softly, leaning against the doorframe.

“The others and I,” Logan corrected, but nodded as he stood up, “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. My sleeping schedule is probably messed up at this point anyway.”

Patton smiled fondly, and turned to lead Logan back to the kitchen. Virgil and Roman were sitting across from each other at the table, bickering about something under their voices.

They both looked up when Logan walked in,

“Okay, so, now that we’re all here,” Patton started, clasping his hands together as he sat down. Logan pulled up a chair, spinning it so it was backwards. He loathed to sit in chairs normally, both he and Virgil seemed to share that small quirk. Roman simply splayed himself out on the nearest surface, and Patton tended to sit criss-cross on the floor more often than a chair.

Logan shook his head to snap himself out of his wandering thoughts, focusing back onto Patton.

“We’ve come to a decision, Logan, and I’m sorry you weren’t here a little earlier, but we didn’t want to bother your work.” Logan nodded, not at all perturbed by being left out of the conversation. In fact, he was happy they left him to his own devices for awhile. It’s not like he was out of the loop, they were having the conversation for a reason.

“And?” He asked, quirking his head to the side.

“-And we’ve come to the conclusion-”

“Patton, please stop sounding so serious, it’s unnerving, that’s Logan’s thing,” Virgil cut in, rolling his eyes fondly.

Patton snickered, but continued, “We think it would be best if you were the one to go find our new soulmate. Like you said earlier, meeting all of us at once might be too much for them, and you’re one the… er… easier of us to handle.”

“Roman would probably serenade them the moment he saw them,” Virgil teased, elbowing said soulmate.

“Excuse you, you’d scare them off with all that,” Roman gestured to Virgil’s outfit, “Edge.”

“I see. So when should I leave? I’ll have to call off work and do extra to catch up in my classes.”

“Sometime tomorrow would be good, Lo. I’m hoping to meet them by the end of the week. I really do think they’re close, if not in town.”

“I agree,” Roman nodded, and Virgil shifted and did so as well.

“Very well. I’ll leave around noon, then. I planned on continuing with the messages until I manage to get an answer, Perhaps they’ll tell me where they are. It shouldn’t be much harder than that.”

“Yeah! That sounds awesome,” Patton smiled, then suddenly squealed and flapped his hands, “Ooh I’m just so excited to meet them, my goodness-”

“I wonder what they will be like, I don’t think I could stand another emo in the group,” Roman joked, and Virgil swatted at them.

“Listen here Princey, you like my emo. Besides, your eyeliner was a hot mess before I showed you how to properly apply it, so you better thank this emo,” Virgil snapped playfully.

Logan watched them with a soft expression, standing up and stretching.

“We should all get some rest, then. Big day tomorrow,” Logan said, walking towards their room. The others nodded and moved to stand.

Big day, indeed.

-

-

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