#“I will burn the world for her” HELL YEAH SEV

[mitsuki91]

WTF THIS IS FUCKING SEVERUS IN MY LAST FUCKING STORY I AM NOT WELL NOW HELP-

[wordsgood]

aro/ace oc appreciation post time because i need to feel joy again

it's best to just assume that all of my ocs are aro and/or ace until proven otherwise. tbh. that said let's go

lev (deep six) my best aroace girl! she loves her brothers so much! possibly a little too much judging by the murder! but it's okay, she was raised a teenage assassin, it's just how she grew up. not her fault that one of her love languages is "cold protective lethality."

chance (deep six) it's possible that chance would have been allo, and i don't think his sexuality is easily defined anyway (queer is probably the best word for him) but post-canon he's probably ace/demi out of trauma.

sixes (deep six) ACE BOY ACE BOY. my favorite foul-mouthed trans ace sex-repulsed vampire boy. don't even THINK about getting weird over the blood-drinking thing around him. you will get cussed out.

sevens (deep six) yeah the entire deep six gang is ace, what about it! sev is the most sex-favorable out of all of them but also Does Not Understand attraction to an unfathomable degree, even to sixes. he's the kind of ace who thinks attraction is fake until VERY late in the game.

loreleaf (prophecy trilogy) MY ORIGINAL GAYCE, my best sweetheart. loreleaf is sex neutral and probably closer to demi but has such a terrible relationship with his body that he probably doesn't make peace with that until. like. late twenties, at the earliest.

doli lin (prophecy trilogy) (the prophecy trilogy has 8 major characters and 4 of them are aro. buckle up.) aro/demi/sex favorable. his queerplatonic life partner soulmate was his entire world, he has Not been completely healthy or sane since tomi's death.

tomi (prophecy trilogy) speaking of whom! the designated Haunting The Narrative character, tomi was wildly romantic and in love w/ doli lin but, as i said in another post, he was Ace As Hell. never asked for or wanted romance in return, was happy with being loved in doli lin's own way long as they were together.

ashleah (prophecy trilogy) AROACE LEGEND, obsessed with portal fantasy literature. designated Genre Savvy character of the 2nd prophecy book. she and loreleaf end up in what might be called a qpr, though they never really label it.

sophie (prophecy trilogy) my baby aro!! sophie is fifteen, the little sister of the story. she's still working through some things, because she's a kid, but meeting all the other prophecy aros helps her come around to embracing all her aro possibilities.

robyn (prophecy trilogy) aaaand my enby aro! robyn has a very soothing, comforting presence (their Fantasy Radiation gift is a gentle glow). they aren't looking for qprs or anything, they just love their new friends.

dantay (bitter magic) gay aro princey boy! probably some flavor of ace, too, but he doesn't really, like... do self-reflection and has not come to any conclusions on that front. he's too busy avoiding the subject of political marriage as long as he can, not because he objects to political marriage as a concept but because marriage makes him think of romance and sex and heirs and That Just Won't Do.

luz (bitter magic) (honorable mention) is luz aro? probably not. is luz ace? could be, could not be. does she care which? no! she's writing treatises on ghost magic and the cursed relics of the city of burning gold! she's BUSY. (she and dantay eventually arrange their own marriage of convenience. he doesn't have to worry about anything Weird because she's too busy taking advantage of his royal wealth and diving into the highest echelons of high fantasy al-andalus's magical academia. she'll figure out how to make a baby for the whole heir thing without either of them having to so much as disrobe.)

[mila-dans]

The Cross and the Grave

One shot: The Cross and the Grave

Takes place in alternate universe where Dean is an angel of the Lord and Castiel is a human hunter. Based on “Lazarus Rising.”

Word Count: 2000

(Thanks for the gif: @unicorncastiell​ )

Crawling out of a grave isn’t exactly what you think your first moments conscious would be, but for Jimmy Novak, this was exactly how it happened when he woke up this morning. Only four months ago did he have an encounter with hellhounds resulting in his soul being sent downstairs. A hunter making a demon deal doesn’t sound very plausible but when it comes to the Novak's, anything is possible. Especially when it involves saving their loved ones. 

Gabriel, Jimmy, and Anna Novak. They were closer than peas in a pod. It wasn’t always like that though. Before, Anna was studying to become a teacher while Gabe was studying the curves of every body that ended up in his clutches. Jimmy on the other hand, Jimmy continued what the three of them and their father started. The family business: saving lives and killing the bad guys. The three were raised like warriors, assassins. Their dad was not what you’d call a good one. It was always his way or the highway. Gabe grew up listening to his father and respecting him. It wasn’t until little Anna rebelled and left that he decided to reevaluate his life. With two children gone, the one and only father, Chuck Novak, decided to be more hands on with the affairs of his son. The only one that stayed. Jimmy and his father spent years, side by side, fighting demons and slaying monsters. Sure the team was smaller and Jimmy couldn’t quite understand why his brother and sister left, but this was his job. This was his life. He had to do it. No matter how many mistakes he made or how much pain was caused by him, he would never stop trying to fix it. Try to make it better. 

Long story short, no matter how long it had been since he saw his siblings or how bad on terms they were, when it came to looking for his father, he couldn’t do it alone. After recruiting his reluctant family, the Novak's were back in action. They lost some and won some. But last year, they lost a lot more than they could handle. They lost Anna. It took a toll on the brothers. A dead sister who had her whole life ahead of her. Gabriel could only take it with a couple cases of whisky and a handful of hookers. But Jimmy? Well, he couldn’t take it at all. Selling his soul for her life was stupid. Not as stupid as what he was about to do now, but it sure was stupid. He had a year to live. A year to watch the clock ticking on his life. Gabriel tried to give his brother the fun and crazy life that Jimmy had always missed out on while Anna did everything she could to fix it. Jimmy knew that he was going to hell and there was no stopping it. It didn’t matter what Anna dug up or what Gabriel threw at him as a distraction, he knew that his next stop would be his last. 

Jimmy spent his last year filled with blood and gut covered hands. Within the last hour of his life, he tried to ice the demon Lilith but instead lost his chance at the bitch and lost his soul to a whole different bitch. But after four months down in the fiery depths, he pulled a full Lazarus and now he stands with the demon blade in hand, alongside his brother, getting ready to summon whatever the hell it was that pulled him up in the first place. 

“You ready?” Jimmy asks.

“In order to be ready, I think we’d at least have to know what exactly to be ready for,” Gabe answers with his undoubtedly nervous tone.

The brothers were about to summon the being that brought up Jimmy from the pits. Thanks to an old “friend” of Gabriel’s, they got a name: Deontavious. And it only cost them a pair of eyes. Whatever this thing was, it wasn’t just an average pay-grade demon. Hell, they don’t even know if it is anything close to a demon. It had the strength to bring someone back to life. That kind of fire power wasn’t something that they had seen before or ever even heard about.

Gabe finished spraying some sigils on the wall of the old barn. The barn was courtesy of yet another “friend” of his. If you weren’t a friend of Gabriel Novak, you were an enemy. And let’s just say, he didn’t have too many of those. At least not any that were alive more than a week. If you ever think that Jimmy or Anna are the bad ones, just wait till you get on the bad side of eldest Novak. And boy was he creative.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Gabriel asks. He knows he doesn’t want to but he also knows how stubborn his brother is. Jimmy looks at Gabe as if they hadn’t just spent the last two hours prepping for their meeting.

“Yes!” Jimmy answers. He rolls his eyes and goes to place his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Yes, alright?” Gabriel looks at him with uncertainty. “Listen, Gabe, we know that crap is happening all over in the supernatural world and the least we can do is figure out what type of crap we are in first. Okay?” Jimmy looks at him waiting for a response.

“It sounds like a load of crap to me,” Gabriel responds with a smirk. Jimmy sighs in annoyance. They continue to wait for about a half hour under the flickering light bulbs and in the sound of sarcastic comments from the eldest brother.

“Did you do it right?” Gabe asks.

“Wha--You did the ritual! I should be asking you if it was done right!”

“Oh, yeah,” Gabriel lets out. He nods a little and becomes caught up in his own train of thought. Jimmy gives his brother a questioning look.

“So? Did you do it right?!”

“Yeah!” Gabriel responds with a defensive tone. “I’m like, eighty-seven percent sure that I did it right.” Jimmy gives Gabe a glare.

“Eighty-seven percent? Eighty-sev--Gabe!” Gabriel throws his hands up in defense as Jimmy takes a step closer. “How are you not sure if this was right or not?!”

As if on cue, a thunder cloud rolls over the barn. The brothers look up to the sky and see the dark fog setting over them. Lighting starts to strike as the doors start to slam.

“Just the wind?” Gabriel asks with a tremble in his voice and a shy smile on his face. Jimmy gives his brother another glare. The attention shifts back to the shaking barn doors as the clattering gets louder and louder.

With a sudden bash, the doors fall to the floor. The boys grab their guns and start to shoot at the silhouette of a man. The man doesn’t flinch, but instead, he walks closer and closer to the brothers as every light bulb shatters above him. 

The man is in a blue suit with a shirt in only a lighter shade and a tie to match. His eyes are a shade of jade and his light brown hair is in a short cut. The man has a sharp jaw and a bit of freckles across the bridge of his nose and to his cheeks. 

As the brothers run out of ammo, they stare in amazement of the bulletproof entity before them.

“Who are you?” Jimmy asks as he takes a step back to question whether to run for his life or die in a blaze of glory.

“I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition,” the man answers in a deep voice.

“Yeah,” Jimmy chuckles, “Thanks.” When the man gets within arms reach of Jimmy, the middle Novak takes his chance, stabbing the creature with the demon blade straight in his heart. The man looks as Jimmy confused while the brothers stare in fear of the being as he pulls the knife from his chest, causing it to clatter on the floor. The man then walks toward Gabriel and places two fingers to his head, causing him to fall to the ground.

“We need to talk, James,” the man insists.

Jimmy rushes to his brother to check his pulse. The man walks over to the weapons table and starts to stab himself with the weaponry as to see if it will penetrate his skin or even cause a scratch.

“You’re brother, Gabriel, is fine.” Jimmy glares at the man and stands up. “I only made him unconscious,” he gives a cheap smile. 

“Why?!” Jimmy demands as his face becomes stricken with rage. “Who are you?!”

“I am Deontavious,” he answers.

“So I’ve heard. But what the hell are you?!”

“I am an angel of the Lord, James.” Deontavious looks at Jimmy and smiles proudly.

“Angel, my ass,” Jimmy chuckles. “What are you really?”

“I told you,” he replies, taking a step closer to Jimmy to lean in and look at his eyes. Jimmy stands frozen. “Yet, you don’t believe me. You have no faith.”

“Oh, I have faith, alright. I have faith that angels are as real as unicorns. That’s my faith.” Deontavious smirks at Jimmy and takes several steps back. Out of his sleeve, he holds a silver blade. The lights flash in the room, then go out all together. A blue light emits from Deontavious’s eyes and a shadow of wings extend on the wall behind him. The thunder crashes as lightning strikes. 

The lights turn back on and the storm stops.

“So an angel burned out an innocent woman’s eyes?” Jimmy questions as Deontavious returns to a relaxed state. 

“I warned her not to look in on my true form. The sight, the sound, it is overwhelming to humans. You know that though.”

“Wait, so you’re telling me that what happened back at the gas n’ sip and--and the motel was you just being you?”

“If it makes it easier to see it that way, then yes.”

“Then what is this?” Jimmy points at Deontavious. “How am I able to see you now?”

“It is because this is not me. This is a vessel.” Deontavious runs his hands through his hair.

“Possession? You’re possessing someone?!”

“Yes. But it is not like you think. This man, Dean,” Deontavious examines his body, “He was suffering. Struggling to make ends meet, as you would say. I only asked him if I could use his life, his body, for the greater good. He was the one who accepted.”

“Well, Dean is better than Deontavious. I’ll give you that much. But tell me, what are you, really?”

“I already told you, James,” Dean replies with a confused look.

“An angel. Right. But see, why in the world would an angel rescue me from hell?” Jimmy asks.

“Haven’t you heard of good things happening?” 

“Sure, to good, all American people, which is a group that I don’t belong to.” Jimmy crosses his arms as Dean walks closer to him. He stares in his face once more, looking down into his eyes.

“What is it? Do you not think that you deserve to be saved?” He asks. Jimmy tightens his jaw and takes a deep breath.

“Why?” Jimmy asks with a deep tone.

“Because, James, God commanded it. We have work for you.”

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Thanks for reading!

[daryls-dixon-antoni]

Chapter 37.) Rock in the Road

We're in Gregory's office trying to get him and his people to help us take down Negan.

"No! No way in hell."

"We had a deal with you!" I snap, but at Daryl's glance I lean back against the wall.

"That was not the deal. You people swore you could take the Saviors out, and you failed. So any arrangement we had is now done. Null and void. We aren't trade partners, we aren't friends, and we never met. Hmm? We don't know each other." He sits down, "I owe you nothing. In fact, you owe me for taking in the refugees, at great personal risk."

"Oh, you were very brave staying in here while Maggie and Sasha saved this place. Your courage was inspiring." Jesus speaks up.

"Hey, don't you work for me? Aren't we friends?"

"Gregory," Rick starts. "We already started this."

"You started it."

"We did. And we're gonna win."

"These are killers-"

"Is this how you want to live Under their thumb, killing your people?"

"S-Sometimes we don't get to choose what our life looks like. Sometimes, Ricky, you have to count the blessings you have."

Maggie steps forward, "How many people can we spare? How many people here can fight?"

"'We'?" Gregory scoffs. "I don't even know how many people we have, Margaret. And does it even matter? I mean," he scoffs again, "W-w-what are you gonna do? Start a platoon of sorghum farmers? 'Cause that's what we got. They grow things. They're not gonna want to fight."

"You're wrong," Tera argues. "When people have the chance to do the right thing, they usually step up. I mean, people just-"

"L-Let me stop you before you break into song, okay?" Gregory clears his throat. "And, by the way, who would train all this cannon fodder?"

"I will." Sasha says at the same time Rosita also speaks.

"Give me a week."

Gregory answers in a sing song voice, "Rhetorical, okay" he continues in a normal voice, "I don't want to know. I never want to hear another word about any of it, ever."

"Would we be better off without the Saviors, yes or no?" Rick yells.

"Yeah. Sure. Okay."

"So," Michonne asks, trying to bring the meeting back to a civilized conversation. "What will you do to fix the problem?"

"I didn't say we had a problem. You did. And what happens outside of my purview is outside of my purview."

"What the hell, man?" Daryl snaps, and I look up at him, he has Hope in his arms, but he still looks terrifying. "You're either with us or you ain't. You're sitting over there talking out of both sides of your mouth."

"I," Gregory starts again, "I think I've made my position very clear. And I want to thank all of you for not being here today and not having this meeting with me or... or being seen on your way out. In other words, go out the back."

I turn on my heels and storm out, I can hear my group following me, hear Rosita's comment of, "Walking ballsack."

"Wanna knock that idiot's teeth out," agrees Sasha.

Once we get out of the office Daryl says, "Yeah, well, we don't need him anyway."

"Yeah, that's right." Rick agrees, "'Cause we have Maggie and Sasha and Jesus here."

As the entry doors open Maggie adds, "And Enid."

"Hey, um-" Enid starts.

"What's wrong?" Sasha asks, worried.

"Nothing. Just," she chuckles, "Come outside."

We walk outside to see a group of people standing out front, "What's going on?" Maggie asks.

"Hey... So, if you don't remember, I'm Bertie. And I owe my life to you all, twice over. A bunch of us do. Enid says that you want Gregory to get us to fight the Saviors with you. Is that true?"

"Yes."

"Do you think we can win, that we really could beat them? Us?"

"I do."

She sighs, "Well, Enid says you could show us the way. I'm ready."

The rest of the group agrees.

We start walking towards the gate, Michonne speaks up, "It's a start."

"Not enough," I comment.

"We'll get more," Sasha says.

"It still won't be enough," Michonne agrees with me.

"No, it won't." Rosita also agrees.

"Well," Daryl starts, glancing down at me, "We find the right stuff, then maybe we don't need the numbers. Blow 'em up, burn 'em to the ground."

"You said there weren't just soldiers with the Saviors, that there were workers there. People didn't have a choice." Tera asks.

"We gotta win," Daryl says.

"We need more hands," Rick states. "Another group. Negan has outposts. The geography, the distance works against us. We gotta get back. If they come looking for Daryl, we need to be there."

"You don't have to get back," Jesus argues, taking out the walkie talkie he took from the Compound. "Not yet. It's one of theirs, long range. We can listen in, keep track of them."

"So, if we're not going back," Michonne asks, "What are we doing, then?"

"I think it's time we introduced you to Ezekiel. King Ezekiel."

"King?" Rick asks.

We pull over and Rick and Jesus get out of the car, I look at everyone, "A king? Some guy calls himself a King so we go running? And what kind of name is Ezekiel?"

"Anne," Daryl snaps, before opening the car door and leans out asking, "Hey, what the hell we waitin' on?"

"Waiting for them," Jesus responds and points to two men approaching on Horses.

The younger of the two puts on a phony extravagant voice that sounds like something you'd hear in a play, "Who dares to trespass on the sovereign land of the-" the phony voice is dropped, "Oh, shit. Jesus, is that you?"

"Who are all these people, Paul?" The other man asks Jesus, using his real name.

"Hi, Richard. Nice to see you."

I get out of the car behind Daryl, as 'Richard' responds. "It's good to see you, too. Your friends, who are they?"

Jesus points to Rick, "This is Rick Grimes. He's the leader of a like-minded community. These are some of his people. We would like to request an audience with King Ezekiel."

"Get out of the car," the man requests. Everyone else leaves the car as he continues. "You say they're a like-minded community. Like-minded how?"

"We live, we trade, we fight the dead. Sometimes others."

"Line up," Richard orders.

"I feel like I just walked into a bad LARP Fair." I mutter.

"Yeah, okay. This is a waste of time. Come on. Let's go." Daryl agrees with me.

"Maybe you're right," Richard says. "The King is a busy man. And it's a dangerous world. We don't usually allow a pack of strangers to waltz through our door."

"We want to make the world less dangerous," Michonne states. "And we are all here to show the King how serious we are about that."

"The car stays outside. You gotta hand over your guns."

"We only have two," I look incredulously at Rick as he and Carl hand over their weapons.

"Okay, follow me."

When we get inside, I look around with judgement. It's actually kind of pretty, but I'd never admit it out loud.

"They have the numbers." Michonne says, with a smile.

"But can they fight?" Rosita asks.

"Oh, they can fight," assures Jesus.

"Maybe," grunts Daryl.

I turn around as I hear Tera say, "Morgan?"

"Hey," Morgan greets with a smile as he hugs Tera.

He turns to Rick and hugs him with another, "Hi."

"How do you know each other?" Richard asks.

"We go back to the start."

"Well, the King is ready to see you."

"Did you find Carol?" Rick asks Morgan.

"I did, yeah."

"Where is she? Is she okay?" Daryl asks, worriedly.

"She was here, and then she left. You know, she wasn't too happy, me following her. She wanted to get away from us, from everyone. But when I found her, she was shot. It was just a graze. I got her back here. They got doctors. They're good."

"Was it them?" Daryl asks.

"It was. She had crossed with some of them, and one of them followed her, tried to kill her, but I stopped him. I killed him." I can hear the pain in Morgan's voice. "I had to. Carol was here. She got help. Now she's gone."

We get lead into an old theatre, and when I see the tiger on a chain pacing beside the man with dreads, I want to laugh; but am not entirely sure as to why.

"Jesus! It pleases me to see you, old friend." The man with the dreadlocks greets.

"It pleases him, indeed!" A bigger man agrees, joyously.

"Jerry." The dreaded man warns. "Tell me, what news do you bring good King Ezekiel? Are these new allies you've brought me?"

"Indeed, they are, Your Majesty." Jesus responds. "This is," when he looks back at us and noticed not one of us have left the doorway, he stumbles over his words, "Oh, right. I forgot to mention that-"

"Yeah, a tiger." Rick interrupts. The tiger roars, so when everyone else walks forward, I stay in the doorway with Hope, not risking her health.

"This is Rick Grimes, the leader of Alexandria, and these are some of his people." Jesus explains.

"I welcome you all to the Kingdom, good travelers. Now, what brings you to our fair land? Why do you seek an audience with the King?" The man asks.

"Ezekiel- ... King Ezekiel." Rick corrects himself. "Alexandria, the Hilltop, and the Kingdom; all three of our communities have something in common. We all serve the Saviors. Alexandria already fought them once, and we won. We thought we took out the threat, but we didn't know then what we know now. We only beat one outpost. We've been told you have a deal with them, that you know them. Then you know they rule through violence and fear."

"Your Majesty," Jesus hurries to explain, "I only told them of the-"

"Our deal with the Saviors is not known among my people; for good cause." Ezekiel snaps, "We made you a party to that secret when you told us of the Hilltop's own travails, but we did not expect you to share-"

"We can help each other." Jesus states.

"Don't interrupt the King," Jerry chastises.

"We brought you into our confidence. Why did you break it?" Ezekiel asks.

"Because I want you to hear Rick's plans."

"And what plans have you, Rick Grimes of Alexandria?"

"We came to ask the Kingdom, to ask you, to join us in fighting the Saviors, fighting for freedom for all of us."

"What you are asking is very serious."

"Several of our people," Michonne explains, "Good people, were killed by the Saviors, brutally."

"Who?" Morgan asks.

"Abraham. Glenn. Spencer, Olivia. Sev killed themself. Eugene was taken. They took Daryl. He escaped. Every second he's out here, he's a target. You gonna say you were right?" Rosita's anger towards Morgan are obvious with her tone.

"No. I'm... I'm just real sorry they're gone."

"Negan murdered Glenn and Abraham, beat them to death." Rick explains.

"Terrorized the Hilltop, set loose walkers just to make a point." Sasha adds.

"I used to think the deal was something we could live with." Jesus says, "A lot of us did. But that's changing. So let's change the world, Your Majesty."

"I want to be honest about what we're asking." Rick adds, "My people are strong, but there's not enough of us. We don't have guns; not enough, at least. Not a lot of weapons, period."

"We have people." Richard speaks up, "And weapons. If we strike first, together, we can beat them," he turns to Ezekiel. "Your Majesty, no more waiting for things to get worse beyond what we can handle. We set things right. The time is now."

"Morgan, what say you?" Ezekiel asks.

"Me?" Morgan asks, sounding surprised.

"Speak," Ezekiel orders.

"People will die. A lot of people, and not just the Saviors. It- If we can find another way, we have to. Maybe it's just about Negan; just capturing him, holding him. Maybe I-"

"The hour grows late," Ezekiel states, "Rick Grimes of Alexandria you have given the King much to ponder."

"Well," Rick starts. "When I was a kid, uh, my mother told me a story. There was a road to a kingdom, and there was a rock in the road. And people would just avoid it, but horses would break their legs on it and die, wagon wheels would come off. People would lose the goods they'd be coming to sell. That's what happened to a little girl. The cask of beer her family brewed fell right off. It broke. Dirt soaked it all up, and it was gone. That was her family's last chance. They were hungry. They didn't have any money. She just sat there and cried, but she wondered why it was still there for it to hurt someone else. So she dug at that rock in the road with her hands till they bled, used everything she had to pull it out. It took hours. And then when she was gonna fill it up, she saw something in it. It was a bag of gold."

"All right," Jerry says, looking enthusiastic.

"The king had put that rock in the road because he knew the person who dug it out, who did something, they deserved a reward. They deserved to have their life changed for the good. Forever."

"I invite you all to sup with us and stay till the morrow." Ezekiel offers.

"Yeah, we need to get back home." Rick says.

"I shall deliver my decree in the morn," Ezekiel explains.

We follow behind Richard to Ezekiel, "This is life here. Every day. But it came at a cost. And I wanted more of this. I wanted to expand. To create more places like this. Men and women lost their limbs. Children lost their parents because I sent them into battle against the wasted when I did not need to."

"This is different," Rick states.

"It isn't."

"It is," Rick argues. "The dead don't rule us. The world doesn't look like this outside your walls. People don't have it as good. Some people don't have it good at all."

"I have to worry about my people."

"You call yourself a damn king," Daryl snaps. "You sure as hell don't act like one."

"All of this came at a cost," explains Ezekiel. "It was lives, arms, legs. The peace we have with the Saviors is uneasy, but it is peace. I have to hold on to it. I have to try. Although the Kingdom cannot grant you the aid you desire, the King is sympathetic to your plight. I offer our friend Daryl asylum for as long as he requires it. He will be safe here. The Saviors do not set foot inside our walls."

"How long do you think that's gonna last?" Daryl asks before storming off.

"He means to say thank you." I mutter, before following my group out.

I rush ahead to walk with Daryl, holding Hope close to me as we reach the entrance, "All right, open it up. We're gone." Daryl demands.

The doors open to the outside world when Rick says, "You're not."

"I'm not staying here," Daryl argues.

"You have to. It's the smartest play. You know it is. Try to talk to Ezekiel. Or stare him into submission and have Anne talk to him, whatever it takes."

I look between the men before asking, "Your wanting me to stay?"

"Keep Daryl out of trouble, yes."

I shake my head, "Rick, this place is a giant renaissance fair!"

"We'll be back soon," Rick reassures us.

"Mason, guess we're staying." I call to my son.

"Okay," he agrees, hanging back and the three of us, four if you count Hope; watch the gate close behind our friends.

"Why'd you give in so easy?" Daryl asks me, glaring a hole into the back of my head as I change Hope's diaper.

"Give in to what?"

"Rick making us stay held up here?"

I give in and glance at him, he looks pissed. "I don't want you being taken away from me again. I don't want to raise a baby on my own in the middle of a war with not only the dead but also now a group of the living. A group lead by a man who's not only the reason my last daughter was murdered, but has now killed a group of my close friends, so yeah. I gave in to the plan of talking a delusional want to be king into helping us kill the bastard. It just so happens that this plan also will keep you safe."

"I can keep myself safe," Daryl snaps. "I don't need Ezekiel's protection."

I close my eyes at his yell, take a deep breath and then open them again. "I don't want to fight."

"I don't want you making decisions for me."

"I'm- That wasn't what I was trying to do..." I pick up Hope into my arms, turning around to look him in the eyes.

"I won't let anyone else control me. Dammit, Woman! You don't know the hell I just went through!"

"Then tell me, open up to me, Daryl. Help me understand, please. Because I don't even know how I keep messing this up. How I keep pissing you off!"

He just keeps staring at me, and I shake my head, "I can't do anything right with you... I thought that because you know where I came from, that'd you know where I'm coming from... but you don't have the patience to even try to see why I do the things I do..."

"You're comparing me to your husband again. I ain't ever gonna be that prissy bitch."

[badwolf256]

The Trip

Pairing: Severus/Lily

Rating: M

Genre: Angst, Fluff, AU-ish?

Chapters: 1/?

Word Count:

Summary: Distantly it occurs to her that whatever they are, they definitely shouldn’t be talking about it here.

Author’s Note: I had a hard time deciding if this was going to be put in as AU or not. Honestly? I personally have a hard time with something like this not happening at some point during the Marauders-era, what with all the field trips I had to take for school, so an event like this, even if it isn’t necessarily what I portray here, has always been canon to me. But I know that most people probably don’t have the same feelings about this as I do, so I’ve listed it as AU-ish. It’s up to you to decide.

She doesn’t know why he just calls it ‘the trip’. He’s packed meticulously for it, of course, Sev being Sev, organizing books and parchment and Potions’ ingredients into separate compartments in his trunk. She doesn’t see the point in all this needless preparation: She ends up throwing whatever she thinks she’ll need in willy-nilly, and when he comes to give her his ‘professional’ advice on whether she should bring her winter cloak or not, he wrinkles his nose.

“Like you’re one to talk.” She throws back at him, airing a pointed glance at his hair, earning a glower.

“Not all of us are gifted.”

“So what you’re really saying,” She picks up, three days later, “Is that not everyone’s mastered the complex art of shampoo?”

“Don’t you have other things to worry about? We’re leaving in a week.”

She takes her chances, flashes him a grin.

“Yeah. You should probably wash your hair first.”

And then she tears off across the courtyard, looking back to see him standing, sighing, with his head in his hands.

To be fair, they’re not the only ones getting ready for the trip. Ever since headmaster Dumbledore’s announcement that Beauxbatons would be hosting them to ‘aid in the understanding of different aspects of the wizarding world’(Or something equally academic and, by the students of Hogwarts, at least, equally ignored.) the castle had transformed into a frenzy of asking permission and getting ready and lamenting(Over what, Lily isn’t sure.).

One Sunday, a weekend after the announcement, a regal black owl deposits twelve- Twelve!- cardboard boxes from a high-end wizarding department store in London land in front of Lucius Malfoy at the Slytherin table.

“I don’t even know why he needs twelve. You should see his wardrobe.”

“Mm.” She hums contentedly against his chest, tempted to fall asleep in the warmth of him. “My parents didn’t even send me- You know what. Forget about it.” Then he does that Sev thing, the one where he looks down as if ashamed for having brought it up, and she takes it upon herself to do her own, distinctly Lily thing, and pulls herself up and embraces him. Tightly.

“Fuck them.”

His eyes widen. She feels it.

“Lily.”

“No, seriously. Fuck them. None of them are going to care one whit about Beauxbatons besides… I don’t know, besides, ‘look, there’s ice on the walls!’. I mean, it is going to be spectacular. But not because there’s ice on the walls. There’ll be like, a million books in the library for you, and probably a million different Potions recipes for you to try.”

“What are you doing in this scenario?”

“Besides annoying the fuck out of you? I don’t know. Reading up. It’s French, Severus! I’ll have an unprecedented opportunity to learn about French things, Petunia’s going to be so jealous.”

At this, he pulls back from her, and rolls his eyes- Literally rolls them.

“Of course you would think about that.”

(Dunderhead, he adds, silently. She hears it anyway.)

“Okay, though. It’s payback for last Christmas.”

“What happened last Christmas?”

“I thought I- Okay, so basically, my parents came and picked me up from the train station, and when I got home there were pentagrams drawn all over the door and salt lining the windows, and at the time none of us knew why, so we go inside, and find my sister performing some discount demon banishing spell she got off, I don’t know, a drug dealer or something. She sees me, and she screams, and then she turns to our mother and says, “I’m sorry, I thought it would work!”. And I was just standing there, right, and then I realize, I was the demon she was trying to banish. It was so Petunia, really, that I can’t even be mad at her anymore, but it… At the time, it hurt really badly.”

“She crossed the line.”

He is completely serious when he says it, and she gets the uncomfortable, burning feeling that he wants to go to her house and punch her sister in the jaw.

“Like I said, payback.”

She leaves it there, but she knows, when she catches him looking at her with this mix of… A lot of things, that it isn’t over for him. Not that she was expecting anything different- Sev projects. Acts like everything bad that happens to her is an end-of-the-world crisis, probably to distract himself from the fact that his entire life is an end-of-the-world crisis. It’s one of his coping mechanisms. His best coping mechanism, actually, outside of the Dark Arts, so she’s more than relieved to see him leaning on it. Still, she can’t help but wish he didn’t look at her like that-

Like. Like she’s something that needs to be protected. Like he’s sorry for her. He should be sorry for himself. But she’ll never tell him that, because even though she knows, he’s made it clear to her that she isn’t supposed to know, or, at least, she’s supposed to pretend that she doesn’t know.

She keeps silent.

Keeps an eye out at the Gryffindor table, instead. Watches as Sirius gets Regulus to send the permission slip to some obscure relative who’s not his mother, because there’s no way in hell that Walburga Black is going to let her son go to some foreign country when he can’t even behave in his own. Potter, meanwhile, is bent over a list of what she strongly suspects to be pranks, mainly, pranks he’s planning for the visit. Remus sits glumly, looking off to the distance at something only he can see.

In the end, Remus is the one that she feels the most sorry for her. He reminds her a lot of Sev, sometimes.

She doesn’t talk to him.

Ravenclaw, as a whole, has decided to organize a foreign trivia competition. Kingsley tries to get her to join, but she declines. She hardly knows any trivia, and she’ll be busy with Sev the whole time, so there’d be no use in it. Surprisingly, a few of the Hufflepuffs decide to join.

Then there are the Slytherin kids.

It seems as though everyone in Slytherin house(Other than Sev)(Hopefully)is gearing up to advance their Dark Arts knowledge over the five days they’ll be traveling. She sees Bellatrix Black chatting with a sneer on her face about all the good curses she’ll be taught that will help her ‘deal with the Mudbloods.’ She sees, too, the slight clenching of Sev’s jaw when she says it, which gives Lily something like hope to take with her.

It’s a lonely week, that week before Beauxbatons. Without Sev. A productive week, but a lonely one, still.

Thankfully, having a best friend means unspoken rules, and unspoken rules means the third to last train compartment. Unspoken rules also meant that, as usual, Sev was there before her, for some amount of time long enough to get unashamedly engrossed in a Middle Eastern magical theory book while she was still dragging her trunk down from Gryffindor Tower.

“I got you Every Flavour Beans.” He says, by way of greeting.

“Bad idea, Sev. They are every flavor.”

“Yes, well. Have fun with them.” He turns a page, and Lily decides that, since they’re going to Beauxbatons and all that, he shouldn’t waste a minute of the train ride reading. Especially not something as dry looking as Middle Eastern magical theory.

She takes his book from him.

“Lily…”

“Come on, Sev! You can’t just get me Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans and not be prepared to be looped into a bean eating contest.”

“I don’t like Every Flavour Beans.” He says, as if he’s explaining it to an eleven year old- Funny, he explained it the exact same way when they were eleven.

“Then why did you get me any?”

Suddenly his gaze drops, and Lily curses under her breath. She’s landed on a we-don’t-talk-about it topic. She knows the answer already. Sev’s always done this, ever since he could. She thinks it has to do with the fact that nobody ever got him anything when he was young, that he feels like he has to get things for her.

“I’m sorry. I forgot- You’re right. I shouldn’t-”

“What’s the first one, then?”

“Sev-”

“The first bean. Hand it over, or forever hold your silence.”

Lily has the sudden urge to slap him for giving in so easily. Or do… Something. Press for more, maybe? See how far her luck will get her? But no. It’s never good to do that with Sev. She just has to take what she can get. And what she can get, she’s learned, throughout several years of playing this game with herself, is tricking him into eating a vomit flavoured bean, right off the bat.

“That wasn’t fair, Lily.”

“You’re a sore loser, Sev.”

“Oh, so I’ve lost now?”

“First one to give away the fact that they didn’t like the bean loses. It’s wizard, isn’t it?”

“No. And really, ‘it’s wizard?’”

“You lot say ‘Merlin’ all the time.”

“You lot?”

“Sorry. Our lot. Guess Petunia’s rubbed off on me.”

“Merlin.” Severus says, and she laughs, knowing that she’s won.

Years later, when she looks back on it, it’s the train ride she’ll remember. How they laughed. How they were Lily-and-Sev, and how neither of them knew at all that they wouldn’t be, soon.

[zexxcandell]

👿 - An Enemy

The Wayfarer was sinking.

Sevlaz sat back against the burning hull, his red eyes burning with hurt just as the fire did around him.  His hand held tight to his stomach as he could feel the heavy out pour of black blood between his fingers.  His usual loose finery was torn and singed from their current predicament, he'd always had a taste for the finery of life.  Silver and gold, they were what he craved and was willing to do whatever he could for.  He wasn't a large orc by any means, but he was tough and he was clever concepts generally lost to his people's brute strength and might.  Sadly it seemed, this was the last time his cleverness was going to be of any use.  His cutlass in the other hand hung loosely as it bumped against the aged timber of the deck, sending a clear ding of steel despite the roaring heat and screaming storm outside of the ship.  Eyes blazing yet he looked across at the young human, the blue eyes of his apprentice staring back with unbridled fury and frustration.

"You done killed us all, boy.  Ya know that right?"  Came his gruff, furious voice calling out the young man.  He was tall and lanky, but despite his beanpole stature there was a quickness that Sev had taken a shine to right away.  Zexx was fun, he was fast, and he was his friend.  Almost a son, and that was saying a lot from an orc about a human.  But again he wasn't very much like his kin.  He could still remember when they had picked him up in that gobo port, scrawny and broke trying to figure out where to find food and shelter since he'd dumped off that Kul Tiran refugee boat.  It was a sad story for the kid, but it was a well told tale all over since the Scourge had come and razed Lordaeron to the stones.  

Despite the horrific beginning, the last few years had been good.  Jae had given him to Sev to train, finding the young man's fury was a good fit for the orc to temper.  He'd done his best, teaching him to fight, to stand, to know where the money is coming and going.  Lucky for him, Zexx was near clever as he was and soon they were running jobs all over the coasts together.  Fighting murlocs, waylaying Theramore marines, and even breaking into an internment camp to free a pair of goblins.  Looking back on it, probably would have been better to leave Gravelsnak in that death trap.  And then Captain Jae had needed to leave, no word why or where but she said she had to go with a far off look to the west.  She handed her sword to Zexx and disappeared into the wilds.

A bark of a laugh answered back followed closely by a crack of thunder causing the ruins of the ship to shake and groan in pain as it let more water below, the rocks below grinding into the broken and torn planks.  "I did?  You stupid old bastard, if you'd had some god damn guts we would have made it!  We just had to stay the course and they would have broke chase!"  Zexx was turning Jae's rapier in one hand as he began to mutter and pace again, his steps buckling here and there from the gash to his right leg.  It had been a wild swipe and scored the orc a hit, but left him open to a thrust straight through his middle.  Sevlaz's black blood was still leaking down his front, but he could also feel it weeping out his back in a steady drip.

"Zexx they tried to break chase, but Grav got sucked in just as we did!  We didn't need this, we could have all gotten away.  I don't know what the hell Jae was thin-" The orc shouted back, his harsh guttural words rolling into a lecture he was used giving to the sailor before he was cut off by the scream of frustration from the human.  He was coming apart at the seams thought Sevlaz as he watched the dark haired man pace within the burning boat, neither of them seeming to care about their crumbling surroundings.   His red eyes darted past Zexx and saw the still holding stairs leading up to the deck again, perhaps if he caught him off guard he could slip by him and somehow survive this.  He'd been in tight situations before.  Maybe Beil was up there and could come talk some sense into the would be 'captain'.  Gritting his teeth and willing his thick fingers to tighten about the hilt of his sword he readied, his tongue starting into another lashing.

"Yeah you remember Jaetha?  The woman who took you in?  We all did you arrogant upstart, and now they're all dead cause of you.  Cal.  Beil.  Kybb.  Renah.  We trusted you to keep this boat afloat!  Instead you let your temper get the best of you over a stupid goblin and now you've damned us to this watery grave!"  Zexx had stopped now in his pacing as Sevlaz's words struck at him as well placed as any sword thrust, the winces and flinches as the accusations flew at him.  Sevlaz's anger blanched as he checked his footing and took a step forward with his weakening heavy step.  "Son we ca-"

Thunder of a different kind roared to life from within the sinking ship, the smoking barrel of one of Beil's flintlocks held in Zexx's free hand.  The boy was shooting blind of course as he held it out loosing from his side, but he supposed neither of them expected the large ball to tear through the orc's knee and send him crashing to the weakening floor.  Sevlaz howled in agony as he let go of his wound and sword to try desperately to staunch the blood and pain staining the wood below him.  His foot hung at a strange angle as the knee didn't seem to be in the right place any more.  His hands soaked in black as he felt shock settling over him as he looked frantically from his leg and up to the human he knew as his friend.  The gun lowered slowly as he turned to face his mentor, his shoulders squared as he glowered down at the dying orc.

"I am not your son."  He tossed the heavy pistol to the floor with a thump before slipping the sword into his belt loop, blue eyes cold and empty as that of the monsters that took his father and mother.  They were the last words spoken as he turned and limped toward the steps leading up from the hold and soon he was gone.  The orc stared agape as Zexx left him, despite the warmth of the fire around him he felt cold and tired.  His body growing heavier by the second he felt himself losing focus and fall back to stare up from the burning main deck, finding a breaking of wood to see a break in the swirling storm of the Maelstrom. One last sight of the stars of this world he had grown to love.  His final thoughts drifting back to a woman he knew so long ago, when he was a young orc tending to the pigs.  There was a female.  She was his.  He was hers.  And he left.  "Elras."

~

The heavy skinning knife fell from the orc's hand, her fingers twitching and shaking still as she felt as if a great pit had opened in her middle.  Elras breathed heavy as if the talbuk below her had actually skewered her instead of falling to her spear.  Something had happened.  Something she did expect or know of, but knew a great sadness filled her heart as tears began to fill her eyes and she placed her sobbing face into her bloody hands.  Intense and sorrowful as she wept, blood mixing with tears as he knelt before the dead beast beneath her.  Suddenly a she felt a small strong hand touch her shoulder with a soft child's voice to follow, her head snapping up as she drew in a shaking breath again and tightened her calloused hands into fists.  "Mother?"

"I am alright, Fenrag," her deep voice answering the worried word of her child.  The fists relaxing from their intensity as she reached up to pat the small orc boys hand with a smile on her tusked face, turning to present it to the concerned boy in an act of reassurance. "I am alright, I promise.  I just had a moment with the Spirits, reminding of the precious and fragile pact life carries."

The boy did not look convinced as he frowned at her still, but she was his mother and he a good son.  Squeezing softly at her shoulder again he would come about to pick up the knife and offer it to her as he went around the other side of the talbuk they would have for many dinners to come.  She smiled yet at her child as she began cleaning the beast again, her work soon filling the emptiness that had struck her so deeply. They finished in silence and they kept it all the way home, the red patch where the carcass had been among the green of the Nagrand high grass drying in the afternoon sun.

[deadlydollies13]

The Potion Master’s Grace Ch. 12

It was another low day for Grace, but not so low that she was confined to her bed. It could have been from the emotionally tolling previous day, or perhaps it was the usual British weather they were experiencing. It had been raining all day long, coming down in buckets from the gray, dull sky. Grace’s mood was just reflecting her world around her.    She did try her best not to let her mood control her, though. She tried eating breakfast but lost her appetite almost immediately. She tried to play the violin, but her music was never upbeat. Like her, it mirrored the gray outdoors. So there she sat, on the floor in Severus’ study, watching the rain fall in front of a large window, playing the violin. She was still in her pajamas, with Cas stalking around her, exploring the room he wouldn’t otherwise be allowed to go in. 

   “Are you feeling ill?” Severus asked, Grace’s violin coming to a halt.    “No. ‘m just tired. But every time I try to fall asleep, I become restless. So here I am in this hellish cycle,” her voice was quiet and slow. And Severus noticed it was groggy.    He reached over and put his hand on her forehead; she wasn’t burning up but she was definitely warm, “Grace, are you sure?”    “It’s from playing the violin. Dad, I swear I’m fine.”    But she still barely ate, and was restless, and was sounding worse by the minute. Finally, by that evening, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were glassy, and there was no way she could deny the fact that she wasn’t feeling well. Severus put a vile of liquid in front of her.    “What’s that?” she asked, looking up from pushing her food around her plate.    “It’ll make you feel better. Grace, you’re sick. You have a cold. Just accept it.”    “But it’s summer! I can’t be sick during the summer!”    “Grace, you’re not dying. It’s a cold, it’ll be gone by tomorrow. But only if you take care of yourself. Stress only brings your immune system down, and this weather isn’t helping either. Now, drink this and please try to eat something and then go to bed and get some sleep and I promise you’ll feel much better in the morning.”    Grace, stubborn as she was, couldn’t help but smile. She’d never had someone so concerned for her health. Well, besides Luna, her best friend, or Madame Pomfrey, whose job it was to be concerned. But since being a foster kid, she’d never had an adult give her medicine and demand she get some rest and hover over her making sure she was taking care of her health beyond everything else. Sure, it was a teenager's prerogative to be stubborn as hell and not care, but she could get used to this.    Whatever was in that vile surely made her feel better; better enough to at least get some sleep. Everything was fine when she finally closed her eyes.    And then, in the middle of the night, her chest was on fire, and she couldn’t breathe. And she found herself in a hospital bed with IVs and tubes sticking out of her.

-

   Grace awoke to the sound of an ECG and a foreign feeling in her side. She was also hooked up to a cannula, and upon inspection of her hand, an IV. Things started to link together in her groggy mind and yes, she was in a hospital bed. She looked over to Severus, who had hidden the fact that he was still in his PJs with his cloak. He was leaning on his hand, trying to get some shut-eye, and looked utterly exhausted.    “Hey…” Grace said, trying to reach out to him. She felt so weak and her voice was winded and tired.    Severus must not have been asleep after all because he opened his eyes right away, and at the sight of his daughter finally awake, he smiled, “Hey…”    “What happened?”    “Your lungs filled up with fluid and they had to drain them,” Grace lifted the blankets to see a tube going into her side. Gross. “You’ve been asleep for a few hours.”    “But you haven’t.”    “I was too worried about you. You looked almost dead lying there.”    Grace could see the worry in Severus’ eyes and she felt awful for putting him through such a scare, “Dad, you should really go home and get some sleep, you look so tired.”    He just shook his head, “No, not leaving your side.”    Before Grace could fight with him any longer, because he really did look exhausted, Luna knocked on her door, “Is she awake yet?”    “Come in!” Grace tried to call out, but it only came as a hoarse whisper.    “Oh, thank Merlin!” Luna came in, followed by Draco, followed by Rolf Scamander, and all three were in their pajamas as well.    “Why are you guys still in your PJs? What time is it? And how’d you all get here?”    “Severus called me as soon as he brought you to the hospital, so I flooed to your house and grabbed you some clothes and stuff and then had to catch a cab here because you’re in a Muggle hospital,” Luna said setting a duffle bag down on Grace’s bed; it probably had all of her medications in it too.    “Then Luna called me and we rushed over here as fast as we could. That was at three o’clock in the morning, it’s seven now,” Draco looked the most unkempt Grace had ever seen him. Aside from being in his PJs and a coat that was probably the first thing he grabbed off the hook and mismatching shoes, his hair was messy and sticking out every which way and he also hadn’t shaved in a day or two because he had stubble and it could have just been the medicine Grace was on, but he was unbelievably sexy and couldn’t help but blush at the thought that he had dropped everything to come see her.    “And I was staying over Draco’s, so, hi Grace. How’re you feeling?” Rolf added. He was an awkward boy, but had the biggest heart and always seemed to go out of his way to smile or say hello to Grace when they passed in the halls.    “It’s nice to see you, Rolf. And, I have a hole in my side and my lungs suck at beings lungs so,” she shrugged.    Luna sat down on the edge of the bed, “Is there anything you need?”    Grace looked over at her dad, who was trying his best not to fall asleep, “Dad, I think I have plenty people here to look after me. Please go home. Get some rest and come back later but you need some sleep. And I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer.”    “Yeah, Uncle Sev,” Draco added, “you look like you’re going to doze off any minute.”    “We promise Grace will be well taken care of,” Luna added.    Severus rolled his eyes, “Fine. But if anything happens-“    “Dad, go home!” Severus was being rather ridiculous. He knew that the three teens in there cared as deeply for Grace as he did and wouldn’t let anything happen to her. And there wasn’t really anything endangering Grace’s life. She had had a flare-up, that’s all. But Severus also hadn’t had to watch someone he truly cared about go through such a thing. It helped that Grace was so calm about it, and he knew she did it just to reassure him, but it was still terrifying.    Grace held out her arms and Severus hugged her gently, afraid to hurt her, but she only squeezed back harder, “I’m not made of glass, you know.”    “Really? Because you ended up in the hospital from a cold. You’re living in a bubble from now on.”    As he approached the door, he heard Grace call out, “Love you, dad!”    Love was sort of an unspoken thing with Grace. There wasn’t much she didn’t love. She loved Luna, she loved school, she loved Quidditch, she loved music, she loved her new life, but at the top of the list was most definitely her dad. It was just never voiced, but Grace always wore her heart on her sleeves, so it wasn’t hard for Severus to just know. But to say “I love you,” it stands for so much. It’s something said out of comfort and assurance.    “I love you too, Gracie.”

-

   It was extremely boring in the hospital, as Draco pointed out, it was an ordinary Muggle hospital. It was filled with people of ordinary cases and ordinary lives. And Grace actually agreed. She had never been to a magical hospital like St. Mungo’s, but she could imagine the accidents and cases the Healers dealt with definitely kept their days interesting.    It was especially boring since Grace wasn’t allowed to get out of bed yet and at least walk around. The room she was in was dull, and though there was a TV, there was nothing good on to watch. Thankfully Luna packed her her glasses, so Grace wasn’t both bored and blind.    Speaking of, Grace and Draco had cunningly managed to get Luna and Rolf to venture off into the hospital wings together in search of some food. Draco, to no surprise, had enthusiastically volunteered to stay by Grace’s side.    “Why can’t I just go alone?” asked Luna.    “Because you might get lost. It is a big hospital,” Grace added, immediately catching on to Draco’s plan when he suggested Rolf go with Luna.    “And I’ll help you carry everything, Luna. It’ll be like an adventure,” Rolf flashed Luna a bright, lopsided smile. Actually, it was his jaw that was lopsided, but he was obliviously flirtatious and even more oblivious to the fact that Grace and Draco were trying to set them up; Rolf was just a genuinely nice bloke.    “I’ll stay here with Grace. Now go, the nurse said she can’t keep taking her medication on an empty stomach,” and hurried them out of the room.    Draco sat next to Grace, his eyes tracing the tube that went into her side.    “Wanna see?” Grace asked, lifting the blanket. She was dressed in fresh pajamas the hospital gave her, just her top was pulled up to give access to the tube.    “That’s going to leave a wicked scar. You can tell people you got, like, attacked by a troll or something, and you defeated it with only a scar to prove it!”    Grace laughed, but then her smile turned into a wince. Laughing, for now, hurt like hell.    “I’m sorry,” Draco said. “Sorry.”    “Draco, I’m fine. It’s just uncomfortable with a plastic tube sticking out of my side,” she smiled and put her hand over his. His eyes went to her hospital band.    “Is this your first time in a hospital?” he asked.    She shook her head. No, the first time she had been in the hospital was when she was three and first discovered she had asthma. She too had thought having a hospital band on was so cool. She had been the talk of the preschool because she proudly showed off her bracelet for two weeks after, not taking it off until everyone had asked her what happened and if she was okay.    The next time was when she was seven, and she was sent to the hospital after the police had learned about what was happening to her at home. She was put in a special ward and thoroughly inspected, inside and out. What she didn’t understand was why she was the youngest one in that ward. She had seen much older men and women around her. They felt the same pain as her, but everyone looked at her differently because she was seven-years-old. From there, she was transferred to the children's’ psychiatric ward, where she resided during the entire trial. She hated it, all of the doctors asking her too many questions, telling her to talk about what happened too many times. The only good memory she can recollect from that time in her life was when she got to ride in the police cars back and forth from the hospital to the courthouse, and the police officers would let her turn on the sirens.    But she wouldn’t tell Draco that, and she hadn’t even told Luna that much. The only person who knew was Severus because as time went on, she had slowly but surely started talking about it more, just so someone knew.    “You know, you look really cool right now. With your glasses and that breathing tube and the badass scar,” he said, his thumb absentmindedly gliding across her hand.    “Do I look ‘cool,’ or do I look ‘cute,’ Draco?”    “You look really cute,” Draco’s cheeks turned a deep shade of red, his blush creeping down all the way to his neck. “You always look cute, actually.”    “You know, it could just be all this medication I’m on right now doing the talking, but you’re not so bad yourself. When you’re not being a prat, that is.”    “Oh, well, thanks,” he laughed. “Hey, um, after you’re out of the hospital, would you maybe… want to go out with me?” He said it so softly and quickly, she could barely hear him from even a few inches away. And Draco was so afraid she’d reject him, and she had every right to for the way he treated her. But, her smile said differently. Even in the hospital, tired and hair a mess, she was still the most beautiful girl Draco had ever seen.

-

   There was no denying both Luna and Rolf had a thing for each other. They came back both giggly, Rolf with that dazed lop-sided smile and Luna eight shades of red. The four of them sat there around Grace’s hospital bed eating shitty hospital food. The only good thing about it was the Jell-O and pudding cups, and the ice cubes.    The nurse came in some time later and said that Grace could leave that night and she was allowed out of bed when she felt strong enough, but strongly suggested staying in a wheelchair at least for that day. She took out Grace’s IVs and her tube but she had to stay on oxygen for at least another week.    Grace was worried about her dad, she hoped he actually got some sleep and not stress over everything and keep himself up. What she didn’t think she’d have to worry about was Narcissa Malfoy once again going to her dad for some company and latching onto him like a leech, or even coming to the hospital with him.    “Dad!” she exclaimed, running into his arms. “And… Mrs. Malfoy,” she gave a small wave.    “Grace… Good to see you’re not dead.”    The last remark went right over Severus’ head, as he went right into dad-mode, “Grace, shouldn’t you be sitting down? You’ll get exhausted.”    But before she could reply, Narcissa’s shrill voice interrupted the room, “Draco, what are you doing in your pajamas? You’re out in public, have you gone insane?”    If Draco had rolled his eyes any harder, they would have rolled out of his head, “Luna’s call woke us up and we rushed right over here. I wanted—needed— to make sure Grace was okay.”    “It could have waited until later. What if someone saw you?”    “No one saw me, mother! We’re in a Muggle hospital, no one knows who we are! And I haven’t left Grace’s room, haven’t even left her bedside!”    Now that really struck a nerve, “Come, Draco, you need to get that stench off of you.” She held out her hand, but he just backed away.    “No. No, I’m so tired of your stuck-uppish attitude, mother! I’m tired of you speaking about Muggles like they’re lesser than us! They’re not, Grace is not. In fact, based on morals, she’s so much better than us! She’s amazing! And I really like her!” he turned to Grace. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven, okay?”    “O-okay,” she was still absorbing what had just happened, and Draco stormed out, Narcissa right on his tail.

[jbankai89]

The Stag and The Snake Part I, Chapter Eight - Time

My good friend and braintwin @kuriquinn suggested I try posting my actual fics on Tumblr, rather than just linking them, so I'm giving it a try. For those of you following my work on AO3 or AFF, these will be reposts until I'm caught up and everything is posted. :)

Title: The Stag and the Snake

Author: JBankai89

Status: Complete, Part 1: 12/12 Part 2: 22/22

Rating: Part 1: PG-13, Part 2: NC-17 Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin

Achievements: None

Warnings: Violence and Gore, Violent Sexual Assault, Minor Character Death

Summary: Vernon Dursley is enraged with the prospect of raising a boy he never wanted. Petunia recalls something that might help them get the child out of their hair more quickly. Overcoming their recalcitrance for anything magical, they invoke The Rite of Betrothal. Who will Harry be forced to marry, and will he be able to cope with all the demands it will entail?

Word Count: Part 1: 46 772 Part 2: 85 442

Other Links: AO3, AFF, LJ

Notes: Please note that this fic also contains Evil!Snape, which is a trope I hate, because Sev is my favourite character, but for the purposes of this story, he worked best.

This fic is based on the story of The Swan Princess, which I will be following the canon of in conjunction with the HP canon. Canon divergences include Voldemort is definitely dead, Lucius Malfoy is a bit OOC, and Sirius did not go to Azkaban. Because most of the story takes place before and after Hogwarts, a lot of the Hogwarts years are glossed over. I tried to keep the links and stuff organized how they did it on the old LJ group MyChemicalSlash, so I hope this is clean enough for you guys to follow easily.

Previous Chapter

Fic Masterpost

A/N: Because so much of this story takes place before and after Hogwarts, I really struggled with how to portray the Hogwarts years without it seeming like I skipped over them, or didn't give them the right amount of attention. When I initially wrote this chapter, I rewrote it 3 or 4 times to get it to a place where I was happy with it. This is the last time jump of Part One of this story. I hope you guys enjoy it :)

Chapter 8 – Time

When Harry was younger and Hagrid had told him about Hogwarts, Harry thought that it would be brilliant.

But time was a strange thing, and coupled with the chaos of each passing year, he felt as though everything was going too fast, and despite Harry's desperate exclamations, it wouldn't slow down.

Amidst summers with the Dursleys, then the Malfoys for one horrible week, then finally with Sirius and Remus, every year the betrothal came closer, and every year he hadn't the nerve to tell his two best friends about it.

At the same time, he had been subject to what it felt like to have real parents for the first time in his life—in particular, the nagging part.

Harry, (Sirius wrote,)

Whose brilliant idea was it to fly a Ford Anglia all the way to Hogwarts, yours, or Ron's? This is a whole new plateau of stupid for you...

Harry,

What the hell were you doing outside, out of bounds, with Snape and Remus during a full moon? You're damn lucky none of you were turned or killed, you wait until I get hold of you...

Harry,

Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire? I know you wouldn't be daft enough to go looking for trouble...

Harry,

Are you deliberately trying to break your contract? Talk to Draco again outside of your supervised time together, and there will be hell to pay...

Harry,

Do you plan on performing your Bonding in detention? I know Umbridge is unpleasant, but you need to try to resist the urge to antagonize her...

With each letter that Harry got from his godfather, the less he sounded like the Sirius Harry had known, and the more he began to sound like Mrs Weasley. It was unnerving, and the overbearing protectiveness was exhausting to deal with. Along with the letters, Sirius included gentle suggestions that Harry should maybe consider telling his friends about his impending post-secondary nuptials.

Harry,

Your Bonding is in four years. I know you don't want to hear this but it will be better to tell your friends soon, instead of springing it on them. Maybe once things have settled down after the Tournament...

Harry,

I know you haven't told Ron and Hermione yet about your Bonding. Would you like me to help you decide what to say? After your OWLs we can discuss it...

Harry,

You need to tell Ron and Hermione about the bonding. Perhaps at Slughorn's Christmas Party (I know he invited you, don't deny it) maybe it'll be easier to tell them after a few glasses of eggnog...

Harry,

Next year's Lughnasadh Ball where your Bonding will be announced is going to be extremely public. Daily Prophet reporters will be there, and it's not something we'll be able to keep quiet...

Where had the time gone? Harry felt as though he was watching water trickle through his cupped hands, and suddenly he found himself staring at an empty dormitory, with the Hogwarts Express ready to take him back to King's Cross for the last time. He felt cornered, with his bonding, wedding, whatever, looming before him like some great beast. Harry still had no idea how to break the news to Ron and Hermione, much less the fact that he was queer and that it was Malfoy on top of everything else.

While it was one thing to know that the wizarding world had no issues with sexuality, it was quite another to really know it. He had spent a good chunk of his childhood and adolescence being subject to Uncle Vernon's absolute disgust for nancy boys, as he called them, as well as the nasty barbs thrown his way when they had realized that his betrothal partner was not, in fact, a girl.

Dudley was curiously absent whenever he was around after that. Not that Harry really minded so much, it wasn't as if Dudley had ever significantly impacted Harry's life—not counting the times his fist impacted upon Harry's face.

Remus and Sirius had done their best to quell his internalized homophobia, but at the end of the day, Harry knew that it was something he'd have to work out for himself. Having them around for a good chunk of the year had helped, but he still struggled with that last tendril of shame that clung to the corners of his conscience, and refused to accept his inclination towards boys.

In spite of everything, he was almost too excited to care. He was going home, his real home, finally. He never had to see the Dursleys again. Sirius and Remus had broken the news to him a few days before he was due to leave for the start of his seventh year, and that fact alone was almost enough to make him forget about the Lughnasadh Ball. Almost.

“Harry?” Ron's voice snapped him out of his daze. Harry turned to see him standing uncertainly on the stairs that led out of their seventh year dormitory. “You coming?”  

“I—yeah,” Harry forced a small smile, “in a minute.” Harry watched Ron eye him curiously, then disappeared down the tower's staircase. Harry turned back to the empty dormitory, and felt a small pang in his chest. Empty wardrobes, stripped four-posters, and yet Harry could all but see the mad memories he had made in this room. Insane wrestling matches that never ended well, swapping chocolate frog cards, Christmases long past...Harry couldn't stop thinking about everything. It had gone by so quickly, and he almost felt as though he'd never stopped long enough to appreciate the years he had spent in the castle.

But now, it was all over. He felt as though his entire life had been leading up to the first of August. What would happen after, he had no idea. He'd been so busy trying to not think about August, and Draco, and the stupid betrothal, all his determined not-thinking seemed to make it come closer in leaps and bounds.

And of course, things with Draco had been weird all year to begin with.

Sirius had informed Harry at the beginning of the autumn term that given that now that he and Draco were both of age, the Contract viewed them both as adults.

“This means,” Sirius had said, “that you and Draco can associate with one another outside our supervision, if you want to.”

Ha! Harry almost laughed at the memory. As if he had a burning desire to spend more time with that git.

Unfortunately, Draco seemed to see this new freedom rather differently. Though far from his usual attitude of humiliating or ignoring Harry as he'd done in summers past, he instead sought out Harry's company when he knew Harry would be alone.

The first few times, Harry had genuinely expected the other teen to hex him, or attack him, or something. Instead, the silver-white Slytherin would stalk forward, all smooth, languid movements, and  pin Harry to the nearest flat surface. He learned early on that Draco was an amazing kisser.

The problem was, Harry didn't want to like Draco, or his kissing, or anything else about the little shit.

He'd spent years being harassed by him, and suddenly Draco wanted to kiss and make up? It was deeply unsettling.

“I can't help it Potter,” Draco would purr after Harry had wrenched himself away from him, “you grew up pretty.” He would smirk in that self-satisfied Malfoy sort of way, and stalk off without a backward glance.

The Pretty remarks left Harry feeling both hot all over, and deeply ashamed. In many ways, he felt like that descriptor absolutely didn't apply to him, and it also felt demeaning. Girls were pretty, not boys. Did Draco see him as some kind of...womanish man?

With or without the cutting remarks, Harry struggled to completely stifle his growing desire every time they shared an encounter. Puberty had not been entirely unkind to Draco, and more than once the Slytherin had snuck in to Harry's more erotic dream sequences, which always made him wake up gasping and sticky.

Lost in his thoughts, Harry hardly noticed where he was going as he descended the steps of the dormitories and slipped out of the portrait hole for the last time, barely glancing up as he went. He did, however, notice when he walked straight into someone, they holding their ground so firmly that Harry lost his balance and fell back onto his buttocks.

“Damn, I'm sorr—” Harry cut himself off as he looked up and saw Snape in front of him, towering over him with his arms crossed and regarding Harry with a cool, blank stare. Much to his surprise, Snape reached forward and dragged Harry to his feet.

“Perhaps in the future it would be advisable that you watch where you are going, Mr Potter, instead of studying the intricate details of your shoes.” Something in Snape's normally scathing tone seemed muted, somehow, and Harry eyed him quizzically. Snape's hand was still lightly grasping his forearm, and he seemed almost reluctant to let go. He narrowed his eyes at Harry, and Harry swallowed, refusing to let Snape intimidate him, not anymore.

“I'll try and remember that, sir,” Harry said in as even a tone as he could manage, while he pulled his forearm out of the man's grip, and the gesture seemed to anger the Potions Master for some reason. Harry hesitated for a moment longer, then hurried past Snape and rushed to the carriages waiting outside.

~*~

The ridiculous nostalgia of the seventh years on the Hogsmeade platform was enough to temporarily distract Harry from his uncertain future. People hugged, cried, and made empty promises of staying in touch, and Harry exchanged more than one bewildered look with Ron as Hermione got particularly teary as she hugged Parvati and Lavender (much to Harry and Ron's dual shock) goodbye. Harry glanced away from the scene and his eyes momentarily caught Draco's through the cluster of over-emotional bodies, and he gave Harry a small nod and a wink. The fact that Draco had slipped into his dreams again the night before definitely didn't help him keep his composure, and he quickly looked away.

“Harry, are you all right? You look very red.” Harry spun around and saw Hermione eyeing him with concern and thinly veiled suspicion.

“Er, yeah, I'm fine,” he said quickly as panic began to bubble in his chest again. I suppose it's now or never, Harry thought as he climbed onto the train with his trunk and Hedwig, and struggled to get a handle on his flush. Ron and Hermione followed him onto the train, more slowly as they tried to navigate through the clusters of bodies, trunks, and cages.

Harry found a compartment near the back of the train that was completely empty, brushing off more than one person along the way who had attempted to join them. His frayed nerves left little room to feel guilty about the hurt looks Neville, Ginny, and Luna gave him at his brush-offs. Ron and Hermione followed him in, and he stacked up his trunk and Hedwig's cage near the window. He opened and closed his fists repeatedly in an attempt to quell the trembling, though it did very little to actually calm him down.

Harry took every excuse that presented itself to postpone his Big Reveal.

He bought everyone pumpkin pasties, he played several games of Exploding Snap with Ron, while Hermione buried her nose in a thick volume and tutted as their games grew more and more raucous with every rematch.

Harry glanced up after the fifth game, and felt his throat tighten. They were already halfway to King's Cross, and Harry felt himself wondering again, where had the time gone? He pulled back from the game, and raked his fingers through his hair, making it even messier than usual.

“Er, I have to tell you guys something,” Harry said suddenly, and Ron looked up from the cards he had been shuffling, his brow furrowed, and Hermione's face emerged from behind her book. “I—I've been trying to figure out how to tell you for a while, but I, er, didn't exactly know how.” He paused, gnawing the inside of his cheek nervously. Was he really ready to do this?

“Spit it out Harry,” Ron said after a moment of tense silence, “you look like somebody died.” Harry almost laughed. Yeah, I wish.

He swallowed thickly and took a deep breath to steady himself before he finally began to speak.

“When I was little, my aunt and uncle signed me up for a—er—Rite of Betrothal,” Harry said, and he could feel himself going red, and he buried his face in his hands. The only sound that Harry could hear was the steady chug chug of the train, and the muffled chatter of people outside their compartment.

“What? Harry are you absolutely sure?” Ron sounded aghast, and for once, Hermione was quiet. Harry nodded mutely, his face still in his hands.

“Wait, betrothal? Harry, you're engaged to someone?” Hermione sounded confused, and Harry could hear Ron sputter with shock.

“It's more than that Hermione,” Ron said seriously, ignoring the fact that Harry still had his face buried in his hands in an attempt to hide the fact that he had gone bright red. “It's a binding magical contract set up by Harry's guardians and the Ministry. There's absolutely no way to break it. I've heard of people actually dying when they tried to break their contract, or if they postponed the bonding ceremony for too long.”

“Oh Ron, don't be so dramatic,” Hermione said dismissively, “it can't be that bad, can it Harry?”

“Believe me,” Harry mumbled into his hands, “it's bad.”

“Who's the lucky bloke?” Ron asked, and at this Harry's hands fell from his face, and he jerked so sharply at Ron's words that he almost toppled out of his seat in shock. Ron didn't even have the good form to hide his grin.

“How did—I mean,—why did, I mean—”

“Harry, breathe,” Hermione said gently while she reached forward and gripped one of his hands in an attempt to calm him.

“You don't think you weren't being discreet about it, did you mate? You checked out Diggory's arse enough times in fourth year.”

“This is a nightmare,” Harry groaned, and buried his face in his hands again. Hermione huffed impatiently and pried his hands away from his face.

“Really, Harry, you're being ridiculous. Just tell us: who is it?” She asked, and Harry looked from Ron's amused expression to Hermione's concerned one and back again. Was he really going to do this? He felt like he had better chances of facing off with a horde of Blast-Ended Skrewts and coming out alive.

“Er, Draco Malfoy?” His voice sounded very small.

Their reactions were so predictable that if Harry hadn't been so mortified by it all he might have laughed.

Hermione's eyes went wide and she clapped her hands to her mouth, and Ron's mouth dropped open, doing a remarkable impression of a basking shark.

“Harry, are you sure?” Hermione asked.

“Draco Malfoy?” Ron sputtered.

“Why didn't you tell us?”

“Draco effing Malfoy?!”

“It's not like I had a choice!” Harry snapped more angrily than he had intended, and they both went silent.

“I've been forced to hang out with him for one week a year for the last twelve years,” Harry raged while he threw up his arms in frustration. “We loathe each other. When I was five, he led me into the woods and left me there. When I was seven, he stole Lucius's wand and set my hair on fire! When I was twelve he almost got me killed by his mother's prized venomous tentacula! Do you think I'm happy about this?” Harry couldn't remember when he had stood up, or when he started yelling. Both Ron and Hermione had gone very quiet.

Harry sat back down, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm down, though it didn't help much. “I don't want to do this. The only good thing that ever came out of this whole mess is that I got to start living with Sirius and Remus when I was really small. Before that I was living in a fucking cupboard.” He looked out the window, and away from their mute shock. “I don't want to do this,” Harry repeated, though more softly. “I really don't, but I have absolutely no choice.”

“What about Sirius?” Hermione asked in a very small voice, clearly afraid that Harry would start yelling again, “he can't be exactly happy about this. I mean...” she trailed off, and watched him cautiously.

“Even if he wanted to do anything, he can't. Y'know, unless he wants to off his godson,” Ron cut in, and Hermione rolled her eyes. The ginger offered Harry an apologetic half-smile.

“Sirius said he tried to stop it,” Harry said, “but since he's not my legal guardian, there wasn't much he could do. Maybe if Dumbledore—” he cut himself off and shook his head. His feelings towards the old headmaster were so conflicted that he had no idea how to finish the thought.

“Dumbledore was only doing what he thought was best,” Hermione said, her voice soft and sad. Not that he could blame her, the man had been dead for almost a year, but it still felt like a bad omen to speak ill of him. “I'm sure he didn't mean for things to turn out this way...”

“Yeah, I'm sure it was a brilliant idea to let me stay with people who hate me, and treat me like crap, and then tell my...tell Sirius and Remus to not tell me anything about the wizarding world. It makes no sense, Hermione.” Harry wasn't entirely sure why he was suddenly so angry, but he was secretly grateful that they had deviated so far from his revelation. He wasn't exactly keen to talk about it.

“I'm with Harry,” Ron said, unwrapping a chocolate frog as he spoke, “what kind of kid wants to grow up like that? Even if Harry had known about everything, it's not like he's daft enough to go looking for trouble.”

“I never had to,” Harry replied with a small laugh, “trouble usually finds me.”

Next Chapter

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