#someone who never gives to others will someday become unable to receive anything from them: YUSHIRO

[purpurapoena]

tag dump

[edenmemes]

misc poetry sentence starters

❝  one gets so used to one’s own horrors, one forgets how they must seem to other people.  ❞ ❝  you remind me what love lives in this skin.  ❞ ❝  you are the most phantom-like of all; you are a mere dream.  ❞ ❝  i’m not telling you a story so much as a shipwreck—the places floating, finally legible.  ❞ ❝  the world was made so we can find each other in it.  ❞ ❝  the night isn’t dark; the world is dark. stay with me a little longer.  ❞ ❝  i want you desperately. i want your strength and your softness, your hands, all of you.  ❞ ❝  is that too much to expect? that i would name the stars for you?  ❞ ❝  against your cheek my hand is warm and full of tenderness.  ❞ ❝  the world grows green again when you smile.  ❞ ❝  your share of pains would fill a sea.  ❞ ❝  i’m so stuck on the ‘was’ of people.  ❞ ❝  what i love in you is your power of loving, a bit wild, a bit primitive, but absolute.  ❞ ❝  i like figuring you out. you are so human and puzzling.  ❞ ❝  the unwillingness to try is worse than any failure.  ❞ ❝  you wanted happiness. i can’t blame you for that.  ❞ ❝  i did violence to my own heart.  ❞ ❝  i don’t know how to stay tender with this much blood in my mouth.  ❞ ❝  like a magpie, i am a scavenger of shiny things: fairy tales and dead languages.  ❞ ❝  and here you come with a shield for a heart and a sword for a tongue.  ❞ ❝  you kiss the back of my legs and i want to cry.    only the sun has come this close, only the sun.  ❞ ❝  sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof you’ve been ruined.  ❞ ❝  when will it cease, this monstrous rage of yours?  ❞ ❝  i will plant my hands in the garden. i will grow, i know, i know.  ❞ ❝  i had it all and i want it back again.  ❞ ❝  i don’t care about anyone, and the feeling is quite obviously mutual.  ❞ ❝  we are two reflections that cross swords with each other.  ❞ ❝  as for me, i am a watercolour. i wash off.  ❞ ❝  do you dare send me away as though you were were waiting for something better?  ❞ ❝  my dear, you are in danger of being burned by your own flame.  ❞ ❝  i am three oceans away from my soul.  ❞ ❝  you, occasionally, glimmer with a light i’ve never seen before. it frightens me.  ❞ ❝  i went to sleep last night so i could see you.  ❞ ❝  even the eyes of gods must adjust to light. even gods have gods.  ❞ ❝  how much can you change and get away with it, before you turn into someone else, before it’s some kind of murder?  ❞ ❝  it does me no good to be good to me now.  ❞ ❝  i may look alright, but if you were to look more closely you wouldn’t find a single healthy bit in me.  ❞ ❝  i must clothe myself in other worlds.  ❞ ❝  suffering is the privilege of those who feel.  ❞ ❝  sorry about the blood in your mouth. i wish it was mine.  ❞ ❝  the vigor, the fire, that enables you to love and create. when you lose that, you’ve lost everything.  ❞ ❝  i can be bold, because i have you with me always.  ❞ ❝  you are shaking fists and trembling teeth. i know: you did not mean to be cruel. that does not mean you were kind.  ❞ ❝  not that i want to be a god or a hero, just to change into a tree,  grow for ages, not hurt anyone.  ❞ ❝  i laughed today. for a second i was unhaunted.  ❞ ❝  you are sunlight through a window, which i stand in, warmed.  ❞ ❝  there’s something electric in your blood.  ❞ ❝  you say you are broken,   but broken mirrors like you create the most beautiful patterns of light.  ❞ ❝  time doesn’t obey our commands.  ❞ ❝  i love you quite passionately, and with a touch of tragedy.  ❞ ❝  to feel anything deranges you. to be seen feeling anything strips you naked.  ❞ ❝  i love you --- like a storm bursts overhead --- i must confess it; all the more fiercely because you burn and bite.  ❞ ❝  and i have seen rivers, not unlike you, that failed to find their way back.  ❞ ❝  i am less a god now that you’ve touched me.  ❞ ❝  your words are gentle; but my blood runs cold to think what plots you may be nursing deep within your heart.  ❞ ❝  you said i killed you --- haunt me then.  ❞ ❝  your soul is frail and solemn, loyal and spring-like.  ❞ ❝  you look like you’ve eaten the sun, like you drank so much sunlight you’re drowning in it.  ❞ ❝  strangeness is a necessary ingredient in beauty.  ❞ ❝  you will hear thunder and remember me.  ❞ ❝  ever think it’s possible for us to be happy?  ❞ ❝  and i would wonder across all the deserts of this world, even after death, to search for you.  ❞ ❝  since we’re bound to be something, why not together?  ❞ ❝  i am ashes were once i was fire.  ❞ ❝  this mouth will destroy you the moment you mistake it for something soft, for something that is yours.  ❞ ❝  it’s no easy thing to bear, the weight of sweetness.  ❞ ❝  kill the light! i’d rather wallow in the dark.  ❞ ❝  i have thought of you often since the darkness.  ❞ ❝  with your presence the sun becomes irrelevant.  ❞ ❝  there is no god left in this skin. there’s just the ash. just the ash.  ❞ ❝  open your eyes, look more sharply, see me as i am.  ❞ ❝  what the hell is tragedy? i am.  ❞ ❝  i’ve got a lot of feeling for you. you’re kind.  ❞ ❝  how beautiful it is, how beautiful, that glow before the stars break.  ❞ ❝  so much to do today: kill memory, kill pain, turn heart into a stone, and yet prepare to live again.  ❞ ❝  i am myself. that is not enough.  ❞ ❝  i may be mad, god-seized, but i will stand outside my madness.  ❞ ❝  my power, which to me is still a curse ---  ❞ ❝  ocean sea with its caressing swell; it has so often cooled my heart.  ❞ ❝  do you bathe in perfume, and dry yourself in light?  ❞ ❝  i like you; your eyes are full of language.  ❞ ❝  let me tell you what i do know.    i am more than one thing and not all of those things are good.  ❞ ❝  you are the cause and the cure --- both.  ❞ ❝  i have kisses for the back of your neck.  ❞ ❝  your beautiful glance is unbearably cruel.  ❞ ❝  we might meet again, someday between dreams at dawn.  ❞ ❝  suffering is a terrible fire; it either purifies or destroys.  ❞ ❝  lately it hurts more to imagine you are a stranger rather than a destroyer.  ❞ ❝  and i say to myself: a moon will rise from my darkness.  ❞ ❝  since you walked out on me, i’m getting lovelier by the hour. i glow like a corpse in the dark.  ❞ ❝  i will not whine. i will obey and be forever still.  ❞ ❝  you move like the moon.  ❞ ❝  my eyes ache with the weight of unshed tears.  ❞ ❝  in your eyes, the fires of twilight.  ❞ ❝  do not haunt my soul; i have done well forgetting you.  ❞ ❝  i am no one. i cannot love. it’s in my blood.  ❞ ❝  you’re wearing your armor to protect your heart. who can blame you? it only makes sense in a world like this one.  ❞ ❝  you are not real. you are a dream of a dream.  ❞ ❝  there are so many things i’m not allowed to tell you.  ❞ ❝  i am indeed a shameless, evil-minded and abominable creature.  ❞ ❝  come this evening --- i am eager for stars.  ❞ ❝  i am on fire with that soft sound you make, in uttering my name.  ❞ ❝  i want you mostly in the morning when my soul is weak from dreaming.  ❞ ❝  to me you are the desert and the sea; everything secretive.  ❞ ❝  i thought i was wounded to the core but i was only bruised.  ❞ ❝  it is a dead heart. it is inside of me. it is a stranger.  ❞ ❝  i live --- but i’m mutilated.  ❞ ❝  if there is a light then i am going to swallow it.    if there is a god then i’m going to make him cry.  ❞ ❝  i am condemned to be a saint or a monster: unable to be the one, unwilling to be the other.  ❞ ❝  you will open your wounds and make them a garden.  ❞ ❝  i come home --- and i feel like a ghost returning its haunt.  ❞ ❝  i planted roses, but without you they were thorns.  ❞ ❝  everything inside me is in revolt.  ❞ ❝  how this darkness soaks me through and through.  ❞ ❝  give me my robe, put on my crown; i have immortal longings in me.  ❞ ❝  say something dangerous like i love you.  ❞ ❝  listen, are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life?  ❞ ❝  in times of crisis, we must decide again and again whom we love.  ❞ ❝  breathe the scent of little, earthly things. let the twilight touch you.  ❞ ❝  my heart is just like the ocean, has storm and calm and tides.  ❞ ❝  you became for me a sacred being, not to be touched save in adoring thoughts.  ❞ ❝  gods are stubborn. so am i.  ❞ ❝  is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?  ❞ ❝  there’s something soft in me. i killed it and it’s rotting.  ❞ ❝  beware. beware. there is a tenderness.  ❞ ❝  half gods are worshipped in wine and flowers. real gods require blood.  ❞ ❝  i’m alive. like a wound, a flower in the flesh, the path of aching blood is open within me.  ❞ ❝  you dangle on the leash of your own longing; your need grows teeth.  ❞ ❝  i have it in me...to scare myself with my own desert places.  ❞ ❝  my mouth still houses century-old magic.     in my ears i hear a ringing and singing and no god.  ❞ ❝  keep talking. i’ll keep walking toward the sound of your voice.  ❞ ❝  i’m full of poetry now. rot and poetry. rotten poetry.  ❞ ❝  this skin is sick with loneliness.  ❞ ❝  memories are sharp. they bite. i have spent most of my life trying to grow a thicker skin just to make sure i would not bleed out whenever i felt those teeth scrape up against me.  ❞ ❝  i wonder if i will ever find a language to speak of the things that haunt me the most.  ❞ ❝  after fury, what do you do with the remains?  ❞ ❝  come on, dance with me. the earth is spinning. we can’t just stand on it.  ❞ ❝  let’s admit, without apology, what we do together.  ❞ ❝  try to find the right place for yourself. if you can’t find it, at least dream of it.  ❞ ❝  it takes grace to remain kind in cruel situations.  ❞ ❝  i am too full of life to be half-loved.  ❞ ❝  today you want nothing because wanting comes too close to feeling.  ❞ ❝  there’s nothing more terrible, more alluring, more mysterious than love.  ❞ ❝  heavenly wine and roses seem to whisper to me when you smile.  ❞ ❝  my soul is devoutly and wholly under your spell.  ❞ ❝  will you see the human in my being?  ❞ ❝  if i had a flower for every time i thought of you…i could walk through my garden forever.  ❞ ❝  part broken part whole, you begin again.  ❞ ❝  i don’t know if love’s a feeling. sometimes i think it’s a matter of seeing. seeing you.  ❞ ❝  i wonder which will get you killed faster, your loyalty or your stubbornness?  ❞ ❝  whether you come as a lover or an exeutioner, i am ready to receive you.  ❞ ❝  i think i understand your longing. it looks so much like mine.  ❞ ❝  i’ve had so many knives stuck into me. when they hand me a flower, i can’t quite make out what it is.  ❞ ❝  i like the sea: we understand one another. it is always yearning, sighing for something it cannot have; so am i.  ❞ ❝  do i not live? badly, i know, but i live.  ❞ ❝  something of you stuck with me. a splinter.  ❞ ❝  i clung to your hands so that something human might exist in the chaos.  ❞ ❝  sometimes i shut my eyes, and shut my heart towards you, and try hard to forget you because you grieve me so, but you’ll never go away. oh you never will.  ❞ ❝  my golden love, if only you knew, what precious honey you are for me.  ❞ ❝  i had an old wound once, but it is healing.  ❞ ❝  always this in-betweenness, this almost, this it might be that...  ❞ ❝  when i close my eyes, i see you. when i open my eyes i want to see you.  ❞ ❝  dark as it is --- you see, that little flickering, is the light of my soul.  ❞ ❝  am i a monster or is this what it means to be a person?  ❞ ❝  i am talking about evil. it blooms. it eats. it grins.  ❞ ❝  sapphires are those eyes of yours, ravishingly sweet.  ❞

[awarmbowlofhomemadesoup]

AceAro Miles Edgeworth’s Platonic Crush on Phoenix Wright Headcanons

Platonic crush: the desire to be platonically intimate with someone without romantic or sexual attraction. Intensity like any kind of crushes can vary. 

In Childhood:

When they were children, Miles would often talk more about Phoenix than Larry, to the point that Ray Shields began teasing him about having a crush on Phoenix. And Miles would be like, “No?” because last time he checked he wasn’t experiencing that “heart stuff” that he sees in zany cartoons.

When they have to sit and rest somewhere, Miles would read a book with at least his knee touching Phoenix. Or if there was enough space, his back touching Phoenix’s side. No, Larry, it’s not a snuggle, now hush. (Similar to how a cat would lounge at their favorite owner’s side while casually not looking at them).

As much as he enjoyed them as the Signal Samurai trio, his favorite moments were just talking with Phoenix about anything under the sun -in the early hour before class or when they have dropped Larry home and it was just him and Phoenix. 

He often looked forward to the quiet instances that Phoenix would hold his hand while they’re walking home alone since Phoenix is more at ease with affection than he was.

Some teenagers hollered at them for it and Phoenix let go, embarrassed, while Miles was wondering why he was embarrassed when they both know it was because they were good friends. So he just stubbornly grabbed his hand again and dragged him away from those immature buffoons.

Miles was neutral when it comes to Valentines Day. But when Phoenix received a box of chocolates from a girl he likes, Miles became more aloof and disinterested. He wondered why there was no celebration for friendship. Idle time was spent on thinking what gift he would give Phoenix if there was a proper day for celebrating best friends. (Larry is also his best friend but he doesn’t have the word that distinguishes his friendship with Larry and friendship with Phoenix.)

Miles was disappointed that he was unable to find the specific term between best friend and deeper best friend. Even his father doesn’t know. Gregory Edgeworth assured him he would find it someday.

Being someone who thinks ahead, Miles knew that someday Phoenix might not prioritize and value their friendship as much as he does once Phoenix would get a girlfriend. Miles tried very hard not to think of the time they would be in middle school.

After Gregory’s death, Miles never received Phoenix’s letters as von Karma wants to isolate him from his original home. Even when Miles appreciate the song request from Phoenix dedicated to him, von Karma made it clear that sentimental relations will distract him from perfection. Plus, Miles thought it was a one time and that Phoenix probably had a girlfriend to dedicate himself to by now.

In Adulthood (Platonic Crush to Queerplatonic Attraction to QP Love):

Early Career. When Miles received college Phoenix’s letters, his first reaction was confusion. Out-of-the-blue this ghost from the past was asking him why he was being called Demon Prosecutor. Second reaction was stonewalling. There was no point delving about how a person used to make him feel. 

State vs Fey. After the trial, Miles told himself he developed an intellectual hyperfixation towards Phoenix Wright as he arranged his brand new custom chess set with the “spike-y” pawns. He was half-right. If only he wasn’t so entangled with von Karma’s opinions on “sentimental relations”.

State vs Powers. Miles’ platonic crush resurfaced somewhere after Will Powers’ case and Phoenix asking to defend him.

State vs Edgeworth. He faintly realized at the moment Phoenix had smiled at him in relief once Miles got acquitted, that Phoenix was someone he wanted in his life. If only Miles deserved so. 

Miles would never admit he finds a unique sense of enjoyment in working with cases where Phoenix had to defend. He doubted if a lot of people experience intimacy in rivalry.

State vs Skye. Unfortunately, Miles have bigger things to deal with like coming into terms with a mentor that had both raised and twisted him, struggling to find a new norm as eyes watched him, his very story available to the public, then having to face the Skye case that made him question everything he was as a prosecutor. 

It all became too much and he wasn’t thinking straight and one of those thoughts was that Phoenix was better off knowing a better person than him. 

State vs Engarde. The belief was instilled when Phoenix got mad at him for faking his own death.

After having a talk and Miles realizing that cutting people off abruptly was more of a dick move than he thought, he and Phoenix kept in touch after.

In the space he had given himself in Europe, Miles decided that aside from becoming a better lawyer, he wanted to be the friend Phoenix deserved to have in his life, with the same intimacy they had in childhood that he still couldn’t name. 

State vs Iris. Miles was pretty much neutral around Iris. If Phoenix would decide to rekindle his relationship with her (though the deception made him wrinkle his nose no matter how true Iris’ feelings were at that time), he wouldn’t care as long as he and Phoenix would still be in good terms as partners. Even if Phoenix would not put as much special connotations as he would in their partnership. That was all he could ask for after everything. 

Ace Attorney Investigations: Miles Edgeworth. Whenever Kay would tease him about “that man”, Miles would just look at her dryly. At this point, he should know not a lot of people would understand.

7-year Disbarment. Phoenix’s disbarment drew them closer together after Miles’ was finally able to contact him when Phoenix shut everyone out. Miles couldn’t do much being in Europe but he does what he could from flying them to Europe so that Phoenix could help him with his cases to caring for Trucy.

Their commitment for each other only grew from raising Trucy together to righting Japanifornia’s legal system. 

Miles wished he could kiss Phoenix on the forehead without making it weird. It just felt like Phoenix needed it. Comforting Phoenix with hugs and handholding, at least, was never questioned for romantic interest.

When Phoenix began to study for the bar again, Miles often enjoy Phoenix falling asleep on his shoulder. Unseen, Miles would smile before poking him awake.

He enjoys movie nights with the Wright family where Trucy and Phoenix would snuggle close and dinner/banter with Phoenix every week. 

Fantasies of sleep-snuggling with the man he admires and trusts the most and has an intense emotional-intellectual connection? Of course, he does. “So near and yet so far” has never been so painful in that one time they have to share a bed.

After Phoenix got his badge back, Miles was pretty much satisfied. His life was more stable, inner and outer, than it had ever been. Phoenix and Trucy’s life were also stable. Miles now felt more confident and comfortable in their bond and Miles would do what it takes to keep it as a part of his life.

He may have felt a little thrill when they both become comfortable enough for Phoenix to be casually affectionate with his touch -an arm around his shoulder as they laugh about something, a hand on his arm when asking about a case- it felt like back in their more carefree childhood. 

State vs Wyatt. Miles was pretty much ruffled with questions about marriage directed at him of all people. But if he has to marry someone, it might as well be someone he knew so well and trusts so much. Miles may have opted out some of his opinions in marriage but he was no longer the person who would lie to himself of who that someone would be.  

He wanted... something. He wanted a sort of exclusivity with Phoenix. The idea of Phoenix dating other people made Miles realized he wasn’t the type to share. The revelation itself was frustrating when he was neutral or repulsed of varying degrees when it comes to different romantic and sexual acts.

With a combination of finally having the words to describe what he wanted in Google Search and help with his therapist, the name of what he wanted with Phoenix was a queerplatonic relationship with a compromise on whatever would be Phoenix’s romantic/sexual needs from him. If Phoenix would have him as so. And if Phoenix wouldn’t... well, their friendship had been through a lot of things, this one event wouldn’t change it much. 

(This is from my own experiences and wants as someone in the acearo spectrum. I’m not the universal experience for acearo and it can be different for everyone else.)

[wallgirl]

The Little Nereid Part 13

Record of Ragnarok fanfiction

Poseidon x OC

Word count: 1,200

Dynamene, youngest of the 50 Nereids, has lived most of her adolescence as a servant alongside her sisters at Poseidon’s palace. But with her coming-of-age birthday and other developments, what she initially thought was just admiration of her master blossoms into something stronger and more passionate… and painful. Loving someone like Poseidon is not easy period, let alone as your first love. But Dynamene is young and naïve, and all she wants is a chance to be at the sea god’s side.

Categories and warnings: Romance, angst, unrequited love, coming-of-age, earn-your-happy-ending, slow-burn (ish); no sexual content. There will be some graphic violence in the future.

Updated regularly; will have about 20 parts total.

—

"Anything?" Poseidon growled lowly at the sailfish that approached him gingerly.

"No, my lord," the sailfish squeaked. "I'm deeply sorry. There has been no sighting of her." It's fins fluttered anxiously.

"Search again. No one rests until she is found. No one."

"Of course, my lord." The sailfish jetted hastily back out into the sea.

Poseidon exhaled through his nose in frustration. It had been hours since he had received word that Dynamene had run away, and there was still no clue as to where she might have gone. He himself was checking all the spots he knew the Nereids frequented near the palace, but they had all come up empty-handed. He was running out of patience. The Nereids that had stayed behind from the trip to their family home had all scattered out into the ocean as well, searching every spot they could think of that Dynamene might have gone too. It frustrated him to think that there were places she liked to visit that he didn't know about, but he snapped at himself for this. Now isn't the time.

He surfaced quickly back at the palace's beach, ocean droplets running off his body as he strode without a break in his pace from the water onto the sand. The preliminary search was turning up empty-handed. Now it was time to look deeper for clues as to where she might be.

He walked the palace halls towards her room, boots clicking heavily. He doubted anything about her escape was premeditated, but it might hold some clue as to where she might have gone.

Once he reached her door, he paused. The door creaked open before him, as if inviting him in. He'd never stepped foot in her room before, and to do so now felt almost invasive. Preposterous, he thought to himself. This is my palace, and this room belongs to me. He entered without a second more of hesitation.

It was strange to think that in the past thousand years, he'd never been in this room.

He approached the boudoir first. There were no cosmetics or other care items on it, save for a single hairbrush and a few hair pins. Her bed was unmade, the blankets tossed hastily to one side. He could picture her the morning of their departure, rushing to get ready for the trip. It was an almost comical thought.

Taking a moment to slowly scan the room, he noticed a glimmer of something blue peeking out from under her pillow. Without hesitation, he flipped it over.

A thin blue satin box laid beneath.

He stared at it. It was the same box he had presented her the bracelet in. Had she been sleeping with it under her pillow all this time? Irrationally sentimental.

He replaced the pillow with more care than necessary.

How could he have known, all those years ago when the Nereids had first come to the palace, that something like this would happen? That the little girl who had shaken upon first introducing herself would someday look at him with unadulterated affection in her eyes instead of terror? He knew many people were drawn to the idea of being at his side. He had power in excess; something many were eager to get a taste of.

But Dynamene had no interest in or need of power. She came from a privileged family, and she led a charmed life. She was sheltered and naïve. Ulterior motives had no place in her pure, simple world. In her mind's eye, she saw him only as a figure of romance. What a sight that must be, he pondered. Trying to imagine himself through the view of an infatuated adolescent girl made his lip curl.

But as misled as her affections might be, they were genuine. She was concerned for him. She wanted to talk to him. She took every chance to catch a glimpse of him. And he had no idea how to respond to it.

No, he was lying to himself. He was already responding in his own way; giving her gifts, entertaining her attempts at conversation, and spending time with her. He was unconsciously encouraging her feelings. But why?

He thought of her wide gray eyes, and how they seemed to hold nothing but love and earnest desire when she stared at him. He'd never seen such a look in anyone else's gaze before. Not for him. It was new, and strange, and all for him. He didn't want her feelings to belong to anyone else. He wanted to matter the most to her. And at the moment, the sun rose and set over him in her eyes.

But things couldn't continue the way they were, in this strange limbo. What would her family do? After this disaster, there was no way they would approve of her staying at his palace. At least, not her sisters. Her parents might be another story. If he gave them his word that he would not harm her... Well, how could they refuse him, anyway? Dynamene already more-or-less belonged to him. The moment her parents had released her to his custody, she had become his. Any show of her still belonging to her parents' house was superficial. They had no power to go against his desires. He was Poseidon, one of the most powerful of Olympus. They were inconsequential in comparison.

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, he felt a faint hum of power coming from somewhere else in the room. His eyes narrowed. The sensation was faint, but insistent - it could only belong to that of an Olympian. There was something in this room that had been imbued with power by an Olympian other than himself.

He quickly honed in on the source; the tall dresser directly across from her bed. He strode to it rapidly and pulled out the bottom drawer.

Tucked in a heap of fabric was a golden pomegranate, faintly glowing with godly power. He grit his teeth, immediately recognizing the power's signature as belonging to Hera. What was an item imbued with Hera's power doing in Dynamene's room? He lifted it with one hand, examining it thoroughly. It appeared to be a blessing of some sort; she must have given it to Dynamene during her recent visit.

He swallowed hard, anger rising once again. If she had anything to do with Dynamene's disappearance, she would find herself meeting the same end as their worthless brother, relations with Zeus be damned. The pomegranate formed a faint crack on its gilded surface; he was squeezing it too tightly in his rage. He replaced it back in the dresser for now. Dynamene had chosen to keep it hidden for some reason, but why, he had no idea. Only Hera was able to answer the questions he had now, but he couldn't leave for Olympus when Dynamene was still missing. Finding her took priority; interrogations could wait until later.

Besides, he was no idiot. Why would Hera have given Dynamene, who was so enamored with him, a blessing, if not to push her into a relationship with him somehow?

He pushed his anger to the back of his mind for now. He had to find Dynamene first. He would sate his wrath later.

Pulling himself back together, he left her room. He had to return to the beach. If need be, he was going to search the whole ocean himself.

—

Author’s Notes: Poseidon is such a strange guy.

You know, I was thinking... If he was perfect and completely steadfast in his beliefs, would Sasaki's taunts have gotten to him? Naw. Poseidon is just a superpowered man chasing perfection, and unable to live up to his own ideals. That's a little tragic. Of course, doesn't make him any less messed up. But determination is sexy. I wonder where those ideals came from anyway, that gods should be perfect and this and that? None of the other gods around him his whole life were perfect. Maybe just an excuse for his own superiority complex? Or is he a deeply insecure individual deep down? Gahhhh the world will never know.

[spinaea-archived]

trigger warnings for death, parent death, gore, cannibalism, & blood mentions.

it had finally come, the moment rosaria had been dreading for centuries.  mina had tried to prepare her for it as best she could, but it was a promise rosaria was hesitant to fulfill nonetheless.  she knew what it meant  —  the cost of one life to prolong her own, yet she couldn’t bring herself to break the covenant between herself & her sire, not when she’d made it so long ago after she’d been turned.  the brunette who had gifted her this new life had lived thousands of years, having seen the archon war firsthand, even other significant events in teyvat’s history.  such immense knowledge & so many experiences but mina decided it was time  —  time for someone she trusted, her progeny, to take her power & become a pureblood instead of someone else taking it from her.

rosaria had been in her apartment when she’d received the letter from mina, having found it on the floor beside her door.  it was simple but straight to the point: it’s time.  —  m

mina told her long ago where she wanted it to happen, at the highest point of starsnatch cliff while overlooking the sea.  the abyssal remembered & gathered some of her things, anticipating not returning to the city for some time after what she was about to do.  she moved swiftly in the evening, the full moon high in the sky when she arrived there, seeing an all too familiar face she hadn’t seen in twenty years.

‘ i was afraid you weren’t going to make it, ‘  the other woman spoke, sitting on the edge of the cliff & glancing over her shoulder with a smile at her progeny.  ‘ it’s a beautiful night, isn’t it? ‘

‘ i made a promise, didn’t i? ‘  rosaria set down her bag, trying her best to hide the sorrow & impending heartbreak she’s already feeling as she sat down beside her sire.  ‘ it is a beautiful night… but it’s not too late to change your mind. ‘

a chuckle escaped the brunette at that.  ‘ rose, i know you better than anyone but you can’t talk me out of it no matter how hard you try. ‘

ah, there it was.  her name that she hadn’t been called in years, reserved only for the more serious moments with mina.  it had been worth a shot yet again, even if she’d failed to convince her countless times before over the centuries.

the nun sighed, rolling up her sleeves & removing her gloves.  ‘ then you know i’m going to keep trying until the end, mina.  how can you expect me to go through with this so easily when you’ve been my family for so long? ‘  

mina’s smile faltered, but only for a second when she’d turned to face rosaria.  ‘ i never thought it would be easy.  i know how much it will hurt you, but i do not trust anyone else with this power.  if you take it, i know it will be in good hands & will keep you safe in the future. ‘

rosaria never backed down from anything before, but it broke her heart knowing she’s about to lose another mother; this time by her own hand.  her gaze moved from her sire to the sea, watching how the moonlight danced upon the gentle waves.  there was no changing her mind & she knew that now; all the vampire could do was share these last few moments with her maker.  ‘ i know something is coming, but i only know so much about what will happen after i do this… ‘

elder abyssal gave her daughter a sad smile, reaching for her own bag she’d brought with her to give to rosaria & setting it behind her.  ‘ i have written down everything you need to know: the changes you’ll experience, what you’ll inherit, the names of other abyssals who will acknowledge you as a pureblood after this  —  all of it. ‘  a small pat to the worn, leather bag.  ‘ i have the key to my place in liyue in there.  all the things in my home…  i want you to have them, rose.  you can stay there while you acclimate to your new status & not have to worry about anyone being around you. ‘

she truly had prepared for this & it only made rosaria more grateful for her, even as crimson tears welled in her eyes.  the kron had only cried one other time in her vampire life but this would be the second, at yet another time of loss of someone dear to her.  ‘ taking care of me yet again.  what will i do without you? ‘

mina lifted her hands to rest on rosaria’s shoulders, giving a gentle squeeze.  ‘ i wasn’t going to leave you without any idea of what to do, but you’ll live on.  you’ll see hundreds, if not thousands of years like i have.  maybe one day you’ll choose to have a progeny & share this gift with them like i had with you. ‘  with one last smile, the brunette wrapped her arms around rosaria & hugged her.  ‘ we’ll meet again someday, rose.  you’re stronger than you think & i’ve always been proud to call you my daughter. ‘

rosaria returned the hug, bloody tears falling freely down her face.  ‘ thank you for this life, mother. ‘  

not a moment had passed when one arm came free, clawed hand moving at lightning speed when it tore into mina’s chest & ripped out her still beating heart.  ‘ i’m sorry… ‘  was all rosaria could say as she broke down sobbing, unable to look at her dying sire when she bit into her heart.  this was how it had to be, how she’d acquire her power, & she hated it.

her sire’s body slowly turned into ash as the vampire devoured her heart, ichor dripping down her chin & hands while the wind blew away her remains.  rosaria had to do it quickly or she feared not being able to do it at all.  minutes felt like hours before she finished, feeling a surge of power spreading throughout her body as she was finally becoming a pureblood.  a glance at the clothes left in front of her, even the blood on her hands was enough to make her unleash an otherworldly scream into the night that echoed along the coast.  the last thing she saw was the moon before she passed out.

the new pureblood woke hours later as the sun began to rise, feeling energized like never before.  luckily no one & nothing had come to investigate the source of that scream, so she quickly changed out of her bloody clothes, cleaned herself up, & grabbed her bags when a small mirror fell out of the bag mina had left with her.  rosaria picked it up & was stunned by her reflection; she no longer looked so pale & her eyes… they were purple once more with the telltale khaenri’ahn stars visible for the first time in centuries.  the vampire never thought she’d see them again, much less look more like her human self.

it brought a smile to her lips as she tucked the reflective surface away, taking one last look at the sun coming up over the horizon, at the spot where her sire passed away.

‘ until we meet again.  thank you, mina. ‘

[fantasyoverreality98]

Prince of Shadow

Pairing: Aerin x F! MC

Summary: Aerin reflects on why he chose a path of darkness and receives a visit while imprisoned in the dungeons.

Author’s Note: I’m back at it again with the clownery! Can’t help myself but write about some villains. I will not rest until I get redemption arcs. Anyway, this takes place after the finale of Blades Book 1, and the only warning I have is that it is angst and contains talk of abuse. Thank you to anyone who takes the time to read it, I really appreciate you.

Word Count: 2,671

-----

Water splashed against the hard stone, the sound echoing in the silent dungeon.

Prince Aerin Valleros sat in the corner, listening to the scurrying rats on the other side of his cell. One ventured closer and withdrew when it felt the dark energy radiating off him. His lips curved up in a smile as he watched the creature disappear into the shadows.

With a sigh, Aerin cast his gaze to the cell door.

“What are you looking at, prince?” the guard sneered.

The prince shook his head and looked away. Two weeks had passed since he woke up in this cell. Only once had his father bothered to visit; first to beg that his precious son come back to him, and then to curse him for killing Baldur. As if his father had ever cared about him.

No, he had never felt loved by his family.

They were weak. Pathetic. Worthless.

All his life, Aerin had been abused by his brother, while his father stood by and watched. Life as a prince meant nothing when he spent every moment wishing that someone, anyone would care for him. Love him.

He’d thought he may have found that in the adventurer. Raine had convinced him that she cared. But like everyone else, she had deceived him and let him down.

And now you are alone.

Foolishly, he briefly allowed himself to believe that she would visit him in the dungeons. Perhaps those feelings were mutual.

But she had never appeared.

“Have you heard word from my father?” Aerin asked, tired of spending his days wondering what came next.

The guard took a moment to respond, and even then, refused to look at the prince. “No. King Arlan has been trying to—”

“And just what do you think you’re doing? Our orders were to watch Prince Aerin. Not engage in a conversation with him.” Another guard sauntered up to the cell, sneering when he glanced at Aerin. “Ignore this traitor.”

Someday, he would make that guard pay for all the mistreatment he had faced in this cell.

Footsteps filled the air, and for a brief moment, hope flared in Aerin’s chest. The excitement vanished when he saw that it was simply another guard. Of course it wasn’t Raine. He was foolish to believe even for a moment it might be.

“But why, Aerin? Why would you do this?”

“What life did I have before? Forever trapped in the shadow of my fool of a brother, doomed to a life of pathetic obscurity? Bullied. Doubted. Mocked. I hated it here. My only reprieve was in my dreams.”

No one understood how it felt to live life as a constant afterthought. Baldur had spent every possible moment torturing him, making him feel insignificant, while their father stood by and encouraged it.

Aerin may regret some of his decisions now that the Dreadlord had been defeated, but he would never regret ending his brother’s life. Baldur got what he deserved. He had been the truly evil one.

“Have you heard word of the heroes?” Aerin’s voice echoed in the cell, and he tried to mask the desperation he felt.

If Raine would appear, just once, he might allow himself to believe that things could change. Despite all that happened, he still wanted her. He wanted to be with her. If she would have him.

“Who said you could speak?” The guard who had arrived last glanced at him with a look of disgust. “King Arlan has been inconsolable these past two weeks. The crown prince’s death has devastated the kingdom.”

Unable to help himself, Aerin snorted. “Of course.” Bitterness wrapped around his heart once more. “Poor, poor Baldur.”

Pain burned throughout his body, the Nerada Stone still fused to his chest. It had grown worse since he awoke here, in this dark cell, his only companions the rats that shrank back in fear whenever they wandered too close.

“How dare you speak his name. You tarnish the good reputation of Morella through your very existence.”

Those words may have hurt once, but Aerin no longer cared. Morella was not a great kingdom. Humans, elves, orcs, they were all weak. Any goodness that may have remained had long been corrupted, and the world didn’t need his help for that to happen.

“Please, do tell me more of how much of a traitor I am.” He was growing tired of this daily routine. It seemed many of the guards felt it necessary to remind Aerin of his sins, as if he wasn’t already aware.

The guards ignored him, chatting amongst themselves while Aerin stared at the wall across from him. It was damp, water gliding down the stones, staining them a dark gray. Outside, the sounds of life raged on.

This was the way things had always been. For as long as he could remember, he had been cast aside. Forgotten. Treated like a foolish child. No one pitied the younger prince.

Resentment bloomed inside his chest.

“Some of the heroes left, but others remain.” The whisper was so low, he believe he may have imagined it.

Aerin looked up, locking eyes with the one guard who often gave him snippets of information. To his surprise, the guard gave him a smile, even if it was a weak one.

Perhaps kindness wasn’t completely lost in this cursed world.

“Do you know who remains?” he whispered back, directing his attention on the two other guards, who were engaged in what appeared to be a heated discussion.

The guard glanced at his companions briefly before turning back to Aerin. “The two siblings, I believe. And the priestess.”

The two siblings. Those were the only three words he needed to hear.

Raine was still here. She had not yet left. Maybe—

“Alright, let’s go! I doubt the little prince can do much anyway. Someone can stand guard nearby.” The rudest of the men walked past the cell, pounding a fist against the bars before he disappeared from sight.

Not much later, the other two followed, leaving Aerin in silence once more.

Tears started to well in his eyes, and he wiped them before they could fall. Crying wouldn’t fix anything. He had failed. The Shadow Court was in pieces. Now, he would spend the rest of whatever life he may have left trapped in this cell.

Alone. Hated. Abandoned.

Memories of his first encounter with Raine and her friends in the Deadwood haunted him. He remembered their first kiss. In those fleeting moments, he had allowed himself to believe that people might value him more than Baldur. For the first time in his life, he had been shown kindness.

---

Everything about the situation felt like magic. The air came alive, and Aerin could forget for a moment about the pain that burned throughout his body when Raine looked at him.

She gave his hands a tight squeeze, shifting closer until her lips brushed against his.

Wow. He was sure he said something without realizing it, a flicker of joy igniting deep within as she kissed him again. Aerin never wanted it to end.

When Raine said that she was glad they understood each other, even more hope worked its way into his heart. Perhaps he was not as alone as he had thought. Perhaps someone truly could understand him. The thoughts stayed with him until they parted ways. Then, the pain returned.

Do not forget the objective. The words hissed inside his mind, and he glanced back at Raine’s tent, narrowing his eyes.

How was it that this young woman could cast doubt on him?

“Growing quite fond of the peasant, are you, pipsqueak?” Baldur’s voice induced rage that Aerin had to try his best to ignore. “Can’t say it surprises me. Of course you would associate with those scum.”

Aerin tried to walk away, but Baldur grabbed him by the back of his tunic and yanked him backward.

“When your future king speaks to you, you are expected to answer. Or shall we visit the good old days, brother?” Baldur stared into his eyes, malice reflected in them.

One day, Aerin would make Baldur pay. But today was not that day.

He tried not to retaliate when his brother shoved him so hard, he fell to the ground. Ever since childhood, things had always been this way. And no one cared.

No one cared that the younger prince was bullied by the crown prince. King Arlan even encouraged Baldur at times, brushing the abuse off as child’s play. No one could see him for what he truly was. A coward. An imbecile. A fool.

“They saved our lives,” Aerin said, brushing the dirt off his tunic as he rose to his feet. “How else should I treat them?”

Baldur started to approach, his face twisted into a sneer. “Just you wait until we return home. I—”

“Is there a problem here?”

Both princes turned their heads in the direction of the voice. The orc watched them, a scowl on her face when she looked at Baldur.

“N-no—” His brother fumbled over his words, his eyes wide.

Aerin hid a smirk when Baldur scurried away, the terror giving him amusement. “Thank you,” he said to Imtura, who grunted in response and focused her attention elsewhere.

Once he was alone, the smile dropped, and he leaned against a tree, trying to steady his breathing. The Stone fused to his chest caused constant pain. No matter how hard he tried to ignore it, it would not go away.

But it was a price he was willing to pay to become the King of Shadow.

The Dreadlord was his one friend. Before this, Aerin had no purpose. He’d been little more than his older brother’s punching bag, forever ignored by the rest of the court.

Soon enough, he would have all he needed. The shards would help him to return the Shadow Court to glory. Finally, people would bow to him. He would no longer live in his brother’s shadow, forced to endure endless torment and abuse.

His time was coming.

---

The people above ground continued going on with their lives while Aerin sat in darkness.

Time lost all meaning in the dungeons. Sunlight could no longer reach him here.

“You have a visitor.”

Aerin looked up at the sound of the guard’s voice, trying to conceal the surprise he felt at that statement. “Who?”

Without answering the question, the guard craned his neck back and called out down the dark hallway. “He’s ready to see you!”

“What? You didn’t answer my question! I—” Aerin paused mid-sentence when a familiar figure emerged from the shadows, her lips set in a hard line. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling, speaking her name in a breathy tone. “Raine.”

Her hair was in its usual low bun, parted down the middle. The last signs of her injuries from the fight were fading, the bruises just visible in the dim lighting.

“Aerin.” For a moment, emotion flickered across her face, but she composed herself so fast he may have imagined it. “How are you?”

He grinned, looking around the cell. “Well, I’m alive. How are you?”

“Listen, I—” There it was again. The conflict. Raine cleared her throat, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “It is not too late to change. The Dreadlord is gone. You don’t have to worry about your brother anymore. We—”

“You have five minutes. That is all we can give you.” Aerin focused his attention on the guard, sending him a glare that was enough to make the man retreat. “Ten minutes,” he said as he hurried down the hallway.

As soon as they were alone, he looked at Raine again. “You lied to me. You said you’d still have me, even as I am. And you lied.”

She uncrossed her arms, and the stony expression fell away. “I didn’t lie. Aerin, I do care about you. That moment we shared in the forest was real. But what you were doing was wrong. We couldn’t let you win.”

“You’re just like the rest of them. No one understands me.” He turned away, regretting that he had spent the past two weeks awaiting her visit.

Raine watched him without speaking a word. The water continued to drip onto the stone floor, creating a quiet melody.

“I know that the Aerin I fell for is still in there.”

The words made him inhale sharply, and he turned to look at her. Had they crossed paths sooner, perhaps everything would be different.

She made him forget about his terrible childhood, of the abuse he’d faced at the hands of Baldur. Only Raine had shown him true affection. She almost made him want to believe in the Light. That things could get better, if only he had the courage to fight off the fragments of corruption and evil that were intertwined with his soul.

“That Aerin wasn’t real. I stopped believing in the goodness of the world a long time ago.” He wanted her to leave. To let him live out what little time he had left in silence.

Raine stepped closer, wrapping her hands around the cell bars. “Your father sent me here to try and talk some sense into you. He told me that none of what happened was your fault, that the Onyx Shard—”

“Do you have any idea how it felt to spend my entire childhood beaten by my brother as my father stood by and did nothing?” Aerin refused to look her in the eye. “All I ever dreamt about was having someone who loved me. I found that in the Dreadlord. He promised me power. He told me that I would no longer be weak, that I could find a family who cared about me when the people of Morella did not. How could you possibly understand how that feels?”

“I—” Raine shook her head, chewing on her bottom lip as she searched for the words to say. She remained just outside the cell, watching him. After some time had passed, she opened her mouth to answer. “I don’t understand how that feels, you’re right. But you’re wrong when you say no one loves you. Or that the Shadow Court was a family that cared about you. I’m here to help you. You don’t have to live in fear anymore.”

They both tensed when footsteps pounded on the stone toward them. Raine turned to look, frowning as the guard approached.

He spared Aerin a quick glance before returning his attention to Raine. “Time’s up. Let’s get you out of here.”

“Wait! Just—hey!” The guard grabbed her by the arm and started to drag her away, but she elbowed him in the side, flinging herself against the cell door. “Aerin, I believe in you, okay? I know that—”

The guard grabbed her again, and she once more fought him off.

“I’ll come back to see you again. You aren’t alone. I—”

This time, the guard grabbed her around the waist and heaved her back. Raine tried to fight him some more, but he called for backup. Together, three guards dragged her away from the cell, all the while she continued to yell promises.

“I’ll return!” Her final words echoed throughout the dungeon, followed by the sounds of a struggle as the guards carried her off.

Once silence rushed back in, Aerin struggled to his feet, crossing the cell to the door. He peeked outside, unsurprised to see the dungeon empty. If he listened close enough, he thought he might hear the sounds of a continuing fight overhead.

You aren’t alone.

It was too good to be true. Part of him didn’t believe her words. And yet, he wanted to take consolation in that statement. Perhaps Raine really did mean it when she said she cared.

Aerin shook his head and started to laugh. His laughter rang out in the cell, and for the first time in years, he felt hopeful.

[halothenthehorns]

The Leaky Cauldron

James didn't know where to begin, or what to say. What do you tell your best friend who just found out he would be sent to prison, a literal hell hole, for a crime no one would ever believe he committed. Of all the cruel, unjust things they'd seen in the future so far, this almost rivalled what happened to himself and Lily. He was almost afraid to keep going now, what other horrors would he learn?

Remus was the first to speak up after a very long, drawn out pause, as he said, "Ah, so, what's your deal with Fudge?"

Sirius shook his head from side to side as he sighed, "you're going to think I'm crazy."

"We already think that," Lily stated, giving him her best smile as she continued, "in the best way of course."

Sirius gave an unamused snort, but told them anyways. "Just thinking, I don't like that Fudge was the one to show up to make sure Harry was okay, not days after my supposed escape," here his face twisted off in that same fit of unease he now always felt at the mention of his fate. Quickly shaking that off he pressed on, "me, a supposed Voldemort supporter, according to the general populace. Now, who more than anyone would want to go after Harry?" He finished rhetorically, noting the light the rest of them gained at once.

"You think Fudge thinks you're after Harry?" James said, going a little cross eyed at his own question.

Sirius just shrugged, with his arms still crossed on his chest, glaring moodily down at the book. "Honestly, I'm with Harry, can't think of to many reasons the Minister himself would make an appearance, and be so relieved to find him alive, and be happy about him not going into Hogsmeade."

"I see your point," Remus nodded, "but why is it bothering you so much?" Sirius seemed to be taking this as offensive as if someone had just told him he was going to be a mass murderer.

"Excuse you?" Sirius spluttered. "How would you like it if I turned to you and said, hey, someday soon people are going to think you want Harry dead, let alone being the one to kill him."

Remus flinched back at all of the repressed venom Sirius was showing, but not angry one bit. He nodded in acceptance and apologized.

Sirius backed off at once, but he still looked a mixture of peeved, confused and hurt all the same. James exchanged a look with Lily, then said, "time to play musical chairs you two."

Harry, surprised, got to his feet and followed his mother over to the two seater couch Remus and Sirius had just vacated, placing Sirius in the middle of James and Remus. Harry thought he understood why once James leaned his weight imperceptibly into his best friends. Harry very dearly wanted to offer comfort as well, but recognized he could do no more than give false reassurances like his mother that everything was going to be okay. What Sirius needed now was both Remus keeping him in check, and James support.

It hardly fixed the main problem with him, but they really couldn't think of anything else to say on the matter. No one here could think of much else about how wronged Sirius had been, but there was no way to fix it until they found out exactly what happened. Sirius very dearly wanted the exact opposite of Harry finding these things out, but there wasn't much he could do to stop it. The very idea that Harry would be the one who found out what a horrible murderer he would apparently become made him want to burst into tears, it wasn't fair that he might finally have a chance in this future to get to know the baby he loved so much now, and it would be forever tainted with Harry possibly fearing and hating him.

Yet Harry insisted he must have met Sirius at some point, and he had no ill feelings towards him now, but was he trying to lie and sugar coat it? He didn't ask, unable to decide which answer would be worse.

Looking quite pleased with himself now that he could keep a better eye on Sirius, James took up the book and read.

Harry didn't know quite what to do with all of his free time now. He'd never been allowed before to go wherever whenever.

"That would make any kid your age all kinds of happy," Lily agreed.

He kept his promise to Fudge and kept to Diagon Alley, but it was such an interesting place that wasn't a hard chore. He spent every morning inside the Leaky Cauldron just watching all of the customers interact, witches and wizards comparing their buys of the day, fascinating creatures who blended in, and at one point Harry was quite sure a hag eating raw meat.

"I've sat around there a fair few times just to people watch," Remus agreed, wondering how on earth they could even keep going in such a normal tone after the bombshell that they'd received.

He then reflected it wasn't any odder than the whole situation of reading a book about the future.

Lily was just pleased the whole place wasn't storming Harry again. She supposed he'd blend in better without Hagrid, and said gamekeeper shouting his name.

After that he'd hit the streets, wandering up and down all of the shops and doing more people watching, where the customers were either talking prices, or

James grimaced almost as bad as if he'd had to say mudblood again. If someone had told him at the start of this book Sirius would turn out to be alive, he would have skipped around dancing with joy no matter what the reason, now that he did have his reason he wanted to vomit and scream all over again at the unfairness of it all. He declined against saying this aloud though, worried it would make Sirius feel all the worse, considering how much he flinched at his own name as well as he continued.

talking of Sirius Black, where one mother swore she wouldn't let her children out of the house until he was put away again.

Remus gave a weak, unamused chuckle, picturing some random person actually being afraid of a boy who had once cried all day because Remus had once accidentally turned his hair green, and it had taken a few seconds to correct the colour changing spell and put it right. Sirius had then given an exaggerated hurt expression all day about how Remus had 'shown how he really felt about sharing a house with him.' It was beyond ludicrous that a single person would really think so ill of one of his closest friends.

Harry was now free to do his homework where he chose as well, and favoured doing it in the local ice cream shop where the owner, Florean Fortescue, was very knowledgeable about his essay and was prone to giving Harry free icecream.

"Dang," James grinned, "now how come I never got that treatment."

"Because you would have eaten him out of house and home before the first hour was up," Lily replied at once.

It became a real chore for Harry once he did visit Gringotts not to go out and empty his whole vault.

"Well here's to self-control," Remus smirked.

He found himself wanting nearly everything he came across, including a lifelike model of the galaxy, which would have allowed him to quit his Astronomy class.

"Don't be silly Harry," Lily chided, "you'd still have to take the class, you'd just have an easier time on your homework. Honestly, I wouldn't even be bothered if you'd bought something like that for school."

Then Harry told her the price, and she did a double take before nodding seriously and saying, "okay, good thing you didn't buy it then."

The worst temptation came about in his favourite store, Quality Quidditch Supplies.

James' voice immediately spiked with glee, this could only mean something good. Remus leaned in eagerly as well, and Sirius finally looked almost normal again. What better way to distract him from something so horrible then his favourite sport.

He had to squeeze himself inside the shop to find a new model broom on display.

"Sweet," Sirius cried, almost bouncing in place as his eyes lit up like a child, "a new broom! I thought the new Nimbus sounded fantastic, this must be even better!"

"What are all the models anyways?" Harry asked. Yes he'd had an in depth discussion with Ron about this, but he was enjoying watching the three boys acting like their high-strung selves again, and actually wanted to delay the reading for a bit.

James looked ready to jump in and try to describe the brooms in high detail, when Lily butted in saying, "relevant information James," in a singsong voice.

James froze, and glanced over at her with a very hurt look on his face. "I find this very relevant!"

"Yes well I found the reason Astronomy is important to be very relevant," she snipped back.

James frowned, clearly struggling to remember when this had come up, then he offered, "okay, I get to tell Harry about this, then you can tell him about the importance of tracking stars."

Lily grinned and agreed, then James quickly launched into his explanation first. After a lively discussion of nearly every make and model, Lily almost regretted giving in to James, she found it so boring at one point she slipped out of the room to go in and check on baby Harry. James seemed to be winding down by the time she had reentered.

Once he was done, Sirius said in a suffering voice, "alright, so why are we forced to take Astronomy for five years?"

Lily replied with a bit of an impish smirk, "I would like to remind you all, in the very first chapter that 'odd' watch it mentioned Dumbledore owned. All of you knew how to read and understand that because you learned Astronomy."

"So we can read a fancy watch," James dismissed, "we do own analogue watches. We only use those more for traditional reasons now. Got anything else?"

"It's also very important in potion making," Lily continued as if James hadn't spoken. "It doesn't do a Potioner any good to have to sit around and take hours to figure out the position of the planets, which are important in many advanced potions. You need to be able to know and understand this in a very particular frame of time, so if you want a career in Potions you must keep up with Astronomy."

Harry nodded, very curious about this indeed, but it was clear the other three boys were getting rather bored with this conversation. Lily considered going on anyways, just for a bit of payback at James boring her stupid with his broom talk, but lamented that you really couldn't force knowledge, so she agreed to allow the reading to continue.

The shop owner was explaining to the crowd that this model was going to be the broom of choice for the Irish International team, and they were favoured to win the World Cup.

"Really?" Remus butted in eagerly. "They've gone up in the rankings."

"Just tell me what it is already," Sirius demanded, nearly bouncing in place in anticipation.

Harry finally found a break in the crowd enough to read the title on a little plaque, The Firebolt.

"It's a new model all together," James breathed, nearly drooling as he could only picture it, not having a previous model to go off of.

"Well read the sign already," Sirius all but begged, looking near to snatching the book away just to read it himself.

There was a sign underneath detailing every inch of the broom's top of the line standards.

The boys spent just as long interrogating Harry on every detail he remembered of this broom, and Lily simply sat back and watched indulgently for a few minutes before cutting in again and trying to convince them to move on. James huffed and grumbled for a bit, but finally accepted.

The price wasn't even listed though, and Harry reflected it would do him no good to empty his school vault for a new broom when he still had a perfectly good one on him.

Lily beamed with pride as she said, "I'm so proud of you. I can't imagine many boys your age, or older," she cut herself off to give an obvious look at the other three boys, "would take the time to consider that."

Harry blushed a bit at the praise, thanking his Mum. After a pause, the boys finally admitted they were happy Harry didn't buy the broom either, thinking in rational sense of course. It didn't stop them from wanting it any less either.

This didn't stop Harry from coming back every day just to look at it though.

Sirius nodded like this made absolutely perfect sense to him, making Harry laugh anew.

He did have some things he was required to buy though, like new school robes which were getting several inches too short.

"How come they don't have some kind of place in school to fix that," Harry asked, this having bothered him several times towards the end of the school year. "Honestly, how come they don't have any way to fix your clothes, I've ripped the hem of my trousers several times and just had to ignore it till summer." He was also thinking of a few other times, like the basilisk biting his arm and leaving a sizable gap in that sleeve as well for the last few weeks of school.

Sirius looked perfectly back to normal after the nice long Quidditch distraction and explained for Harry, "the house-elves have been known to take care of the worst of them, like for instance the time Peter got a hole ripped on his backside, long story," he added on when Harry looked about asking for details. "They also put some kind of charm, I think, on them when they go in the wash so that they don't need them every bloody time you have to deal with Herbology. Dirt repelling charms, and maybe they strengthen the material or something, I've never stopped to ask to be honest."*

Harry reflected that he'd never really thought about it, as the Gryffindor boys had a laundry chute that just seemed to magically clean their clothes and shoot them back out perfectly folded, but it did make sense.

There were also his new textbooks for both his old classes, and his new ones Care of Magical Creatures, and Divination.

"Well, at least you did get your stuff," James muttered, mostly to himself as he remembered worrying about this, and trying to push away the impending feeling that they would just have to rehash that same conversation at the beginning of next book since Harry would still have to go back there! He grit his teeth for a moment before forcing himself to go on in that same light tone as before, not willing to let his good mood be spoiled again so soon.

Harry did get a surprise though, when he went to the bookshop and saw a window display of the Monster Book of Monsters.

"Oh," they brightened in understanding at Hagrid sending Harry that book.

Remus stated, "guess that makes sense then, Hagrid would have sent you a textbook for one of your new classes."

"That's not what Kettleburn set us though," Sirius pointed out, "so why the change?"

"You don't think there's a new teacher?" Lily asked in concern, never having taken the class herself, but curious all the same.

"Wouldn't surprise me," James shrugged, "he would be how old now? With two limbs missing? In fact, you remember Hagrid's letter, he was going to tell Harry something, like a surprise? Guess this might have been it. Of course Hagrid would get chummy with a new Care of Magical Creatures teacher."

"Great, so we're going to have to deal with three new teachers this year," Sirius rolled his eyes, "I can only hope they're at least competent. Harry hasn't exactly had a good track record so far."

"You can say that again," Harry agreed, wondering why this year in particular made him feel like correcting Sirius on this. Had he finally gotten a decent teacher, at least for DADA?

They weren't happy about it though, as they were locked in a giant cage tearing each other's pages out.

Sirius released a surprised snort of laughter, picturing books fighting having never come to mind.

Harry looked at his book list for the first time and saw the book listed as the one he'd need for Care of Magical Creatures, and couldn't help almost sagging in relief. He'd been having horrible ideas about Hagrid perhaps wanting help with a new animal.

"Oh don't," Lily shuddered in true terror, "I don't want to have to deal with anymore of Hagrid's pets."

"Well I seemed to be wrong," Harry soothed.

Harry went inside, and the moment the store owner laid eyes on him, he demanded to know if Harry was from Hogwarts, and when he said he was, the man pushed Harry out of the way,

"Well that was rude," Remus frowned.

"What's his problem," Sirius agreed huffily.

going for a thick set of gloves and making his way towards the cage of biting books.

"What a jerk," James agreed with a frown. "Harry might not have needed that book even if he did already have it. Care of Magical creatures isn't mandatory for Hogwarts."

Harry stopped him though, telling that he already had that book. The man couldn't have looked any more relieved if he wanted to, saying he'd already had to deal with five paper cuts this morning.

Lily winced in sympathy, but didn't bother to say anything out loud this time. He really had been presumptuous in his actions.

From inside the cage came another tearing sound, coming from two of the books having pinned down a third and tearing its back off.

"Hope you'd at least get a discount on that book," Sirius laughed.

The owner shoved a cane inside and forced them all apart, complaining of what a nightmare they were to have around. It was worse than the time he'd bought a shipment of Invisibility books, and never found a single one of them.

"Ah," Lily said in confusion, "I don't get it, they didn't use the counterspell to make the books visible or...?"

"Don't know," Harry shrugged, "didn't ask for details."

Harry showed him the list of books he did need though, one of which was Unfogging the Future. He led Harry over to the Divination section of the store, and Harry read the back of the book which detailed what he would learn, including palmistry and bird entrails.

"Bird entrails?" James repeated in disgust.

"Well it sounds like an interesting class at least," Remus chuckled.

Harry's attention was off guard though, when he spotted another book labelled Death Omens. The owner looked where Harry was, and told Harry that wasn't a good book to be reading, he'd start being paranoid about death being everywhere.

"Should he really be telling someone not to buy a book from him?" Sirius laughed.

"Well I appreciate it," Lily shrugged, noting Harry seemed to have a pessimistic side enough as is, he didn't need that extra help.

Harry was still watching though, as the front cover was of a very large black dog,

"I'm not that big," Sirius scoffed, growing uneasy all over again at any kind of mention of him, even his animal.

Harry gave him a pitying look, declining to mention that his own imagination might have made that black dog in the alley way bigger than it might have really been.

remarkably close to the one he'd seen that night in the alley. The shop owner really did distract him by escorting Harry around to gather the rest of his books, but he was distracted as he left the shop and accidentally smacked into a few people on his way back to the Leaky Cauldron.

Now all four of them were frowning, each taking a worried glance at Harry. He was still frowning at Sirius, a perturbed look on his face. Finally Sirius couldn't take it anymore and said, "you're starting to scare me there Harry, what's on your mind."

Harry jolted slightly, Sirius didn't usually refer to him by his actual name, but he gave him a benign smile as he admitted, "guess I just didn't realize your animagus form was a death omen, and you know, not knowing then..."

Remus released a surprised snort of laughter, admitting, "yeah, it honestly did surprise us a bit too when he first achieved his transformation, Peter's a bit superstitious and actually called him a Grim."

James gave a surprised laugh himself, nodding and saying, "we were actually going to use that as his nickname, we kicked around a few things before we settled on what we've got."

"I can see how it would freak you out a bit," Lily nodded in agreement.

He dumped all of his stuff to the side and sat down heavily on his bed, thinking about how he'd seen that dog not moments before his head had nearly been crushed under the wheels of a bus. Aloud, he told himself it hadn't been a death omen,

Sirius winced, and began ducking into himself, wanting to apologize for clearly frightening Harry so much, since by this point they really were convinced that must have been Sirius, the coincidence was just too high. Before he could let himself feel too much pity though, James absently gave him a nudge with his elbow, and Remus flicked his ear. Sirius was instantly distracted from his thoughts and instead was playfully grumbling about how his friends abused him.

saying he was just overthinking about that stray dog he'd seen.

"Now that I'll disagree with," James said lightly, still keeping a protective eye over Sirius to make sure he wasn't going to sink back into that self-pity again.

Harry nodded in understanding, trying to catch Sirius' eye to give him a confident smile, and succeeding after a moment; receiving one back almost instantly.

Looking into the mirror, he began to try and flatten his hair with nerves.

"Now there's a lost cause," Lily said absently.

The mirror spoke back that Harry was fighting a losing battle with that one.

They all laughed weakly then, but Sirius still wasn't in much of a mood to make the joke Lily had just mimicked a mirror of all things.

As the holiday continued to drag closer to the end, Harry began spotting some of his school friends, like the other Gryffindor boys Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas who stopped to have a chat with him. He also saw Neville Longbottom, but swerved to avoid him,

"Why?" Remus asked. "I thought you liked Neville?"

"Wait for it," Harry told him simply.

as he was currently being told off by his haughty looking grandmother.

"Yeah, no one wants their friend around when they're getting told off," Sirius agreed.

Harry dearly hoped she never found out he'd tried to use Neville's name while on the run.

James released a surprised burst of laughter, personally he would have been flattered, but he could see the other side to that coin.

He woke up on the last day before school started, thinking he had just missed Ron and Hermione in the crowd and he'd see them tomorrow on the train.

"That is a little weird," Lily agreed, coking her head to the side slightly, "they said they were going to be there."

"Haven't you been sending them mail with Hedwig?" Remus asked. "Didn't they know they could find you at the Leaky Cauldron."

Harry shook his head no and said, "I didn't send Hedwig anymore that summer, it was to close to the end of the holidays, and I didn't know if she'd be back in time with an answer before I had to go back to school."

The others disagreed, wanting to point out that Hedwig would have known to go to Hogwarts even if that were the case, but didn't argue the point.

He got up to go and have one last look at the Firebolt,

James read that with nothing but fondness colouring his tone, knowing full well that was something he would have done too.

and was traveling that way when he heard his name being called from behind. He turned and found his two best friends waving over at him.

"Finally," Remus grinned.

"I have missed hearing about them," James agreed affectionately.

Ron was saying how happy he was to find Harry, that they must have just missed him at the Leaky Cauldron,

"Then how did they know you were staying there?" Lily asked.

Harry shrugged and said, "I'm sure I ask him, since I was just wondering the same thing."

and they'd already gone around and got their own shopping done. Harry said he'd already done his as well, then asked how they knew where he was staying. Ron simply put that his Dad knew.

"Makes sense," Sirius shrugged, "he knew about you last summer too, you seem pretty popular in his department."

"I get the feeling everyone inside the Ministry always knows about me," Harry replied, not exactly happy about it.

This didn't surprise Harry, as Arthur Weasley worked for the Ministry and would have knowledge of his Aunt's mishap. Hermione brought up this very subject, asking if Harry had really blown up his aunt in a serious voice.

"Oh yeah, she's never heard me speak, how'd she do an impression of me?" Sirius demanded.

James sniffed, choosing to ignore Sirius on that one, as he told Harry, "Go on, tell her the reason you did, and that stern voice will turn to outrage in a second."

Harry just shrugged without a response, having a good idea he didn't actually do that.

Ron burst into laughter at once at the reminder while Harry lamely explained away he'd just lost control.

The four of them frowned at Harry sharply, not at all pleased this seemed to be the only explanation he was going to give his friends, but Harry was resolutely ignoring all eyes, and they admitted there was no sense badgering him about it now.

Hermione told him off, saying it wasn't supposed to be funny as Harry could have gotten into real trouble for that. Harry agreed he was surprised he didn't, and asked Ron if his Dad had any idea why Fudge hadn't?

Now because of Sirius, they wondered if maybe they had taken too light of the situation before, but none of them said it out loud. Sirius was still looking all kinds of moody any time this subject came up, so James refused to linger on it too long.

Ron just shrugged it off, saying it was because it was the Harry Potter. If he'd pulled something like that, the Ministry would've have his head, but then again they'd have to dig him back up as his Mum would've murdered him.

"I like to think Ron wouldn't be put in that situation any more then Harry, or at least his Mum would have understood," Lily said, mostly to herself it seemed as the boys seemed to find that comment more amusing than anything.

Then Ron told Harry that the lot of the Weasleys, and Hermione, were going to be staying at the Leaky Cauldron that night with Harry, so he could go to the train with them tomorrow.

"Excellent," Harry beamed, more than pleased to hear about this, he'd missed his friends terribly over that summer.

Harry said this was excellent.

Then they all laughed a bit more as Harry blushed slightly at mimicking himself.

Ron changed the subject then by pulling out a long thin box,

"His new wand," Remus grinned.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," James snorted as he read.

showcasing his new wand. He also laughed back about when they'd told that shop owner they'd wanted two of the Monster Book of Monsters, and how the man had nearly cried.

"Poor guy," Lily said in sympathy, wondering why the store hadn't simply found a better method of shutting those books closed with a belt like Harry, and simply selling them that way.

Harry then asked Hermione what all she'd gotten, as she had three bags ripping at the seams with all of her books. Hermione proceeded to list every extra subject Hogwarts had to offer, including Muggle Studies.

"How many classes is she taking?" Sirius asked faintly.

"Why's she taking Muggle Studies?" Remus demanded. "She's a muggle-born?"

"How can she even take all of those classes?" James frowned. "Some of them run at the same time."

Harry didn't have an answer for any of this, but he asked something he'd been wondering for a while, "which classes did you guys take?"

"Arithmancy," James and Lily said at once. 

"I also took Muggle Studies," James added on with a sheepish expression, "I ah, just never paid much attention when, well, Lily didn't seem to think it very impressive when I started talking about electricity, I lost interest by the end of the year and stopped paying it much mind. Dropped it after fifth."

Lily snorted at remembering all that, he was playing up even remembering that much she was sure, it wouldn't surprise her if he'd paid Sirius to do his homework for him when he realized she hadn't been impressed one bit by this. "I took Study of Ancient Runes instead," she told her son aloud. 

"We both took Care of Magical Creatures," Remus said, gesturing towards himself and Sirius, "but I took Arithmancy too."

"Muggle Studies as my second option," Sirius responded, stretching out slightly as he forced himself to relax again at this rather normal conversation, might as well enjoy it while it lasted. "Oh and Peter took Study of Ancient Runes and Arithmancy with James," he added on thoughtfully, thinking Harry would like to know more about their other friend even if he hadn't met him yet.

Harry nodded happily, enjoying the fact he didn't seem to be getting that settling feeling that normally came with relearning things. This meant he'd never learned this about his family before, and he always enjoyed that. These glowing feelings managed to shove out some nasty little pang he suddenly felt at hearing Peter's name. That hadn't come up before this book, why this year in particular would he get a surgence for that name?

Ron demanded to know why his friend was taking Muggle Studies,

Sirius opened his mouth, but Remus quickly said, "yes Sirius, I mimicked Ron, let it go."

Sirius just smirked at him, enjoying the moment anyways.

as she was a Muggle-born. Hermione said that she wanted to see wizards point of view on them, it would be all sorts of interesting.

"Props for that," Lily agreed, never having thought of that point of view before.

"Still wouldn't take the extra class," Remus said in disbelief, thinking this poor girl was going to overwork herself in the first week.

Harry asked her if she'd planned on any time for eating or sleeping, but Hermione ignored them both.

"That's a legitimate question," James said, his own amusement still lingering. He was picturing her come midterms and going to at least two professors to drop one of her extra classes just for a breath of fresh air, no one could keep up with that much!

Instead saying that she had some leftover money and wanted to buy herself a birthday present, and Ron suggested a book. Hermione politely declined,

Sirius snapped his fingers and said, "darn, guess she already realizes she's not going to have much time for free reading this term."

and said that what she did want was an owl.

"Did she talk to her parents about that before though?" Lily asked in concern. "I asked my parents for an owl for years, but they never gave in to that one."

"I think a girl like Hermione, she most likely did," Remus pacified.

Saying that as Harry had Hedwig and Ron had Errol, but Ron corrected that was a family owl, not his.

"And it's kind of recommended they get a new owl to," Sirius agreed, wincing in sympathy for the old bird.

What he did have was Scabbers, his old rat, who was looking quite sickly himself.

"How old is he?" James asked in concern.

"Don't know," Harry shrugged, "Ron's never said specifically."

"Most only live for about five years I think," Lily said, frowning as she thought about it. "Ron said Scabbers used to be Percy's, and that was almost three years ago at this point. Assuming Percy got him very young, he'd still be getting on."

'Poor Ron' they all thought this time, not wanting the poor kid to have to go through the trauma of losing a pet.

Harry led the way to the local Magical Animal shop where both of his friends could attend to their needs, and they walked inside to find a large assortment of every fascinating animal.

"That sounds like all kinds of fun," Lily said in amusement.

"It's one of my favourite shops," Remus agreed.

"Surprised you didn't interrupt me every animal to say what it actually was," James told him.

"I'm not that bad," Remus scoffed, unwilling to admit he'd been mentally doing that anyways, though his friends knew better and exchanged superior smirks like they had when he'd given them an hour long chat about those color changing snails known as streelers.

Ron went up to the counter first while Hermione began browsing the owls, which came in every colour and breed. Ron explained that Scabbers had been acting rather lethargic of late, while Harry was thinking about how Scabbers had once belonged to Ron's older brother Percy, and next to the cage of younger rats, Scabbers looked particularly old.

"Bet he's still better than those," Sirius sniffed, feeling a particular affection for Scabbers, like he would for any rat that reminded him of Peter, and the description was a pretty good fit, not to mention the time he'd bit Goyle. That could never be sullied.

The woman at the counter picked up the rat by his tail, asking how old exactly he was, and Ron didn't know the actual age, just that he'd been around for a while. Scabbers was inspected from his torn ear to one of his missing toes, and noted that most of this species wouldn't live longer than three years.

"Well she's just a lovely conversation," Lily frowned severely, that was hardly something you told a child asking for help with his pet.

"And some can live longer," Remus agreed a little hotly, still feeling bad for Ron and wanting to defend his pet, even if he wasn't there right now.

She offered Ron to buy a replacement, pointing at the cage where the black furred rats were playing an odd game jumping over each other's tails. Ron just muttered that they were showing off.

James chuckled, he'd actually been fixing to say something similar before he read Ron's response.

The woman switched tactics and instead offered Ron some medicine for Scabbers, calling it Rat Tonic. Ron agreed he'd buy that, beginning to ask for the price, when he screamed in pain.

Lily jumped, James had yelled that pretty loud, then scowled at him when she realized he was still reading, "what was that for?"

"Ron said it," he shrugged, giving her a cheeky grin before reading curiously.

Harry was startled to see something very large and dark orange landing on Ron's head, then leaping onto the counter after Scabbers.

"A cat I presume," Remus said mildly, arching a brow in surprise, "though props to it for getting out of its cage."

Sirius popped him lightly, saying, "you really want that thing to eat Scabbers in front of Ron?"

Remus just rolled his eyes as James continued.

The woman screamed for Crookshanks to stop, but Scabbers wasn't waiting around, wriggling out of her hand and bolting from the shop. Harry and Ron tore after him, catching up to him curled up underneath a trashcan. Ron demanded to know what had attacked him, and Harry explained it was either a very large cat, or a very small tiger.

Which made everyone in the room laugh at Harry's attempt at humour.

They made their way back to the shop for Hermione who should have gotten her owl by now, only to find her walking out of the shop with the same cat in her arms.

"Really?" Lily demanded. "She bought the cat that attacked Ron's pet?"

"I'm trying to decide if that's her subtle way of saying Ron annoys her," Sirius smirked.

"Hermione's hardly subtle about anything," Remus snorted.

"I'm kind of with Lily," James frowned in disapproval, "it was almost rude of her to buy something that went out of its way to eat Scabbers like that."

Harry wasn't paying much attention to any of them, but was instead fighting the impulse to rub at his temple again. He'd never thought too much about Scabbers other than as Ron's pet, and he had no real feelings towards Hermione buying whatever cat she wanted, but there was something here he wasn't really seeing. Something important he really should remember about these two pets, James hadn't seemed to notice his son's silence as he continued.

Ron was outraged she'd bought the cat that had tried to eat his rat, and Hermione ignored him by stating that he was a beautiful creature. Harry didn't really agree, its fur was very thick and poofy, its legs a too short for its long body, and it had a squashed face like he'd run face first into a wall.

Both Sirius and Remus released surprised snorts of laughter at that lovely description.

Hermione was cooing to her cat that she hadn't really meant to hurt Ron, but Ron was still arguing that Scabbers didn't need the hassle of a cat around, he needed his peace. Hermione was frowning at him now as she handed over Ron's Rat Tonic, telling how Crookshanks had been in that store for ages as no one had wanted to buy him.

"That's a real mystery," Sirius rolled his eyes.

Lily huffed and gave him the stank eye. Despite her misgivings about Hermione buying that particular cat at that time, she had nothing against the actual animal. It was in its nature after all, and Sirius mocking it just annoyed her.

They went back to the Leaky Cauldron, Ron and Hermione arguing the whole way, Harry phasing it out. When they got inside, he greeted Mr. Weasley at the bar, looking at the front paper where Sirius Black was still on display.

James frowned and grit his teeth for a moment, annoyed at once all the good mood seeping right out of the room at this near constant reminder. He wanted more than anything right now to find out what had really happened to his best friend, but the repeating commentary on him was grinding his gears.

Harry asked if there was any new news on him, but Mr. Weasley said that even though they'd pulled some people off their normal jobs to find him, they'd got nothing yet.

Instead of allowing his mood to sink back down, Sirius said in a forced happy voice, "I think I should get some credit for that at least."

Remus gave him a pointed look that said quite clearly he still didn't find him making light of this situation any kind of funny, but no one told him off for it this time. It was better than him being depressed anyways.

Ron asked if whoever caught him would get a reward,

Sirius opened, then quickly closed his mouth. He had been fixing to ask how much his head was worth, but decided he really didn't want to know the answer to that.

but Mr. Weasley snapped at his son not to go getting any ideas, and Harry noticed he looked a lot more tense than usual.

James voice spiked a bit in confusion upon reading that. What did this have to do with the Weasley's really? Why would it put extra strain on Arthur, or was it something else altogether? Most likely it was the second.

Reminding them that it would most likely be the Azkaban guards who would catch up with him,

Sirius shuddered so hard at those words, he nearly shook the whole couch with him. Those guards were one of the reasons he felt like fainting at the mere thought of where he was fixing to spend the next twelve years of his life in a very short amount of time. He'd been around a Dementor once in his life, and the thought of forcibly being stuck in their presence for any prolonged time made him want to run for the hills without looking back.

James really couldn't take it this time, and wrapped an arm around his friends shoulder for a brief moment until Sirius did stop his shaking again. He waited until Sirius offered a weak, unreal smile, but at least he attempted it, giving James enough confidence to keep reading and pray for a change of subject.

Remus was trying to swallow back bile at seeing his usually energized friend reduced to this state, while Harry dearly wanted to ask who on earth these guards were if they elicited such strong reactions from people he could hardly imagine being afraid of anything. First Hagrid, now Sirius, what on earth happened in this Azkaban? He still didn't ask though, not wanting to be the one to linger on this.

The rest of the Weasley's arrived then, Ginny coming in last and going red in the face upon seeing Harry. She'd always had a bit of a crush on him, and his saving her life last year most likely hadn't changed that.

"Just what I wanted to be reminded of right now," Sirius whispered, thinking about that horrid Chamber the least helpful thing to get his mind off of death and regrets.

Percy spotted Harry as well and marched forward, offering his hand to Harry and welcoming him in the most formal way possible.

James forced as much amusement as he could into this small interaction, perhaps speaking a little louder than was necessary to make sure Sirius got his fill of what he was sure was about to be an amusing moment. Anything with the twins and Percy in the same room almost always meant a laugh.

Fred couldn't let that slide, shoving Percy out of the way and mimicking his brother's actions as pompously as possible,

Then James grinned, looking all too smug at being right, and just as pleased to see a genuine smile come back to his friends face at these twin's antics.

George quickly copying him as well. Percy scowled at both of them.

The boys were outright laughing by this point, and Lily couldn't help but smirk along.

Molly Weasley told them to knock it off, but Fred wasn't done yet, pouncing on his mother's hand and going on about seeing her as well.

Lily shook her head affectionately while this only doubled the boy's amusement.

She really did get them to stop this time, before turning on Harry and giving him a warm welcome before boasting that Percy had made Head Boy, the second of her sons to have done so. Fred muttered he was going to be the last as well.

"Now that's not really fair to Ron," Lily frowned at him.

"I agree," James nodded. He enjoyed being Head Boy in his time, but Percy was being the wrong kind as far as he was concerned. In fact he'd rather enjoy it if Ron got that opportunity, he'd very much noticed the boy's lack of confidence in himself and some responsibility like this might just help him.

Mrs. Weasley wasn't pleased at the slight, pointing out neither of the twins had been made prefects.

"That might be a little awkward," Remus noted, "only one of the twins getting that."

Sirius nodded, agreeing, "yeah, I'd almost feel bad for them."

George scoffed he'd be mad to want such a thing, it would take all the fun out of their life.

"I resemble that comment," Remus smirked.

"I think you meant resent," Lily corrected him, even knowing he had used the wrong word on purpose.

"That to," he laughed.

Ginny laughed at her brothers, and Mrs. Weasley noticed that to, so she snapped at the twins to set a better example for their sister.

While no one else in the room took much notice of this, Harry suddenly looked puzzled. He had a rather distinct feeling Ginny wasn't nearly the sweetheart her mother wanted her to be.

Percy said she had much better brothers to look to for an example, before exiting up the stairs. George confided in Harry they'd tried to lock that brother away in a sarcophagus in Egypt, but their Mum had caught them.

"Rats," Sirius huffed, snapping his fingers in agitation.

Lily gave him the stank eye, even though she knew he didn't mean it anymore then George had.

They all had dinner together that night, and Fred was asking his Dad about how all of them were getting to the train tomorrow?

"I'm getting hungry," Sirius said at once, his mouth watering at the thought of dessert.

"You're always hungry," James reminded him.

Lily ignored the pair, it was still a bit too early for lunch, so instead said, "that's a good question though, since they don't have the Anglia anymore."

Mr. Weasley explained that his job was loaning him a couple of cars,

"Well that was nice," Remus said, rather puzzled.

"Do the Ministry normally do this?" Harry asked at once, noting how confused the others seemed.

"They're not known to," James shrugged, "it's not their business to make sure every one of their workers gets around, but I suppose Arthur might have been able to make an exception for you," he finished, giving Harry an obvious wink. He didn't really find it funny, the reminder of his son's fame was only a thought away from how he'd gained it, but it made sense.

Harry nodded in understanding all the same.

Percy asked why, and George quickly cut in by saying it was all thanks to Percy. They were even going to put flags on the car for him, saying HB, while Fred finished up the joke by stating that it stood for Humongous Bighead.

Which gained a laugh from all present readers.

Everyone except Percy and Mrs. Weasley snorted into their pudding.

"I like the fact that means Arthur laughed as well," Remus grinned.

"Those twins had to get their sense of humour from somewhere," Sirius smirked.

Percy ignored them and repeated his question.

"That boy needs to lighten up," Lily rolled her eyes.

Mr. Weasley did explain that he'd managed to convince the Ministry to do him a favour, but he was going red just like Ron did when he was being pressured.

"Good to note an obvious Weasley tell," James grinned, feeling rather smug he must have guessed right from this.

Mrs. Weasley changed subject to asking if they were all packed, and Percy told his mother how Ron wasn't, he'd put all of his books all over his bed.

"That boy is annoying," Sirius rolled his eyes, "what brother points that out to his parents about his sibling?"

Mrs. Weasley told Ron off for this at once, while Ron gave Percy a dirty look.

"That was a nice reaction," Remus rolled his eyes, thinking of a couple of worse things Ron could have done in retaliation.

When dinner was done, Harry heard a ruckus coming from Percy and Ron's shared room, and he went over to find them both arguing. Percy's Head Boy badge was missing, along with Ron's Rat Tonic, and they were both convinced the other had taken it. Harry said he'd last seen Ron's Tonic at the bar downstairs, but Percy wouldn't let Ron leave until his badge had been found.

"What's Percy's right to tell him that?" Lily demanded hotly. "It's his badge, not Ron's. Ron's not the type to take it for fun."

Harry offered to get Ron's stuff, going back onto the stairs, but coming quickly to a stop when he heard Mr. and Mrs. Weasley arguing.

"Ouch," James winced in sympathy, wondering if this is why Arthur had looked so upset earlier. Were he and Molly having a fight?

Harry would have normally kept walking, not wanting to be caught listening in on this, when he froze at hearing his own name,

That sparked an interest in all of them, wondering how the couple could be arguing about Harry of all people.

so he inched closer to the door.

No one could blame Harry for that one bit, it was the normal reaction after all.

Arthur was saying that he wanted to tell Harry something, that he had every right to know.

"Know what?" Remus asked with unease, not liking the look of this already.

James didn't bother with a response, hoping the book would explain more properly

He'd been arguing with Fudge about this, who'd been insisting on keeping Harry in the dark. Molly shot back that it would horrify him if he knew.

This short little bit already had Lily worrying at her lip all over again, and the boys weren't looking any better. What worse thing could be going on right now?!

Arthur pointed out though it would be for his own good, he and Ron had already been known to end up in the Forbidden Forest twice,

"Technically," Harry butted in, shifting his weight in agitation due to the mood circling around, "I've been in twice, Ron's only been in once."

"So Arthur was generalizing," Sirius huffed, his eyes narrowing, "that doesn't explain what they're so bothered about."

Harry winced at the sharp tone he used, though it clearly wasn't directed at him specifically.

but Harry couldn't do that kind of stuff this year. It was a miracle he'd lived the night he'd run away from home. If the Knight Bus hadn't come and got him, he probably wouldn't have been found at all.

James groaned and looked ready to toss the book away in anger. Why did he keep getting all the chapters that felt like mentioning how his son could die?

Sirius looked the opposite, ready to faint all over again as he vividly remembered how upset Fudge had seemed that night as well. He hardly wanted confirmation that his theory was right, but it seemed he was about to get it anyways.

Molly was insisting that hadn't happened though, so there was no point in telling him, but Arthur argued back that they say Sirius Black is out of his mind!

James' voice spiked all over again, having several testy retorts on his lips for that, but quickly bit them off. It's not like he could blame the Weasleys for thinking this, they didn't know any more about Sirius then Stan had. It just boiled his blood to know anyone thought that way of someone he considered a brother.

Sirius winced and pressed himself back into his seat cushions, wondering just how accurate that accusation was? Azkaban was known to drive people to death if they were there long enough, and his sentence more than met that time.

Remus was getting paler the longer this went on, clenching and unclenching himself up as he, like James, wanted very much to snap at someone for implying this about his friend.

He hadn't met the man to argue the point, but it didn't change the fact that he'd been out for weeks and no one had any leads on him. They only knew one thing, what he wanted.

"Is that right," Lily hissed, her eyes narrowing dangerously, "he's told you this, or is it more guess work and slandering?"

Molly was still insisting it wouldn't matter, Harry would be in no safer place once he was at school, but Arthur argued back that if Black could break out of Azkaban, it would be no problem for him to break into Hogwarts.

Sirius opened, then closed his mouth again. How he had broken out of Azkaban, he had not the slightest clue. The thought had never even occurred to him to figure out how, and he wasn't keen on sitting around pondering it now. However, he did have the fullest confidence that if any student wanted to sneak in and out of that school, he was more than qualified. Everyone here knew this though, and he just couldn't muster up the energy in that moment to say it with as much bragging rights as he normally would have.

Molly tried to pacify that they weren't positive Black was after Harry,

Sirius winced at that nightmare of a sentence all over again, never mind that he himself had suggested it earlier. It hardly made him feel better he was obviously right this time.

James was resolutely ignoring him, wanting to laugh at how stupid that sentence was, and hoping for a clue what his friend really would be doing.

but there was a thunk inside, and Harry had the suspicion Mr. Weasley had smacked his hand onto the table in frustration before explaining that Fudge had told him a secret. He'd been to see Black the night before he'd escaped, and the guards had spoken of Black's nonstop muttering in his sleep, 'he's at Hogwarts.'

Remus wrinkled up his nose in disgust, having to force himself to cut off a mocking laugh at this. Personally, if Sirius really was 'after' Harry, then to him it wasn't even that surprising. Sirius' first thought would be to go to his Godson, make absolutely sure he was okay. It wouldn't even surprise him to learn if Sirius did end up spending the rest of his time hiding around and dogging Harry, waiting for a chance to talk to him and try to explain himself.

Black was crazy,

"Not used to hearing you refer to me by my last name," Sirius said quickly, desperately casting his mind around to distract himself from this depressing topic, even for the shortest amount of time. "It's really weird. I keep thinking you're talking about my Dad or something."

"Half wish I was," James grumbled, turning the page so viciously he almost ripped it out.

and he wanted Harry dead.

James gagged slightly again, but refused to let himself be cut off this time.

Arthur was convinced in fact that Black was under the delusion if he killed Harry, You- Know-Who would return.

Lily's brows shot into her hairline at that, what an odd thing for anyone to think.

Black had lost everything the night You-Know-Who had vanished, and he's spent these past years thinking of nothing but that.

"Well he's got that part right at least," Sirius whispered to himself, casting an almost longing look around this once peaceful scene, and one more towards the ceiling where the baby was. Certainly not in the way Arthur had meant it, but he was more than sure a piece of him died that night this family was torn away from him.

Molly finally gave in, saying that if Arthur felt he had to tell Harry this, then do it. Then she added on that she was still positive Dumbledore wouldn't let anything happen to Harry, adding on he did know of this secret, yes? Arthur agreed that he had been informed, as they'd had to ask him if he'd allow the Azkaban guards to be on the school grounds that year.

Sirius felt another terrible spasm rock him. If he was going to be hanging around Harry this year to try and talk to him, he'd probably be deterred by that!

"You're joking," Remus groaned, going a little green there for a moment.

"Sadly not," James almost growled, finding this to be a horrible idea the longer he thought about it.

"Surely he said no," Lily gasped, "letting those, things, around children!"

Harry couldn't help it anymore, this was such a vivid reaction from them he finally burst out, "who are these guards?"

The four of them exchanged uneasy looks, no one wanting to be the one to answer him.

Finally Remus swallowed back the bile in this throat to answer him. The whole time he talked, Harry was nodding and seemed to be settling down at the information like he always did, but there was something new going on this time. He seemed to be watching Remus with a steady kind of look.

Harry was trying his hardest to simply listen to the awful explanation, but he was having trouble fighting down a sense a Deja vu, like Remus had told him this before. That was ridiculous though, right?

Once he was done, James was quick to read on, wanting more than anything to stop talking about all of this.

Dumbledore had agreed to the idea, though he wasn't happy.

Lily huffed and grumbled something under her breath, that they all heard and agreed anyways.

Molly was shocked, asking why wouldn't he be happy if they caught Black?

James paled to the colour Sirius currently was, knowing he'd rather die than let his best friend be dragged back into living with those things.

Arthur pointed out how much Dumbledore hated dealing with the guards, and while Arthur would normally agree with him, when dealing with people like Black, it was a necessary evil.

Both James and Remus' voice spiked as they started to protest that sentence, but Sirius was the one to cut them off, only being able to speak just loud enough to catch their attention. He was still having some problems breathing properly to speak to loudly as he said, "thanks guys, really I mean it. Come on though, you can't start yelling about this every time it comes up."

"You bet your arse I can," James snapped right back.

Sirius rolled his eyes indulgently, then took a moment to smile over at Harry. He looked just as frustrated as anyone else, but Sirius now knew how the other boy was feeling about people yelling at something he'd rather just skip. It wasn't the same thing, not by a long shot, since Sirius found it more than relevant that they should know what happened at the Dursleys Harry wasn't talking about, but at least he could sympathize the feeling now.

The conversation ended there, and Harry scrambled farther down the stairs as the parents went to go and check on their kids. Further down the stairs, Harry found Fred and George snickering in the shadows, as they'd been the one to steal Percy's badge and had been making improvements on it, as it now read Bighead Boy.

Sirius forced a laugh, but he was the only one who attempted.

Harry forced himself to laugh, went and found Ron's Rat Tonic and gave it back to him, before going back to his own room, his mind stuck on one thing. Sirius Black was after him.

James scoffed deep in his throat, while Sirius sunk all the lower, unable to find anger this time. He'd thought it was bad before, but now he not only found out his horrible little theory was right, but Harry was still learning about him like this! It made him want to burst into tears and break someone's ribcage all at the same time.

This time Remus slung his arm across his friend's shoulder, and leaned in to whisper something in his ear. It didn't make him laugh like normal, but it brought up a weak smile none the less, erasing that look however temporarily.

It did explain things, like why Fudge had been so relieved to find Harry alive he'd let him slide out of punishment, and why the Ministry was sending cars for the Weasley's, all the better way to keep an eye on Harry until he was safely on the Hogwarts Express.

James had to cut himself off every few minutes to mutter what nonsense this was, but he got through most of it intelligibly.

As he reflected on all of that though, he realized he wasn't actually scared.

That finally released a bark like laugh from Sirius. It was far more subdued than normal, but he turned gleaming eyes on Harry anyways.

Harry was quick to return it with a smile and say, "probably because I knew deep down you couldn't hurt a butterfly if you wanted to."

"I almost resent that," he said in an attempt at a snooty tone of voice, "I can be plenty vicious when I want to."

"Couldn't hurt me then," Harry amended.

Which made them all beam with unrestrained pleasure. They could have sat around trying to convince Sirius all day about this, but in his mind it would have been more like false hope. He just couldn't shake the horrible image swirling around his brain that he'd gone crazy in that place, and could actually harm his little pup. Coming from Harry though, even his instincts rather than actual memory, made him want to get up and hug his godson all over again that he was still so confident of this feeling no matter what he heard.

He did of course remember how Sirius Black had ended up in prison, and clearly all of Harry's elders thought he'd be terrified to find he was next on the list, but Harry agreed with something Mrs. Weasley had said, there was no better place for him then Hogwarts. Surely since his headmaster had been the one man Voldemort himself had feared, it stood to reason his second

All five of them snorted in disgust again, never not finding that one of the most laughable and insulting things yet.

would feel the same.

"I'm respectably afraid of the Headmaster," Sirius opinionated, though no one had asked him he felt obligated to answer anyways. "There's a difference!"

"Sure Padfoot," James said in a soothing voice, giving him a condescending pat on the head, making Sirius swat it away and call James something that made Lily snap, "Sirius!"

Harry and Remus were reduced to laughter again. It didn't fully erase the unease that this topic kept bringing up, but it did remind them all that they were still in the present time. This was not a bloody prophecy to come, they would fix this mess!

Harry also decided that these guards must be something to recon with, and if they were blocking all entrances to the school, surely there was no way Black could get in.

Sirius scoffed, this time his cocky nature made a full appearance. No damn dementors were going to stop him from seeing his pup.

No, what in fact was really keeping Harry bummed out, was the fact that all of this meant he most definitely was not going to be visiting Hogsmeade this year.

Which made the four of them dissolve into renewed yet sad laughter all over again. To them, their world was still tipped upside down because of this constant reminder of such news, and yet Harry was still stuck on this one small thing in the grand scheme. It wasn't really funny, it still made them want to cry that Harry would never properly know Sirius as the Uncle he should have been, but in that moment it was better to laugh then cry.

Sadly Harry now reflected that everyone else would consider this a good thing he'd be locked away in the castle for the year. Then his annoyance began to spike as he realized they all thought he couldn't handle himself. He had come face to face with Voldemort three times now,

"Not something I wanted to be reminded of," James pointed out, "no matter how impressive it is."

he wasn't completely useless.

"Useless," Remus rolled his eyes, "is the wrong word for sure."

"Besides, I've no doubt you could take me down just by batting your eyes a certain way," Sirius grinned, smiling indulgently at the boy, "so maybe they should send you after me."

This time James popped him lightly on the back of his head, ignoring that stupid comment.

Then his mind once again flashed back to that stray dog, that omen, before he snapped out loud to himself that he wasn't going to be murdered!

"Of that I'll make sure," Sirius whispered, mostly for James benefit who looked all the more annoyed now Harry himself was saying that type of stuff. At Sirius comment though, James relaxed like he never had before during this story. Hagrid, Dumbledore, and the Weasleys were a great source of protection for his son, but he did recognize in that moment the light in this dark subject. Sirius was free, and he would sooner give his own life then let anything happen to Harry. He prayed to Merlin it would never come to that sort of thing, that there would be a miracle sometime soon and the real cause for Sirius' imprisonment would be found and Sirius would be free to look after Harry as he always properly should have, and that was the most reassuring thing of all.

His mirror told him to keep his spirits up.

"That's the end of the chapter," James declared trying to pass the book along to Sirius, who didn't exactly look keen on reading.

HPHPHP

* question submitted by RoyalRose161, if anybody has any other plot holes or just random questions you'd like to see me try and explain away, feel free to ask.

[eleanorbloom]

[OH] When You’re Ready (Bryce L. x f! MC x Ethan R.)

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything of the Open Heart World, it belongs to Pixelberry Studios. The name Eleanor Bloom and her story was created by me.

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f! MC (Eleanor Bloom) x Ethan Ramsey. 

Word Count: 2.7k

Warning: Some angst, adult language, some adult situations. This is definitely a NS-FW fanfiction so anyone under 18 years old MUST NOT READ IT.

Summary: Bryce has decided to let go of Eleanor because she’s in love with Ethan Ramsey. But a turn in her relationship with the attending might change Bryce's plans.

_____________

Chapter 1: Why.

So many nights trying to find someone new

They don’t mean nothing compared to you

 He opened the door of his apartment, staggering. The celebration at Donahue’s had been wilder than he expected. Too many tequilas he couldn’t deny to Jackie. And too much anxiety to kill with alcohol.

Bryce sat on the sofa and sighed. He finally had a break to process what had happened today. Eleanor was safe. The Ethics Committee had decided to not suspend her, and Teresa Martínez’s family had withdrawn the lawsuit against Edenbrook, as they were grateful for what Eleanor did for their mother. In the end, all her effort and dedication had been rewarded.

He was happy about it, but more relieved that Eleanor wouldn’t leave. Bryce had been feeling increasingly afraid of that possibility, although he was trying to stay positive. The world wasn’t a fair place, the doctors didn’t have to understand the real reasons that led Eleanor to help Teresa Martínez. They would only see incompetence, malpractice, but never the honest desire that Mrs. Martínez enjoyed her last days traveling, just as she always dreamed since she was a child.

The very idea that things had been different caused him intense pain. Thinking of all the suffering that Eleanor could’ve to go through was almost unbearable. Also, the fact that she had to leave and he couldn’t see her anymore. But mainly it was her pain that affected him the most. She was one of the few people who deserve all the good in the world, for her kind heart, her dedication, her solidarity with her colleagues and patients. She didn’t deserve anything that was happening to her, but at least it was all was over now.

And now another thought came to his mind: Eleanor was with him right now. With Ethan Ramsey.

He wished with all his heart that whatever they had now would work for them, because she was truly interested in him, to his misfortune. But he respected her decision. From the day she told him that they couldn’t keep their casual hookups because she was feeling things for Ethan Ramsey, he respected her decision and wished her well. Every time Bryce saw her or saw them, he wished them all the best from the bottom of his heart, although they were apparently far from it.

Since Ramsey had left the hospital, he hadn’t reached out to her not a single time, not even to ask how she was or to support her in the difficult process she was living with the Ethics Committee. What asshole leaves Eleanor at a time like that, when she was supposed to be someone Ramsey cared about? When she heard from Eleanor that Ramsey had not contacted her, he felt uncontrollable anger but did his best to not say anything. Yes, he was suffering for his friend, Naveen Banerji, but Eleanor, with his life on the verge of collapse, still cared for Banerji and him, she hid the secret from her friends and colleagues, and then, when she found the cure for the old man, she used her time to cure him instead of preparing for the Ethics Hearing. But the Great Ethan Ramsey couldn’t give her a fucking hour just to support her because it was more important his suffering and sense of failure than what Eleanor was going through.

Eleanor had left him for a selfish, insufferable ass who was unable to use his position or his freedom and time to support her when she most needed it. Instead, Bryce had spent all the time he needed to recover from the poorly sleeping hours every surgical resident has since Medical School, acompannying and helping her to get the support of senior physicians from Edenbrook.  

Well, yes, in the end, Ramsey did use his contacts to help her. But of moral support? No signs.

And now she was with him. He saw her approaching Ramsey when he entered Donahue’s, and how quickly they left.

Bryce couldn’t judge her; it was her feelings after all. But he sensed that the following events wouldn’t be good news. There was the rumor that Ethan Ramsey would return to his old position at Edenbrook, so he would continue that stormy dynamics of setting limits with Eleanor because he was her boss, but still breaking those limits at the slightest pressure. And he would continue to have Eleanor in limbo, waiting for him to make up his mind and choose her despite his fears. Waiting for him to decide to give her everything she deserved without conditions or hesitation. All that love, attention, and affection that he wanted to give her, and that somehow were still there, waiting for his chance.

He sighed again.

“Everything happens in time, Bryce. Don’t rush it, ” he said to himself before making his way to his bedroom to catch some sleep.

The next day, the good news were announced. Harper Emery left her position as Chief of Medicine and would return to her scrubs as Head of Neurosurgery. Naveen Banerji would take her position, so Ethan Ramsey was officially Director of Diagnostics. The last big news was that Eleanor had won the junior fellow competition and would be spending her second year of residency as a junior member of the Diagnostic Department.

He was so happy for her because it was something she really deserved. All the sweat, blood, and tears that she had put into that competition had found its reward. Besides, she deserved it for her human qualities. However, he also knew that the news implied a turn in her relationship with Ramsey. Aside from being her boss, now they would be colleagues, they would work much closer, and if Ethan already intended to put boundaries between them, her position in the Team would put much more difficulty on that. Bryce didn’t want to take this news as a light at the end of the tunnel, an opportunity after so much confusion, but he couldn’t lie to himself. Deep down he wanted this to complicate things, but on the other hand, he didn’t want to see Eleanor suffering again. He wasn’t a selfish bastard to want something like that.

Bryce saw the exchange of awkward glances between Ethan and Eleanor, while Naveen Banerji gave them a knowing smile. It was clear that the old man knew what was going on between the two and didn’t seem to care at all. Probably Naveen would be in the front line encouraging Ethan to stop being such an idiot and accept his feelings for Eleanor. Hell, if he himself didn’t have feelings for Eleanor, he would be by Banerji’s side, with popcorn cheering Ramsey to finally make up his mind and stop making Eleanor suffer. But of course, that was not the case. He was hopelessly in love with her.

Ethan looked away, embarrassed, and quickened his pace to catch up with Naveen. Eleanor turned to him. Her smile was so bright that the sun would be jealous of the light, warmth and beauty that emanated from her, happiness and pride swelling her heart.

Bryce opened his arms, inviting her for a hug.

“C’mere!”

Eleanor cheerfully received the hug, rejoicing in the warmth she only found in Bryce’s arms. From the first hug many months ago, both hiding in a supply closet, Eleanor had been conscious of the healing powers of his hugs. At that time, he consoled her of her first breakdown on her first day at Edenbrook. And now, that embrace was simply showing the pride and happiness Bryce was feeling for her achievement. He, who had always trusted her, even more than herself. He, who had always shown her the way to self-confidence and fight for what she believed in.

“You did it, Elle. You really did it”

“Yes! I am still in shock. Yesterday, this time, my life was still threatened, and look at me now! I won the competition. Well, not technically because it was finished when Ethan left … But I was chosen by Naveen Banerji himself, my mentor’s mentor”

“Yes, and the guy whose life you saved. It was the least he could do”.

“Well, I think so,” She shrugged, “But I’d like to think that I made it for all my merits in the competition.”

“Of course, Elle. You deserved this spot more than anyone, apart from being an excellent doctor, you are an extraordinary human being. And that’s what makes you better than anyone.”

“Aww Bryce,”Eleanor hugged him again, touched, “You’re always so flattering. I hope someday I know my qualities just as well as you know them.”

“Well, just keep hanging out with me and this self-assurance will infect you. But be careful, our friends could stop tolerating you as they do with me sometimes because my ego is too big.”

“Oh, I think I could reach a healthy balance between knowing my worth and not overstepping the limits of self-centeredness”

“Oh, are you implying I’m out of it?”—Bryce raised an eyebrow, serious.

“No, but you are always very close to the verge. Since you haven’t surpassed it yet, that’s why I still consider you my friend”

“Oh, you honor me,” He feigned a modest bow.

“Well, I should get back to my patients before the attendings chew me out for wasting my time with a scalpel jockey.”

“Oh my gosh, Eleanor, how can you be so cruel to someone who treats you well and fills your soul with self-confidence? I think the position went to your head”

“Who are you again? ”She asked, looking at him from head to toe.

Bryce grinned, “I’m going to become Harper Emery’s favorite and I’ll be the one to ask you who you are. We all know that surgery is more popular than internal medicine.”

They both laughed.

“You are such a child, Lahela. Never change.”

Eleanor raised the palm of her hand.

“I won’t, "Bryce replied as they high fived. 

He saw her leaving to the Nurse's Station at a light pace.  He couldn’t suppress a smile. He was extremely happy to see her succeed on her first day back at Edenbrook. She deserved that and more.

As he supposed, things between Eleanor and Ethan didn’t go well. From what he could observe and the things he heard from Eleanor’s drunken babbling, Ethan was trying to set serious boundaries between them, but not strong enough to prevent them from ending up kissing in his office to kill the tension or suppress the pain of not being able to be together as much as they wanted, simply because Ethan didn’t want it that way.

As the weeks went by, the situation became increasingly annoying to Bryce. Although he had made up his mind to forget Eleanor, he still unconsciously wanted her to realize that he was everything she needed and deserved. And he felt stupid waiting for her because it was clear that Eleanor had no eyes for anyone but Ethan, even if he kept ignoring her.

His annoyance reached such a point that one day he made the decision to avoid any contact with Eleanor and her friends as much as he could. He began to spend time with his surgical mates in his interest to meet new people and lose himself in the sea of parties and girls with whom to spend the night.

That night, he went to Donahue’s with the interns knowing that Eleanor and her friends had a night shift, so he wouldn’t have to meet her. He took a seat next to Rosa and Charles.

“You had a fight with your nerdy medical friends, or what?” Rosa asked when she saw him take a seat.

“No, why?”

“Because you have been spending a suspicious amount of time with us lately, when you used to be with them all the time.”

“I needed a change,” he shrugged nonchalantly,“Now that the competition’s over, there’s not so much gossip around them.”

“Sure, ”Rosa replied, not convinced.

A few shots later, several surgical residents were gathered. Including a third-year resident Bryce had always found attractive because she had an air of Shania Twain, and she was the first musical crush he had ever had.

Apparently, the reputation of being Bryce Lahela was also well received by older residents, because after two hours of drinks, Bryce was there, crossing the door to his apartment with his arms wrapped around Caroline’s waist, the attractive surgical resident who aspired to specialize in plastic surfery.

The woman was incredibly neat and was dressed impeccably. She had an exquisite aroma and a look so inquisitive that it seemed like she was looking through his skin. Although, she was actually scrutinizing his skin.

“I can’t believe it’s real,” she said, touching his cheeks with her fingertips.

“Me? Of course I am.”

Caroline rolled her eyes up, “No, your skin. I was always struck by how smooth it looked, like you were a doll. And I think you are.”

“I think this level of observation is more intimidating than having to pose for an hour naked in front of the whole hospital”

“I bet you wouldn’t mind spending your life walking naked with that body you have.”

“And I won’t in a couple of moments either.”

Caroline cut the distance between their bodies with one swift movement, kissing him. They continued their journey to the room, where the clothes went down the floor and the four walls muffled the moans and exclamations that came from their bodies. And so came the culmination of that long-awaited search for pleasure on the skin of another woman, with the intention of erasing the marks of someone from the past, believing that it would help him end his agony.

“Crap, Lahela. I always try to have low expectations, but you have proven me wrong.”

“Prove you wrong?”

“I thought you weren’t the wonder that people said, but you are.”

But no. Instead of ending with the ego energized by ending up banging with the woman he intended to, and even more flattered for his performance; Bryce ended with an existential void that decomposed him the entire night.

“And you are as attractive as I imagined you would be, since my first week as a surgical intern.”

Caroline didn’t know it, but those were the hollowest words Bryce had ever said. Without true charm, candor, interest, or desire. And he said them just to not be rude with her. 

“Shut up, it sounds like you have a crush with your elementary school teacher, and we don’t have that much of an age difference”

Bryce simply gave her a humorless smile.

He woke up the next morning with the bed empty.

He sighed with relief. The truth was he had no intention of dealing with Caroline or faking a smile or joking about the night before, because he was in such a shitty mood, he hoped it would at least let him greeting the staff and patients before locking himself in his bad mood.

In his intention to try to be better about the situation with Eleanor, he was worse now.

Weeks later, he tried again, but with the same result. During the encounter, he couldn’t help but wish that she was the one in his arms, or that she was by his side after the act was over. Was it Caroline, or any other resident, or even a Tinder date, the result was the same. He still missed her, he still imagined her features and the beautiful expressions on her face when he had another woman in his bed.

Bryce finally understood that the lie of filling the void she had left with other women had only increased his pain, so he decided to not be with a woman again until he had begun to heal. And to do it, he had to learn to deal with Eleanor and her friends. He couldn’t use the technique that so much criticized Ethan Ramsey, so he stopped being so reluctant to the company of Eleanor and her roommates, and returned to spend time with them.  It wouldn’t be easy,  he was sure about that, but it had to be done.

_________

A/N:

Hello everyone!

So, here I am posting my first Choices Fanfic ever. I’ve been working on it for a while because I have the bad habit of publishing things and then don’t finish them.

This is a challenge for me because it’s written in English, which is not my mother language. I’m a Spanish speaker, so, I’ve been reading and polishing my vocabulary and looking for more informal expressions and slang to make this fanfiction less boring or formal. So I apologize in advance if my narration is weird, my grammatic is wrong or if I have misspelled words. I appreciate your patience and if you have any advice of how I can better my writing skills, it’s welcome!

I’m an old school fanfiction writer, which means my fanfic will be LARGE compared to most of the fanfics that are here. I really admire the people who write drabbles or one-shot fanfics without previous fanfics to referred or just with a prompt list! This will have at least 20 chapters (I’m still deciding if I merge some or not, so that’s why I don’t have an exact number) because it’s a slow burn story.

Oh, another thing. The title of the fic and all the chapters are song-inspired. The title’s fanfic and the plot are inspired by Shawn Mendes’s song. At the beginning of each chapter, you’ll find the lyrics that inspire the plot of each one.

Well, enough verbiage. Welcome to When You’re Ready. I hope you enjoyed it!

Let me know if you want me to add you to the tag list.

Eleanor.

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Chapter 2.

[fedeipox]

The Way of Time (Rdr2 fanfic) - Chapter 8 (2/3)

I’m a little late with this, I know. I’ve been a little busy lately. University stuff.

Part 1 here: https://fedeipox.tumblr.com/post/643045553196908544/the-way-of-time-rdr2-fanfic-chapter-8-13

Chapter 8 (2/3) - The future that awaits us all

Words: 2k

“See? We have found something! We have found a job!” she exclaimed jumping up and down as soon as they returned to the street.

“We? I have found the job.”

She stopped her jumping and looked at him right in the eye.

“Hey, if it wasn’t for me…”

“Uncle gave me the idea to take a bounty, that’s the only reason why I followed you inside the sheriff’s.”

He didn’t know why he was saying those things, to annoy her maybe, to see what had happened if she got angry. The result was one of her funny faces: she opened her mouth of a couple of inches, outraged by his behavior, and Arthur had to turn around to hide a smile.

“You are terrible! Worst than a child!” she yelled at his back.

“Oh, now I am the child” he chuckled as he started to walk away.

There was a pause and for a moment Arthur thought she had started to cry or something like that, but when he turned around he found her standing still in the middle of the road with her arms crossed on her chest.

“I’ll come with you and take half of the money” she stated.

“What?” exclaimed Arthur walking back to her.

“You? A bounty hunter?” he sneered.

“He’s just a doctor, how dangerous can he be? I’ll help you and take half of the money.”

Arthur brought a hand to his face rubbing his eyes, but unable to restrain another smile. Was it what he wanted? Did he want her to go with him?

“How do you think to do that? Uh? You can barely ride a horse and you have no strength to deal with a grown up man.”

“I can ride a horse, at least… in theory. And you’ll take care of the man. I’ll just help you as I can.”

“Which is?” 

“I don’t know! We will find something.”

Arthur didn’t want to argue there, in the middle of the street, with that incredibly stubborn girl, about bounties and money. He thought that it was better if they delayed that conversation.

“Yeah, alright. For now we better go back to Uncle, he’ll be wondering where we are.”

They walked back to the general store where they found a dozed off Uncle, with a bottle of whiskey in his hands.

“Yeah, you’re right. He was just wondering were we were” joked Emily and turning around she walked back again.

“Where are you going now?” asked Arthur in exasperation.

“To find something. I didn’t come here to do what I do in camp.”

They walked in front of all the stores of the town, looking at everything but never stopping. Valentine had nothing of a city, nothing interesting, no attraction, and Emily wondered if that was due to the fact that they were in 1899, or just because there was actually nothing there.

“You think we can visit some other town someday?” she asked to Arthur.

“I don’t know. Where are we going?” he complained.

“Like… I’d like to see Saint Denis. I wonder how it was… how it is, now.”

“It’s a city, how you expect it to be? Can you tell me where are you going?”

“Just around.”

“Just around?”

“If you want to go, Arthur, go. I know this place, I’ve been here one hundred times already. I know how to move.”

Arthur sighed but didn’t stop following her. She might know the way but she didn’t know people and how dangerous they could be. He kept her pace fearing she would have never stopped, when she did stop… in front of the gunsmith!

“What, you want to buy a gun now?” he asked half amazed, half perplexed.

“No, not really” she said, and walked inside.

“Hello, Miss. How do you do?” asked the owner.

“Hi, I wanted to know if you still have those, erm, Cattleman Revolvers you talked about” she asked.

What was she doing? Did she really want to buy a gun? Why? To protect herself of course. What had happened if she had found another O’Driscoll waiting around the corner just to hurt her or one of her friends? Obviously, she wasn’t thinking about using it, but just own it to scare the shit out of people who bothered her.

“Yes, Miss, I have them.”

“Can I see one?”

“The hell are you doing?” asked Arthur completely shocked.

As the man made a little bow and walked in the other room, Emily turned to look at Arthur who couldn’t take his wide open eyes from her.

“What happened to the ‘I don’t like guns’?” he asked.

“I don’t like them, but I have to defend myself somehow, don’t you think? And, who said I want to use it?”

“You buy a gun just to show it? That’s stupid.”

“That’s smart thinking. If people see one, they don’t mess with you.”

Arthur laughed. He owned definitely more than one, but people messed with him anyway. Or he messed with them?

The man came back with a shiny brand new revolver that he delivered to Emily’s insecure hands. She took the thing and gripped it, feeling its weight and consistency. It was incredible how something so small and useless when not charged could make her feel so different as she held it: it was like that weapon was giving her new strength, new courage, new certainties. She felt like she could walk down the road but not as a simple citizen, but as the owner of the road, or the entire Valentine.

Yes, the power of that thing was dangerous, and becoming aware of her own feelings she got scared and immediately put it down on the counter.

“I’m sorry. I-I can’t” she murmured and ran out of the shop.

Where was all that boldness coming from? First she had imposed her will on Arthur, then the harsh reply, and finally the terrible idea to buy a gun? What was happening to her?

“Hey, are you okay?” asked Arthur coming out of the shop with a slight worried face.

“Yes, I’m sorry, you were right. I shouldn’t even think about buying one of those devilish things.”

She was back to her senses. It was like Arthur had just seen another girl inside that shop, someone with darker intents, and he couldn’t tell if he liked that one better than the real one.

“Come, let’s keep walking” he suggested. 

...

Walking was a good way to clear her mind, and so she did. She tried to understand where that crazy idea had come from, but she couldn’t. She was so lost in her thoughts that she understood where she was only when she saw the well-known door of Keane’s saloon. 

“Do you want to drink something?” she asked to Arthur.

He raised his eyebrows and nodded, but without being absolutely sure about how to interpret her suggestion. They walked in the plain and modest room, with only three customers inside. One was seated at one of the tables, or it is better to say, he was laying on one of the tables, fallen asleep dead drunk - Arthur and Emily didn’t pay much attention to him - but the two at the bar where definitely more interesting. 

One was rather old, and drunk too, while the other, a little younger, with glasses and a big book opened in front of him, looked like some sort of intellectual. Emily followed Arthur to the bar, who ordered a couple of whiskeys tossing a coin on the counter, and in the meantime she listened to the mental conversation the two men were having.

“Oh, this isn’t going very well” moaned the intellectual addressed by the old man as ‘Plato’ with a gesture of desperation.

“Are you a writer, mister?” asked Emily.

“If I can call myself so, yes, I’m a writer, and it will be the end of me” he complained.

“What are you writing about?”

“Him” he harshly replied, pointing one of his fingers to the old man who now was asleep on the bar.

“Who’s this?” asked Arthur from behind Emily’s back and turning around she noticed the little glass full of amber liquid just waiting for her.

“Jim ‘Boy’ Calloway” answered the writer. 

“Who?” asked Emily and Arthur in chorus.

“The gunslinger. Fastest left-handed draw that ever drew breath.”

“You ever heard of him?” asked Arthur to Emily who shook her head.

The man started telling all the great deeds of that unknown famous gunslinger and in the meantime Emily found the courage to swallow her glass of whiskey which, as expected, made her throat burn.

“Excuse me, mister, but what’s your name?” she asked as she recovered the ability to speak.

Maybe she knew the man’s name or the title of the book he wanted to write about Jim ‘Boy’ Calloway.

“Theodore Levin.”

No, the name told her nothing. He must have been one of those poor deluded who wanted to reach fame with their writing, but that in the end history had sadly forgotten. 

“Sorry, but… I don’t understand. If you hate him so much, why are you waisting your time writing about him?”

“I wouldn’t hate him if he didn’t make it impossible for me to write this blessed book!”

Then, just like he received the illumination, he turned around on his stool to looked at the two of them.

“What?” asked Arthur.

“I am really sorry to ask, but… will you help me? I am kind of desperate, I’ve been working on this thing for months now and I haven’t took anything out of it.”

“How?” asked Emily.

How could they help him? Making up the things he had to write? Trying to take out the informations from Mr. Calloway by force?

“There’s a whole list of gun fighters” said Levin taking a couple of what looked like photographs from his bag.

“Legends, every last one. Emmet Granger, Flaco Hernandez, Billy Midnight…”

Emily took the photos the man gave her, one by one, looking at the mean faces on the black and white paper, but having no idea of who those people where.

“Black Belle.”

Emily’s heart lost a beat.

“What? Black Belle?” she exclaimed.

“Do you know her?” asked Levin.

“Of course, she’s a legend among children!”

“Children?” asked Arthur perplexed.

“Black Belle in the Forest of Berries. Never heard of it?”

But Emily stopped right away, her mouth had said too much and now the writer was looking at her suspiciously.

“Sorry, wrong person” she lied. “Anyway, you want us to find them, and then what?” she asked to divert.

“Well, ask them about him” he said nodding towards Calloway. 

“And what happens when they don’t… collaborate, let’s say” said Arthur taking another drink.

Emily hadn’t been looking at him, but she could perfectly tell he had had more than one already.

“Well, you look like someone with… experience, sir. I don’t think it will be a problem to convince them or… silence them, when necessary.”

Emily raised her eyebrows. Was he saying what she thought he was saying?

“Y-you mean…” she started, but Arthur interrupted her.

“What’s our profit?”

“Half of the proceeds once the book is published” said the writer without hesitation.

“Well, I’ll see what I can do, then” replied Arthur heading unexpectedly to the door.

“Oh, wait” Levin called out. “Get photos” he said handing an old photo-camera to Emily who opened her mouth in amazement.

“Whoah! This is… I can’t believe it.”

“And there are notes on the back of those photos, they should tell you where you can find them.”

“Well, we’ll let you know what we find out, Mr. Levin” said Emily and she shook hands with the man before she and Arthur walked out of the saloon. 

“Black Belle in the Forest of Berries? Really?” asked an ironic Arthur. 

“Hey, it’s not my fault if your ‘legendary gunslingers’ are no-one in the future.”

“For me they are no-one even now, but I guess that’s what awaits us all: become no-one.”

Emily was struck by his words, but she couldn’t but agree. As a matter of fact, she had never heard of the Van der Linde gang, nor the O’Driscolls, nor anybody else. And poor Black Belle had moved from being a famous gun fighter, to a children book heroine. What were those lives worth if no-one was going to remember them in the future?

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #381

“don’t try to be the one person who has stayed just to say they never left me”

Do you feel bored with your life? Always. Do you miss anyone who was mean to you in the past? I sometimes miss Colleen, but I know it's for the better that we no longer associate with each other. What’s the most weight you’ve ever gained from a medication? I don't know, but a fuck of a lot. Thanks, Abilify. Have you ever been suicidal? Yes. Do you pray? If yes, to whom? No. What do you miss about high school? Memories with Jason. What do you miss the most about college? Socializing. What was the best date you’ve ever been on? A triple date to an arcade w/ Jason and friends. What’s the last great song you discovered? The most recent one? I don't know, really. Do you feel free to post how you feel on Facebook? Yeah. Don't like what I post, delete me. Have you ever done cocaine? Yikes, no thanks. Do you think you’ll ever get married? Do you want to? I sometimes wonder if I ever will. I'm scared of just continuing to be an unemployed leech that is doing nothing significant with her life, in which case it's like, why even be with me romantically. I feel like such a dead end street. I want to get married someday. Who do you care about the most? When it comes down to it, probably my mom. Have you ever made out on a couch? Yeah. Would you ever get gauged ears? I want small gauges, actually. When it comes to clothing, are you the conservative type? Yes, because I hate my body and don't want others to see it. Do you enjoy eating? I wish I didn't. Have you ever ridden in a race car? No. Do you go out of your way to impress the opposite gender? No. Do you enjoy history? Not really, no. It bores me. Are you a pajama person or do you stay dressed all day? I'm just about always in my pjs. Do you value looks or personality more? Personality is way more important. Have you ever changed religions? Yeah. Born Roman Catholic, converted to Christianity when I further understood the differences, then I went to how I am now: I believe in something(s), but I don't quite know what. I wouldn't call myself a Neo-Pagan, but it's what I relate most to. Would you ever wear fake eyelashes? I would for like, my wedding. Foo fighters vs. Red Hot Chili Peppers: I'm actually not a big fan of either. Are you a fan of the SAW movies? I don't really watch them. Do you ever forget how old your siblings are? My two immediate sisters, I'm sometimes a year off. All my others, yes. :x Mountain Dew or Sprite? Mountain Dew, of course. I really don't like Sprite now, which is ironic because as a kid, it was my favorite soda. Could you ever give yourself a shot? Yeah. Have you ever worked as a cashier? That was one of my duties when I worked at a dollar store. If you are on birth control that allows you take pills and skip your period, how often do you opt to skip it? How come? My birth control doesn't allow me to skip, but rather, it regulates it. Is there a book series where you loved the first book, but for some reason the other books in the series just didn’t measure up? I can't say that, no, as most series I just kinda fell out of, like The Hunger Games. LOVED the first book, started the second, and even though I was enjoying it, I just stopped for some reason? Are there any stores/restaurants that you would like to shop/eat at, but there aren’t any located near enough to you? Haha yeah, like lots of west coast fast food places like Jack n' the Box or however it's formatted. If you were told by a professional that you were unable to become pregnant, how would that affect you? Is there something important to you about conceiving a biological child rather than adoption? And finally, if you even want to have children, would you choose adoption or surrogacy or would you go on childless? I don't even want kids, so honestly, I'd be stoked if I learned I was infertile. Wouldn't need to worry about the chance of getting pregnant and facing an abortion dilemma. Is there something that you did not used to take seriously, that you either now take seriously or wish that you had in the past (e.g., a relationship that you miss, your education, etc.)? Hm. I don't know. Are there any subjects that you are interested in so much that you would read whole books or academic journals about them? Meerkats, especially. I will read EVERY scientific article about them I find. Are you physically affectionate with your friends? I'm a hugger. When you were in middle school and high school, did you witness a lot of bullying? How did the teachers react to name-calling or violence? Not really, thankfully. Are any of your friends/relatives actually impressive artists or writers? Are you willing to share an example of their work? Yeah. I have a cousin who's really good at drawing, and my sister is a wonderful cake decorator. Do you drink more apple or orange juice? Orange. Could you forgive your best friend for sleeping with your gf/bf? My hypothetical bf/gf, no. Would you ever donate blood? I have before, and I would again if I knew I was hydrated enough and the opportunity was right there. Would you rather drink coffee or tea? Ugh, neither. Do you get easily embarrassed? YES. How long was your longest make out? TMI alert, like all night. If the person who hurt you most said they’re sorry would you believe them? I honestly don't know. Do you have sensitive skin? Very. What color is your mum's car? White. Do you live in an apartment? No. Do you have a pet fish? Nope. Are you happy with your eye color? I wish they were a more sapphire blue. Solid soap bar or liquid body wash? Absolutely liquid body wash. What color do you want your dream car to be? Baby pink. *-* Do you have more then one favorite band? I say I do, but at the same time I know Ozzy Osbourne will ALWAYS be #1. Do you prefer being single or in a relationship? In a relationship. But it's absolutely not something I'm about to force just for the sake of being in one. Would you be really upset if Facebook ceased to exist tomorrow? Nah. Have you or would you try shark meat? No to both. Do you know anyone that's pescatarian? No. Someone I watch on YouTube is, though. Are you shy or over confident around your crushes? Super shy. Do you think the govt. has a cure for cancer, but is hiding it from public? Hell, I think it's very well possible, but I lean more towards for financial hoarding, they simply don't further pursue potential cures that are discovered. I mean, just THINK about all the "future cures" you've read or heard about. It's fucking outrageous. It's all to fuel the medical industry. Okay, tin hat coming off. Last time you drank a diet soda? A very long time ago, because diet soda gives me a massive headache. Was your ex born in America? Only one wasn't. Name your favorite type of music and why. Metal. I for one just like the sound, and I find it very therapeutic when I'm especially mad or sad. Even when I'm in a good mood, I just enjoy it. I also feel that a lot of metal songs tell interesting stories and/or have very poetic lyrics. Do you own or have you read, or thought of reading any self-help books? I haven't, but I've considered it. Can you breakdance? Definitely not. Have you ever read a book and not understood it? If so which one? Yes. We were assigned this one war novel in middle school that was FUCKING AWFUL, like I was checked out the whole time. I don't remember its name or anything. Have you ever watched a movie and not understood it? If so which one? Yes; the Warcraft movie I mentioned in a recent survey. Orcs and their fucking deep-ass voice that I couldn't understand. Do you blowdry your hair? No. Tell me about your dream last night. Omfgggggg y'all. So, there's one invert pet that I've never understood the keeping appeal of, and that's giant centipedes. Their bites are notoriously excruciating, and they are just SO goddamn fast. Well, for some godforsaken reason, I wanted one as a pet. Got one, and it immediately got loose. Guess who wanted to shit herself lmao. Centipedes are very cool, but only from a distance, ya feel? Have you ever stayed in a fancy high-class rich hotel? No. Have you ever stayed in a rent-by-the-hour motel? I don't think so. Describe the worst fight you’ve ever been in whether physical or verbal. I'm not entirely sure about my *worst*, but I know it was with Mom. We've had a few. Have you heated any food in your microwave today? Yeah, a shrimp alfredo Lean Cuisine bowl. Do you own any items of clothing with cartoon characters on them? Yes. Have you ever played Animal Crossing? No, it doesn't seem like my kinda game. Do you own anything (e.g jewelry, accessories) with your initial on it? Yes, but none of which I personally bought because I don't really like them. Do you own any cats or dogs? What are their names? I have a cat named Roman. <3 Have you added any books to your shelves lately? Which? No. Have you bought any new cosmetics or toiletries lately? Which? No. Do your pets have a specific type of food that they prefer? Roman will eat whatever cat food he's given, while Venus, like your average ball python, is a picky eater. Like when I first got her, she wouldn't eat for almost a year because I just couldn't find a method through which she'd accept food. Now she consistently takes frozen/thawed small rats that have actually sat in warm water (versus doing it by hand under running water), and she generally won't strike it unless it's offered to her by tongs, but not dangling by the tail. Picky, picky miss thang. What's your favourite variety of apple? I'm not very particular about flavor so long as the apple is crisp. I canNOT do soft apples. Which of your physical features do you receive the most compliments about? My hair.

[ringcicatrix]

Memory meme @spiderstaff​ said:

♬ - a friend/best friend memory

“Are you okay, Bakura?”

Ryou had been lingering in the classroom at the end of the day, unable to bring himself to go home. His apartment was quiet, empty- but he was used to that, and didn’t mind it. No, that wasn’t what’d been lingering on his mind. Something else was keeping him distracted.

“Hey, Bakura? Are you listening?”

He’d felt panic when he’d seen Mr. Karita back at school, terrified that the man would recognize him as the reason he’d slipped into a coma. But the gym teacher had been no different from how he usually acted, still cruel, but no horrid accusations or vicious words. Not that he didn’t deserve them, but....

“Hey! Earth to Ryou!”

“H-Huh?”

“You were spacing out- is everything ok?”

“O-Oh, yeah. I’m alright.”

He hadn’t even realized that he’d been spacing out enough to draw the attention of the gang, Yugi and Jounouchi standing in front of him trying to get his attention. He smiled, though it felt a bit forced, and simply tried to not focus on his still-bandaged hand.

“You’ve been zonin’ out ever since gym class.” Ryou was surprised that Jounouchi had noticed- it wasn’t like he held a low opinion of the boy, or anything like that, but he simply hadn’t thought anyone would pay attention. “If that jerk Karita said anything, you let me know, okay? It’s like he doesn’t even know who helped him get back to normal!”

“H-Haha... no, it’s not that, I promise. I’m alright.” He gave his best polite smile, trying to ignore the guilt that picked at his heart while his friend attempted to reassure him. Mr. Karita would have every reason to pick on him- he felt lucky enough just that the man hadn’t started threatening to cut his hair again. “I guess I’ve just been tired. A lot’s happened, and with my hand, it can be a bit difficult to fall asleep...”

The others both nodded and offered sympathetic smiles, and Ryou couldn’t help but feel worse. It wasn’t like he was lying to them, but he also... wasn’t telling the complete truth. Because he was scared, and he didn’t want to burden them with anything more after all the trouble he’d already caused.

Together the group left the school, with Ryou hanging slightly to the back while the others spoke. He didn’t want them to worry about him, didn’t want them to notice any of the anxiety that slipped through his face- so if he stayed just slightly out of view, it’d be better. Simpler. He couldn’t possibly be a burden on his friends.

“Oh- I just realized, I forgot something inside.” 

Yugi’s sudden stop led to Ryou almost bumping into him, just barely managing to catch himself in time. The others all nodded, going on ahead at Yugi’s insistence, but Ryou went back with him. Not because he didn’t like the others, but just because... maybe if it was just Yugi, he could ask a couple questions. Try to get at least one thing off his mind. (Even if he failed, it wouldn’t be that big a deal- he’d never been that talkative anyways).

“If there’s something on your mind... I don’t mind talking. You’re our friend, Ryou. We trust you.”

That trust hurt, because it didn’t feel earned. He’d put them through a horrible experience, all because of the ring. They’d been so close to ending up another set of miniatures in his collection, of dolls with souls that could see and hear and feel but who couldn’t do anything but watch.

“I...” He bit at his lip, trying to ignore the pain in his chest and his hand. He hadn’t told any of them about what the ring had done, the way it’d dug itself into his skin like a parasite, as if it needed to suck at his blood to survive. The doctor at the hospital had been confused as to how he’d gotten the injuries, but he’d refused to respond- all that mattered was fixing them. “If Mr. Karita has woken up, then... I think... everyone else should’ve as well.”

Those weren’t the words that he’d planned on speaking, and by the looks of it, they weren’t what Yugi had expected him to say. Or maybe he had expected it, Ryou wouldn’t know.

“That’s good, right? All your old friends should be ok now.”

“I-It is, but... I...” He stopped walking, clutching his school bag a bit too tightly, trying to ignore the way his hand ached. “I... I can’t bring myself to try checking. Because... what if they’re still... unconscious? Or... what if they’re... if they’re...”

Dead.

He couldn’t even bring himself to say the word, but it haunted his mind. He’d died, briefly- he couldn’t remember much other than a warmth and a light, and the faintest echoes of those achingly familiar voices gently telling him that this wasn’t his time, and that he had to go back. He couldn’t stay with them yet, no matter how much he missed them.

“Well... Mr. Karita was okay, right? So I’m sure they must be too!”

“But he was only really out for a day, Yugi. For some of them, it’s been... it’s been so much longer. And... and even if they’re alive, they’ve lost so much time...”

He was a thief. He’d stolen their time, the most precious thing a person could have while alive. Even if it hadn’t been him- he’d befriended them. He’d made a selfish wish.

“Ryou. You can’t blame yourself for what the spirit did, okay?”

His friend wasn’t someone that Ryou would’ve ever called intimidating, but his stare had an intense determination that he felt like he couldn’t escape from. It was a bit like the other Yugi, the spirit of the puzzle- but softer, still very much belonging only to Yugi.

“I... I know it was him, but... but still...”

“You have to have faith in yourself. You didn’t do any of those things. You did everything you could to help us- you would never do things like that.”

He wanted to treat the words like shallow platitudes, tell himself that Yugi couldn’t really know him, because they hardly knew each other, but the shorter boy was hard to ignore. It was the same reason they’d even become friends in the first place- he seemed like he just wasn’t the sort of person who could ignore when another person was hurting. It was admirable, even if Ryou found it... a bit foolish. When it came to him, anyways. He was just bad luck.

He told himself that, and he told himself that, and yet he felt like he wanted to believe Yugi- and all of his friends- regardless of that.

Ryou changed the topic after that, switching to talk about that card game that’d been getting popular in the states recently. Yugi said he’d actually played before, a couple times now- Duel Monsters, it was called now. He’d have to make a deck of his own someday, and maybe he could show it to Yugi and Jounouchi.

When he finally got back home to his apartment, he let out a heavy sigh. Talking to Yugi had helped, and he really did believe that his friends would be there for him if he asked, but... he couldn’t ask them for help with this. He couldn’t burden them with this, not this particular thing.

There was a landline phone in his apartment, at his father’s insistence. He tended to only use it when talking with his father, or when he had to do important things- at current, his hands rested over a small book of numbers and names, frowning.

You have to do this. You have to do this.

He scanned until he saw one of the names on his internal list- Hayato. One of the boys he’d been friends with at his previous school. The last person to go into a coma before transferring. He still didn’t remember how it’d happened- maybe for the better- but it had been the last straw then, he’d been about to break.

Cursed. Cursed. It hadn’t mattered how many times he’d changed schools. Didn’t matter how far he’d moved from his father. He’d never lasted more than a year at any school since he’d gotten the ring. Sometimes it was his father’s work that made them move, other times it was the ring. But the result was always the same.

His fingers hovered above the buttons on the phone, paralyzed by fear. What if he hadn’t woken up? What if they were all still unconscious? And... if he had woken up, what’d happened? Did all of them hate him? They should’ve, after what he’d- the spirit- had done.

Don’t think about it. Just call. Just call, Ryou.

He’d punched in the number and picked up the receiver before he could give himself time to doubt himself once more, listening to the mechanical tones as the line rang. Once, twice, three times. He’d been about to give up, expecting it to go to voicemail- but instead a woman’s voice came on the line.

“A-Ah, I....” 

He startled at her brief introduction, a response which only seemed to make the woman confused.

“Is this a prank call?”

“N-No, Ma’am. I just...” He forced himself to take a deep breath, steadying his nerves. “I-I’m... Ryou Bakura. I’m a... friend of Hayato’s. I... wanted to ask about him... if he’s doing alright....”

The line went quiet for a moment, and Ryou started to wonder if she was going to hang up on him. He wouldn’t blame her- he was the reason her kid had ended up in a coma.

“Actually, he... he just woke up yesterday.” There was a mix of emotions in her voice that Ryou couldn’t fully understand, but the relief and exhaustion were clear. “Would you like to speak with him? I can give you his cell’s number. I’m sure he’d be overjoyed to speak with his friends- he’s still in the hospital for now.”

“I-I... yes, that would be... that would be nice. Thank you.”

She listed it out, and he copied it down dutifully, then they exchanged some quick goodbyes and left Ryou once more alone in a silent apartment. But... he was awake. One friend, at least, was awake.

Then surely, the rest had to be...

He wasn’t able to think long enough to discourage himself from calling his friend’s cell, punching in the number and waiting, praying that he would pick up. He only had to wait for one ring this time, before a voice that felt too familiar came on the line. It’d been a while now, and yet it felt as if the’d only spoken yesterday.

“Yo, this’s Hayato! Who’s there?”

“H-Hi, um... it’s Ryou...”

“Ryou?!” He was loud enough that Ryou had to hold the phone away from his ear, but he wasn’t angry. He sounded surprised, and maybe even a bit excited- but not mad. “Where’d you go, man?! I was talking with our classmates- they said you just up and vanished!”

“I-I... I transferred schools...”

“At the end of the year? That’s a bummer, dude. Your dad really never lets you catch a break, huh?”

There was a noise from the other end, the sounds of voices and surprise, and suddenly there were two more people talking.

“Ryou! You’re alright! We were so worried about you- Ai looked like she was gonna cry when she heard you weren’t at school anymore!”

“K-Kaito, shut up!”

“Ha! You’re blushing! You’re totally embarrassed!”

“Anyways,” Hayato had taken the phone back, apparently, “nobody’s really sure what happened, but all of us just... woke up! The doctors aren’t letting us go yet, just in case- but I haven’t felt this good in ages.”

“Y-You... all of you... y-you’re really... okay?”

“Yeah!”

It was like a floodgate broke- Ryou was crying into the receiver, trying and failing to keep his composure as his friends joked around as if he was still right there, as if nothing bad had ever happened.

They spoke for a while after that, Ryou telling them about Domino high and Domino City and what it’d been like since his move, and all of them talking about the gossip that their classmates had shared with them already in the short time since they’d woken up.

Ryou didn’t know if things would ever really be normal- and he couldn’t bring himself to contact more people, to check on every person because he knew that not everyone could be so happy, and not everyone would want to talk to him. And that was fine- they didn’t owe him that.

But his friends had woken up. They were awake. Even if they drifted apart, they were awake, and that was so much better than having “friends forever” if they were stuck in lead figurines, unable to do anything. And all of it, all of this, was thanks to Yugi and his- Ryou’s too- friends.

For the next week, Ryou spent his time after school working on something, a project that kept his mind busy while he settled into a life without the ring, without the blackouts and fear. it was something he was proud of, and even if working on it made his hand ache after an hour or two, it was worth it.

“There’s something that I want to show all of you.”

He said it with a smile, a genuine smile, as he held a small covered box in front of him. The gang gathered around a desk, curiously trying to inspect it- when he took the cover off, revealing the diorama he’d been working on.

“I made it myself... it’s a diorama of our adventure- a symbol of our friendship.”

He had friends now, friends whom he would never betray, and who he hoped would never betray him. No matter what, he’d do whatever he could to protect all of them, so that he wouldn’t ever lose a friend again.

[monchikyun]

III. coffee and cigarettes

Nothing good lasts forever and so even Connor’s short vacation comes to an early end, making him wish he had an excuse to take some more. He has plenty left too, never really having the need to spend more than what’s mandatory. The prospect of keeping himself a sole company for very long doesn’t much appeal to him. Too afraid of the brain rot that would make a space for his internalised guilt to fully manifest. 

There is never anything to do but to waste his free day away talking to his four-legged friend who doesn’t seem to even enjoy their one-sided conversations. He could busy himself with countless tasks but what’s the point when no one’s here to witness it. 

Sometimes he gets to hang out with his friends, rarely he’s ever lucky enough to pass the time with the one person who can make him smile, who can make him realise that there is more to him than the hurt corroding his insides. It happened only once, actually. 

Somehow he persuaded Gavin to join him for their walk to a dog park, though it wasn’t all that impressive of a feat. He likes to replay that day sometimes, a great way to fill the void in his mind that comes to visit whenever he has problems initiate sleep-mode. It was back in October, the sky was an ethereal shade of blue and the trees turned into a display of a non-lethal fire-show. All the reds and oranges towering over them and shedding pieces of their transcendent beauty on the ground for them to to do with as they please. He stole one. An oddly-shaped maple leaf hidden between pages of the book he won’t ever read. Of course, he gave one, too. And that was when he first fell something shift inside of his heart. The first time he ever wanted to kiss someone.

---

“Hey, tin can.”

“Good morning to you too, detective.”

The titles they call each other have lost their initial meaning and morphed into something that provides familiar comfort. Nicknames, perhaps.

Connor smiles with his eyes, not daring to show something more lest it gets misinterpreted by the wrong people. Because he has no right to be happy, least here of all places.

He scans the empty desk that used to be Hank’s work-space. Still empty. Several personal items belonging to a stranger, hair that isn’t Sumo’s but came out of some other dog. There is nothing left of his old friend anymore. Devoid of anything that matters to him.

Gavin watches his line of sight, he’s painfully aware of that. Their desks are stuck to each other now since they share all of their cases and therefore it’s convenient to be this close. It’s convenient to psyche. He’s glad he doesn’t have to face his failures on daily basis like that, now that detective Reed keeps him almost constant company. Maybe he should tell him how grateful he is,… someday.

❄️ ❄️ ❄️

There is a fresh coffee on his desk, one that Gavin hasn’t made for himself. A ritual that keeps repeating every work-day. He only asked the one time, back when he still couldn’t stand Connor and all the other plastics, yet he got nothing but some preprogrammed phrase then. Thinking about it now, maybe he shouldn’t have punched the android. His fist ached like a bitch and knowing Connor, he probably received zero damage from that feeble attack. God, he hated him at that time. Hated that there was no life hiding behind that pretty face and that he was powerless to do anything about it. He didn’t believe that androids had the potential to become something more than glorified computers, let alone human. It was Connor who showed him that being alive isn’t defined by the components or material one is made out of. It’s what one does that counts. The behaviours reserved only for those possessing free will. 

It took him a month to be fully convinced that Connor just might be more of a full-fledged person than Gavin could ever be. Three more and he fell flat in the dark pit of no return. 

It isn’t that loving Connor is an inconvenience or something he could live without, but he’d rather had his teeth pulled out one by one than to go another day knowing that his feelings will never be returned. That it will always be his fault for being such an unlovable bastard.

Drinking the pleasantly scalding coffee helps a little. It reminds him that Connor cares, to some extent. The fact that he takes the time of his day just so Gavin can have his daily dose of caffeine without having to lift a finger warms him through and through. It plants a tiny seed of hope to his heart.

He never asks but he always thanks him. Words of gratitude whispered underneath his breath, comprehensible only to the person who deserves to hear them.

Usually, he’d take the cup outside to compliment his morning smoke, but Connor is sitting in his chair a little too stiffly, his eyes wandering off somewhere distant. Not even his gratitude got acknowledged today. He gets like that more often that Gavin would like. Reversing back to his old self, to a time when human-like expressions were still foreign to him. It breaks his heart a little every time he gets reminded that nothing will be able to undo the damage done, that Connor will bear his trauma forever, …possibly. Gavin would always stay quiet, not finding the right things to say or do. Not today.

“I’m gonna go outside… to take a… breath.”

He isn’t sure Connor even registers his words.

“You… wanna go with?”

Still nothing.

“Connor.”

He stands up and gets as close as possible without trespassing the unspoken borders between them.

“Come with me, please.”

Their eyes meet for a split second and before he can catch up to the present moment they are already halfway out of the door.

Maybe he should use the magic word more often.

---

A blissful smoke fills his lungs, clouding over the pain and uncertainty that put him here in the first place. He relies on this wonderfully horrible sensation too much, but it’s better than the alternative.

“Liar.”

Yeah, he isn’t going to win any honesty awards in the near future, that’s for sure. But at least Connor is back to his old irreplaceable self, or he acts like he is.

There is a day old snow piled on the grassy patch beside the wall, reminding him of the photo Connor sent him yesterday. Of the tears and the desperation. How he wanted nothing but to be held by his friend. And now, when they’re so just inches apart, he’s too afraid to even look at him. He couldn’t just casually hug him without it meaning anything, because to Gavin, it would be worth everything. And if he lost that again,… no amount of nicotine would ever be enough to put him back together.  

“Must suck not having an unhealthy coping habit to solve all your problems.”

He can’t even begin to imagine what Connor must be going through.

“I wish you wouldn’t...” His cigarette gets forcibly removed from his mouth, the implications of which don’t translate to his ape brain right away, so his jaw is stuck to the ground while he watches Connor study the stolen smoke like it’s something he’s never seen before. “… have one.”

“Give it back.” He tries to get it back with his grabby fingers but Connor stops him by doing something even more unexpected.

He puts the whole cigarette in his mouth and makes some weird movements with his jaw. And just like that, the tube disappears.

The freaky bitch must have swallowed it whole.

He blinks rapidly to clear the brain fog suddenly threatening to limit his intelligence.

“What.”

Connor is towering in front of him without Gavin having any say about this scary development. His soft hands are holding Gavin by the shoulders like he wants to shake the soul of him, and maybe he does, because he looks him dead in the eye and quietly says:

“I don’t ever want to lose my unhealthy coping mechanism.”  

Connor’s fingers are boring into his jacket, probably damaging the leather, but all he cares about is the hurtful expression splitting him in half with an intent intensity.

Gavin has a million words lodged inside his throat, his own hands itching to return the contact. But there is never enough time to get his act together and put aside his inner coward.

“Sorry.” 

The touch is but a memory now as Connor is leaving him in alone in the cold place. The android even felt the need to apologise, like he did something wrong. That won’t do.

“Wait.” Gavin grabs him by the wrist, stops him in his tracks. His hands slide down on its own, a behaviour he doesn’t approve of but is unable to oppress. He can feel his own fingers trembling as they wrap around Connor’s ever so tentatively.

“You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

 He wishes he didn’t face the android’s back so he knew whether to take that promise back.

He wishes his voice didn’t crack so he could spare himself an ounce of embarrassment.

But most of all, he wishes Connor didn’t clutch his hand this hard so he could let go and pretend nothing that out of the ordinary has happened between them. 

@a-convin-new-year sorry it’s late ;D

[etherealwaifgoddess]

Adapting

Summary: Bucky tries adapting to the 21st century but finds the challenge too much for him. He loves Steve, but he can’t imagine ever fitting in to the modern world and it leads him to a drastic solution.

Content Warning: A very sad Bucky. Very brief mention of period-typical homophobia. Overall this one is a little angsty but it has a happy ending, promise. 

Word Count: 2.3k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies, it’s been a while! I’ve been trying to get back into the groove of writing over the past few weeks and that posed more challenging than I’d expected. I managed to get this little fic where I wanted it though and figured I’d share it while I try to wrap up all the other stuff I’m working on. Hope you all enjoy :)  XOXO - Ash

Adapting

After a few months of living in the twenty-first century Bucky found he both loved and hated it in turns. When he’d been cleared as completely deprogrammed and sent home to the states he thought he couldn’t have been luckier. He was finally a free man, from both the government and the decades of brainwashing. Bucky was looking forward to living with Steve again in Brooklyn, the two of them on their own and free to do whatever it was super soldiers do in retirement when they’re not even thirty yet. The world was his oyster, he thought to himself as they signed the lease on a cute little condo right in the heart of their old neighborhood. 

The glamour of the twenty-first century faded quickly as Bucky tried to adjust to everyday life. Steve, who had been doing well on his own for four years, was eager to help Bucky acclimate to the new century. Unfortunately, Steve took to that as he did with all things; barreling in head first all at once. Bucky needed time to adapt, he couldn’t just throw himself at something and become good at it like Steve could. As much as he loved Steve, and god did he ever love that man, it was hard keeping up a brave face. Even harder, was that the love he’d felt for Steve back in the 30s hadn’t diminished one bit. 

When they were young being gay was a death sentence. Something so secretive that even back alley whispers could ruin a man’s life. Bucky had known he was gay since he knew what it was to want someone in that way. And like most things in Bucky’s life, it all came down to Steve freaking Rogers. The fine boned little blonde who never knew when to quit, his giant spirit housed in such a delicate frame. Bucky never acted on his feelings, never dared to, but some days he wished he’d had. It had been enough though, the time they’d had together in their tiny apartment over the Miller’s garage. He knew it wasn’t a crime to be gay anymore. He’d caught on to that pretty quickly, thank you HBO, but he still couldn’t bring himself to share that truth with Steve. Maybe someday. Bucky needed time to process and evaluate before proceeding, just like everything else in his life. 

One of the first things Bucky really minded was the food. Steve had warned him that everything tasted a little different nowadays but claimed he’d get used to it. Steve loved all the different types of takeout you could get in the city, willing to try anything and everything. Bucky found he couldn’t get past how fake everything tasted, like he could sense the lingering chemicals. Steve continued to insist they’d find something Bucky liked, even trying to ply him with bags of candy and boxes of mass produced cookies, trying to cater to his sweet tooth. Bucky gave up finally after a week where he’d spent ninety percent of the time hangry. He headed down to the farmers market and loaded up on all organic produce and heritage bred meats. He found an artisanal bakery that used simple organic ingredients too. Bucky took to making his own food from his farmers market shopping trips and was finally able to enjoy a meal. Steve, bless him, continued to try and find things Bucky would like but it never seemed to work out. Bucky felt guilty every time he’d have to pass something back to Steve with a “no thanks, pal” and the light of hope in Steve’s eyes dimmed. 

Steve was quite attached to his iPhone and thought for sure Bucky would love one too. He came home one afternoon with a sleek, shiny, little phone for Bucky, handing it to him like it was something priceless. “It does everything, Buck. You’re gonna love it.” he insisted. Bucky did not love it. The tiny black device only served to piss Bucky off more than anything. He could never quite get the hang of navigating it and his fingers always felt too big when he was trying to type. He’d loved technology when he was younger but the phone was just a bridge too far, and one he was not ready to learn how to cross. “I’m a hundred goddamned years old, Steve. No, I don’t wanna learn how to tweet. I’ll leave that to the fucking birds.” he grumbled, throwing the phone down on the coffee table after yet another one of Steve’s well intentioned attempts at teaching Bucky how to use some annoying app. Steve let up after that, leaving Bucky to poke around on the phone only when he was willing. Bucky knew Steve was upset that his gift wasn’t well received, but he was too frustrated with himself and the whole situation to apologize. 

Socializing was even becoming unenjoyable for Bucky. He used to go out every weekend to the dance halls and, when they were flush, the bars or clubs. Bucky was always the life of the party with a dame or two hanging off his arm, while Steve had shied away, content in the shadows. The times had certainly changed. Steve was now the one urging Bucky to hang out with the team and go out to the movies, but Bucky couldn’t have had less interest. He didn’t want to hold Steve back, and he felt horribly guilty when Steve would give him that damned sympathetic smile and say “It’s okay, Buck. We can just stay in.” when he very clearly wanted to go out. Bucky just couldn’t seem to fit in. He didn’t get the jokes or share the same interests with anyone and it was exhausting trying to make it seem like he did. So he preferred to stay at home in their condo, reading books or watching documentaries on their ridiculously large TV. He did occasionally enjoy when Natasha would drop in. It was seldom, but sometimes the tiny redhead would drop in unexpectedly with some old fashioned, homemade, Russian dish tucked under her arm for him. They would sit in silence watching a documentary, not having to say a word. She would give him a gruff hug and then be on her way. It was perfect and Bucky enjoyed her drop ins more than he’d admit. 

Everything came to a head after Steve’s birthday party. It was a week from hell as far as Bucky was concerned. He’d wanted to get Steve new paints and canvases, the expensive ones he’d seen the blonde fawning over a few weeks prior. Buying the supplies involved either going out in public alone, not ideal, or internet shopping, even worse. He tried to get them online but gave up after an hour, wanting to smash the damned laptop. Forcing himself to go out in public when he was already in a foul mood served to be just as disastrous, but he made it somehow. Then there was the party. Steve deserved the biggest, grandest party a guy could ask for, as far as Bucky was concerned. He wanted the best for Steve, he just didn’t want to be part of it. Steve looked at Bucky like he’d kicked his puppy when Bucky had told him he didn’t think he would be attending. So Bucky had put on his brave face and joined in on the loud, obnoxious party on July 4th to celebrate. Every drunken laugh and cheer grated on his nerves but he was coping and was quick to smile and nod every time Steve would look over. The last straw was the damn fireworks. Bucky hadn’t even stopped to consider how he would be with the fireworks but he quickly learned he was very not okay. Steve was staring up at night sky like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, completely enraptured by the show. Bucky was digging his nails into his palms so hard blood trickled slowly down to his wrist, his whole body shaking uncontrollably. In between blasts, he miraculously managed to excuse himself for a bathroom break, and locked himself in the bathroom where he could fall apart for a few minutes. Maybe the shrink Steve had drug him to was right about the whole PTSD thing. Fuck. 

Bucky was certain when he woke up the morning after Steve’s party that he was ruining the other man’s life. There was no sugar coating it anymore, Bucky was bringing Steve down by being with him. Bucky didn’t think he’d ever adapt to this new world and he was so damned tired of trying. He wished they’d just left him on the ice in Wakanda until they needed him for a mission or something. It had worked out for the past seventy years, it would probably be better knowing it was the good guys pulling the strings now. Sure, Steve would miss him at first but Bucky was convinced it was for the best in the long run. Who needed a socially inept, only slightly stable roommate who couldn’t do anything on their own? And Steve, self sacrificing saint that he was, would never complain about it. Which honestly just made it worse. Even when Bucky had his low spells and would spend days on end curled up in bed, unable to even function, Steve was there to support him however he could. It was just too much to throw on the man, no matter how hard Bucky was trying or how much he loved him. 

“I think I need to go back on the ice.” Bucky said one night over dinner. He was only half way through his roasted chicken and potatoes but he couldn’t wait another minute.

Steve choked on his pad thai. “What?!” he yelped once his coughing fit had stopped.

“I need to go back on the ice.” Bucky was firm in his decision, “I’m not meant for this world, Steve. You know it as well as I do. So let’s save everyone the headache and put me back under. If the team ever needs me you can just bring me back out to help.”

“I’m gonna be sick.” Steve jumped up from his spot on the sofa and started pacing, running his hands roughly through his thick blonde hair. “If we did that to you we would be no better than Hydra. Do you get that?”

Bucky sighed heavily, he should have known Steve wouldn’t get it. “It’s nothing like Hydra. The Avengers are the good guys. I won’t be brainwashed or tortured or anything. I’ll just take a long, chilly nap and you guys can bring me out when you need me.” 

“I need you!” Steve cried, exasperated. 

“Stevie,” Bucky’s tone softened, pleading, “I’m ruining your life, pal. I can’t, I won’t, sit back and watch you give up this amazing life you could have if I wasn’t in it. I want you to be happy.” 

“That’s fucking rich.” Steve barked out a harsh laugh. His pacing stopped and he stood stock-still to stare a Bucky. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. “I just want you, Buck. How can you not see that? It’s only ever been you. Even when it was just you and me in that shitty little apartment in 1936, when we were so broke we couldn’t turn on the heat. I...” Steve’s voice broke with emotion and he shook his head. 

Bucky’s chest ached, terrified of what Steve was saying. It couldn’t be. “What are you tryin’ to say?”

Tears shone in Steve’s eyes. “I love you. I always have, and I guess I always will. I know you think you’re not adjusting to life now but you’ve only been here for six months. It took me a whole damn year to really get my bearings. I won’t give up on you. Not when I just got you back.” 

“How long?” Bucky cleared his rough voice, “How long have you felt that way?”

Steve shrugged, “Since forever, I guess. I’m sorry, I know you’re not-”

“I’m gay.” Bucky blurted out, cutting Steve off. “And I’ve loved you since the minute I could put a name to the feeling.” 

“Fuck.” Steve cursed, crossing the few feet to pull Bucky into his arms, “Fuck, we’re terrible at communicating.” He crashed his lips down on Bucky’s, frantic and desperate. 

It wasn’t a perfect first kiss but it was everything to Bucky. Steve’s warm palm rested on the back of Bucky’s neck, stabilizing him as he drowned in the other man. It was rough and heated and absolutely perfect. “I love you.” Bucky rasped out in between kisses, “I love so much.”

“Don’t leave. Please don’t leave me again.” Steve pleaded against Bucky’s lips, holding him closely, “We’ll figure it out, Buck. I promise. Please.” 

Bucky trembled, tears falling with giant sobs. He was so emotionally worn out and he clung to Steve like a lifeline. “Okay. We can try.” 

It took another six months and a few extra therapy sessions, but slowly Bucky began to adapt. It wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t quick, but that was okay. Change happened slow and gentle, like dawn rising up over the city rooftops bringing warmth and light to everything it touched. They found compromises and Steve did his best to be patient with Bucky, even though sometimes he practically vibrated out of his skin with the effort to slow down. They moved Bucky into Steve’s room and adopted a fluffy white cat they both doted on endlessly. Bucky eventually found common ground with Sam and they even made a weekend trip down to DC to visit him and do some sightseeing. After seventy years of being apart, and twenty years before that hiding their feelings, being able to be openly in love felt like the biggest blessing either man could have asked for. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but they were together and that was all that really mattered. 

[ladynuwanda]

Whatever Souls Are Made Of (Michael LangdonXMallory AU) - Chapter 2

A/N: I think it’s important that I make it clear that whatever mention to witches’ Lore in this chapter comes from the fact that I spent a good portion of my teenage years reading Marion Zimmer-Bradley’s books. They’re not really the product of a deep study of the history of witchcraft in Britain. (Any discrepancies are probably due to my own bad memory, they’re not from Ms. Zimmer-Bradlye’s work, though.)

Warnings: Just some good ol’ characterXcharacter smut. =)

Word Count: 2,3K

The problem with children is that they grow. And everything that was once pure and innocent is lost to the corrupted cynicism that becomes necessary for survival in adulthood. Misty Day was obviously the first to notice the changes that to come, and was quick to transfer Mallory to one of the larger bedrooms that would be shared by the other girls of her age, the new students. Like Miss Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt, a young witch from a noble family, who would soon become like a sister to Mallory.

The moment things started to change could almost be pinpointed to that first afternoon they spent in Thrushcross Grange, in the company of Lady Miriam Mead. Much to their surprise the lady offered them a kind welcome to her house, and took care of the two of them in a loving manner. Michael was visibly moved by the novelty feeling of having an adult taking care of him for the first time, but Mallory simply couldn’t make herself trust the lady. If anything her kindness seemed even more suspicious considering what they had done to her dogs just moments before.

While Mallory did her best to remove blood stains from herself, with a rag soaked in warm water that was given to her by Lady Mead, the mistress of the house said she wanted to have a word alone with Michael. After another quick silent debate with his best friend, that happened in the space of an exchanged glance, Michael told the lady he kept no secrets from Mallory. Whatever she had to say to him could be said in the girl’s presence. The connection they shared was so obvious to Lady Mead now that she was sitting in front of them, she immediately understood that there was no point in speaking to the boy in private, anyway.

She told them that Michael was special. He had magic in him, extremely powerful magic. In his heart, Michael felt it was true, but he couldn’t understand why Miss Cordelia, or Myrtle Snow, would have withheld this information from him. If he was so powerful, like the lady was saying, it was simply not possible that the witches didn’t know. Lady Mead explained that warlocks were considered a lesser class of magic practitioners by the witches. It wasn’t unusual for them to keep a boy like Michael from receiving warlock training by making him a servant.

On the other hand she, Miriam Mead, could help him awaken and develop his powers. She told him to place his right hand over Mallory’s ankle and try to heal it. Michael did as the lady told, but nothing happened. Whatever magic he had, he still had no control over it. He couldn’t find in himself the healing powers to help Mallory. An ice-cold glint appeared in the lady’s green eyes when he said he couldn’t perform healing magic, and the grin that came with it sent a shiver down Mallory’s spine. She reached out a hand, and healed her ankle herself, with relative ease, and reminded Michael that they should be returning to the Heights before nightfall.

They made most of their way back in silence. Michael was lost in his own thoughts, while Mallory’s heart was cold with a fear she couldn’t yet name. “You are not, are you? Accepting her offer?”, Mallory asked hesitantly, afraid to look into his eyes and see that his decision had already been made. “Mallory, you’re such a dedicated student... always willing to learn more and improve yourself. And yet, you don’t think I should work to develop my powers, if I have any?”, he looked at her and she saw the honesty of this question in his blue gaze, and how much he feared a negative answer from her. He could take it from anyone else, but not from Mallory.

“Of course I do, Michael! Your powers saved my life today! I just... I don’t trust that woman.”, she lightly shook her head and shrugged, a gesture that made her look like the little girl he had met five years before, and Michael had to repress the urge to take her in his arms again, hold her against his own chest, and tell her everything was going to be alright. He kept looking at his feet as he walked, deep in thought.

Michael knew Mallory was going to be the Coven’s Supreme one day. He didn’t think, he didn’t believe... he knew. He didn’t need to be told. It was certain as the sky above their heads and the earth beneath their feet. And where would he be when that happened? He wouldn’t even be her butler, her guardian, the head of the staff. That job would probably belong to Kyle Spencer by then. Michael would only be good to shine her boots, if that much. It would be degrading for the Supreme to be associated with someone like Michael.

Mallory was the only person that had ever truly cared about him in his entire life. And the only one he had ever cared about, too. The idea of not being good enough for her was simply intolerable. “You don’t need to trust her, Mallory, you just need to trust me. I’ll learn whatever I can from her,be the best warlock I can... but at the end of the day, I’m still going to be the same Michael.”, he held her hand in a reassuring gesture, and it almost brought peace to her heart again. But it didn’t change the fact that for the next five years, Michael would be spending most of his free time in Thrushcross Grange, taking lessons from that mysterious woman.

Mallory, in her turn, became the most brilliant student the Coven had ever seen. The most dedicated, the most enthusiastic... not to mention her natural talent. And in Michael’s absence, she learned to get along with other young witches like herself, and found out what it was like to have sisters. But none of them could ever occupy the place in her heart that belonged to Michael.

No one could tell for sure when it was that the nature of their affection for each other changed, not even Mallory and Michael themselves. It happened naturally, as part of the process of growing up. Suddenly being in each other’s company was no longer enough, they needed physical touch to feel anchored together. And then those touches were craved for more than just reassurance, they were born from the desire for one another.

And the two of them started a subtle dance of stolen glances and furtive smiles, in front of everyone else. The lingering brush of their hands as they walked past each other, with their fingers delicately entangled for the briefest moment, their cheeks blushing at the same time for the shared touch, identical smiles on their lips. The way Mallory searched for Michael’s approving eyes when he was around and she did something remarkably prodigious. The widest grin lighting up his face in response, that made his blue eyes sparkle with pure joy. The little presents he left where she could find. When Mallory would get caught up studying after hours in the library and missed a meal, he’d leave an apple, or some other fruit for her. On any given day, it wasn’t uncommon for Mallory to find her favourite flowers, freshly picked, in the most unusual places. And the secret kisses, in every opportunity, in all the secluded corners of the Manor, that felt like the very air they breathed came from each other’s lips.

Coco kept talking about the special gift Mallory could give Michael someday, but Mallory hated it when her Coco spoke in those terms. The idea that she would give something away to him, gave her the impression that she was about to lose something. And Mallory felt the opposite, she only had to gain by being intimate with Michael. After all, he would be giving it to her as well. It was a treasure they would be sharing. Nothing to lose. A lot to gain. And Mallory knew exactly when she wanted it to happen: on the day between the Spring Equinox and the Summer Solstice, Beltane, the fertility Sabbat.

Mallory wanted to give herself entirely to the man she loved the way the witches had done since the days of Avalon, as the Maiden Goddess being blessed by the seed of the Sacred King. It was as much an initiation ritual as it was an act of love. The Great Rite was a too ancient of a ritual, and too sacred, to be practiced inside temples built by men. She had seen Zoe and Kyle disappearing into the dark night, after the Maypole dance, on Beltane in other years. Leaving everyone else still celebrating life around the bonfire, they would be sheltered by the trees, performing one of the only kinds of magic you didn’t have to be a trained witch to perform.

Michael had built their own smaller bonfire and Mallory had made a circle around them in the clearing, by running a stick to the earth. She drew the proper symbols with the stick as well, and said the ritual words. They were just standing in front of each other, almost unable to breath, their hearts drumming in their own ears. They both wore the traditional flower crowns and white robes. Michael thought Mallory had never looked more beautiful, she was the Maiden Goddess herself. His sacred bride. It was like looking at the most precious jewel, he wanted to touch her with every fibre of his being, but he hesitated, afraid to cause any damage.

Michael had a powerful air of authority about him now, he looked positively regal. Mallory looked at the full moon above them when she heard the first notes of the music that was being played in the distance, asking the Goddess for her blessing. When she looked back at the blue eyes she loved more than anything else in the world, Michael read that love in her eyes and closed the small distance between them. Pulling her close by the waist, he kissed her like it was the first and the last time. Mallory responded with enthusiasm, her delicate fingers entangling in the golden curls of his hair.

Before they even knew what they were doing, that had already freed each other from the white robes. Michael’s lips found the soft flesh of her breasts, and he felt like he could just stay there forever. Their fingers were eager to explore the smooth uncovered skin, and they worshipped each other’s bodies with their lips. Mallory had never seen Michael, or any other man for that matter, naked before. She asked herself why people made such a taboo out of nudity. It was the most magnificent thing she had ever laid her eyes on. The real shame was that he would have to cover himself, on a daily basis.

Michael stopped for a moment, his hand on his beloved girl’s face, his lips slightly parted in wonder. Looking into Mallory’s eyes, he could see the stars reflected in that golden brown that made his heart sing. Mallory saw the light of the bonfire dancing in his blue eyes, and felt like her own body was being consumed by those flames. One hand on the back of his neck, she pulled him for another kiss and they slowly sank to the ground together. Mallory was lying on her back, with Michael on top of her, between her legs. He aligned himself to her entrance and looked at the face of the Maiden Goddess beneath his.

“I am the altar”, her gentle voice was firm with the power the Goddess gave her, but the sweet hand that touched his face was still the hand of his adored girl. “And I am the sacrifice”, he whispered entering her, a deep whimper escaping his lips. She didn’t feel any pain as he moved inside her, only pleasure. The sense of being whole for the first time in her life, of being exactly where she belonged. For Michael it felt like coming home, a home he didn’t even know he longed for. He lost himself to the rocking of her hips following his, the sweet moans she poured in his ears, as they danced the oldest of dances together, moving as one.

And in that moment they really were one. He was inside her and part of her at the same time, Michael couldn’t tell where he ended and she began. Mallory was him, as much as himself, but looking at her he could still marvel at the Goddess in her. Michael was her best friend, her brother, her lover, her other half... herself. As much the little boy she had met as a child, as a mighty king, or a god. As the pleasure was building up in the part of their bodies that was still just human, they started to move faster and harder, chasing their climax.

The sounds that left his throat were getting louder and more desperate, as her fingernails dug deeper in the soft skin of his back. When she came undone beneath his body, moaning softly with her eyes closed, her body arching in pleasure against his, he couldn’t hold himself any longer and spilled his seed deep inside her, with a groan. They remained there for a long time afterwards, shaking and catching their breaths. Tears were leaving their eyes, even though their hearts felt like they could burst with joy, and they shared passionate kisses, between alternated giggles and sobs.

That was the eve of Mayday 1790, probably the last perfectly blissful night before the Summer that changed everything. The Summer that would hit the entire Coven like a hurricane and leave no stone unturned, no life unsoiled. That night was the calm before the storm, and it was as perfect as the storm would be terrible.

Taglist: @blakewaterxx @ccodyfern @consultingsnowqueen @coollangdon @crossdressingpirate @hecohansen31 @kalam22 @kirchnvrs @lathraios @laying-with-the-devil @mega-combusken @michael-langdon-appreciation @mvllorylvngdon @mytrash-mylife @no-need-for-rules @queen-of-quotes @rosegoldrichie @sophiegracejreylo @suspirateux @tayfinities @touch-in-the-night @wvntersldr

[solastia]

Tuqburni Drabble #2

Move In & The Anniversary - Jimin’s POV

Word Count: 2,013

AN: Just a little drabble (Not really a drabble, since it’s so long, but I didn’t know what else to call it since it’s an alternate POV chapter. A vignette? I dunno) to help me get back into the Tuqburni world. Mentions of previous smut scenes. 

The weeks before he’d moved in had contained some of the most awkward moments of Jimin’s life. He’d readily agreed when Noona had asked for the time, knowing that it was the smart thing to do, but that hadn’t made it any easier. He was still the interloper ruining a perfectly good three year long relationship - nevermind that he’d been with Yoongi for seven years before that. 

He couldn’t help but admire her as she kept her cool during such a strange situation, and it made him more determined to be as respectful as possible. He maintained his physical distance from Yoongi - even though that was extremely difficult. He grilled Yoongi on her favorite treats and drinks so he could always bring something she liked when he was invited to dinner. He even tried to quietly ask her questions to draw her into their conversations, but he usually only got an extremely fake looking polite smile along with a vague answer. 

Still, he found himself watching her more and more, enjoying the little things he was able to learn. Like how much she liked cooking and absolutely preened whenever Yoongi told her something was delicious. She loved Disney movies and could be heard humming the songs while she prepared dinner. She adored animals and treated their dog Holly like he was an actual child, which was cute to watch when she was dressing the poor thing up and cooing at it. 

He also noticed all the little ways that she took care of Yoongi - from massaging his neck and shoulders after a long day in the studio to going all out and preparing baths for him. She left love notes in his wallet for him every day. And she was so full of encouragement and praise for him. Jimin had never heard someone go out of their way to build someone up to the extent that she did. 

Jimin could admit that he was becoming a little fascinated by her. Perhaps even a bit jealous that while Yoongi received all that pampering and praise, all he got were brittle smiles and troubled eyes. Not that he blamed her, of course, but he was a selfish man and she was a stunning and obviously kindhearted woman. It was hard not to pay attention to her, no matter their strange situation. It probably didn’t help that he didn’t think that Yoongi was paying proper attention to her, but he didn’t know how to bring it up, or if it was his place. If he tried to talk to Yoongi about it she’d probably just resent him even more. 

When the move in day came, he could practically see the melancholy cloud above her head as they scattered his belongings around the house, and he hated himself. He wished he was strong enough to stay away, to give up Yoongi to the new life she’d built for him, but he couldn’t. His time away had simply proven that Yoongi was it for him. So he convinced himself it was okay since she didn’t say no. That he’d just work hard to make sure he upset her as little as possible. That maybe someday they could at least be friends. 

That night as they’d all gone to the bedroom, he’d seen her laying on her side of the bed with her hair spread across the pillow and the straps of a black silk nightie poking out from under the sheets, her nervous glance burning into his before he’d turned out the lights. He knew she’d seen him blush, but he was sure she didn’t know why. Probably thought it was just him being shy when the real reason was because the sight of her laid out like that send blood rushing straight to his dick. 

That’s when he’d realized his fascination with her was going beyond curiosity and admiration, growing into genuine attraction as well. He’d known she was pretty, of course, but this was the first time he’d wondered what it would be like with her. He wondered if someday she’d stop hating him enough that something like that could be possible. 

When Yoongi had begun teasing him later that night, he’d tried to hold off. He really had thought of her and hadn’t wanted to hurt her feelings any more than he already did just by being here, but he had missed Yoongi so much. When those fingers had started touching him as Yoongi had confidently reacquainted himself with Jimin’s weak spots, he was unable to turn him away. He knew it was probably wrong to get right to it without talking about things or at the very least asking if Noona wanted to join. But he let Yoongi turn him into a whimpering mess anyway, and hoped that they wouldn’t wake her up to spare her the hurt it would probably cause. He’d cum with Yoongi deep inside him and his nose buried in the pillow drenched with Noona’s violet perfume. 

Then had come the morning he’d found the basketball tickets. 

He’d assumed it was just going to be another day like the past few, where they’d get ready for work in near silence and not speak again until they returned home and pretended everything was okay. However, from the moment he’d woken up to discovered Yoongi had already left for the shower, things were different. He’d timidly shuffled towards the delicious smell wafting from the kitchen, sitting when Noona had told him to as she passed him a plate. The pancakes were chocolate chip and shaped like a heart, even covered in strawberries and whipped cream. This was nothing like their usual breakfasts of soups and stew, or cereal if they were running behind. It looked special, but he couldn’t think of a reason why. 

He couldn’t help but compliment her cooking, even though he knew all he’d probably get was a hum or gentle grunt in response. Instead, she surprised him by gracing him with the first genuine smile he’d seen on her. And it was glorious. She was already pretty, but when she smiled she was simply breathtaking. He supposed she liked her food complimented enough to overlook who it was coming from. All he knew was he wanted to see her smile like that again. 

When he’d seen the glitter covered card in the trash can, he’d assumed it had been knocked in there on accident while she was cooking. He knew that he’d fucked up yet again, however, when her face had drained of color as he’d handed it to Yoongi. When Jimin saw the tickets, he was just more confused. Fancy pancakes and basketball tickets? That sounded like something important was going on. Yoongi didn’t seem overly concerned though, so he didn’t say anything until the other left, despite the pain he saw in Noona’s eyes. 

This game was obviously important to her.  He hadn’t thought her the sports type, but her eyes were welling with tears that she was trying to keep him from seeing. So he thought about it and figured this was his chance. An opportunity to do something for her for once, after she’d sacrificed so much for his own selfish desires. And maybe, just maybe, it could be a real date. A chance for them to connect and make this relationship work between a little better between all three of them. So he’d offered to take her and he’d meant every word about being serious. He’d had expected her to put up a bigger fight or outright reject the idea, but he’d been pleasantly surprised when she agreed. 

That entire day had been incredible, and Jimin realized that it had been a very long time since he’d even been on an actual date. He wondered when the last time was that she’d been on one herself. They should have started out like this, with cute little dates out instead of going straight to hanging around their home to get comfortable enough to sleep in the same bed. 

Noona had been full of genuine smiles and laughter, had even let him wrap his arms around her waist to draw her closer to him. He’d felt proud to have her at his side, proud that she was there with him even as damned celebrities were trying to attract her attention. Seeing that side of her was a revelation, and he had no clue why she’d put up with their shit if she could have people like Gong Yoo if she wanted. Jimin considered Yoongi worth putting up with this for, but that fact that she obviously thought so too put things in a new light for him. 

As the night had worn on, he’d found himself hoping that she thought of this like a real date as much as he did. He had even been brave enough to hold her hand somehow, and he’d been thrilled when she hadn’t pulled away. After their talk in the car, he even let himself start to genuinely look forward to a future with her in it. She was still hurt and had every right to be, but seemed more open to the idea of him. 

Then that night happened. God, he could still smell her violet scented skin against his and taste her in his mouth. He’d been so surprised when Yoongi had started a freaking threesome as soon as they got home, but not as much as he’d been when she’d agreed to it. He still didn’t know why she had, but at the first sighting of her lace covered breasts, he didn’t let himself question it. She was perfect from head to toe and he was surprised by how much he wanted her. 

When she’d stood naked before him, next to an equally unclothed Yoongi, he swore that he’d never seen two more beautiful people and he wanted nothing more than to be a part of them. Perhaps it was his dick doing the talking, he didn’t know, but he thought it felt right being with them. He still wanted her to feel comfortable and wanted, so he had focused completely on her instead of Yoongi, letting her use him as she pleased. He’d been so surprised by how into it she’d been, but he also supposed it had been a while for her. Regardless, he thought it amazing and he hoped it wasn’t just a one time thing, that letting him touch her meant she wanted him too. Because, fuck, he wanted more. 

He wanted to have more sex like that, yes, but he also wanted her to let him cuddle her after. He wanted to make her laugh and smile instead of cry. He wanted to take her on more real dates where they walk around hand in hand, maybe with Yoongi along next time. 

When Yoongi had first suggested the idea of polyamory, Jimin had been a skeptic. He loved Yoongi with his entire being. How could Yoongi possibly love two people exactly the same? He still wasn’t a hundred percent certain if this will actually work out, but Jimin is beginning to think he might understand a little better now, as Noona was slowly but surely carving a place in his heart whether she wanted it or not. 

[theycallmebecca]

Angst, lots and lots of angst. It’s up to you if you want to give it a happy ending or not. I’m thinking something happens to the reader and Chris, worries. Or you could do something about comic con, because it is my goal to get to one someday, regardless of who is there. :)

So this is the very last drabble for the Becca’s on Vacation: Prompt Me! collection (it only took me two extra weeks to finish…) Anyway! You asked for angst… and angst you shall receive. Thanks to @heather-lynn​ for her encouragement on this one.

Title: What He Lost

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: angst

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

Chris had called and you had come to his house.

Like always.

Except this time, you hadn’t come for a booty call.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you told him as the two of you stood in his entry hall. You kept your eyes on your hands, knowing that if you looked up at him, you would lose all your courage.

“Can’t do what?” he asked, reaching a hand out to lift your chin, but you batted it out of the way. “What’s going on? I thought we had a good thing.”

“We did until I fell in love with you,” you told him, finally finding the strength to look him in the eye. You saw him flinch at your words and knew you’d been right in your suspicions. While you’d been falling in love with him, Chris had just been fucking you. “I don’t expect anything from you, Chris, I knew the score when we started.” Reaching into your pocket, you took out the key he’d given you and held it out to him.

Silently, he took the key from you and then watched you leave his house for the last time.

—

It took Chris a few weeks to realize what he’d lost when you’d walked out his door.

At first, he just went about his life, without you. It wasn’t like you were the only woman he knew. But then little things started to change. Food lost its taste. His usual one or two beers became four or five. And worst of all, none of the other women he called turned him on like you did.

Then one night, while he was sitting at home in his darkened living room, he came across a movie you loved on TV. He found himself unable to change the channel. For the first time in weeks, he found himself able to smile and even chuckle.

He woke up the next morning with a hangover and the realization that he missed you. He tried to ignore the feeling, figuring that it was just a result of the movie he’d watched the night before. But as the days went on, you were constantly on his mind.

In a moment of weakness, he gave into temptation and called you. But the call went straight to voicemail and he hung up without leaving a message.

—

Life post Chris wasn’t easy, but you felt proud of yourself for taking control of your life. And you kept with that theme, trying new hobbies and throwing yourself into new activities with friends. It didn’t keep the blues away, especially at night, but it made it easier to sleep.

For the first week or so, you kept Chris’s phone number in your phone just in case he reached out. But your friends encouraged you to both block and delete his number from your phone to cut him completely out of your life.

Ultimately, you decided not to delete his phone number from your phone, but you did block it. And before you deleted the text messages the two of you had exchanged, you took some time to read through them. It was both painful and healing to read them. It made you miss him like crazy, but it was only further confirmation that you needed to let him go completely.

—

Chris was driving himself crazy trying to get a hold of you. He’d tried to call multiple times, but his calls always went to voicemail and you wouldn’t respond to his texts.

His brain told him to just let it go and move on, just like you had. But his heart was breaking because he’s realized way too late that he was in love with you, too. The realization only made him more depressed and he wallowed in self pity.

It was his brother, Scott, that finally helped him snap out of it. He forced Chris to take a shower and then helped him pick up the house. It was only then, over bottles of water, that Chris opened up about what was going on.

After hearing him out, Scott told him to seek you out. Pointing out that the worst you could do was tell him you never wanted to see him again.

So the next day, Chris went to your house and waited for you get home from work. But the usual time you got home came and went without you arriving, leaving him sitting there as it got dark.

—

You noticed the person on your front steps the second you pulled into your driveway and you felt your stomach jump to your throat. Unsure of what to do, you turned on your porch light from your phone, hoping the sudden brightness would startle the person and make them leave.

The light did startle the person from a light sleep, you realized, but it also revealed that your mystery guest was Chris. You weren’t sure if that fact worried you more or if it made the situation less scary.

Minutes ticked by as you sat in your car and he sat on your porch. He’d taken the first step and your gut told you that he wouldn’t do anything else until you either met him halfway or asked him to leave. Sucking in a deep breath, you grabbed your purse and your leftovers from dinner then got out of the car.

“Hi,” you said, timidly as you approached him. “What are you doing here?”

“Taking a chance I know I don’t deserve,” he replied, his tone honest and pure. “You were the best thing in my life and I didn’t realize it until you were already gone.”

“Chris, please -”

“Just hear me out before you say anything, ok?” he pleaded.

You sighed, but nodded your head.

—

He’d known this wouldn’t be easy, but he hadn’t realized just how hard it would be. He spent the last three hours practicing what he was going to say over and over, but the words failed him now, when it really counted.

Taking a deep breath, he let the words come from his heart.

“My parents divorce rocked me to my very core,” he confessed. “I was just out of high school, had just moved out to LA, and the world was my playground. Then I got the news from home and then the show was cancelled and it felt like the rug had been pulled out from under me. And I was mad at everyone for every reason you can imagine.”

He paused, watching you as you sat down on the bottom step of your porch stairs. It was positive progress.

“I ended up working a lot of my anger issues out in therapy,” he continued his story. “But not even therapy could heal my belief in a forever love. And in LA, no one believes in forever. Or if they do, forever isn’t a very long time. So it was easy to go from fling to fling. That got old after awhile and then I ended up with a girlfriend or two, but I never really loved any of them. I enjoyed being with them, but I never saw myself settling down long term.

“Then I came back home and I met you,” he said. “You didn’t like me at first and looking back, I can’t say I blame you. I won you over, though, and we became friends. Then a couple years ago, lines got tangled and we became friends with benefits. I knew from the very beginning that things were different between you and I than anything else I had ever experienced, but I convinced myself that it was because we were friends first and it wasn’t just about sex between us.”

He paused to gauge your reaction. His gut told him that what he said next would make or break the whole situation.

“I’ve spent the last four weeks trying to get used to not having you in my life and it has been the worst 32 days and 20 hours of my life,” he confessed. “I don’t blame you for walking away, I was an asshole. I was worse than an asshole, actually. I was the scum -”

“Chris, I get it,” you interrupted. “You were an asshole.”

He nodded his head and continued, “I didn’t realize how entwined our lives had become until you were suddenly gone. My energy and my passion for life came from experiencing things with you and that got lost when you left. I tried to figure it out on my own, but I ultimately realized that I don’t want to do things without you.”

—

You sucked in a breath as his words echoed through the yard. You were almost certain that he’d say those three big words next.

“I want you in my life,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I want to be with you, but my heart still isn’t healed enough to tell you those words.”

His last confession surprised you and you found yourself moving up to the step that he was sitting on. You took one of his hands and held it in between your own as he continued talking.

“I care more about you than I have anyone else in my entire life,” he said with a sniffle as tears dripped from his eyes. “The thought of giving someone my heart has scared me since I was 18, but living without you scares me more. Will you give me a chance to prove that I am worthy of your love?”

It was a hard question to answer. Your brain screamed no, throwing all the efforts you’d taken to get over him in your face. But your heart said yes. Common sense told you it was a gamble, but you knew Chris and you trusted him. He wouldn’t be here now if he didn’t believe what he was telling you.

“Yes, I will,” you finally answered him.