#“you are obviously not mentally sound. anyone with a mother like yours is bound to be.” U KNEW ME 3 WEEKS TOPS . ALL I SAID WAS IM AUTISTIC | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

belovedbangtan · 4 years ago

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Dive| Part 10 | jjk

Pairings: Jungkook x y/n, Yoongi x oc

Word Count: 4.6k

Series Description: Camping with your ex, sounds horrible right? The camping trip was planned and payed for long before y/n’s shitty boyfriend broke up with her. Her best friend Abby, Yoongi, Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook are there to make sure she has an amazing time. However, sharing a tent with a smoke show like Jungkook is bound to lead to some complications.

Warnings: language, *this chapter mentions mentally abusive actions* *Very clingy/Jungkook and oc*, mentions of sex. For real... seriously CLINGY.

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They were attempting to be quiet but, their hushed tones were far from hushed. You’re awake now, eyes still closed as you process your current surroundings. You focus on the conversation that is seemingly between Jungkook, his cousin, and what you assume to be his aunt. She thanks him a countless amount of times and he tells her that it was no problem an equal amount of times. A hint of annoyance in his tone, but she clearly didn’t detect it at all. Then his cousin says something that you can barely make out, whispering being something she clearly comprehended; unlike her mother and Jungkook.

“We’re supposed to talk today, ill let you know what happens…” His voice veers off as if he suddenly became nervous.

“She cares about you Kook, I can tell. You care about her too, right?” she mumbles, no longer trying to whisper.

“A lot,” Is all you hear him respond with. His cousin giggles and tells him one final time not to stress and that everything will work out. She thanks him for the umpteenth time and they finally leave.

You wonder what time it is, laying there fully coherent but for some reason scared to open your eyes. After laying there for awhile and playing out every possible outcome, you decide to ‘wake up.’ Pulling yourself up into the sitting position, your pupils adjusting to the small amount of sunlight coming in from the windows.

“Good morning,” His voice is like honey, as he lifts his coffee cup to his lips. “Do you want some coffee?”

A soft smile and a nod have him gathering a cup and pouring the liquid gold into it. After telling him that you’ll take it black, he walks it over to where you are on the couch. You take it into your cold hands, sighing after taking a drink. Holy shit you were hungover.

You sit in silence long enough to wonder why it suddenly felt odd. You had so many things you wanted to say but couldn’t formulate the proper way to bring it up.

“Thanks for letting me stay the night,” you murmur, his large doe eyes peak up from his mug.

“Of course,” He answers, his face freezes when he realizes he doesn’t know what to say either. Or maybe, like you, how to say it.

Things go quiet again, you hear the birds chirping outside and the slow morning flow of traffic. You adjust yourself so that you’re facing him directly, your legs crisscrossed beneath you. His hair was fluffy, tame, but fluffy. The area around his eyes is slightly swollen and you wonder if he got any sleep last night. Mindlessly you set your mug down on the coffee table and you start moving across the couch to where he is. You still don’t know what or how to express what you need to but maybe you don’t need words. His eyes flick to yours, at first, he looks panicked then it quickly changed to relief. A smile pulling at his lips as he leans forward to set his mug next to yours. With his hands free, he sits back as you straddle his sweatpants clad lap. You take a deep breath, drinking in his morning beauty as his hands find their way underneath his shirt that clung to your body, resting on your hips just above the waist band.

When your eyes meet his, you forget why you worried at all. A wave of complacency rushing through your veins. With him you felt safe, with him you had no worries. Your fingers delicately push their way through his fluffy locks, letting your nails lightly scratch his scalp. His eyes close instinctively as he exhales deeply. As his head falls backward, your eyes are drawn to the center column of his throat. Fantasizing about how good it would look decorated in your love bites.

Before you can act on it, his words are pulling you from your heed.

“I’m really sorry that I made you upset last night, I should have told you what was going on so you didn’t worry,” his eyes meet yours and they’re filled with regret.

“Well I appreciate your apology, but I’m the one who should be apologizing. I guess I was just… confused, it hurt seeing you with someone else obviously.” you explain softly your fingers steadily raking through his hair.

He hums at your words, his fingers delicately brushing along your spine. Fire spreading from the tips of his fingers through your cold body. His brows shoot up, “I wish it wouldn’t have happened, but I learned something because it did,” his head tilts to the side as he drinks you in.

Staring into his whiskey colored orbs longer than you should have, “What did you learn?”

“I learned that… seeing you cry is something I never want to do again. I only want to make you happy, never sad,” He reaches up to cup your jaw, his eyes scanning over your face frantically.

Looking away from him, you feel your eyes start to well up. He inhales quickly before adjusting beneath you, “No… no, what did I say? I didn’t mean to ma…” he starts to panic, wondering what he said wrong.

“Remember when we were camping? And you told me I was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen in your life, and I started to cry?” You chuckle. He reaches up to wipe away your tear. His body visibly relaxes when you compare the situations.

“Mhm, and you told me that no one had every talked to you like that,” his voice is quiet. You have to swallow the lump in your throat when you realize he remembers that moment as clear as you do.

“Well it’s true, ya know? I don’t know if I’ve ever been properly…loved,” You start to explain, “At the same time, I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this way about anyone else. You make me feel like I’m crazy. There’s something about you that’s so intoxicating to me. I’ve never experienced having someone care about me the way you do or pay attention to me the way you do. It’s all so new to me, I’d be lying if I said that I’m not terrified.”

When you look up at him, he’s nervously chewing the side of his mouth. You laugh through your nose, leaning forward to press your lips to his. When you start to pull away his lips chase after yours. He kisses you a little more passionately this time as his hand wraps itself around the back of your neck pulling you down to him again. Breathlessly you pull apart, his hand still holding you close as your forehead rest on his.

“I’ve never been in this deep for someone, y/n. I’ve never cared about someone as much as I do you. I don’t know why. I can’t explain why I have these feelings for you but, I do. You make me so happy, and you bring a peacefulness that I’ve never felt before. I fucked up once, and I promise you that I will never do anything to hurt you ever again. Like I said… only want to make you happy.”

Your tears are mixing with his, and you can’t stop them from coming. You know that everything he’s telling you is true. You know that even though he hurt you, he didn’t mean to. You know that if you allow him too, he will love you with all of his heart for the rest of his life.

“I know we were going to talk about this tonight, but I can’t wait anymore, “His voice was shaking, almost as if he was unsure of the words that were about to be spoken. He sits up tall so that his face is mere inches from your own. He swallows hard, and his nerves start to rub off on you.

You raise your brows giving him a gentle smile as your fingers slide down to the back of his neck, silently telling him that he didn’t need to be nervous. He exhales loud in response.

His hands quivering as they rest on your sides, “I want to be with you. I want to be all yours, and I want you to be mine. I know what I want, and I don’t want you to be confused about anything anymore. Will you be my girlfriend, y/n?”

Your chest tightens with every confession that leaves his lips. The overwhelming feeling to scream or yell or cry. His eyes scanning your face for an answer, a hint, anything to ease his nerves.

Your voice is shot, so you nod aggressively. Tears shaking off of your face. Before you can get your full response out his lips are on yours fervent and passionate as his fingers lace in your hair on the back of your head to pull you closer to him.

He pulls back to take you in once again, “I’m sorry, I’m just having a hard time believing that you’re finally mine.”

You giggle as he pulls you in again kissing you slower this time, taking in the details to remember this specific moment and the exact way he feels. He wonders if he should tell you he loves you. He wants to, he wants to scream it from the roof top. He was honest about never being this deep. Part of him thought he may never know what it felt like to be in love. Up until you, it was short relationships that were always one sides and lacked something vital. Up until you, love didn’t exist. To him, you were love.

“So, does this mean…we can get breakfast instead of dinner? I’m literally starving to death,” Your stomach groans rip through the silent room. Jungkook instantly starts to die of laughter.

“Yes baby, I’ll make you some pancakes, sound good?” He shakes his head, giggling at your dramatic head nod.

Sitting across from him as you eat breakfast, reality set in. Everything felt surreal. Every fiber of your being was ready to dive into what ever was in store for you and Jungkook. As much as you convinced yourself that you were ready for the next step, there was no denying that you were terrified of giving your heart to him. Obviously, the sexual attraction was there, but you wondered if that was part of what was making everything so intense for you.

Jungkook was an anomaly to you in so many ways. He was caring, attentive, and insanely attractive. The most dangerous thing about him, however, was his ability to bring you to your knees; literally and figuratively. He was like a sex God that you couldn’t say ‘no’ to, because why would you? During your time away from him, you wondered how you would feel if you hadn’t allowed yourself to be with him sexually. The automatic intimacy was something about your relationship that made you miss it; made you miss him.

“What’s on your mind?” His voice is laced in innocence as he cocks his head to the side. Stacking your plate on top of his. You have to laugh at his innate ability to see through you. Another reason it was so hard to deny your chemistry.

“I guess, I was just thinking about us,” your bottom lip is instantly sucked into your teeth as you look away from him.

You hear him hum as he stands to put your plates in the sink, “Anything you want to share?” he asks. You can tell he’s somewhat anxious by the way he avoids you. His back turned away from you as he fidgets with the dirty dishes in the sink. You stand and wrap your arms around the back of him.

“Nothing bad, I don’t think at least… just maybe want to take things… slow.” You mumble into his back, feeling his quiet chuckles rumble against your cheek. He turns in your arms, brushing your hair behind your ears before cupping each side of your head.

“I’m listening,” He smiles.

You take a deep breath as you explain how you feel. Ultimately ending by telling him that you want to wait awhile before the two of you do anything sexually.

“It’s not like I don’t want to, I just think it’s smart if we maybe slow things down a bit. The way we should have at the start. I like you a lot Jungkook, and I want to be confident that we exist outside of our sexual attraction…” you ramble, his attention on you never faltering. “Do you hate me now?”

His eyes scrunch together, appalled that you would ever assume that he could hate you.

“I could never hate you,” He presses his lips to your cold nose, “What I feel for you is way more than sex. But I get that I need to prove that to you, and I will. I think that if that if it’s something you need from me than I will go as slow as you need me to.”

“You promise you’re not mad? Or upset?” you ask him quietly, swallowing hard. He lightly grips your chin, pulling your face up so that you’re looking at him.

“Baby… why do you think I would be mad?” He asks, his voice is soft and concerned.

“I-I don’t know,” your chest starts to tighten, and tears start to build up in the corners of your eyes, “Ben would get mad if I didn’t want to. He always made me feel guilty because I made him wait three months before we had sex. He said he didn’t mind at first, but he did.”

Jungkook wraps his arms around your shoulders pulling your in close. His face red with fury. If he thought he had reasons to hate Ben before, now he had motive for murder. He lifts you up, setting you on the counter so he can stand eye to eye with you.

“Look at me baby,” he demands softly, “I would never make you feel guilty for not wanting to have sex with me. You are so much more than your body and I need you to know that. We can take things as slow as we need to take them. I want you to trust me completely, I will never hurt you.” He pleads, begging for you to believe that he was someone different.

Tears building in his own eyes now, guilt of his own words and actions weighing even heavier. He knew that he hurt you when you overheard his conversation with Ben, but it was so much more than that. You let your walls down for him, and he completely let you down. He pulls you into him tighter this time. Understanding how vital it is for him to love you properly. To show you how incredibly special you are to him.

Your conversation ended there. You both moved to the couch, deciding to watch a movie while you cuddled with one another; not quite yet ready to let one another go.

“Abby is going to lose it when she finds out we’re actually together.” You murmur into his chest with a giggle. You feel his chest shake when he starts to laugh quietly.

“Yeah Jimin and Tae have been making bets on if and when it would happen.”

“Assholes,” You shake your head, rolling your eyes at their immaturity. At the same time you cant blame them for finding a way to make your roller coaster of emotions somewhat entertaining for them.

“Are you going to Jimin’s movie night tomorrow?”

“Yeah, should we tell them then?” you ask

“Maybe… or maybe we should have some fun with it?” He grins down at you.

“I’m listening…” You tilt your head on his chest to look up at him.

“Well if Jimin and Tae are betting on us, you know Abby is playing along too. So, what if we tricked them. When we show up tomorrow, we not only act like were not dating… but as if we have no feelings at all. They’ll be so confused.” He giggles.

“When do we tell them?” you bite your lip, weighing out the scenario in your head. You know they’ll be pissed but that’s what makes it intriguing.

“Mmm… I guess when we leave? Unless they catch on before that.” He shrugs, looking down at you.

“They’re gonna be pissed,” You giggle raising your brows.

“I know,” He laughs, clearly that’s the point for him.

“Alright lets do it.”

Movie night comes faster than expected. You almost fucked up the plan by wearing Jungkook’s sweater over your leggings. Last minute you had to run inside and switch it out for one of your own. You and Jungkook ride together, deciding that you’ll go inside a few minutes before him. You’ll tell everyone that you took an Uber if they ask.

“Remember, pretend I don’t exist.” Jungkook reminds you, as he pulls into the parking spot. You glance over at him, nodding your head. His sharp jawline on full display as he chews at his bottom lip. His tattooed arm flexing as he adjusts his grip on the steering wheel. He reaches down and puts his car into park. As soon as he does you instantly reach across turning his head to look at you.

“You say that like it’s going to be easy…” You mumble as you drink in his facial features, the mole just under his lip begging to be kissed. His lips start to pull into a smirk. Without thinking you push yourself out of your seat and over to his lap. Straddling him with one leg on either side of his. His eyes follow your every movement, his breath hitching when you finally make yourself comfortable. His hands naturally reaching behind you to cup your ass over the thick material of your leggings.

Finally facing the truth, you will never get used to the way he looks you. His dark caramel colored eyes reminding you of Whiskey in more ways than one. The way they warm your entire body from head to toe, or the way that they make you want to risk it all; never thinking about the consequences. Completely and utterly intoxicating.

You lean in kissing his cheek with a feather light touch, his eyes never leaving you. With your fingers just below his jaw, your lips dance along his cheek, closer and closer to his plump lips. Both of you letting out a sigh of relief when you finally reach them. Your lips fitting together as if they were made for each other. His tattooed hand suddenly comes up to your neck pulling you desperately closer. His tongue teasing your bottom lip just before he decides to let it slide inside. Your tongues tangle together for what feels like a century, until he pulls away, trapping your bottom lip in between his teeth as he does.

“Fuck, I don’t know if I can do this,” He giggles as he tries to regulate his breathing. You giggle as you leave a trail of kisses down the side of his neck. You know it’s not helping the situation but if you’re not allowed to talk to him or look at him for the next 3 hours you needed to get in what you could now. With one final, long, kiss to his lips you open his car door to let yourself out.

“It’ll be worth it,” You giggle, realizing his hand was still holding onto yours. You look at his lap realizing that you caused quite the situation. You wince, biting your lip as you look at him with sorry eyes. “Ill go inside and let you figure that out,” You giggle as you start to walk away.

“I thought you were supposed to be sweet?!” He yells out sarcastically, only making you laugh harder.

It was harder than you thought it would be. Not because you desperately wanted to snuggle up to Jungkook on the couch, but because between Tae, Jimin, and Abby; you couldn’t catch a break. The second you were in the door they were on you like bats out of hell. Asking you every question under the moon about you and Jungkook and your impending status. You immediately excused yourself to the restroom, claiming you had to pee the entire way here. Once you were away you texted Jungkook telling him to come inside so they would stop hounding you. You knew they wouldn’t talk about it if you were in the same room.

Conveniently, Jungkook walked into the apartment as soon as you walked back into the kitchen. You smiled at him, then quickly excused yourself to the living room to sit and wait for the movie to start. Jungkook follows your lead, sitting directly across the room from you. His eyes meet yours for a brief second, and you wish you had the ability to read his mind. The not so quiet whispers from the kitchen catch your attention. You have to giggle a bit at how overdramatic they were being. No doubt, they were confused. If it weren’t for Yoongi yelling out for them to join everyone in the living room, they probably would have stayed in the kitchen trying to figure out what was happening.

They all file into the room, their eyes casually flicking from you to Jungkook. Abby cuddles up to Yoongi, her eyes tight on you. You avoid her at all cost, knowing she would try to communicate through her eyes. Jimin sits with Jungkook and Tae plops down next to you. His innocent smile playing on his lips as he turns his head and looks you up and down.

“You doin okay?” His brow lifts as he asks you.

“Uhm… yeah?” You giggle, scrunching your brows as you adjust the cover that lays over your body, “Are you?” you smile.

He looks over at Jungkook, who is seemingly immersed in whatever is on his phone screen.

“Im… good.” He answers, his brain still trying to put the pieces together. Jimin is talking to Jungkook but it doesn’t look like he’s getting the answers he wants. As Yoongi presses play on the movie, all of the questions come to a halt. You can still feel Abby’s eyes burning into your head. Midway through the movie you can tell they’re all texting one another, each of their phones going off at the same time.

Your phone goes off a few minutes later…

Kookie:

He keeps asking me and I keep shrugging my shoulders. He’s losing it… this is so funny.

Wait awhile to respond, they’re watching.

Controlling your reaction on your face was harder than you thought it would be. You calmly set your phone down, resting your head on the couch. A few minutes later you decide to go to the restroom, pulling your phone out to text Jungkook back.

Y/n:

Yeah they’re for sure losing their minds.

… this is kinda hard.

*send*

You glance at yourself in the mirror, fidgeting with your appearance. A risque thought comes to your mind. You know you shouldn’t but, at the same time, you can’t think of a reason not to. You quickly take your hoodie off of your body and slide your leggings down your legs. Adjusting the waistband of your panties, then adjusting your girls in your bra. You sit on the edge of the bathroom counter, making your ass look fuller than it actually is. After playing with angles, you decide to take your bra off since he can see your tits from this angle anyway. After a few tries you finally capture the perfect picture.

Plopping down on to the couch, you wait a few minutes until you see Jungkook take his phone out of his pocket. Hiding your phone, you quickly press send, and adjust yourself so you can see his reaction. His eyes suddenly widen as he rearranges himself on the couch. His eyes flick up to yours, making your chest burn with a simple look. His pupils are blown out as he gnaws on the corner of his mouth anxiously. He pulls a pillow over his lap and waits a few more minutes before responding.

Kookie:

Baby doll, this was not a part of the plan.

I cant stop mentally undressing you now.

As you read the message, the corners of your mouth lift into a cocky smirk. The pillow over his crotch tells you everything you need to know. As the movie comes to an end, everyone starts to talk about their weekend plans. Jungkook is quiet as his eyes are locked on you. His leg bouncing beneath him, as he leans on his elbow. You pick up your phone trying to decide on the words to say. As your fingers ghost over the screen, you can’t seem formulate what you want to say to him. You slowly look up and when you make eye contact with him, your mind is made up.

You slide your phone into your hoodie pocket, as you slowly push yourself off of the couch. Jimin going on about weekend plans in the background, but you and Jungkook are in a world of your own. As you walk across the room, you don’t notice when the room goes silent. Jungkook instantly perks up when he realizes what’s happening. Straightening his posture, he moves the pillow on his lap, and you take its place. Straddling him as if no one is in the room. Leaning into him, you gently slide your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck pulling his face up to yours.

Both of your smiles disappear when his lips hit yours, pressing into you for longer than he should have. When you finally pull away your rest your forehead against his.

“Hi,” you whisper.

“Hi.” He smiles.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING!” Abby and Jimin scream nearly in sync with one another. You and Jungkook both start to die of laughter, as you adjust yourself to sit in his lap facing the others.

Taehyung, Jimin and Abby staring at you like you have three heads.

“Are you… are you together? Officially?” Abby throws Yoongi’s arm off of her so that she can stand up.

You look at Jungkook, and you both nod.

“Finally! For fucks sake. It took you long enough.” Yoongi groans out of nowhere, expressing the thoughts that were on everyone mind. The whole room erupts into laughter, and snide comments about how cruel we were to trick everyone. Abby and Jimin expressing their annoyance with not being called immediately.

“We just thought it would be funny. We know you guys have been placing bets on when it would happen, “Jungkook says as his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you in closer to him as he buries his nose in the crook of your neck.

An overwhelming feeling of contentment washes over you. Jungkook’s lips lightly brushing against your shoulder as if he needed to make up for the time that he wasn’t able to. His fingers laced with yours as his thumb brushes the back of your hand. It felt so natural. Even everyone around you had seemed to move on, clearly it felt right to them too.

His lips trail from your shoulder up to your ear, moving your hair out of the way, “No one will ever wonder if we’re together anymore. From now on, everyone will know that you’re mine and I’m yours.”

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Taglist:

@cainami @carolsummerlove @zeharilisharaban @jikooksgirl19 @fallen-for-luke @madygswich @sugalarity @lofikoo @ggukkieeee @peachy-bhun @megs58298 @kawaiiayasan @ jeonchan26 @ambersaesthetics @hopekookies @rumpucis @iaintnohollybackgirl

A/N: THANK YOU for your patience on this chapter. There will be one more chapter (maybe two) after this one! I got a new job and life has been hectic. Please let me know what you think! (let all of your favorite writers know how much you love their work! We appreciate it more than you know!)

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actual-fucking-clown · 4 years ago

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Take your time then.

Aizawa x gender neutral reader

Story under the cut :)

Unedited but like edited but still not properly edited :)

Hope you enjoy!!!

a/n: it’s been a hot min since I’ve written a fic. I think the last time i was 14 and it was shit and on wattpad. Ha. I hate myself. N e way, I was recently writing some shit for an au me and my friend thought up and in the back of my mind I was like, “you should start writing fics again bc this is kinda fun”, soo lo and behold I made a post asking if anyone would be interested, shared a little too much personal shit in it but whatever, and have now decided to write this mother fucker. (3/25/21)

a/n: not sure if anyone will care about this series of a/n’s but I’m just chronicling thoughts ig. rewriting rn bc my first draft was short and ass. Also I’m thinking about opening requests after this is posted, will go into detail in a diff post maybe. (3/28/21)

a/n: deleted everything, rewriting. I just want to make something that might be decent and if I can give that feeling, y’know those chills you get when you read something utterly gorgeous, but I’m bad at writing. sadge (3/28/21, like several hours later)

a/n: ugh (4/1/21)

a/n: ugh pt 2 electric boogaloo. I can’t seem to move forward with the writing. I realized something like this might happen bc to solve a problem feelings need to be discussed and I fucking hate doing that so you can see where I’m fucking up lmaooooo (4/2/21)

a/n: I read angst to fuel my writing brain. So, read some angst, finally writing agian. This first section is probs as long as the story itself LMFAO(4/5/21)

Started: (3/25/21) Finished: (4/5/21)

Warnings: uh angst, curse words, like a lot, (i saw someone else put this as a warning, do I actually need it?), avoiding problems instead of actually facing them, mentions of shit so-so parenting, mentions of not being able to live up to high expectations, y’know, the works

Synopsis: Aizawa takes in Eri without running it by you first and expects you to be okay with it. That’s funny. He was wrong.

Can I preface this with a thought? I’m going to anyway,

all the fics I read paint him as the sweetest partner and I’m sure he is but I think they miss out on how blunt he is and his whole “Mr. Rationality” thing. So as much as I adore him I think there are situations that he’d be a bit more colder towards, a bit more straightforward about. Maybe even like a bit insensitive about but maybe bc he doesn’t have the full picture or something. so I guess this is another warning but aizawa is a little insensitive in the beginning (but like not really but kinda. it’s complicated)

Rain pattered softly against the window. The smell of some old random Bath and Bodyworks candle you’d dug out from a box you’d never bothered to unpack smothered the room. Some Netflix show idly played on a low volume on your computer, you’d lost interest in watching tv awhile ago. You needed a break. After the eventful month you’d been having you really needed this.

Now of course your whole year so far had been eventful. What with all the villain attacks on you and Shouta’s class and the kidnapping of one of your students, to just dealing with the more mundane problems with your students. No. You had no problem with that. The villains, although not easy, were something you were trained to handle. The smaller problems with your students weren’t arduous either, after all you weren’t too much older than them.

When reflecting on your situation, from and outside perspective it could be seen as the straw the broke the camels back, which sure, makes sense. After all, you’re bound to be stressed out by everything else, so why would this seemingly insignificant thing weigh heavier than a villain attack? Well if that is the situation why does this single straw feel like it weighs a ton? This is not that. This is not culmination of the events of this year draining the life from you. This is something entirely different. A panic inducing life change that completely took you by surprise mixed with your inability to actually face your problems.

You don’t blame them. You can’t. They’ve done nothing wrong. A child. A small, probably mentally scarred child is your problem. Well not her personally but the fear taking care of her instills in you. Despite working in the field that you do, you cannot for the life of you handle actual children. Sure you’re a little awkward with your class but at least they’re young adults and (vaguely) mature and independent to a certain extent. The fact that your long term boyfriend just came back one day, small child in tow and said “Hey I’ve gotta look after this one now” not verbatim obviously, for a lack of better words, fucked you up. He basically solo adopted a kid and, let’s be honest, he probably expected you to help out. But how could you? How could this man look at you and think “I want this person to help me raise an already fucked up child?” Ok sure, he doesn’t at first give off the “I’m totally father figure material” vibe but in the end he is extremely competent. You on the other hand, not so much.

You’d never been good with children. Tried your best to steer clear of them. Didn’t matter the place, didn’t matter who’s kid, you couldn’t handle them. You would just stand there, awkwardly, not entirely sure of what to do and petrified that there was the possibility of making some mistake which would upset the child and then oh wow look, your head got chopped right of your shoulders. That’s hyperbole of course but it does sum up the insurmountable fear that overcomes you whenever you have to deal with a child. So considering the fact that your long term boyfriend had suddenly decided to adopt and not at least warn you, didn’t sit right with you.

So, the best and most obvious choice, was to avoid your problem. Avoid Shouta, avoid Eri. Avoid the mention of them and you, avoid it all. And honestly you’d done pretty well so far. You were able to have as little contact with them as possible considering the close proximity of your living quarters in the teacher’s dorms. After all they were legally supposed to give you two separate rooms but you never actually used yours, well until now. You were living it up honestly. Did you feel awful? Of course. He is your boyfriend after all and you were sure Eri doesn’t deserve your cold shoulder but this is probably for the best. What could you offer her? You weren’t sure that you were a good role model for her or anyone for that matter. What did you know about raising kids? it’s not like you had parents to set a proper example for you. Of course they might have shown you what not to do but where do you go from there? Is shit like that really avoidable? You don’t want to be like them. You strive to be better but what if you can’t be. There’s also the added bonus of the fact that raising a kid seems taxing on a relationship. Now matter how strong you were sure that the stress of a kid could break a relationship down that then festers into something toxic and unrecognizable. You didn’t want that. God you couldn’t let that happen. No. This was definitely for the better.

Of course Aizawa didn’t feel the same. He was confused on why his partner had been so blatantly avoiding him. Did he do something wrong? He doesn’t remember doing anything that might’ve upset you. So why now? Why pull away now? He had to get down to the bottom of this but catching you was the hard part. You had been taking on more work, offering more assistance to the other teachers, picking up extra patrols, doing everything and anything to stay away from Shouta. It took him a month but he finally caught up to you. You were tired, worn out he knew that. Instead of loading yourself with work you’d decided to hole yourself up in your room. It was now or never.

You were pulled out of your peace at the sound of a few gentle knocks to your door. You really didn’t want to get it. You honestly couldn’t be bothered.

“(N/n)? Are you in there?” He hadn’t gotten it wrong right? He hadn’t been too distracted earlier and missed you leaving right?

“What’s up?” You hummed from your place by the window, not bothering to actually open the door.

“Can I come in?” Shouta asked, voice soft. You could barely hear him above the patter of the rain and the low humming of your laptop.

“Uh, no, kinda busy. Got loads of work to do. Need to focus, sorry. Maybe later?” You hesitantly spoke. Not sure if you were convincing enough.

Apparently you weren’t.

He sighed. “It’s been “later” for an entire month. Please (Y/n) just let me in. Whatever this is we can talk it out.” You had predicted that eventually Shouta would start to try to crack down on whatever the issue was but you didn’t expect it so soon.

“Uh...no?” You tried, hoping that maybe he’d just give up but that wasn’t Shouta.

“No, you don’t get that option, now please, open the door.” Although it was still soft his voice had taken a more stern tone.

“Oh no I’m dead. I guess I can’t open the door. What a shame. I guess the only way to talk with me now is in the pits of hell.” You quipped, trying to lessen the tension that already ran thick.

“(Y/n).” Aizawa sighed.

“Jeez fine. Talk about pushy.” You quipped once more to no avail.

Opening the door you were met with, well exactly what you expected. He stood there, arms crossed, a stern yet gentle look in his eyes, his lips pulled into a slight frown.

“Come in.” You mumbled as you stepped further into your room.

“So tell me. What’s wrong?” The sentence stirred so much. Of course you wanted to tell him. You wanted to spill your guts to the man you loved in hopes of comfort but you just can’t. You know you’ll just scare him off. You know you’ll make things worse.

So you stay silent.

He says nothing as he grabs your hands gently and leads you over to your bed. He sits the two of you down on the edge, muting the movie on the laptop sitting behind him.

“You know you can tell me if something’s bothering you right?” Shouta sent you a warm smile.

You weren’t very comfortable with discussing your feelings sometimes, it mostly stemmed from the fact that you never really could discuss them with anyone growing up which made it harder to confide in anyone now, as at this point bottling things up was a habit. But this was also just something that you were sure that you couldn’t talk about.

Silence answered him once again.

Now he took sometime to think about his approach, think about what could’ve happened that made you pull away. What did he do that was different from his norm? He was genuinely stumped and the fact that you weren’t helping him confused him even more.

You decided to take this time to lament the situation too. What was he going to do? Should you actually tell him or play it off? If you play it off will he still insist that something is wrong? If you tell him will he leave you? If you don’t tell him will he leave you? You risked a glance at him, he was still deep in thought.

Why did you have to adopt this fucking kid without at least warning me?

“What?” Your head shot up at the sound of his shocked voice.

“What?” You asked, genuinely confused.

“Eri’s the problem...?” He spoke slowly, not entirely sure if he’d heard you right.

“Did I say that out loud?” You squeaked.

“I’m pretty sure you mumbled something along the lines of “why’d you have to adopt that fucking kid”.” Shouta said, unsure if he’d heard wrong. Wanting to have heard wrong.

“No no no no no no! It’s not like that! I mean it is like that but not like that!” You frantically waved your hands in hopes of defusing the situation.

The way he looked at you made you want to cry. You felt horrible. You felt like the biggest asshole in the world and, at this point you probably were. He looked at you with such a look of heartbreak and disappointment and confusion it made you sick to your stomach. You felt light-headed and started shaking. You were right. You were right. You were always right. God why did you have to be right! Why did you have to be like this? Scared of raising a fucking child! It was asinine and irrational and you could probably move past it but thanks to your stupid fucking brain you just sealed your fate.

You scooted away from him still waving your hands frantically as no’s tumbled endlessly from your lips. You tried sputtering an apology, anything so that he wouldn’t look at you like that but nothing stuck. Nothing was comprehensible. Nothing worked. Nothing would work. Nothing will work. You were hopeless. It was hopeless.

“If it isn’t like how it seems then tell it to me straight.” Shouta finally spoke up.

You took a second to come down from your panic. You steeled your nerves as much as possible before you spoke.

“Um well, I have nothing against her it’s just that a little heads up would’ve been nice? I’m not all that great with kids so this is just kind of weird is all.” You were purposefully being vague in hopes that he’d understand what you meant and also maybe drop it.

“Not great with kids? You’re literally a teacher.” He pointed out.

“Yeah you know but she’s like a kid kid and let’s be honest I’m not too great with the students either.” You awkward laughed. So he wasn’t getting it.

“Wha-you’re fine with the students and I’m sure you’ll be fine with Eri, there was no reason to avoid me over this.” Shouta sighed. As good as he was with dealing with people, he was equally as shit. Or maybe it was just the fact that you gave him very little to work with. It was probably a bit of both. Still his dismissiveness was not helping you right now.

“No, no, no, no. I think I’ll stay here. Uh, good luck with your parenthood escapades and sorry to leave you high and dry like this but that’s going to have to be a no from me.” You rambled. He seemed to be getting a little tired of this.

“(Y/n) stop being irrational. She’s not even our kid I’m just looking after her for now. Why are you being difficult? I told you you were fine with the students and you’ll be fine with Eri, what else do you want to hear?” Shouta grumbled.

“Well uh I don’t know, uh...” You trailed off, this seemed to be going in a direction you really didn’t want it to go. A slight hostility settling in the air.

At your lack of a proper answer he clicked his tongue. He took a moment to reassess the situation. There had to be something he was missing. After all you were getting really worked up but if you weren’t going to talk to him there was nothing he could do. He shook his head before running a frustrated hand through his hair.

“(Y/n), please, please, just be honest with me. Whatever it is that’s bothering you, you can tell me. But I won’t be able to understand if you don’t.” Aizawa sighed, deciding that getting worked up about this was not the way to go, especially when you seemed to be especially distraught.

“Uh, god the thing is I don’t know entirely what to say to put the shitshow in my head into perspective.” You mumbled, trying desperately to figure out what to say that could clear the air but nothing seemed to be coherent enough.

“Take your time.” He decided that this was the best approach to things, making sure neither party got too worked up lest this turn into a fight.

The rain continued to patter softly against the window and your candle continued to burn an slightly off floral-ish scent. A deafening silence hung in the air because even though he was being as patient as possible some of his frustration leaked through, it was bound to though so you couldn’t exactly blame him. After all, you were probably equally as frustrated with yourself too.

“I’m just not good in a position like this. I’m not good with kids, especially someone like Eri who’s already so broken. You have that nurturing nature, it comes natural to you but I’m not on that level. I don’t know the first thing about caring for a child let alone one as already traumatized as her. I’d fuck it up and only make things worse. I don’t want you to reassure me that I’ll be okay with her, I want you to understand that I’m not comfortable with this and that it might take me awhile to come around. I’m sure I sound like the biggest asshole ever but please understand that this just isn’t something I’m ready for.” You had rambled a bit, you were aware of that, but it was the only way that you could properly express your feelings without making things too complicated.

Aizawa said nothing. Trying to figure out how to go about things.

Was he upset? Yeah, you two, even after several long years of being together, hadn’t discussed moving forward in your relationship in depth. And if he’d tried you seemed content with the point you two were at so he left it be, no reason to try and move forward when what you had was already fine the way it was. But recently he’d been craving more. Some mornings, when he’d be the first to wake, he’d study your features in the soft light of the sunrise and wonder what it’d be like to properly settle down with you. Get married, start a family, all that jazz. He’d taken in Eri only because it was the most rational decision. His quirk would be good for quelling hers had it ever gotten out of hand. But it also seemed to quell his musings of something more with you. He had imagined you being a good parental figure for the little girl and it made his heart flutter and his stomach explode with butterflies. But now seeing that that wasn’t what you wanted and how you weren’t ready for it, it stung. But in the end, he loved you. He’d easily give his life for you. So, if that meant waiting he’d wait. He’d wait a million years if he had to. He could do it.

Once again he spoke,

“Take your time then. I can wait.”

Tagslist?: @captainchrisstan (I think you said you wanted to be tagged but I’m also just small brained lol If u didn’t want to and I misinterpreted things just let me know :) )

#bnha x reader #mha xreader #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta #aizawa #my first fic #mha #bnha

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bangtanreadingcorner · 4 years ago

Text

despite it all • park jimin

chapter one — bandaid

plot — you never could ignore someone who needs help. not even a gang member.

words — 3.1K

You were walking home from a night out with friends, the pleasant buzz of alcohol in your veins making you feel giddy and floaty as you hummed softly. The street was quiet but in the distance you could hear people laughing, sirens of an ambulance, a barking dog and it gave you a sense of security and familiarity.

What was most definitely not familiar was the man rounding a corner, and almost slamming into you. You yelp, taking a quick step backwards, heart stopping before it skyrockets. You have apparently underestimated the amount of alcohol you've had to drink because that quick step causes you to loose your balance, and unable to regain it, you fall to the ground, landing ass first.

You contemplate just sitting there until the morning but when the man you almost bumped into lets out a pained groan, your eyes flicker up to him. Horror fills you as you take in his blood stained appearance. There is blood on his shirt, his pants, his face. His one hand was holding his side and his knuckles are bloody.

You scramble to your feet, suddenly much more sober than you were two seconds ago, "Oh my God, are you okay? Ah, nevermind, stupid question. You're covered in blood, you couldn't possibly be okay. Is there someone I can call for you? Ohhh, I know, I can call an ambulance."

A hand grasps around the wrist of the hand going for the phone on the inside pocket of your jacket, fingers strong and grip tight. His voice is low and husky when he speaks, "No. No ambulance."

Trying to press down the mounting panic in your chest, you swallow thickly. "Dude, not to be stating the obvious, but you are covered in blood."

"Most of it's not even mine." He says around a cough, eyes drooping, bracing himself against the wall.

Your eyes widen when you process his words and you twist your wrist in his grip, wanting to pull away and run. You clear your throat, running your eyes over him. "Well you look like you're going to be fine, so I'll just go."

He nods tiredly, letting go of your wrist, a strand of his blonde dyed hair falling into half closed, exhausted eyes, his breathing hard, and your heart twists. You want to help him and you're about to offer, when you remember his words from just seconds ago.

Most of it's not even mine.

Which means that he probably hurt whoever's blood is on him. Which means that this is a dangerous person, the kind of person you run from, not help. Judging from the tattoo in his neck, he's in a gang. You don't know what exactly everything about the different gang tattoos and what every stripe or cross means but everyone knows that anyone with a serpent tattoo is part of the most dangerous gang in the province. Maybe even the country.

You walk past him, intent on going home and forgetting about this incident. Your try putting it out of your head as you cross streets and your small apartment comes closer, but it doesn't work. At the next street you have to cross, you look back, and see the man still bracing himself against the wall as he walks slowly. He stops, resting with his back against the wall.

You bite your lip, your heart at war with your head, torn between doing the right thing and the safe thing. You look at the man again – gang member or no, he's still a person who needs help – and your heart wins the fight.

"Fuck it." You mutter to yourself before taking of in a light jog, back to the injured man. His body tenses up, like he's preparing for a fight, and his eyes snap open when he hears you approaching, hard and cold and it terrifies you a little. It's almost enough to make you turn around again. But then recognition flashes in his eyes and his tensed shoulders relaxes. You look at him silently for a moment and then you blurt out, "Where are you hurt?"

"None of your fucking business." He breathes, moving his eyes from you to the night sky.

"Rude." You clack your tongue at him, risking a step closer. "Are you bleeding anywhere? Or is all of this blood the other guy's?"

He looked at you again, something feral and definitely dangerous glinting in his eyes. "Who says there was just one?"

Instead of fear, you can feel your annoyance rising, "Can you answer the question and stop deflecting?"

His brows furrowed, clearly confused. "What are you doing here? Weren't you on your way home or something?"

Fully annoyed now, you glare at him. "I'm trying helping you, you ungrateful ass."

Amusement flickers in his eyes, "Well you're not doing a very good job of it."

"Well, you're not making it very easy." You retort, deciding to just take matters into your own hands. You step close to him before taking his arm and bringing it around your shoulders, noticing that he winces when you lift his arm. "Let's go." You tell him, tugging gently until he starts walking in the direction he came from and where you're going.

"You have no idea who I am, do you?" He asks. You glance up at him, seeing a smirk on his lips.

"I have some idea." You say, giving a pointed look to the tattoo in his neck.

"So, you know I'm in a gang." He concludes. "And that I most likely got my injuries from doing something illegal."

"Yes." You nod. "And speaking of injuries, are you bleeding?"

"Not that I know of." He answers. He wobbles a bit and you stop, waiting until he regains his footing before continuing. "And you don't care?" He asks curiously.

"Of course I care and in normal circumstances I'd probably call the police, but you're hurt and you need help, not the police. So, I'm going to help you."

"What if I'm an assassin with a thing for cutting woman into pieces?" He sounds amused, like this whole situation is a source of entertainment for him.

"Wouldn't that be a way to go." You deadpan.

He snickers and then goes quiet for a while before asking, "Are you going to call the cops?"

"Are you going to hurt me?" You ask instead of answering.

"No." He sounds like he means it but that doesn't really reassure you. "Not unless you give me a reason too." And that actually does make you feel a little better.

"Well, there you go then." You tell him.

"I should just take your word for it?" You can feel him looking at you, but you ignore his gaze, focusing on watching your step. He wasn't resting all of his weight on you, you could tell, but the added weight still slowed you down and caused strain on your muscles but you ignore it, intent on helping him.

"Considering the fact that I'm taking a stranger who is a literal gang member and a potential killer into my home, you really don't have any ground for that argument." You inform him matter-of-factly. You rewind your words and lament that maybe your are as crazy as your cousin accuses you of being.

"Your home?" He whistles, but starts coughing halfway through. "Buy a guy dinner first."

"Hah!" You scoff, ignoring the way your cheeks burn from his teasing. "I'm helping you. If anyone is going to be buying dinner, it's going to be you."

"I'm Jimin, by the way. If you're going to help me, the least I could do is tell you my name." He says, and when you look at him, he looks sincere and a little shy.

"Y/N." You tell him.

You reach your apartment without any incidents or without running into anyone – a man covered in blood would have raised questions – and you navigate it in the dark, leading him to your couch before going back to the door and locking it and flipping on the lights. You turn back to him, watching as he looks around your place. You couldn't help but feel a little self conscious. "I know it's no palace, but it's mine and you're only gonna be here for one night. Unless you plan on leaving directly after I help you."

"I like it, it feels comfortable. Like a home." Jimin tells you, face softer than its been since the moment you met him. You stare a little, but then you notice the blood on his face again and you look away.

"You should go and take a shower. I'll give you the biggest clothes I'll have, so don't worry about that. I'll wash yours and put it in the dryer, so it will be clean for when you leave. I'm pretty sure if you walk down the street with blood stained clothes in broad daylight, someone is bound to call the police." You are rambling and you're perfectly aware of it, but you're nervous.

He nods and gets to his feet, wincing. "Which way is the bathroom?"

You point, "Down the hall to your left. Do you need help?"

Jimin gives you a slight smile, "I'll manage."

You wait until you hear the shower running before you go to your room, hunting down your biggest hoodie and pair of sweatpants. You knock on the bathroom door, letting Jimin know you're leaving the clothes outside the bathroom door.

You wait on the couch for Jimin to finish, wondering what your mother would say if she could see you now.

You bite down a smile when Jimin comes out of the bathroom, towel drying his hair. The sweatpants are obviously too small, ending high above his ankles, the fabric stretching over his thighs – and if you spend an extra second looking at those muscular thighs then it was no one's business. The hoodie seemed to fit just right, but he didn't zip it up. Your eyes is glued to his chest, not because it was eye-catching – oh and it was eye-catching alright, a defined six pack was waving at you almost mockingly – but because of the bruises.

"Like what you see?" Jimin's teasing voice brings you out of your staring stupor.

"I-" You cut yourself off, suddenly choked up by emotion.

His eyes widened and he walks as quickly as he can to you. "Hey, no, no, it looks worse than it is. You should see the other guys."

"That doesn't really make me feel better, but thanks for trying." You tell him, blinking hard, and getting up from the couch. "I'm going to get my first aid box."

While in the bathroom, you toss Jimin's bloody clothes into your cleaning bucket, making a mental to wash it as soon as you're done helping him.

You walk to where he's sitting on your couch, going down on you knees so you could face him. You notice the gun laying next to him and your heart almost jumps out of your chest. You give him an unimpressed stare, "Seriously?"

He gives you a smug smirk, "It's for protection."

"From what? My bandaids?" You ask sarcastically.

"Gang member, remember?" Jimin says, like you need the reminder, and you pull a face at him.

You ignore his chuckle to inspect his face, and the first thing you notice is how attractive he is. (But that doesn't matter because you're only helping him and then he's leaving.) The second thing you notice is that there is just a few scratch marks on his face, nothing too serious. You clean it up with some antiseptic, a little impressed that he doesn't even wince.

"Okay, I need to take a look at your chest now, make sure none of your ribs are broken, so will you sit a little forward?" You ask him and Jimin does as he's asked.

"You don't seem too bothered by the presence of a gun." Jimin comments, obviously curious as you run your hands over his ribs (he tenses for the first five seconds then relaxes), pressing against it, feeling carefully.

You shrug, "My dad was a cop, and while he didn't parade his around, I got used to them nonetheless."

"Past tense." Jimin observes, eyes on your face. You can feel his gaze and it causes goosebumps to rise on your skin. "Is he dead or retired?"

Your hands falter for a moment at the blunt question. You swallow thickly, continuing your path over his ribs. "He died in the line of duty."

"What happened?" He asks.

You look him in the eye, "He got caught in the crossfire of a gang war."

"Oh." Jimin sounds like someone knocked the breath from him. Silence falls around you and it lasts until you finish your exam of Jimin's chest before he says, "I'm sorry."

You look up, "Are you really?"

"What's that suppose to mean?" He frowns at you.

"Don't say something you don't mean. I'd prefer it if you said nothing at all." You eye the bruises on his chest, wondering how people can do that to each other. "There doesn't seem to be anything broken but you definitely cracked a few of them and it's gonna hurt like a bitch, come the morning."

"How do you know all of this?" He questions.

"I'm a paramedic." You answer, reaching for his left hand, remembering that his knuckles was bloodied before the shower.

"That explains a lot." He grabs your wrist with the hand you're not holding, holding onto it almost gently. "Look, about what you said just now, you're helping me despite the fact that it could have been one of my people that killed your dad." He squeezes your wrist, looking into your eyes imploringly. "I mean it."

You shrug, tilting your head. "Yeah, well, my mom always said I can't hold a grudge to save my life."

When you're done cleaning up and bandaging his hands, you pick up the bottle of pills you brought with you. You shake out a few pills before standing to go and fetch him a glass of water. You held out the water and the pills onto him, "Here. You've got to be in a world of hurt right now."

"What is that?" He asks, eyeing the white tablets laying on your hand.

You sigh, "Just some paracetamol. It's all I have. Just because I'm a paramedic doesn't mean I keep hospital grade medicine stocked in my home."

"Four of them?" Jimin's eyebrows went up. "Are you trying to overdose me?"

You squint at him, "Don't be such a baby. I take three at a time for my headaches and I am willing to bet my right kidney that you're hurting worse than my headaches usually are."

You pack up your first aid box and when you put it away, you bring the bucket with Jimin's bloodied clothing. You filled it halfway with water and then walked to the kitchen. You empty half your salt supply into the water before using your hands to rinse the clothing.

"Why are you washing my clothes with salt?" Jimin's voice comes from behind you.

You startle for a second before taking a deep breath and answering him, "I'm not washing it, I'm rinsing it with cold water and salt, to get the blood out of your clothes."

"Seriously? That works?" Jimin asks, surprise clear in his voice.

"Yep."

"I could have saved so much money that I wasted on new clothes each time I had a bloodstain on something, if I had known that." He whines and you look over your shoulder, finding yourself strangely endeared when you see the pout his lips is pulled into.

"I'd rather not know." You snort, shaking your hands off and heading to the sink to wash them. You dry your hands, leaning against your counter as you let the clothes soak for a bit.

"You haven't asked." Jimin says out of nowhere. He was leaning against your fridge, looking exhausted, but his eyes watched you intently.

You know what he was talking about. The bruises, and where he got them, the other guys he mentioned. He had been expecting you to ask, and you never did. You cross your arms over your chest. "It's none of my business."

"It's not." He agrees.

"See." You give him a slight smile.

"Still. Most people would ask." He says, tilting his head as he looked you up and down.

"Yeah, well, I figure I'm better of going down Plausible Deniability avenue and Better Of Not Knowing street in this case."

That gets a genuine laugh out of him, his eyes scrunching and a breathtaking smile on his lips. It's bright and cheerful and your stomach swoops. You are unable to not smile back at him.

After rinsing his clothes and putting it in the washing machine, you go back to the living room, only to find Jimin fast asleep on your couch. Something inside of you goes very soft as you watch him sleep. He looks years younger, completely relaxed.

You take the step ladder from your kitchen and tiptoe back to your room, getting the extra duvet from the top of your closet. You grab one of the four pillows on your bed and you head back to the living room. Gently, you lift Jimin's head and slip the pillow underneath it, half afraid he would wake up. When he doesn't, you breathed a quiet sigh of relief and throw the blanket over him. As you tuck him in, you spot the handle of his gun, pressed into the back of the couch.

You hope the safety is on.

***

When you wake up the next morning, Jimin is gone.

Placed on top of the pillow and folded duvet stacked on your couch, is a piece of paper with writing on.

Y/N,

I put your clothes in the washing machine after getting dressed, so you just have to dry it. I figured it was the least I could do after all the trouble I gave you.

I mean what I said last night, I really am sorry about your dad.

If you ever need my help, doesn't matter if it's something dumb like a lift somewhere or something a little more serious like taking someone out for you, you can find me at the bar on 17th Street. Chances are, I'll be there. If not, ask for Taehyung and tell him Jimin sent you.

Thank you for everything.

- Jimin -

P.S. I hope I see you again someday.

***

chapter 2

A/N: this is going to be a multi-chapter/part story. I don't know how many yet, just that there will be more!! Also, I am not a medical professional, so just go with the medical inconsistencies. I promise they won't be too far fetched.

#bangtan #bangtan fanfic #bts fic #park jimin #bts jimin #jimin imagine #park jimin x oc #park jimin x reader #park jimin x you #jimin #jimin x oc #jimin x reader #jimin x you

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halothenthehorns · 3 years ago

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TLTNL- A VERY FROSTY CHRISTMAS

"Don't be ridiculous Harry!" Lily said at once.

"Honestly, your friends haven't even been that bad," James agreed while making a face at such a deceleration. He didn't want to think of his son ever being alone again, especially not this forced isolation he seemed so determined about lately. Ron and Hermione weren't being that bad.

"Nobody believes me!" Harry insisted. "Even when they do hear this, and they'll have to admit I was right, someone's still going to tell me to leave it alone, and I can't!" He could not seem to erase that feeling, a deep sense of foreboding.

"Ron and Hermione do believe you," Sirius halfheartedly scolded. "So did we, if not as much as you would have liked! Arthur even went so far as to check up on all this with only your hunch. Now you're coming back with even better, I know you'll make something of this and you'll still have the same backup as you did before."

Harry didn't look very convinced. He'd wondered a few times now just how much those around him would have believed, if at all, if that second chapter hadn't existed. He shoved that way though, no need pestering himself further, and just sighed as his mother began what he hoped was a good break for him.

Unknown voice confirming Snape was definitely offering help, multiple times.

"With a coloring book maybe, otherwise it's beyond both of them," Remus snipped. Harry looked mildly offended for a moment before he recognized the joking tone Remus had really used, and quickly shook off the feeling of being frustrated with Professor Lupin he was sure he was imagining.

Harry threatened if he asked that one more time, he was going to shove this sprout-

Ron backed off, insisting he was just checking!

"No no, you finish those kinds of threats!" James insisted. "It's far healthier."

"For who?" Sirius demanded, having been on the receiving end of those one too many times.

"Yourself obviously, vents it out instead of bottling it up, something Harry should partake in more," James smirked.

They were standing alone at the Burrow's kitchen sink, peeling a mountain of sprouts for Mrs. Weasley. Snow was drifting past the window in front of them.

"Always a place of cheer," Remus muttered while trying not to wince about the last Christmas Harry had attended. At least Sirius enjoyed his last.

Harry continued yes, Snape was offering help! Something about his Malfoy's mother making an Unbreakable Oath-

Unbreakable Vow, Ron corrected.

Harry asked if he knew what that was, and Ron said you couldn't break it.

Harry replied he'd worked that much out for himself, funnily enough.

"Are you sure?" Sirius turned to him in mock concern. "I was quite worried there it wasn't obvious enough for you."

"You're obtuse enough for anyone," Remus rolled his eyes.

He asked what happened when it was broken, and Ron simply said you died.

"Oh, is that all," Harry tried to laugh off while clenching his hand in concern. If he'd made one, and somehow broke it now without remembering...he shivered fearfully and clenched his fist, hoping he'd never been so stupid.

Ron gave the example the twins had once tried to do the same to him, but dad had come in before they could, he'd gone mental. Only time he'd ever seen his dad as angry as his Mum could get,

"With good reason," Lily murmured. She couldn't imagine her children doing that to each other, it seemed unthinkable.

"I'm blasted they even got as far as they did," James shivered. Even if Bill, as the eldest, had somehow passed down the knowledge, that was foolhardy! Those little kids really could have permanently hurt each other!

Fred still reckoned his buttock was never the same.

Harry said passing over the twins buttock-

"A shame for them I'm sure," Remus snorted.

Said twins voice entered, Fred saying he begged their pardon?

"Moony was wrong?!" Sirius gasped, looking wildly from the book to his mate.

"Technically I was right, he was offended they were passing over such a thing," Remus said stoutly.

George happily greeted them by commending them using knives like Muggles!

Ron grumbled he'd be seventeen in just a few months, then he could use magic whenever he liked as well.

"Can he really though?" James asked with only mild interest. Ron could have learned this particular spell from his mum after all, but kitchen spells weren't something he'd ever bothered to learn. His mum or Lily were far more proficient so he'd never a need.

George, sitting down at the kitchen table and putting his feet up on it,

"Which his mother loves I'm sure," Lily muttered.

said in the meantime, they could enjoy the correct demonstration-

Fred interrupted he was sure Ron would dazzle them all with hitherto unsuspected magical skills.

"He just might," Remus sniffed in defense. The twins had only ever seen Ron in the DA, they'd yet to see him show any real potential.

George went on speaking of such hitherto unsuspected skills, their dear sister had recently informed them of a Lavender Brown now in the picture?

"Ginny passing the buck I see," James indulged in his own pun just to chuckle at Ron's misfortune here.

"I wish he hadn't," Lily harrumphed. That had really been what had started this whole mess.

After Sirius was done mock wiping a tear away and telling Prongs how proud he was of that pun, he said, "ah well, Ron gets a chance to indulge," without concern.

Ron turned a little pink, but did not look displeased as he turned back to the sprouts and told them to mind their own business.

"Ooh, didn't see that one coming," Remus said in surprise, all of them were really, thinking Ron would have taken this moment to show off a bit for his brothers. Either he was maturing past that, or there was something more with Lavender going on.

Fred mockingly complimented what a snappy retort that was, he really had no clue where Ron came up with them.

"It's actually more insulting that way," James said wisely, "you're not bothering to waste breath on anything more. It's beneath him really."

"You know when you say that?" Sirius challenged. "When you can't think of a good comeback!"

"I deny everything and regret nothing," he smirked.

Then he continued what had happened to the poor girl? Did she have an accident, extensive brain damage?

"By watching Quidditch. I always knew it caused brain damage, though never before just by watching," Lily said blithely.

"Now that one just hurt Lils!" Sirius protested.

"Considering it got me a chance to date her, I regret nothing," James said again without remorse.

Mrs. Weasley entered the room just in time to see Ron throw the sprout knife at Fred,

Lily winced hard, that was definitely overstepping bounds and she'd definitely be giving Ron a good telling off for that. It was only her faith in Fred's reflexes that stopped real retribution.

who had turned it into a paper airplane with one lazy flick of his wand, *

"An object to throw back, impressive for an on the spot job," Sirius chuckled.

"Bet you I could do one better!" James challenged at once.

"You lot will not be throwing any cutlery around here!" Lily said at once, only half heartedly scolding. She was well aware she couldn't really stop them if they got started.

"Don't worry Lily, I'm sure they won't," Remus cut in cheerfully before any more could be said, but when she turned away she swore he muttered something under his breath and Harry swallowed a laugh.

She at once furiously shouted at her youngest son she didn't ever want to see him throwing knives again.

"Oh I'm sure he won't," Remus said with all the innocence in the world. Lily narrowed her eyes at him, her previous worries all but confirmed now.

Ron muttered he wouldn't, let her see, he finished in even lower towns as she turned away from him.

All four boys snorted at that in appreciation, and Lily vowed to hide knives from these four for the next fortnight.

Molly turned to the twins and apologized Remus was coming over tonight,

"Moony's back!" Sirius cheered again.

"I've already been back in this book you twit," Remus rolled his eyes at him.

"It's been so long, I nearly forgot about you," he pretended to wipe a tear away while Remus tried, and failed, to fight back a smile.

James was beside himself beaming his last surviving friend wasn't spending his favorite holiday alone he didn't even have it in him to ask why he was staying the night. The idea was too horrific to imagine, Moony truly forever alone now, as if a forever full moon.

so Bill would have to squeeze in with them.

George agreed it was no problem at once.

"Why are the twins even staying there?" Remus asked in surprise, hating to think he was putting anyone out. "Especially with a house this full, surely they'd rather be in their shop."

"I'm sure Molly's insisting," Lily said quietly, a particular Weasley standing out in her mind of why the mother would want all the kids she could under one roof.

Charlie wasn't coming home, Harry and Ron would be in the attic while Fleur would be staying with Ginny-

"Which will make their holiday I'm sure," Sirius snickered.

Fred muttered that was sure to make Ginny's Christmas.

Sirius whooped with unrestrained joy, while James only watched him indulgently for a moment before telling him, "I'd be much more impressed you mimicked a twin if we weren't all thinking it."

"That just means we're all as spectacular as they are," Sirius's smile only grew.

"A higher compliment I've never been given," Lily chuckled.

Mrs. Weasley finished at least everyone would have a bed, while sounding slightly harassed.

Harry and Remus winced, neither wanting to put the woman out at all, while the others just smiled with gratitude for such open hospitality for those who needed it.

Fred confirmed their last brother wasn't showing his face then?

Lily winced, that wasn't at all the right thing to make any of this better.

Mrs. Weasley turned away before carefully saying she suspected Percy was busy at work.

Or the world's biggest prat, Fred stated as Molly left the kitchen. It was one of those two.

"A real pondering of pigheaded problems," Remus sourly agreed.

Then the two departed as well to go out.

Ron impolitely asked them to finish these sprouts for them so they could go too.

Fred very seriously spoke he couldn't be doing that,

Sirius' smirk only grew impossibly wider as he stated, "well lookie there, now they're actively impersonating me! Doing a spectacular job of it too!"

"You're right, you never do help me out in the kitchen either," Lily rolled her eyes.

that was very character building stuff, peeling sprouts by hand, made one appreciate Muggles and Squibs.

"Something more people should appreciate," James agreed honestly.

George finished with the helpful hint if Ron really wanted someone's help, try not throwing knives at them, while giving the paper airplane a toss back.

"Well how else are you supposed to threaten, err, ask for help?" Sirius asked with a truly baffled expression.

"I've attempted to murder some of my best friends, and they never seemed to hold it against me," Remus agreed sardonically.

Lily couldn't help a surprised giggle while the boys laughed outright.

They were going down to the village, there was a paper girl who thought Fred's card tricks were like real magic!

Sirius had only just stopped laughing at Moony and now was snickering away once again, vividly remembering pulling this a few times himself.

Ron called them gits before turning back to Harry to continue their conversation, asking if he was going to tell Dumbledore about what he'd overheard?

Harry agreed he was top of the list.

Ron said what a pity it was Harry hadn't heard what Malfoy was actually doing.

Harry agreed, but said that was the point, he was refusing to tell even Snape.

"I hate still not knowing anything, even when we knew something before them," James huffed.

Ron piped up the idea Dumbledore and anyone else Harry would tell would probably say Snape was only offering Malfoy help on Dumbledore's behalf anyways.

"Can you blame them?" Lily said quickly before anyone else could make a more cutting remark.

Harry insisted even Snape wasn't that good an actor.

"I didn't know he could act at all, he's certainly never bothered to act like a decent person," James said in disgust.

Harry laughed mechanically while ignoring the gnawing feeling eating away at him.

Then he turned to Ron, demanding that's what he thought?

Ron quickly said otherwise, seriously!

"You know I do, Ron didn't need to repeat that," Sirius chirped, clearly never growing tired of Harry laughing at that any more than Harry seemed to grow tired of hearing it.

Everyone else was still convinced of his allegiance to the Order though.

Harry said nothing. It had already occurred to him that this would be the most likely objection to his new evidence; he could hear Hermione now: Obviously, Harry, he was pretending to offer help so he could trick Malfoy into telling him what he's doing. . . .

"Bet you a Galleon that's exactly what Hermione says," James chose to say instead of something else to upset his wife.

"Nah, Harry knows his friends too well," Sirius shrugged off.

This was pure imagination, however, as he had had no opportunity to tell Hermione what he had overheard. She had disappeared from Slughorn's party before he returned to it, or so he had been informed by an irate McLaggen, and she had already gone to bed by the time he returned to the common room. As he and Ron had left for the Burrow early the next day, he had barely had time to wish her a happy Christmas and to tell her that he had some very important news when they got back from the holidays. He was not entirely sure that she had heard him, though; Ron and Lavender had been saying a thoroughly nonverbal goodbye just behind him at the time.

"And why would that distract her?" Remus asked innocently.

"I'll tell you later Moony," Sirius chuckled.

Still, even Hermione would not be able to deny one thing: Malfoy was definitely up to something, and Snape knew it, so Harry felt fully justified in saying, I told you so, which he had done several times to Ron already.

"Something you really should have saved more for Hermione, she indulges in it the most," James nodded.

Harry did not get the chance to speak to Mr. Weasley, who was working very long hours at the Ministry, until Christmas Eve night. The Weasleys and their guests were sitting in the living room, which Ginny had decorated so lavishly that it was rather like sitting in a paper-chain explosion.

"Which I'm sure you complimented her for generously," Sirius winked at Harry, who merely blushed as answer.

Fred, George, Harry, and Ron were the only ones who knew that the angel on top of the tree was actually a garden gnome that had bitten Fred on the ankle as he pulled up carrots for Christmas dinner.

All five of them snorted in surprise, Lily going on with genuine curiosity for this explanation.

Stupefied, painted gold, stuffed into a miniature tutu and with small wings glued to its back, it glowered down at them all, the ugliest angel Harry had ever seen, with a large bald head like a potato and rather hairy feet.

Now the lot of them were laughing hard once more, Lily restraining herself first and giving those around her an evil look.

"Don't you lot be getting any ideas-"

"Can you imagine when the spell wears off!" Sirius spoke much louder with his laughter still going strong. "Tearing through the house Christmas morning!"

"I'm entirely sure that's what the twins intended," Remus agreed.

Lily couldn't help a resolved sigh, already leery of her first Christmas with her son now sharing this event if she didn't keep an eye out.

They were all supposed to be listening to a Christmas broadcast by Mrs. Weasley's favorite singer, Celestina Warbeck, whose voice was warbling out of the large wooden wireless set. Fleur, who seemed to find Celestina very dull, was talking so loudly in the corner that a scowling Mrs. Weasley kept pointing her wand at the volume control, so that Celestina grew louder and louder.

Lily muttered tartly about how rude both parties were being, as if Molly should enforce all of them to listen to this, and Fleur refusing to be a good guest and just participate.

Undercover of a particularly jazzy number called A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love, Fred and George started a game of Exploding Snap with Ginny. Ron kept shooting Bill and Fleur covert looks, as though hoping to pick up tips.

"It's more an acquired ability," Sirius said primly.

"One I doubt you've mastered, as often as you think you need to practice," Remus snipped.

Sirius chose to ignore that, he didn't need to validate his love life.

Meanwhile, Remus Lupin, who was thinner and more ragged-looking than ever, **

Lily had been hoping the boys wouldn't notice the sudden hitch in her voice, but no such luck, their lively banter was cut short at once and all attention was focused on her unpleasantly. She chewed up her lip for a moment, but one glance at Remus showed he wanted no sympathy, nor much of anything from those around him but to get past this as fast as possible, so she accepted that wish.

was sitting beside the fire, staring into its depths as though he could not hear Celestina's voice.

As lyrics of Celestina continued, Molly swayed along with her knitting while murmuring to Arthur this had been the first song they'd danced to.

James had to clear his throat hard, but tried in vain to act like he hadn't just heard Moony's life was still steadily growing worse. "Course, I still remember mine!"

"We've got to get Harry round an unsuspecting party one of these days," Remus put in with forced chipper. "He'll get to see their expression when Prongs proclaims a tortured, broken saw being played as his love song to her."

Lily giggled affectionately, easily recalling several other moments from that Death Day party, her first date with her husband, it all still seemed so fresh even years later after so many other things had happened.

Arthur jerked in surprise, quickly nodding along and sleepily saying how marvelous it was indeed. With a little shake and sitting himself up straighter, he turned to Harry and apologized about this, it would be over soon.

Harry said he didn't have a problem with it.

Harry pulled himself away from examining Remus now, still unable to stop comparing him to the Lupin from his memories, and gave the same grin now. He'd listen to all the warbling music in the world at the Burrow.

He asked how it was going at the Ministry, and Arthur said extremely busy. Of the three people they'd caught who claimed to be Death Eaters, he doubted a one actually were. Then he quickly added on not for Harry not to be repeating that, now looking alert and awake.

"He's as good to have around as Hagrid," Sirius sighed before slipping an easy grin into place, deciding not to pick apart Remus now for this future any more than he wanted to hear of his own...or lack thereof. "Quite easy to chat to when he doesn't know what he's saying."

Sirius was confused why Harry's smile had slipped already into an uneasy frown though, but before he could ask Lily had kept going.

Harry asked if Stan Shunpike was still in custody?

They all winced as understanding lit them once more. Harry was still holding firm to how wrong that was, as he should. The evidence of what could become of people wrongfully accused was no longer able to be in that room with his godson like he should have been, and Harry refused to acknowledge the man now, afraid to make light of anything at the moment.

Arthur agreed he was afraid so, even Dumbledore had tried appealing otherwise, but three arrests sounded better than three arrests and releases with nothing to show for it.

"Who exactly is he going to run off and tell?" James demanded, as surly as his offspring now. It truly was disgusting the Ministry had finally changed its ways, and yet he'd somehow preferred them when they were ostriches. Dumb, flightless things with their heads in the sand.***

Harry at once promised he wouldn't be saying any of this to anybody else. Then Harry brought up what he'd said, just before he'd gone to school.

Arthur quickly agreed he'd checked the Malfoy's place, there was nothing, broken or otherwise, that shouldn't have been there.

"Not sure why you couldn't have arrested them anyways," Sirius scowled. "It's the principle of the matter, they're an insult to society by breathing!"

Harry agreed he'd seen that in the profit, but he had more to tell now, and he told Mr. Weasley everything he had overheard between Malfoy and Snape. As Harry spoke, he saw Lupin's head turn a little toward him, taking in every word.

For just the briefest moment that could exist, James' eyes lit with that teenage glow again, turning to share with his wife and child all the stories of old Moony being as bad as Wormtail about eavesdropping on people's conversations, the sneaky duo had quite mastered the skill as unnoticeable as they managed to make themselves. It died before it could start though, he'd never dream of comparing Remus to...he winced visibly instead for all to see, unable to even think his name at a time like this.

When he had finished, there was silence, except for Celestina's crooning.

Arthur spoke slowly that it was most likely Snape was simply pretending-

Harry finished the thought for him like Ron had said earlier, finishing with how did they know for sure?

Lupin unexpectedly jumped in to say it wasn't their business to know more.

"Hark, look who's talking," Lily said with more snideness in her voice than she'd really meant to, but she really couldn't help it. Snape had irredeemably hurt her time and again, especially in viciously treating her child like the father he wasn't, but she still clung to the very last there was something good in him. Something Dumbledore knew of and allowed him in the Order, and until that was proved otherwise, she'd still scowl at those around her accusing him otherwise.

They didn't need to, they'd made their feelings on this perfectly clear, so instead avoided each other's eyes rather than pick a fight with her for now.

He had turned his back on the fire now and faced Harry across Mr. Weasley to tell him it was Dumbledore's business. He trusted Snape, and that ought to be good enough.

Harry's mouth opened just slightly in surprise, and went uncomfortably dry as something occurred to him. Remus' severe expression now was all he needed to say to show he no longer felt any such way, that he struggled to trust much of anybody outside this room after all he'd heard witness of his future deeds. Harry squirmed uncomfortably as Hermione's words at the age of thirteen echoed back to him now, that bad things happened to wizards who meddle with time. Even if by some stretch beyond belief Pettigrew lived through the encounter when this all ended, Harry had irrevocably already changed things. His hand suddenly clenched painfully, his ring standing out in contrast, and for just one moment Harry thought that it started to flicker. Then he blinked, and was sure it was just his eyes playing tricks on him, so he quickly put his attention back on his mother and forced himself to think on this much, much later.

Harry still protested Dumbledore could be wrong, Remus agreed this was a fact many had accused him of. It still came down to trust. He trusted Dumbledore, therefore, he trusted Snape.

Harry countered did he honestly like him?

Lupin calmly said he neither liked nor disliked Severus.

"Right, and I turn into a unicorn," James rolled his eyes.

As Harry pulled a skeptical expression, Lupin insisted he was speaking the truth.

That pulled up both of his friends short in here. They'd still thought they'd be able to at least tell when their Moony was kidding no matter what time! Remus himself looked anxious now, more so for the fact he didn't much like this either. He certainly had nothing even close to a good feeling for the man, let alone the mutual expression prevailing at the Burrow. This was after what he'd have seen and heard of Snape's treatment of Harry, what all he'd done to Sirius' life.

They would never be friends, but he did not forget Severus had made the Wolfsbane Potion for him while he'd been teaching there, he had not suffered as he usually did.

"Was that all it took to win you over?" Sirius asked, trying very hard not to frown at Moony but instead put in another joke. "All those Animagus years for nothing, just had to get you a bloody potion!"

"Don't say that Padfoot," was all Remus had in him to whisper, clamping his hands so tight in front of him he looked as if he were trying to stop from strangling something, like himself.

Harry angrily retorted Snape had accidentally let slip the fact he was a werewolf, he'd had to leave!

Lily swallowed bile as she forced that out yet again, it was one of the many loathsome things he'd done, and it was certainly high up there, costing a good man that job, unable to hold his tongue any longer after so many years of silence just for some petty revenge.

Lupin shrugged, saying the news would have leaked out eventually.

"Hardly!" James snapped, wishing he could pound this into Professor Lupin's head instead of his Remus, though he clearly needed it as well. "No one would have given a damn even if it had!"

Remus shivered in fear, not believing that now any more than he would have twenty years later. He still feared what exactly was going on in his future Harry didn't even know about, and with people like Umbridge so prevalent in the Ministry, he had no disillusions laws against his kind were likely even stricter than today banning him around places with kids. He'd be lucky if he didn't have a warrant out for his arrest like Sirius.

They both knew he wanted the DADA job, but he could have wreaked much worse damage by tampering with the potion.

"He was saving his own skin as much as anything!" Sirius seethed, there was no way Snivellus would ever tamper with something to keep a werewolf at bay. That excuse for a human was likely to make enough batches for every werewolf in the world if it kept him having to deal with another, yet it was far more likely he'd be part of the hunting party for the other days of the month instead. No need to twist a selfish act into one of mercy.

Yet he'd kept him healthy, he must be grateful.

'Must be,' the words echoed heavily in the back of Lily's mind. She had no more delusions than his best friends Remus was likely fooling himself, or at the very least he was speaking the truth in that moment and merely exaggerating the rest to placate Harry.

Harry insisted Snape wouldn't dare do anything otherwise with Dumbledore right there.

Lupin had a faint smile in place now as he said Harry was determined to hate him, he had inherited an old prejudice.

"Not that he had to," James reminded foully. If Snape had just grown up at some point, been an actual teacher, or even just a passing human to his son, he liked to think he wouldn't have had half the vile feelings for him. Instead, such a hatred even his teenage self hadn't possessed grew for this future slimeball with every year Harry aged.

By all means Harry could tell Dumbledore what he had to Arthur and himself, but do not expect him to share your view of the matter; do not even expect him to be surprised by what you tell him. It might have been on Dumbledore's orders that Severus questioned Draco.

Celestina ended her song on a very long, high-pitched note and loud applause issued out of the wireless, which Mrs. Weasley joined in with enthusiastically.

Fleur loudly asked if it was finally over? It had been such a horrible-

Arthur quickly jumped in it was time to have a nightcap. Who wanted eggnog?

Harry turned back to Lupin and asked what he'd been up to while everyone else stretched and broke into normal conversation.

Remus, if possible, tensed up even more uneasily. Harry sure knew how to flip topics to something even worse, not that he'd imagined that possible moments ago.

Harry glanced from him, to the two very resigned expressions of his father and godfather. He'd been wondering on this for ages and had a pretty good idea himself now, but never had the gall to ask for more details because Remus got that same expression in place like he'd rather eat a live dragon than tell him. Harry only briefly got a second to wonder at the change of Lupin casually telling him then and Remus so resistant to it now before Lily continued without the least bit of enthusiasm.

Lupin calmly said underground, literally. That's why he hadn't a chance to write, it would have been something of a giveaway.

Harry had no clue what he meant, and Lupin supplied he'd been with his equal. When Harry's look of incomprehension continued, Lupin finally flat out said werewolves.

Remus still had it in him to be just simply pleased that wasn't Harry's first thought like it would any others. He thought even Lily still fell for it from time to time, but Harry never failed to surprise him that wasn't his first impulse to think of him as other. Only three others in the past had ever been the same.

Nearly all of them were on Voldemort's side, and Dumbledore needed a spy within, and here he was, ready-made.

"Literally," he finished for himself with a twisted smile.

He sounded a little bitter, and perhaps realized it, for he smiled more warmly as he went on he was not complaining, it was necessary work and who else was there to do it? It was difficult though, gaining their trust, he bore the unmistakable signs of having tried to live among wizards.

"Err," Harry muttered in confusion for what that could mean, but so low he honestly hoped no one had heard him. He could already tell this wasn't a topic anyone else wanted to be a part of.

Remus did anyways, and after heaving a sigh, decided he may as well so long as they were on this. "The wand, for starters. It's, well, it's not like we can sense others can do magic, but it's more like how an animagus can read an animal's body language better than most. We'd just know whether one used magic more frequently than your common muggle, or werewolf," he finished with that same bitter edge. "I'm a very special case Harry, most of my kind don't even get as far as owning a wand, or if they have, certainly not retained it as long as I have."

James and Sirius held very uncharacteristic, steadfast straight expressions. They'd had the argument with Moony many a times not to defer to himself like an animal, but he always circled back to it somehow. The problem was, never experiencing the sensation themselves of what he was describing, they had no way to rebuke him this time.

Harry nodded quickly to show he understood and waived his mother on, no one wanted to linger on this topic.

Harry asked why they followed Voldemort, and Lupin explained they'd been promised a better life under his rule. It was hard to argue when Greyback said something, and he was the loudest speaker of this.

Remus' face twisted so that it looked truly brutal, and Harry had to fight the urge to lean back in his seat with fright.

Harry asked who Greyback was.

"Ah the innocent," James couldn't help saying with disgust, wanting to cover Harry's ears from this in particular. His son had never for a moment treated Remus as anything different, to which they were all very grateful as they wouldn't know how to handle their child being afraid of him. Yet that reason seemed mainly because he hadn't grown up on any horror stories of the true beasts like so many others had, and he in no way wanted his son to hear the usual impression of the wizarding world on them.

Remus was surprised he hadn't heard of him, Fenrir Greyback was the most savage werewolf alive. He considered it his mission to bite and contaminate as many as possible, enough to overthrow wizards.

Harry's mouth opened with a rasping noise, even as he tried to hold back the worst of his shock. He'd watched first hand how horrible it seemed to carry the werewolf affliction, and there was someone out there trying to put it on others?!

Remus just nodded without surprise though. He'd never expected Greyback to change in the next twenty years.

Voldemort had promised him prey in return for his services. Greyback specialized in children. His philosophy was bite them young and raise them away from their parents, raise them to hate normal wizards. Voldemort has threatened to unleash him upon people's sons and daughters; it is a threat that usually produces good results.

Lily couldn't force back a shiver, her hands wanting to convulse around her child instead of this book. It was ridiculous, she quickly convinced herself, he was safe upstairs in his crib. It didn't stop her stuttering for a few extra moments, almost drowning out her next words, but not quite.

Lupin paused and then said it was Greyback who bit him.

Sirius startled so hard he fell right out of his seat, James gasped liked he'd been strangled and ripped the page clean out of his wife's fingers while Lily hardly noticed, her face a ghastly pale in shock as she watched Remus in worry for his reaction.

He didn't have one, he just sat there with a very careful expression in place.

Too late he tried to hitch a look onto his face, but even he wasn't sure which one, and it didn't matter now. They'd all seen.

"You-you knew?" James rasped out as if someone still had their hands on his throat.

"The bloody, when, how-" Sirius was no more articulate in getting words out.

Remus buried his face in his hands for a moment, but requited he'd known he'd have to tell them eventually. He just hadn't wanted to do it so soon, he was still processing it himself. "I-" he looked guilty at Lily, but tried to meet James and Sirius' eyes at the same time, cleared his throat, and whispered, "it would be thirteen days ago now."

"While you and Sirius were out with the Order," Lily put together, seeing as the other two still seemed too frozen to even do this simple amount of counting.

It had certainly been the most bizarre twelve days of their life, even this news didn't quite trump Harry's arrival, but the sting was still there.

"Why didn't you tell us then!" James demanded.

"I still don't understand when you found out," Sirius insisted. "We were hardly out of each others..." he trailed off with a suddenly furious look on his face, and Remus nodded absently.

"What?" James groused, he and Lily had never even gotten this story until Gideon had come over a few days ago, and even then they'd only given the highlights to their fellow Order member. He'd been upstairs readying to put his infant down for the night when they'd arrived, and not ten minutes later, so had Harry.

Remus shrank away from both of them, and somehow found it easier to explain to Harry. "My jobs for the Order are a bit more, ah, fulfilling. Voldemort's power isn't absolute yet, and there are still some out there, all sorts of creatures trying to resist him. Sometimes with one of them, but more frequently lately by myself, I go to groups and make our side as appealing as possible on Dumbledore's behalf."

He hesitated with a half look at his friends, but tried to keep going casually, "the day you arrived, I'd gone to visit two werewolves, sisters. Sirius had come with me at the last minute to be frank, but when we'd arrived, there'd already been someone there." He swallowed convulsively, his hands constricting in his lap just like they would twenty years later. "I only know of Greyback now by reputation, but a large one at that. There's a witch hunt for him, literally. He's been in the papers for months with this scheme of his getting more attention, and the sisters lived a village over from a family with three kids."

Sirius broke in with frustration, thinking Remus was going to go on all night explaining everything but what needed saying. "Greyback realized we were there a the same time as us. There was a crash, and he bolted out the back door. I went inside to check on the ladies, and Remus went after him."

Remus shifted in place but could no longer hold in the words he hadn't spoken aloud even when it happened. "I remember the day I was bitten vividly, and I saw his face that night. It was only a moment before he began to transform, but," he broke off with a wince and clearly didn't need to finish.

"And you didn't tell us?" Sirius insisted, the clear look of hurt still dominant. He briefly wondered if he'd somehow found this out for himself, and come to realize Remus never had told him. Had this been the start then, to not trusting Moony?

"It hasn't exactly come up," Remus said in clipped tones, but one glance at Harry made it rather apparent why he hadn't been gungho to share this particular revelation even after they'd known he trusted Remus.

Remus raked his fingers through his hair, probably adding a few gray streaks to match the lines still prominent on his face. "Look, I'm sorry alright, but can we please move past this. It's not something I've had to think about, and I've been rather grateful for that-"

"He's who you meant, isn't it?" Harry sharply input. "When you said someone told you you were pretending to be like us."

James and Sirius' expressions took on a new level of darkness, and Remus' scowl became more pronounced at Harry this time. "Yes," he finally answered. "He recognized me as well, and seemed to get quite a laugh out of it. We didn't exactly stick around for a nice long chat though, he bolted while I was just gaping like a fish after him, then Sirius found us," he finished with an unnecessary jerk of his head to him.

Then he turned back to Lily sharply now, "are you all happy? Can we please move on from this, it's not as if it really makes a difference!"

Lily could tell he was still trying to lie to himself. She wanted more than anything to help, to soothe him he was no soldier of a war he didn't want, that he was not just another pawn of Fenrir's. She held herself back though with a loaded look at her husband, he was the one Remus needed to hear that from, not her.

Sirius didn't seem as likely to wait, he wanted to dig right into Moony this second and demand they have this conversation now, he wouldn't let Remus go on thinking about that monster for another second as anything like himself, but when Lily started again he forced himself to respect there was an audience. There weren't many things James wouldn't speak of in front of Lily, and even Remus' lycanthropy wasn't one of them, but their years of solitude in this topic still held no matter how many were added to their family. It used to be four, but the three of them needed to have this in private, and he'd just have to wait patiently for that.

Harry was astonished, confirming this happened back when he was a kid?

Lupin agreed, his father had offended him.

This they did know, this had been the only thing they'd known for a very long time, Lyall had offended a werewolf. Now the revelations of their future held a more bleak look than ever, it shouldn't have taken a Moony who no longer had anyone to call family to pass on such wisdom.

"Have you talked to Lyall about this?" Sirius hurled at him so sharp it could have been Padfoot barking.

"No," Remus didn't hesitate in answering, but then when regret colored his face he fully admitted to the truth, "I was going to though. I wanted to know, if he'd known, and never," he sighed deeply. "I was going to go head there, after our next Order meeting. Obviously I've yet gotten the chance, but now it seems likely he would have said something more about this than he's ever told me."

James still had a sour expression as he kept eyes on him and Sirius was physically biting his tongue to stop himself snapping Moony had really wanted to go to anyone else before them.

He could almost imagine it, stopping by Lyall Lupin's house one day as Remus grew more distant from him, his own suspicions forming of Sirius, and Lyall passing on this news himself, the man was as aware as anyone they all shared everything with each other, or so he'd thought. Sirius bit back that though and shoved it as far away from him as he could. So it had taken something other for Remus to admit to this now, Sirius firmly grasped the idea Remus would have told them this time much sooner. It wasn't entirely his fault it had come out before he was ready.

He had not known, for a very long time, the identity of the werewolf who had attacked him; had even felt pity for the one, thinking that he had had no control, knowing by then how it felt to transform. But Greyback is not like that. At the full moon, he positions himself close to victims, ensuring that he is near enough to strike. He plans it all. And this is the man Voldemort is using to marshal the werewolves. He could not pretend that his particular brand of reasoned argument was making much headway against Greyback's insistence that they as werewolves deserve blood, that they ought to revenge themselves on normal people.

Harry fiercely cut in he was normal! He just, he had a, a problem-

Lupin burst out laughing.

Even now Remus couldn't stop a little twitch of his lips, he'd seen both Sirius and James flaring up to snap that at him this second if Lily hadn't finished for them.

Lupin happily informed how much Harry reminded him of James, he called his lycanthropy a furry little problem in company. Many were under the impression he'd had a badly behaved rabbit.

Lily forced out a bit of a giggle she'd ever fallen for such a thing, but well, those boys were certainly convincing, and she hadn't even cared enough at the time to look any closer.

He accepted a glass of eggnog from Mr. Weasley with a word of thanks, looking slightly more cheerful,

"Can't imagine why being reminded of this git would put you in a good mood," Sirius tried for that same look now, at least half managing it.

Harry, meanwhile, felt a rush of excitement: This last mention of his father had reminded him that there was something he had been looking forward to asking Lupin.

"Oh?" Remus asked with actual curiosity, anything was better than the last topic they'd been on.

"I've already asked you guys," Harry sighed, clearly that excitement wasn't going to reignite.

Harry asked if he'd heard of the Half-Blood Prince?

"Ah," the three boys muttered, while Lily smiled sardonically to herself Harry had the wrong parents friends. Her smile quickly turned sour as it remained obvious why he couldn't ask who he should be.

Lupin was confused at once while Harry was watching him closely for signs of recognition.

"It's not a very common title," James chuckled. "I'd like to think even Moony wouldn't have to think that hard about it."

"Implying?" Remus demanded.

"You once stared at the correct answer of a Potions ingredient for five minutes before putting together what you just read," Sirius helpfully reminded.

"Why do I put up with you lot?" Remus huffed.

Lupin was still smiling as he corrected Harry there were no Wizarding princes, then asked if this was a new title he was thinking of adopting?

"Ah, don't even joke that!" Harry protested while covering his ears. "The Daily Prophet might somehow overhear you!"

Remus snickered without looking very ashamed.

Harry indignantly returned it wasn't for him! Then he explained the Potions textbook he'd found, with spells all in it. He'd found the Levicorpus one-

Lupin reminiscently said that had been very popular during his time at school. There had been a few months where you couldn't walk five feet without being hoisted in the air by your ankle.

"By your own friends, by fellow students, you name it," James agreed unnecessarily, it didn't make it less funny.

Harry reminded his dad had done it, used it on Snape.

He tried to sound casual, as though this was a throwaway comment of no real importance, but he was not sure he had achieved the right effect; Lupin's smile was a little too understanding.

All four around Harry couldn't help the same look, not one they'd ever asked for, but present nonetheless.

Lupin agreed, as he'd said, it had been very popular.

Harry persisted it sounded as if it were invented during that time.

Lupin corrected jinxes went in and out of style just as anything. Then he went on to remind James had been a pureblood, and Remus promised he never expected to be called Prince.

"Captain maybe, Prongs certainly," Sirius made a face. "He had more than enough nicknames without adding to the list like whatever that mess means."

Harry dropped pretenses and confirmed it wasn't him or Sirius?

Lupin agreed definitely not.

Harry sighed with disappointment, and Lupin suggested he check the publishing date of the book, to give him an idea of when this Prince had been at Hogwarts.

"I wouldn't think so," James said in surprise. "We've been using this text for ages, and even though it would give some timeframe, like when it was not updated along with the rest, it's certainly not one narrow enough considering the past twenty years of students already."

"Better than no answer at all," Remus said without remorse.

Fleur chose then to start singing her own rendition of A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love, which made Molly seem to decide it was time for everyone to go to bed.

"Maybe she actually liked that one and was trying to help," Lily offered without any hope, it was clear the twos antagonistic sides were only getting stronger.

Harry and Ron climbed all the way up to Ron's attic bedroom, where a camp bed had been added for Harry.

Ron fell asleep almost immediately, but Harry delved into his trunk and pulled out his copy of Advanced Potion-Making before getting into bed. There he turned its pages, searching, until he finally found, at the front of the book, the date that it had been published. It was nearly fifty years old.

"Merlin, Voldemort could have bloody owned it," Sirius grumbled.****

Neither his father, nor his father's friends, had been at Hogwarts fifty years ago.

"See Remus, now you've gone and managed to make it worse!" James scowled.

Lily bit down on her lip, trying to make her expression look like she was thinking hard rather than fighting back laughter. She hoped this would be the end of it, she wasn't sure how much longer before she burst from so much held in laughter over this.

Feeling disappointed, Harry threw the book back into his trunk, turned off the lamp, and rolled over, thinking of werewolves and Snape, Stan Shunpike and the Half-Blood Prince, and finally falling into an uneasy sleep full of creeping shadows and the cries of bitten children. . . .

Lily couldn't hold any face anymore except horror for that. The saddest part is, considering other dreams where he'd watched Muggles be murdered or Death Eaters be tortured, this was probably one of his more minor ones!

Remus winced as well, if possible even harder, that he'd been the cause of that. Had he and Harry ever had one conversation that didn't hurt everyone?

Harry woke with a start to find a bulging stocking lying over the end of his bed. He put on his glasses and looked around; the tiny window was almost completely obscured with snow and, in front of it, Ron was sitting bolt upright in bed and examining what appeared to be a thick gold chain.

Sirius wolf whistled, while James snickered in surprise. "Didn't know Ron was such the posh type."

"I imagine he'll love it," Remus said snidely. "It's his favorite color."

"Any color except maroon's his favorite," Harry said while trying to fight back a smile.

Harry asked what that was, and Ron gave the revolted reply it was from Lavender.

Harry looked more closely and let out a shout of laughter, dangling from the chain in large gold letters were the words: My sweetheart

"Merlin's jewelry," Lily muttered, crinkling her own nose up in a bit of revulsion.

"Have I mentioned lately how grateful I am to you Lily Flower," James muttered with a torn expression like he wasn't sure if he was supposed to be laughing. It was, sweet, kind of...

Remus and Sirius had no such restraints and full blown burst out laughing. Remus nearly fell out of his seat with such amusement, he'd really needed a release.

Harry complimented how classy it was, he should definitely parade that in front of the twins.

Ron shoved it out of sight while stammering at him if he told anyone, he'd, he'd...

"Stutter at him some more?" James chuckled.

Harry asked stutter at him while grinning.

The pair grinned at each other, completely ignoring Sirius considering they knew exactly what he was saying.

Ron went on demanding of thin air why she'd do this?

Harry told him to think back and recall if he'd ever spoken the words he wanted My Sweetheart round his neck?

"What bloke hasn't at some point or another?" Remus snickered, clearly still enjoying this for all its worth.

Ron hesitated a bit before saying they didn't do much talking, it was mainly snogging.

"That's a healthy relationship," Lily and Sirius unintentionally said at the same time, before the two scowled at each other for using such opposite tones.

He hesitated a moment, then asked if Hermione was really going out with McLaggen?

"Wonder where his mind's really at," James laughed.

Harry gave the honest reply they'd been at Slughorn's party together, but it hadn't seemed to go well.

Ron looked slightly more cheerful as he delved deeper into his stocking.

"I wonder if Ron got Lavender anything," Lily murmured.

"I'm sort of doubting it, but if he did, my money's on a matching pair," Remus suggested with still twitching lips.

Harry's presents included a sweater with a large Golden Snitch worked onto the front, hand-knitted by Mrs. Weasley, a large box of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products from the twins, and a slightly damp, moldy-smelling package that came with a label reading To Master, From Kreacher.

"Eh?" Sirius muttered while jerking in surprise, sure he'd heard that wrong.

"Never done that before has he?" James clarified, though he was quite sure himself, this was not a usual house-elf tradition.

"Throw it out the window Harry," Sirius said at once, and Harry was a bit concerned he didn't seem to be joking. "He's never even given anything to me mum!"

"Remember Hermione gave him something last year," Lily offered, "maybe Kreacher thinks it's expected of him now."

Sirius still didn't look remotely pleased, muttering about poison, though to the elf or Harry she didn't care to listen to.

Harry asked if it was safe, while Ron said it should be as their mail was still being checked, but he looked just as suspicious.

"Well that's, nice," Lily tried to say with more optimism, but was fooling no one, even she couldn't imagine this was really a good thing.

Harry prodded the parcel carefully as he said he hadn't gotten Kreacher anything, did people normally do that?

Ron pointed out Hermione would, but Harry should check what it was before he went feeling guilty.

"Sound advice," Remus nodded along.

A moment later, Harry had given a loud yell and leaped out of his camp bed; the package contained a large number of maggots.

"Urgh!" Lily scowled, having the urge to drop the book in disgust.

"Memorable," James said tastefully.

Sirius however got a rather cruel expression in place that still managed to hold a colorful tone, "thanks for the idea! He really is a lovely soul!"

"I don't want to know where you plan on keeping those maggots until holiday," Remus grumbled.

Ron burst out with laughter at once while Harry pleasantly reminded he'd rather have those than that necklace.

"Honestly, a tough choice at this point," Sirius huffed while weighing the two options in his hand, and the necklace seemed to be winning.

Everybody was wearing new sweaters when they all sat down for Christmas lunch, except Fleur,

Lily harrumphed harshly. Molly was being just cruel now. Even if she didn't like Fleur, she should still show some decorum and do all she could to welcome her to the family, and this was just blatantly rude!

James had much the same expression in place. He'd never really respect Molly again after the way she'd treated Sirius, but he'd at least valued her for what she meant to his son. Turns out it wasn't all open hospitality though and she'd turn on anyone she didn't like.

(on whom, it appeared, Mrs. Weasley had not wanted to waste one) and Mrs. Weasley herself, who was sporting a brand-new midnight blue witch's hat glittering with what looked like tiny starlike diamonds, and a spectacular golden necklace. Fred and George had gotten them for her, the two quickly saying they'd been happy to do it, considering how much they appreciated her lately. It was certainly more a chore for them without her doing their socks.

"It does tend to earn a mother some respect," James said a bit wistfully, his would never have the chance to do so again.

"Sirius has yet to learn it," Remus rolled his eyes. Those kinds of chores had gone from his house-elf, to Hogwarts, to himself. He had no clue how Sirius would ever get by on his own at this rate.

Ginny cheerfully passed by Harry telling him he had a maggot in his hair,

"That's the sort of thing I look forward to hearing every Christmas," James quickly snickered to break out of his memories.

leaning across the table to pick it out; Harry felt goosebumps erupt up his neck that had nothing to do with the maggot.

"Are you sure? Cause I'm feeling a little of them," Lily shivered at the idea. Putting them in a potion was one thing, the idea of them lingering in her hair!

Ron offered the gravy boat to Fleur, but the moment he went to do so he knocked it flying. Fleur told him he was as bad as Tonks.

"To her it sure seems," Sirius chuckled.

"He's never been clumsy round anyone else though, not even Hermione," James mock pouted.

"Well don't let her hear you saying that!" Remus burst out before laughing just as hard, clearly determined to remain in a good mood now even when his friends kept shooting him a look saying their previous conversation wasn't done. Remus just didn't care, he actually felt relieved he'd finally told someone, like a weight lifted away.

Mrs. Weasley harshly cut in she'd invited Tonks along today, but she'd refused. Then she asked if Remus had spoken to her lately?

Harry rubbed at the back of his head where a slight ache was starting to build, and he glanced in concern at Remus, wishing he could to Tonks as well. What was that about, was Tonks really in some sort of danger? Did Remus know something about it? He certainly felt like he was missing a connection between the two...

Lupin hardly looked up from his food as he said he'd been under the impression she'd be with her family today.

Molly corrected she'd heard she was in fact alone today.

"Oh!" Lily yelped in concern, how was it Tonks' problem kept getting worse the more they heard about it!

"Please tell me this gets resolved soon, I don't think I can take much more depressing news," Sirius groaned, his little cousin didn't deserve this at all, whatever this was!

She gave Lupin an annoyed look, as though it was all his fault she was getting Fleur for a daughter-in-law instead of Tonks, but Harry, glancing across at Fleur, who was now feeding Bill bits of turkey off her own fork, thought that Mrs. Weasley was fighting a long-lost battle. He was, however, reminded of a question he had with regard to Tonks, and who better to ask than Lupin, the man who knew all about Patronuses?

"I wouldn't say all about them," Remus said distractedly. "I've done a bit of studying on the matter, but no more than your average-"

"Enough that you wrote two essays on the topic, so I'd say you're on your way to it," Sirius inserted.

Harry told him Tonks' Patronus had changed, according to Snape. Why would that happen?

Lupin took his time chewing before answering a great shock or emotional upheaval had been known to cause this.

Harry got a slight grin, one he couldn't quite explain to himself of Remus talking about this, but he chalked it up to that being almost the exact answer he'd given when Harry asked earlier.

An idea occurred to Harry then, and he started to ask if that Patronus could have been-

Mrs. Weasley shrieked Arthurs name at that moment.

Sirius huffed at Harry being interrupted for Molly's stupid scoldings, and asked, "well?"

"You," Harry finished simply, but he was now quite sure that wasn't the right animal. Lingering on what it could be however instantly implanted that headache again, and he huffed in frustration something so simple was still alluding him.

She had risen from her chair; her hand was pressed over her heart and she was staring out of the kitchen window where Percy was heading their way.

Lily balked at the words, sure she'd read them wrong, but then a beaming smile lit her face. Percy had picked the best day of the year to finally try and reconnect with his family!

None of the rest of the boys looked even remotely as hopeful, Harry's expression was the most reserved of all, as if he already wished this conversation was done with before it started.

Mr. Weasley looked around. Everybody looked quickly at the window; Ginny stood up for a better look. There, sure enough, was Percy Weasley, striding across the snowy yard, his horn-rimmed glasses glinting in the sunlight. He was not, however, alone, but with the Minister.

"He- what?" Sirius squawked.

"What on Earth-" Remus tried to mutter, but Lily was already going on again, fidgeting with the pages nervously now. She was still hoping for a tear-filled reunion of a family, but Scrimgeour's appearance had only somehow made the whole thing uneasier, as if that were possible.

And sure enough, the man Harry had seen in the Daily Prophet was following along in Percy's wake, limping slightly, his mane of graying hair and his black cloak flecked with snow. Before any of them could say anything, before Mr. and Mrs. Weasley could do more than exchange stunned looks, the back door opened and there stood Percy.

There was a moment's painful silence. Then Percy said rather stiffly a Merry Christmas to his mother.

Lily sighed heavily, wanting to give the poor thing a hug. Whatever the reason he was there, it didn't seem to be making up with his father then, though she wanted to smile nonetheless he was speaking to his mother after such a cold shoulder over the past year.

Mrs. Weasley threw herself into his arms without restraint.

Rufus Scrimgeour paused in the doorway, leaning on his walking stick and smiling as he observed this affecting scene. He apologized for the intrusion, they'd been in the vicinity working and Percy had insisted on dropping by.

"Right," James drew the word out with mounting suspicion, but he really couldn't even decide of what. There was nothing immediately wrong with what he'd said, it seemed Percy's type to even work on holiday, but as the Weasley hadn't exactly shown up with open arms and begging his family's forgiveness, something felt off.

But Percy showed no sign of wanting to greet any of the rest of the family. He stood, poker- straight and awkward-looking, and stared over everybody else's heads. Mr. Weasley, Fred, and George were all observing him, stony-faced.

Mrs. Weasley offered them both to come in and sit down, offering him some purkey or tooding?

"That doesn't sound bad at all," Sirius said with forced enthusiasm, imagining a turkey pudding now as his next holiday treat instead of the awkwardness living in such a warm place to his godson, it was like being back in Grimmauld place.

Scrimgeour said there was no need, they really were here for a quick moment. He'd just take a stroll around the garden, surely someone would accompany him, and then they'd have their leave. He asked if that young man would, the one with the empty plate.

"I'll give you three guesses who he picked, and if you need the first two, I can't help you with your life," James huffed.

The atmosphere around the table changed perceptibly. Everybody looked from Scrimgeour to Harry.

Lily couldn't help but stop and rub at her eyes in frustration for a moment. She never could just have one nice thing transpire. This really all had been some ploy for Scrimgeour to see Harry for some reason, and Percy had only been involved for his name, not because of any desire on his part to see his family, and that was honestly the most heartbreaking thing she'd heard in ages now.

Nobody seemed to find Scrimgeour's pretense that he did not know Harry's name convincing, or find it natural that he should be chosen to accompany the Minister around the garden when Ginny, Fleur, and George also had clean plates.

"I'd have picked George on principle, there's two of him, so a spare!" Remus forced out another uneasy laugh, quite frustrated how hard it was to do so soon again.

Harry agreed, though he was not fooled, and was now sure this was the real reason for Percy's appearance. He whispered it was fine to Lupin as he passed, who had already half risen from his chair.

"Thank you Moony," James muttered, though Remus nodded without a change in that hard expression. He completely understood why Harry wouldn't want him out there with him, but this was still one of the most genuinely good things he'd ever done to try and be there for Harry. No attendance in Hogwarts, he'd been voluntarily trying to help, and still been denied. Not that he could blame him, he'd always done better on his own, the only person remotely likely to go out there with him at this point was Ron.

He said the same to Arthur as he passed, then was walking across the yard toward the Weasleys' overgrown, snow-covered garden, Scrimgeour limping slightly at his side. He had, Harry knew, been Head of the Auror office; he looked tough and battle-scarred, very different from portly Fudge in his bowler hat.

"I'm sure," Sirius said tartly, his hands flexing uncomfortably like he wasn't sure if he should be wringing them with worry, or already wringing someone's neck.

They stopped just at the gate, Scrimgeour calling it charming.

Harry said nothing, letting the Minister start that he'd wanted to meet Harry for a very long time now, had he known that?

"Can't really say I'm surprised," Lily said slowly, though she couldn't really imagine Scrimgeour's motives. Hadn't Fudge mentioned something about this though, all the way back at the beginning in that Muggle Minister's office. She'd thought Harry's name had come up in conjunction with Scrimgeour having better luck at...something. Apparently they were fixing to find out.

Harry truthfully answered no, while Scrimgeour continued it was Dumbledore that had stopped this happening, he was very protective of him,

"Least that man can do one thing right," Remus sneered, but quietly enough Lily didn't stop.

which was natural of course, after what had happened at the Ministry.

He waited for Harry to say something, but Harry did not oblige.

"Can't imagine much to say about that," James said harshly, more for his voice trying to constrict again at those events once more being played through his mind.

Scrimgeour continued about the rumors always around him, being the Chosen One!

"Must every single bloody person he meets bring that up?" Sirius demanded, already wanting to knock this one over and be done with the conversation.

They were getting near it now, Harry thought, the reason Scrimgeour was here.

He assumed Harry and Dumbledore had discussed all this?

"It would be obtuse to assume otherwise," Lily sniffed, what was he fishing for?

Harry deliberated, wondering whether he ought to lie or not. He looked at the little gnome prints all around the flowerbeds, amid the scuffed-up patch that marked the spot where Fred had caught the gnome now wearing the tutu at the top of the Christmas tree. Finally, he decided on the truth ... or a bit of it, admitting they'd discussed it.

Scrimgeour was unsurprised, and Harry turned to avoid eye contact, pretending to be very interested in a gnome that had just poked its head out from underneath a frozen rhododendron.

Scrimgeour then asked what Dumbledore had said about this?

"Don't rightly see how that's his business," James said at once. He didn't much like what Dumbledore had to say these days either, but it was between Dumbledore and Harry, and he and Lily to be honest, though that was a bit of another matter.

Harry said that was between them.

Scrimgeour forced a continued polite, friendly tone as he said of course, it didn't even really matter if he was the Chosen One anyways.

Sirius was starting to shift impatiently, he wanted to get to the actual point of this as much as he wanted to walk away already! Why was that the only thing their current Minister of Magic wanted to talk about?! If he'd had time to hope for anything, he'd have liked to think Harry would be told something prudent about any attempts looking for Voldemort!

Harry had to mull that one over for a few seconds before responding he wasn't sure what the Minister wanted.

Scrimgeour answered others still did want a Chosen One, it was all perception of course. What other people believed, that was important.

Remus' lip curled with disgust, he'd had more than enough of what people believed thank you, it was high time they got someone around to realize what actually mattered were facts, not whatever emotion was relevant at the time.

Harry said nothing. He thought he saw, dimly, where they were heading, but he was not going to help Scrimgeour get there.

"Is, is he really wanting to pretend everything's hunky dory just like Fudge?" Sirius demanded.

"I don't think that's quite it," James disagreed. "More like he's trying to get Harry to help them along with things seeming more under control than they are. Like Arthur said, nothing's really changed since the new Minister, and that's got to be frustrating by now. He's looking for a ploy-"

"Or a poster boy," Harry finished sourly, not at all soothed his father so easily picked up on his own idea so quickly, it didn't make the outcome any better.

The gnome under the rhododendron was now digging for worms at its roots, and Harry kept his eyes fixed upon it.

Scrimgeour continued Harry was something of a hero, considering how many times he'd bested You-Know-Who, chatting on without waiting for a reply to that,

"For once," Remus huffed, all of them shivering at that number.

the point was he was a symbol. Naturally this was a gift to be used, almost a duty for him to be standing alongside the Ministry.

"Duty my arse!" Sirius tried to growl, but his face puckered almost as soon as the words came out, and he quickly muttered he hadn't meant it like that.

"Thank you Padfoot, that about summed up this whole situation," Harry at least got a mild laugh out of it even while the others rolled their eyes at him.

The gnome had just managed to get hold of a worm. It was now tugging very hard on it, trying to get it out of the frozen ground. Harry was silent so long that Scrimgeour said, looking from Harry to the gnome, weren't they funny little things. Then prompted what Harry had to say to that.

Harry slowly said he wasn't quite sure what Scrimgeour did want.

"The fact that he wants something at all," Lily couldn't help but say through gritted teeth, so sick and tired of everyone in the world always wanting to use her son for something! Always their own agendas to contend with, never allowed to enjoy one thing to himself like a bleeding holiday now!

Scrimgeour at once said it was nothing onerous at all! Just popping in and out of the Ministry from time to time, it would give the right impression! Of course it would be ample opportunistic as well, Gawain Robards, his successor in the Head of Aurors office, was looking for an introduction himself. Dolores Umbridge,

Lily choked on that name with shocked disgust even before she'd got it out, as if her throat had suddenly been stuffed with a bag of sugar. "That woman shouldn't be let around criminals, let alone those children for a year! How does she still have a job!"

"Unless he finishes that sentence with, has her head tacked to the ceiling, I don't want to hear it," James agreed, fighting back the compulsion to draw his son close to him once more for all she'd done to him. Leaving a permanent mark on his hand, threatening him with an Unforgivable, not to mention her sickening presence poisoning their very thoughts when her name was mentioned.

had told of his ambition to be an Auror, this could easily be arranged and fast tracked-

"No need to even finish school!" James mocked. "Being the Ministry's stooge is as good as you can ever get!"

Harry shook his head lowly for this, for everyone around him getting worked up over it on his behalf, it was as heartwarming as Scrimgeour had been infuriating.

Harry felt anger bubbling in the pit of his stomach: So Dolores Umbridge was still at the Ministry, was she?

"Honestly, what did Scrimgeour hope to gain from telling that!" Remus had to fight hard not to shout that and wasn't doing a very good job.

"I quite vividly remember her spending that lesson telling McGonagall about his criminal record keeping him out of the Ministry," Sirius viciously reminded. "Exactly how many faces does she have to be chatting about that casually now? I'll enjoy ripping every one of them off, so the more the merrier!"

Harry still kept a polite tone as he asked the Ministry wanted to make it seem he was working for them?

Scrimgeour repeated it would give the right impression, it was all about giving people hope! The feeling something exciting was happening.

"Last time that bloody happened the same Ministry was denying Voldemort's return amidst a fantastic school regime!" Lily thundered. "I am so sick and tired of every one of them caring nothing but what others think! Is it so impossible to have someone of actual action in place?"

"I'm at a loss," James agreed, truly seeming that way as there seemed no true answer, even now the Ministry was just scrambling to even have a face, let alone shining one up in Harry's time.

Harry still endeavored to keep a friendly tone as he pointed out if he kept going in and out of the Ministry, it would seem he approved of what they were doing.

Scrimgeour agreed that was partly-

But Harry cut in that wouldn't do at all, as he didn't approve of their choices. Locking up Stan Shunpike for instance.

Scrimgeour's face soured as he told he did not expect that to be understood by a sixteen year old.

"Of course he wouldn't, how dare someone question a thing! We should all just line up and wait to be told what to do, you bloody..." Remus trailed off into more mutterings Harry hadn't a care to distinguish anymore.

Harry countered Dumbledore didn't think he should be locked up either.

Scrimgeour no longer pretended at a pretense as he confirmed that like his hero Dumbledore, Potter was choosing to disassociate himself from the Ministry?

"Can you blame him?!" Lily was doing no better a job at keeping her voice under control, it was very near hitting screaming levels. "All they've ever done is abuse him left and right, and while you can't blame the whole damn building for the Ministers actions, this conversation alone has only shown no one's getting any better at looking to you as a ruddy person rather than another tool!" She was so enraged she wanted to march up there right now and quit her job on the spot in protest, or run for Minister herself just to finally get something done.

Harry flatly said he did not want to be used.

Scrimgeour snapped some would say it was his duty to be used by the Ministry!

"Those people need to be shoved into a toilet until they realize otherwise," James most of all got a mock pleasant air into place as he happily informed this.

Harry countered others might say it would do to check who was and wasn't a Death Eater before chucking them in Azkaban, he was just as bad as Barty Crouch!

Sirius blanched at the reminder, but it was impossible to tell if his shaking was from more anger or the idea being brought up again of his soon to be fate. If they'd had any misgivings before, they were all confident now why Harry took Stan as such a personal offense.

Harry raised his right fist. There, shining white on the back of his cold hand, were the scars which Dolores Umbridge had forced him to carve into his own flesh: I must not tell lies.

Lily's hand flexed convulsively across the binding, even if she'd never forgotten this. What she owed that woman, for doing that to her child, to so many kids...

Harry stated he had not forgotten last year, when no one was rushing to his defense.

Somewhere in the back of Harry's mind he regretted his harsh words, he had no real idea what Scrimgeour had been thinking at the time, if he'd been like Arthur, Tonks, and surely others inside the Ministry not approving of what they had to do. It wasn't enough though to stop him rubbing his hand now in remembrance, the rest of his mind filled with anger Scrimgeour wasn't even man enough to offer an apology on behalf of that, not that it would have meant anything to him.

They stood in silence as icy as the ground beneath their feet. The gnome had finally managed to extricate his worm and was now sucking on it happily, leaning against the bottom most branches of the rhododendron bush.

Remus' face spasmed, like some part of him wanted to laugh and enjoy this with Harry, something as simple as a beasts life continuing in the background like all gnomes would no matter what happened among wizard's lives. Sometimes he almost couldn't blame werewolves who lived apart from all this, who wanted nothing to do with either side of the war.

Scrimgeour briskly demanded what was Dumbledore up to? Where did he go outside of Hogwarts?

"Why, in his senile old mind, would he even ask at this point?" James demanded, still trying extremely hard to keep a smile in place even if it was looking more painful all the time. "You'd think he'd turn tail and run, but apparently even that's above his understanding."

Harry said no idea, and he wouldn't tell if he did.

Scrimgeour threatened he'd find out eventually, but Harry parted the wisdom Fudge had tried interfering with Dumbledore as well. He was no longer Minister, but Dumbledore was still headmaster.

"Ha!" Sirius let out a deep bark of triumphant laughter that was echoed in the room. Even with their rather morbid feelings to this lately, they could appreciate that.

There was a long pause, then Scrimgeour said in a cold voice Potter was Dumbledore's man through and through.

As if water dumped on a flame, all their anger fizzled out to just be replaced with an empty feeling. There was once a time where they all would have claimed as such, their loyalties with the man who would get them through this war, who allowed anyone in his ranks because he cared about them as people and saw good in everyone. It was daunting, genuinely unsettling that some part of them now worried over this like a dog with a bone, his true intentions with Harry, leaving him at Privet Drive and so many other instances now having an effect that could not be erased. Lily sniffled slightly as she tried to finish without letting it all overwhelm her, just trying to get through these moments with her son before tackling the larger issues of it all.

Harry agreed he was, and turning his back on the Minister of Magic, he strode back toward the house.

"My, my, Harry," Lily forced herself to finally settle back down as she passed the book along to James. "You certainly know how to have a first introduction to people."

"As if that's anything new," James rolled his eyes as he flipped the page.

HPHPHPHP

*Hello again depressing foreshadowing! Last time a knife went to someone and just missed was Sirius.

** I once saw someone write a whole essay on why Wolfstar was cannon because of this scene. The highlights were this was his and Sirius' favorite time of year, and after the way Sirius acted in the last book, and that was his last Christmas, a lovesong playing in the background and then the bachelor being mentioned, I can't help but spread a little of that love into these parts, even if they could still be read as friends messing with each other as well. Sadly as far as cannon is concerned he's likely thinking about Tonks right now, but I still kind of indulge in thinking otherwise. Wish I could find that stinking article again, but I was terrible about keeping record of such things from way back when before I started writing regularly.

***Please don't take James' insult too harshly, those are actually my second favorite bird and I plan to own one someday, and his name will be Fletching. After all the insults to toads done in this series though, and that's not even done, I hope you guys don't ever think I mean them against the poor animals who don't deserve it.

**** That was actually my running theory while reading, Voldemort had managed to get another book into the school, though I wasn't really convinced this one was possessing Harry. The title fit anyways.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #The Life That Never Lived #HP #HBP #Marauders #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter

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moirasimagines · 4 years ago

Text

standing by | david budd x reader

summary: it’s the night of october 1st, and the reader is expecting a visit from david after an outing with his kids to see their grandmother. feeling nervous, they phone vicky and receive some less than reassuring news.

warnings: canon-typical mentions of su*cide bombing/terrorism and ptsd, lil angsty? but tender i promise, vicky and the reader each have one (1) drink, general concern is to be had about david’s mental state

word count: 2787

a/n: i kinda wanna make this a series? where david and the reader just? are dating so instead of sleeping w/ julia he just... becomes her friend and everything else just... happens the same way ig??? lemme know if anyone’s actually interested in this bc i might write it anyway but it’d be good to know if there’s any actual like... market for it bgjkrtbgkr

David is late. You aren’t angry–– it just seems odd. He’s a very punctual person, normally, and you couldn’t imagine why he wouldn’t just text you if something had come up with the kids. He hasn’t answered any of the texts you’ve sent him, and both times you called, his phone went to voicemail. You think about phoning Vicky, then decide against it. You like to think that the two of you are friends. She’s kind to you whenever you see her, anyway, and David has mentioned once or twice that she’s asked about you, remembered that your aunt had been sick and sent well wishes or mentioned a book you’d told her about. You like her. She’s a good mother to her kids, and she treats David with the love and respect he deserves. You’ve never met a pair of exes with such a healthy relationship, and though you know it’s a two way street between herself and David, you’re still impressed with her grace. It’s these feelings that drive you to give her a ring when an hour’s gone by since Dave said he’d be over and you haven’t heard anything.

“Hello?”

“Hi Vicky, it’s Y/N. I was wondering if Dave––”

“Oh love,” she says, and you notice that her voice wavers as she speaks. Your heart drops. “Everyone’s alright, the kids and him, but…” She sighs. “There was a suicide bomber on their train home.”

“Oh christ,” you murmur, your heart rate picking up. “But they're okay? The kids? And Dave? Nothing happened, no one got hurt?”

“They’re all fine, yeah. They’re taking a cab home now. Dave said to expect them in at about half past 10. He…” she takes a deep breath on the other end of the line. “He talked the woman out of it. Nearly got himself killed, but…” For a moment, neither of you says anything. You glance at the clock. It’s 9:45. You have to make a conscious effort to even out your breathing, but you manage it.

“He saved their lives,” you say.

“Yeah,” Vicky manages, but you can tell she’s crying.

“Is there anything I can do for you, hun?” you ask, “Do you want some company?” She sniffles.

“That actually… That would be nice, if you’re offering. And that way you won’t have to wait to see him, or the kids.”

“Yeah,” you say. “Yeah, of course. I’ll start over right now. Should be able to get there in twenty. Thank you, Vicky.”

“Yeah, all right. No, it’s…” She pauses. “I mean, thank you, hun.”

“See you soon.”

You smile as you hang up, but your stomach is still churning. He’s fine, the kids are fine. Everything is fine. Vicky obviously spoke to him, and they’re all on their way home now. But the thought of something happening is too much to bear, and you notice after a moment that your heart is practically pounding. You don’t want to keep Vicky waiting, though, so you toss your phone and keys into your bag and drive over.

She meets you at the door, and to your surprise, throws her arms around you. Relieved, you return the embrace, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

“Thank you for coming all this way,” she murmurs against your shoulder.

“Thank you for letting me come by.” Vicky takes a deep breath and pats your back. You both pull away and she nods for you to follow her inside.

“Drink?” she asks, padding into the kitchen. She sounds tired. You trail behind her, realizing slowly that you’ve never really been alone together. Normally you feel a bit like you’re visiting your in-laws or something when David brings you round to Vicky’s. But the house feels smaller now, somehow, more intimate.

“I won’t say no to that.” She offers you a weary but genuine smile and takes a wine glass from the cupboard.

“I’ve got my own in the sitting room, so don’t worry. I’m not trying to liquor you up. White okay?” You let out a laugh at the joke and she shoots you a wry smile.

“Yeah, perfect, thank you.” You both go to sit and wait for David and the kids, finding yourselves on opposite ends of the couch. She sits so that she’s facing you a little, shoulder resting against the cushions.

“So, how’s things with you and Dave?” Vicky asks after a moment. You feel a guilty pang, but it’s clear that she’s really just curious. There’s no malice in her words–– of course, there never is. If anything, you imagine she just wants to fill the time.

“They’re good,” you say, hesitantly. “Thanks. It’s, ah… You know, obviously I love the kids, and––”

“Oh, they adore you,” she replies, smiling despite the anxiety on her brow. Your expression softens.

“Really?”

“Yeah, ‘course. They’re always asking about you.”

“Oh. That’s really sweet,” you say, genuinely a bit surprised. You love Charlie and Ella fiercely, but you’d always assumed they must have felt a bit strange about you. After all, you and David have been together for the better part of a year now. They know you’re dating their dad. You’d always thought it would be a little bit difficult for them–– and who could blame them if it was?

“We all love you, you know,” she says earnestly after a moment. “I’m pleased it’s going well with you two, really, I am.” Spindly fingers reach across the space as she covers your hand with her own, giving you an affectionate jostle. Tears glisten in her eyes, and you feel your chest tighten. “I know it’s probably weird, me saying all this, but…” She shakes her head. “I love Dave, he’s the father of my kids. And all I want is for him to be happy. I think you make each other happy.” You nod slowly, taking her words in, feelings tears slip down your own cheeks as you place your free hand on top of hers and squeeze.

“I think the world of you,” you say once she sits back. “I really want you to know that. You’ve been nothing but kind to me since day one, and––” She waves you off.

“Oh god, don’t give me so much credit,” she says, recovering a bit, “You were the one in the really scary position. Meeting the ex-wife? Please, I would have shat myself.” She lets out a shaky laugh, sniffs, wipes her eyes. “And you were so sweet!”

“Are you kidding?” you reply, halfway between tears and laughter, “If I had to meet my ex’s new partner, I probably would have had a cow.” Vicky laughs at that, and the two of you share an admittedly tearful but warm look.

As you’re wiping your eyes again, a car pulls up outside of the house, and both of your heads snap up at the sound.

“Oh thank god,” Vicky says, and you both hurry out the door. Charlie and Ella come bounding up to her, and just like that, you’re welling up again, seeing the kids reunited with their mother. David follows a few paces behind, and the kids step back from their little group hug as she goes to embrace him.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Ella asks, turning to you. Charlie follows suit, and soon you’re knelt on the ground to give them a hug as well.

“I was worried about all of you,” you say, “so your Mum asked if I’d like to come see you.”

“That was nice of her,” Charlie says.

“Yeah,” you agree, pulling away to scrub at your eyes, “it was, huh?” They both smile at you, and you glance at David, who’s reassuring an understandably distraught Vicky. It had been easier to curb your emotions when the two of you were talking, but now you can’t help yourself. No sooner have you dried your cheeks than fresh tears roll down them and you look at the kids again, admiring their sweet faces. “I’m very glad to see you both,” you say quietly.

“We’re glad to see you too,” Ella replies. Charlie moves to hug you again, seeing that you’re still crying, and Ella joins him. You squeeze them both as David and Vicky walk over.

“Come on you two,” she says, voice a little calmer, but still tinged with emotion, “it’s past your bedtime.” You let them both go and Vicky offers you a smile, which you return gratefully. They scamper off after her into the house, and you can’t possibly stand up quickly enough. David’s arms are around you in an instant and when you exhale, it feels like you’re deflating into him.

“What are you doing here, love?” he asks gently, a hand coming up to cradle your head.

“I thought you were going to come over tonight,” you murmur, “and when I didn’t hear from you, I got worried, and I called Vicky and she told me about the train, and...” You feel David tense up for a moment, and then sigh.

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m sorry, love. I completely forgot.”

“No, it’s all right, Dave, really––”

“No, but you must have felt awful talking to Vic–– and I didn’t even call you.”

“Well, you had quite a lot going on from what I understand,” you say, pulling away to look at him. He looks exhausted, rattled, and upset at himself, no doubt. “I’m not angry,” you insist, “Really, I’m just so relieved you’re all okay.” You lift a hand to his cheek and though he leans into the touch, he looks down, brow creased in frustration. “David,” you say, trying to get him to look at you. “Your kids come first. I know that, I’ve known it since the day we met. It’s one of the many things I love about you.” Finally, he lifts his eyes to yours. They’re bright, you notice, more intense than usual.

“I would’ve called you first thing in the morning.”

“I know you would have,” you say reassuringly. For a moment, you just look at each other, your thumb brushing across his cheek. “Love, are you all right?” David sniffs, nods. You drop your hand.

“Fine, yeah. I’m…” he takes a deep breath. “I’ll be alright,” he says, but he sounds defeated. You frown slightly, and nod. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you softly, quickly, before pressing another kiss to your forehead. “I’m gonna go help Vic put the kids to bed,” he says, nodding towards the house.

“I’ll drive you home,” you offer. “Yours or mine. Whatever you need.” He nods gratefully and tucks an arm around you. With your arm wound tightly around his waist, his kisses you on the temple and you both head back inside.

You sit back down on the couch and lean your head on your hand as he sheds his jacket and trots upstairs. You don’t even realize that you’re beginning to doze off until the sound of your name rouses you from half-consciousness. David’s face materializes before your own as you blink yourself awake. He smiles softly.

“Hi, you,” he says. You chuckle, and he reaches for your hand to help you up.

Vicky leans against the stairwell and hugs David and you each in turn.

“Don’t be strangers,” she says through a yawn, and the three of you shuffle to the front door.

“Night, Vic,” David says, stepping outside.

“Night, Dave.” You pause before following him out and take Vicky’s hand.

“Thank you for tonight,” you say. “Really. Get some rest, all right?”

“You too,” she replies softly. “You’re always welcome here, you know.” You nod.

“Thank you. Night, babes.” Vicky smiles.

“G’night.” You turn and step out into the yard, David nodding to Vicky as she shuts the door. He puts his arm around you again and you start down the street towards your car.

“You two seem very cozy,” David says after a moment, almost sounding amused. You chuckle.

“Yeah, I like her. She was really sweet to me tonight.” You slow to a stop as you reach your car and dig in your bag for your keys. “It was nice talking, just me and her, I guess.” David’s smiling when you look up at him.

“Vicky’s good people,” he agrees. “And anyone would have to be out of their mind not to like you.” You can’t help but smile as you shake your head at him and unlock the doors. He climbs into the passenger seat and you go around to the driver’s side.

“Do you want me to take you home, love?” you ask once you’re situated. David looks at you almost sheepishly.

“I’d rather stay at yours, if you’ll have me.” You let out a breath and give him a tired smile.

“Of course I will,” you say, leaning over the console to kiss him. He chases your lips when you pull away, a hand resting on the back of your neck. You kiss him once more and start the car.

The drive home is comfortably silent, and when you look over, you see that David has closed his eyes, is taking measured breaths. It’s something you’d recommended he do that you’d learned from your own time in therapy, though you’ve yet to convince him to go. It’s better than nothing, though, and while he doesn’t look completely untroubled when you park the car, he seems a bit calmer.

It’s nearly midnight when you finally trudge into your apartment, and David heads straight for your bedroom. You don’t bother to do anything more than take off your makeup in the bathroom before following after him. He’s already in his pyjamas–– he has a decent sized drawer at your place–– and you change unceremoniously into your own. He draws the covers back and climbs into bed and you do the same. You have to lean over him to turn the light out and for a moment, you hover over him in the darkness. You feel protective, like you want to stay poised above him, ready to frighten off any would-be attackers in the night. He shifts beneath you and you drop a kiss to his temple, then another. He exhales slowly.

“What do you need, darling?” you murmur against his skin, “What can I do?” He’s silent for a moment.

“I don’t know,” he admits softly, shaking his head against the pillow. “I dunno.” You nod.

“It’s okay.” You lay down beside him, one arm slung over his waist, face pressed to the back of his neck and your other arm tucked up against yourself. “It’s okay.” For a little while the only sounds in the room are his and your breathing. He reaches for your hand, interlocks his fingers with yours. Minutes go by. You close your eyes but don’t sleep. Then it feels like he’s trembling, and you hear his breath hitch. His grip on your hand tightens. He’s crying. You squeeze his fingers where they curl under your palm, your arm bracing more tightly around his body. The sound is so quiet, only a few gasping breaths every now and again, but you can still hear it rattling out of him. He could have died today. His children could have died today.

You don’t say anything–– there’s nothing to say. All you can do is hold him, and you do. When the shaking subsides a little, you move to cradle his head with your other arm and you stay like that until you’ve both fallen asleep.

In the morning, it’s almost as if nothing happened. David is a little bit quiet while you both eat breakfast, but that’s not terribly unusual. While you sit, he places a hand on your thigh, as if to silently reassure you that he’s fine. With a kiss to your forehead, he gets up to dress for work (there are a few of his suits in your closet), and when you’ve finished your tea you do the same. He has to leave a bit before you do, and you walk with him to the door.

“I’ll call you when I’m done today, all right?” he asks. You nod. “Okay.” His expression changes, becomes softer. “I love you,” he says earnestly, his voice soft. You can’t help but smile, even through your worry.

“I love you too, Dave.” He kisses you gently, a hand on either side of your face, and lingers there longer than he might ordinarily. Your hands find his waist and give a comforting squeeze. He smiles. Part of you wonders if he really is just okay. His expression seems peaceful as he kisses the side of your head again and turns to leave. You can only hope that you’re right.

#david budd x reader #richard madden x reader #richard madden imagine #david budd fanfic #david budd reader insert #kgbkjg this is how i express my thirst apparently #thru shared coping w/ emotional trauma #also fair warning this is a vicky budd stan zone so #we may be dating her husband but that doesnt mean we disrespect her!!!#nothing but love for vicky fuckin budd!!!! what a queen #ok im done #mine #my writing

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ourloveisforthelovely · 4 years ago

Text

In Love and Death Part 10

Harry Potter AU

Link to Part 9

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating: M

_____

Dinner that night was a silent affair. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were having a hard time looking in your or Regulus’ direction. Hermione was afraid that Harry was going to lose his temper and go after the boy across the table. She had a feeling that if Regulus and Harry were to start throwing hands over you, it wouldn’t go well for either party. All that Hermione could do was sit and quietly remind Harry that Regulus knew a lot more dark magic and probably wouldn't be afraid to use it.

“How am I supposed to feel Hermione? They are practically shoving their relationship down my throat. She is clueless about how I feel and Regulus thinks it is funny.”

This had been Harry’s latest comment to his best friend. Hermione tried to remind Harry that Regulus was your first boyfriend so this was bound to be different. Harry was expecting Regulus to be prudish (according to Sirius his whole family was prudes) but what Harry was seeing was the opposite of prudish.

Your eyes flickered up to meet Harry’s. He gave you a frown before looking down at the casserole that Molly had fixed for dinner. You internally shrugged at Harry’s behavior. He was, in your mind, being silly. There was no way that something between Harry and yourself would work. You couldn’t imagine dating one of your good friends.

“How do you know that I won’t sneak off?”

Evan’s voice pulled you from your thoughts as Moody hauled him into the dining room for dinner. You felt the annoyance returning to the pit of your stomach. Evan had been at Grimmauld for a day and neither of you had made a move to talk to the other. After your less than stellar conversation from the previous afternoon, you wanted nothing to do with him (or so you let on). You were hurt by his comments but didn’t want anyone to know. Regulus and Moody knowing were enough for you.

You were already sick of the look of worry in Regulus’ eyes when Evan was near you and the look of sympathy that you were receiving from Moody.

“You won’t be going anywhere.”

You replied, sitting your fork down. Evan’s blue eyes turned to you. He was as annoyed as you were at the conversation quickly going down hill. In Evan’s mind, he did what was best for you and wouldn’t be swayed any other way. You did just fine without him growing up and had no reason to be so damn bitter.

“But how do you know?”

He questioned. You turned your attention to Regulus as if silently asking for him to deal with your father. At the moment, you just didn’t have the strength or desire. Regulus didn’t even need to be asked. His grey eyes locked on his “former” best friend.

“When I knocked you out, Y/n got some of your blood for a blood spell. You won’t be going anywhere that she doesn’t want you to. Long story short, you’re on a leash.”

Sirius and Remus exchanged worried glances. Since Regulus had come into the future, they noticed you messing a little bit more in dark magic as the days wore on. Evan blinked before smiling slyly.

“That’s some dark magic, sugar.”

“Don’t call her that.”

Regulus snapped. Now he couldn’t call you “sugar.” Evan just ruined that for him. You scoffed under your breath.

“Yeah, you should see what else I can do. Supernatural gives me good ideas.”

Moody took his turn. He was still hell-bent on making sure that Regulus, Evan, and yourself didn’t make some fucked up team and start trying to “take over the world.” As long as Moody was alive, he would make sure that you wouldn’t go dark.

“That’s enough, you two.”

Evan focused his attention back on Moody. His cold grin became, if possible, colder. The “proud parent” expression on his face was undeniable.

“It bugs you, doesn’t it? The little girl that makes such a great auror is capable of doing dark magic. Luckily for you lot, she can get away with it being part of the job. If I did it, I would be in prison.”

Your eyes focused on Evan’s smug face. The last thing that you were going to do was to be anything like the man in front of you. You becoming an auror already proved that you weren't anything like your father. Regulus wrapped his hand around yours. His eyes hadn’t left Evan’s face. If looks could kill, Evan would be dead again.

“Stop looking at her”

Evan grinned again as if daring Regulus to do something.

“I can do what I want”

Before you were able to say something Regulus was out of his chair and had knocked Evan on his back. Evan’s blue eyes were focused on Regulus’ wand that was pointed right at his chest.

“Reggie, stop.”

You hissed but Regulus ignored you. He was trying everything he could to stop himself from killing Evan on the spot. It would be too easy but there were too many witnesses.

Evan, meanwhile, appeared surprised but wouldn’t give away any flickers of fear.

“Go ahead. Says crucio as you want. We both know that you can do it.”

Sirius stood up this time when you gave him a pleading expression.

“Regulus, enough.”

He said his voice firm. Regulus put his wand away but didn’t move to help Evan up. The fool could lay there in the floor with his feet in the air for all Regulus cared. Evan stood up and dusted his black clothing off.

“That was scary.”

Regulus took a breath before spinning around and punching Evan in the nose. Evan’s hands were instantly on his face as you stood up.

“Okay, happy family time is over. Regulus, now.”

Regulus turned and followed you out of the room. He ignored all the sets of eyes until the dining room door swung shut behind him.

Stepping into the living room, Regulus expected you to be angry with him. Instead, you looked thrilled.

“Was punching him as glorious as it looked?”

Regulus shook his left hand trying to ignore the throbbing going through his now bleeding knuckles.

“It felt pretty good.”

You clasped your hands together as Sirius and Remus stepped out of the room with matching smirks.

“I’ve been dreaming of laying into that punk from the moment that he walked in the door and you beat me to it.”

You giggled before taking Regulus’ hand into yours. Taking out your wand, you healed his hand. Regulus, didn’t look as thrilled with his actions as you did.

“Are you two good?”

Sirius questioned. Regulus didn’t look at his brother before nodding.

“Fine.”

“Come on, let's go get some air. Y/n, you may want to fix Evan’s face. He’s bleeding everywhere.”

Sirius added before motioning Regulus to come with him. Regulus shook his head.

“I’m not leaving her alone with him.”

“I’ll be there.”

Remus added. Regulus didn’t like the idea but Sirius was right. He did need to get some air before he went off on some innocent person that didn’t deserve is wrath.

“Fine, I’ll be back.”

You waited until the front door was closed before turning and following Remus back into the dining room that was now empty. Evan sat in a chair with several napkins shoved up his very swollen and obviously broken nose. It took all you had to not laugh at his state. If Evan wanted to appear “tough” this was a very damning way “not to do it.”

“We might as well fix your nose. You look ridiculous.”

You commented. Evan looked up, rolling his eyes.

“My nose is just fine.”

Stubborn man...you thought. It was no wonder that your poor mother went crazy or your grandmother was a nut. Your grandmother dealt with your deceased grandfather who was extremely stubborn and stuck in his own ways and your mother had your father (who now you were looking after). Their mental states were no longer any subject to questioning on your behalf.

“Fine, sit there and stew in your own juices.”

You replied, putting your wand away. Evan, wincing from the pain still going through his face, realized that the napkins were filling with blood and he had no other means to stop the bleeding.

“Okay, go ahead. I know this is going to hurt.”

You shrugged.

“Play stupid games and you’ll win stupid prizes.”

Evan smirked.

“He’s got a nasty temper...that man of yours. It's always benefited him well for the dark lord.”

You had to let the comment about Regulus roll off of your back. Evan wanted you to get upset...you knew this.

“You know I could be a dark witch very easily. Trust me I have had the opportunities and have had the thoughts. I wouldn’t worry about Regulus black if I were you.”

Evan’s eyes narrowed a bit more.

“It runs in the family.”

You tentatively reached out and touched his nose. Evan hissed when you pinched him.

“Too bad that I like breaking chains of behavior.”

You said with a smirk then said “episkey.” Evan groaned as his nose instantly healed. He put his hands over his face brushing away tears of pain.

“You never said what your mother did to you. I get the abuse part…”

“That’s enough.”

Remus came in with a very stern voice. You met his gaze with a grateful expression before turning back to Evan.

“That’s what you need to know. Abuse should be enough. I don’t have to worry about that now. She’s dead and gone...I guess I should thank you for that but I’m not. I don’t owe you anything.”

You did well avoiding Evan over the next couple of days. To your delight, you were called into work several days in a row which kept you away from the house. The more you stayed away from Evan, the better off you would be.

The only negative was you were spending more and more time away from Regulus. Both of you had been so busy that there were several days the two of you were so exhausted penciling in a kiss was difficult.

Regulus, meanwhile, had been on a job with Moody to attempt to take down some death eater. It had been a week since he had actually seen you in person. Phone calls and texts weren’t the same as seeing the face that he was in love with.

“I dare someone to bother the two of us over the next few days. I will hex the fuck out of whoever dares to knock on my door.”

Regulus muttered to himself as he stepped back inside Grimmauld Place. He was automatically greeted by the sound of Teddy screaming. Walking inside the living room, Regulus stopped seeing Sirius wandering around the room with the crying baby in his arms.

“What’s going on around here?”

Regulus asked as his clearly frazzled brother turned to face him. Evan, meanwhile, was sitting on the couch with a grin on his face.

“Did you come to watch the show? Your brother is about to unravel a jumper over this baby crying?”

Regulus scowled at Evan.

“I suppose that you couldn’t get off of your ass and help.”

Evan shook his head.

“Nope. I don’t live here. I’m trapped here. I never agreed to look after someone’s offspring.”

Regulus shrugged. He didn’t feel like dealing with Evan at the moment but this was a great time to throw some sarcasm his way.

“Well, you can’t look after your own so I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Regulus fought back a laugh as Evan’s smug smile faded and was replaced with an almost hurt expression. Turning his attention back to Sirius, Regulus frowned.

“Where are the kid’s parents?”

Sirius sighed.

“They went to get take-out. Does this baby look sick to you? I think his color is off.”

Regulus crossed his arms over his chest. What did Sirius honestly expect him to do? Regulus knew nothing about babies. He was, for the most part, avoiding Teddy because it reminded him of what he wouldn’t be able to have with you.

“What color was he earlier?”

Sirius stomped his foot impatient.

“That isn’t funny, Regulus.”

Regulus held his hands up.

“What the fuck do I look like? A fairy godmother or pediatrician?”

Sirius stepped forward with Teddy screaming even more. Regulus winced.

“This is a bad time for you to be a smartass! Does he feel warm to you? I think he might have a fever. Maybe we should take him to the hospital or something.”

Evan, from his place in the corner, laughed.

“Yeah, take him to the hospital over a fever.”

Regulus’ cold face was back on him.

“Look, if you don’t have something useful to say then shut up.”

Regulus reached out and put his hand on Teddy’s forehead before touching Sirius’ forehead then his own.

“I think he feels fine. You are probably stressing him out. Hell, you’re stressing me out.”

“What is going on?”

Both Regulus and Sirius turned to see you standing in the doorway. You had come home, wanting nothing more than to have a hot bath. Now it looked liek that wasn’t going to happen.

Sirius turned almost ready to beg you for help.

“I don’t know. He won’t stop crying. Nothing I do will help and your boyfriend is being mean.”

“I didn’t do anything to you!”

Regulus snapped. You had to fight the urge to laugh.

“Okay, Sirius let me have the baby.”

You crossed the room and gently took Teddy in your arms. After a few moments of quiet cuddling and smooth-talking, the little boy was content in your arms.

“I have been doing that for hours!”

Sirius said a little more over dramatically than necessary. Regulus rolled his eyes.

“Sirius, go take a nap or drink a juice box or something.”

You, meanwhile, were happy with cuddling Teddy. Maybe it was for the best that you didn’t have kids. Something told you that if Regulus and yourself had a baby this would be what you would come home to on the regular.

“Sheesh, all you all have to do is talk in a nice calm voice and look at that he stopped crying. I don’t know where the hell I have developed this skill from but babies smell fear. Look at these big blue eyes...I want one.”

The comment left your mouth before you had time to process your thoughts. Sirius and Regulus automatically had matching looks of pain on their faces. You blinked a few times, feeling automatically guilty. Regulus turned and walked from the room without another word.

Sirius held his arms out again.

“I’ll take the kid. You go deal with him.”

You followed Regulus out to the back garden. He stood with a cigarette in one hand while staring out into the darkness.

“Reggie, I didn’t think.”

He turned to you with a frown.

“I’m not mad at you...just the situation. You would be such a wonderful mum...so much better than what Sirius and I had. It's not fair that you...we don’t get a chance.”

Regulus didn’t care how much you denied it. You had grown so much since Teddy was born...maternally that is. No longer, did you quickly pass Teddy back to Tonks or Remus if he started crying. Now you cuddled the baby and knew exactly what to do to make the child happy.

There was also the honest truth about you being a much better mother than Walburga. Anyone would be a better mother than her! Regulus’ mind went back to a conversation that he overheard you have with Sirius a few weeks before…

“So you mean to tell me that you wouldn’t care what house your child was placed in at Hogwarts? I figured with Regulus and yourself both being Slytherins, you would want that.”

You looked up from the magazine that you were reading.

“It doesn’t matter. Every child is different and it shouldn’t matter what house a kid is put in. Just because mummy and daddy are in one house doesn’t mean that a child deserves to be treated or ostracized for being in another one...like yourself, for example, you didn’t deserve the hell that you were put through. If Regulus and I ever had a child that was put into Gryffindor that would be just fine. You’re a Gryffindor and I haven’t killed you yet so I think I could deal with my child being one. Every child has special traits and those traits should be valued...even if it is different from what your family considers appealing.”

You, meanwhile, wrapped your arms around Regulus from behind and pulled him from his thoughts. Smuggling your face against his back, you took a moment to speak.

“I can see that healer that Tonks told me about. I know it's something that you want...even though you deny it.”

Regulus didn’t respond for a few moments.

“And if it doesn’t work?”

You didn’t move your face from your previous position.

“At least we tried? I know it's reckless to be thinking about that during these times but…”

Regulus turned. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on the top of your head.

“Y/n, since when do we care about what people think? We wouldn't be together if we did.”

You nodded in agreement. Regulus was right there. The two of you would have broken up ages ago had others had their way.

“I’ll call the healer in the morning.”

_____

@amelie-black

@sunles

@realgaytrash

@swinginsoulbailiffrascal

@velveteencurls

@hello-love06

@spiderxalmighty

@brokencasbutt67-writer

@authoressskr

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@tas898

@stuckinsaudi1

@shaylybaby2032

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adangerousbond · 4 years ago

Text

Home is where the plane is

Honestly no idea what this even is, nearly 5K of Daisy and Daniel just cause?

Wrote this out in an afternoon and haven't really gone over it, so may have some errors.

Enjoy!

Read below or at ff.net or AO3

A sharp knock on her bunk door drew Daisy out of her ravine, from the constant time looping to the way in which they had been able to break it had drained her physically, but even more so mentally. Once the others had been debriefed, more by Coulson than herself, she had slunk out for some peace, Enoch's words still screaming at the back of her mind.

"Yeah," Daisy answered evenly, unsurprised when the door opened, and Sousa entered.

"Just wanted to check in on you," he explained, taking in her quiet demeanour as she sat on the edge of her bed, legs drawn in close to her chest.

"Of-course you did," she shook her head, catching sight at his furrowed brow to her words, "it's just very time-loopy of you, well I guess, very you of you."

"I'm sorry about Enoch," he brushed past her odd comment, sitting alongside her in quiet comradely.

"He said this is the teams last mission together," she spoke after a few minutes, stretching her legs out as she turned her head slightly towards him, a sadness to her expression as she continued, "that we'll survive but the team won't."

"What do you think he meant by that?" he watched her closer as he questioned her statement, pushing aside the desire to pull her close and hold her tightly, he knew that it was not his place, not yet anyway.

"I, I don't know, maybe something happens, maybe SHIELD is different and doesn't let us stay a team, or maybe we change something and we don't even know each other when we get back to our time," the scenarios that had been running through her mind spilled out, her concern at the options evident as she fidgeted.

"This team is closer than most families, I'm sure whatever happens, you'll still have each-others backs," he told her optimistically, neither really had any idea what type of future they would go back to, especially not someone who had ever been there.

"They're the only family I've ever had, this plane, it's the only home I've had, I don't know how to give that up," her words breaking the little self-control he had, as he reached a hand across to hers, her fidgeting stopping instantly.

"They'll still be your family even if the team doesn't do anymore missions together," he tried to reassure her, stroking her hand with his thumb as he filed away the little bits of information she had let slip out amongst her statements.

Staring straight ahead, she could feel his eyes on her, watching, making sure that she was okay, as always. Maybe it was watching her friends die over and over, or watching her friend die for real, but it gave her a need to live in the moment more than she usually would, to take a risk she wouldn't normally – sure she had acted more freely in the time loop, but she knew that would reset and he wouldn't remember. There had been a type of power in that, that she could see how he would react, how she would feel, when she questioned him, all while knowing and receiving the same response, a power that allowed her to be more open with him than normal.

Turning to him, she saw the question in his silence as she leant toward him, her hands reaching his collar as she chastely kissed him, drawing back almost instantly to give him a chance to take her move in, after all he didn't have memories of their loop conversations like she did. The surprise in his eyes turning to hunger just as quick as the time before, as he pulled her closer to him, hands already on her waist before she had realised he had even moved them, initiating a second, deeper kiss, one that wasn't bound by the same time restraints as in the loop.

"Probably fair to tell you that that happened in the time loop," she told him as they paused for moment, "only once, that I remember anyway."

"Anything else that happen that I should know about?" he chuckled, his wrist resting on her should as he played with the hair he had messed with his hand.

"You died, but we all pretty much did a number of times," she threw out nonchalantly, the memory still fresh in her mind, along with the memory of him once again sleeping at her side in the reset; alive and well.

Using the hand still on his collar, she practically dragged him back onto her bed, his hands slipping under her black top, leaving a trail of fire on her skin at the contact, the new position allowing them to sink deeper into the kiss. He pulled away slightly, to her annoyance, until she felt his lips on her neck, the shift in focus giving her a chance to work on undoing the buttons on the blue shirt she had spent a little to long in the loops appreciating.

They both jumped at the sound of May's voice coming through the ship's speakers, requesting everyone's attendance to a team meeting, Daniel straightening up so quickly that Daisy couldn't help but smile. -----------------------------------------------------------

"We didn't interrupt anything did we?" May asked with her usual even tone, as they entered the lab, the glint in her eye gaining her a glare in return from woman in question.

"What's going on? Daisy asked, brushing past the question as she looked around for the next issue at hand as she stopped alongside the labs bright table, "what time are we in now?"

"We look to be just a couple months from when we last jumped," Simmons spoke up, a tablet in hand ready to show her workings should anyone want further information on her statement.

"Which means that we…" Yo-Yo trailed off, glancing to May for help in explaining the situation.

"Which means what?" Daisy questioned, glancing between the two women that seemed to be at the forefront of her summoning's, "what are you all not saying?"

"I promised Jiaying that we would help with Nathaniel and Kora," May informed her, the older agent spoke in no major hurry to elaborate.

"Obviously, we would, clearly he has teamed up with Sybil," Daisy pushed in an annoyed tone, wishing that they would be more direct with her, but also apprehensive of where the topic was going, a slight glance to Sousa who was standing quietly next to her told her that he was unsure as well.

"It's just that to do that, she'll have to come onto the Zephyr," everyone's attention turning on Daisy the moment May got to the point, watching, waiting for what her reaction would be.

"Can't you just meet up with her on the ground? Or on the quin jet?" Daisy questioned, the unease at the idea bristling under her skin.

"We've already given them the co-ordinates," Mack spoke evenly, his tone and crossed arms leaving no room for further discussions on the topic.

"So, this isn't you guys asking me, this is you telling me," Daisy stated, her tone level and cold, gaining her a hint of surprise or concern, or something else that she couldn't quite pinpoint from the man still standing a fraction to close to her side.

"If there was any other way, but we just can't risk it, I don't have to tell you want happens if she dies," Coulson explained with a bit more tact.

"I won't be born," the young agent sighed, knowing it wasn't a fight she was going to win.

"That's not a risk I am willing to take," Coulson stated warmly, his head half-cocked with a small smile as he attempted to bring her on board with the plan.

"Bringing her on here could risk that still," Daisy countered, raising her eyebrow as she stared him down.

"The chances are better this way though," Simmons spoke up as she continued playing with the screen in front of her, "they've just arrived."

"We'll go get them," May stated, nodding for Yo-Yo to follow, figuring some familiar faces would help the situation.

"You guys really couldn't give me more warning?" Daisy asked, crossing her arms as she leant forward to talk in a quieter tone.

"They were worried you would talk them out of it," Deke told her before he realised what he was saying, his eyes going wide when he backtracked in his mind.

"Deke," Simmons exclaimed, glaring her grandson down before putting on her fake, supposedly calming smile and turned back to her friend, "we didn't have the time too."

"You only had, what, two minutes to tell me, was five too much to ask for?" Daisy hissed back, her words lacking any real anger as she had already accepted what was happening, not that she got much of a choice, as she uncrossed her arms to lean on the lap table instead.

"Play nice," her best friend shot back with a laugh, glancing up towards the door to watch their incoming arrivals, clocking the way that Sousa placed a gentle hand on the Daisy's arm in comfort.

"And this is the team," Yo-Yo explained, catching the unease in the air as they joined back with the group and hoping their companions would not.

"Hi, Jemma Simmons," Simmons jumped to greet the guests, her politeness pushing aside any of the room's bad energy, "and this is Deke."

"That's Mack, Phil Coulson, Daniel Sousa, and –" May continued the introductions, hesitating for a moment, realising there could be an issue with giving out the final member of the teams name to the past version of her mother.

"And I'm Skye Sousa," Daisy smiled politely, using the first thing that came to mind, the team's eyes flying to her and the man she had just roped into a marriage with her; his closeness to her and his hand on her arm playing into it enough that her statement wouldn't be questioned from the apparent strangers.

"Thank-you all for this, we were starting to worry we might not hear from you again," Jiaying told them, unfazed by the team's demeanours as she got to business instead, "but from the look on all your faces, you have had your own worries to deal with."

"You could say that," Simmons responded, nodding at her words, "but we did honestly come as quick as we could."

"Where exactly did you come from?" Gordon pressed further, unhappy with the lack of information being shared.

"It's a long story," Mack stated firmly, putting an end to the questioning.

"I've seen a lot in my time, but nothing like this plane," Jiaying moved on, understanding the tone of the room as she looked around it, her eyes settling on the younger woman across from her, "Skye, you have powers as well?"

"Yeah," Daisy drew her answer out hesitantly, making no move to demonstrate.

"Your friend was very tight lipped about where she got her's from, but you, there's something about them, you got through a diviner and a Cree temple didn't you?" Jiaying getting to the outcome quicker than the team liked, especially the one in question.

"Not by choice, but yes," Daisy responded honestly, trying to keep the bite from her tone as she instead tried to focus on the reassuring lines that Daniel's thumb was drawing on her arm.

"That has not been done in a very long time, it must have been very difficult to locate, how did you manage it?" Jiaying exclaimed, genuine interest and amazement blocking her concern for the tone to the responses she was gaining.

"It's complicated," Daisy stated coldly, bringing a silence over the room, and ending the questioning.

"Right, so we have been trying to locate either Kora or Nathaniel but not having much luck, any ideas where she might have gone to lay low?" Simmons switched the subject quickly, giving her friend a gentle smile.

"No, but I also never knew she would turn to the dark side so easily, I have spent her whole life trying to protect her," Jiaying responded, accepting the change with a polite ease.

"Maybe she needed to be taught to control her power not to fear it," Daisy stated evenly, knowing first-hand what it could do to you when the thing you feared was yourself.

"I tried, but everyone else was getting more and more afraid of her, which made her worse," her mother reasoned, the care and concern in her voice just working to anger Daisy further.

"Did you ever think about taking her away from Afterlife?" May cut in before a response could be voiced, a firm stare given towards the younger agent.

"Many times, but as I'm sure you all would know, people are either afraid of us or want to use us as weapons," Jiaying spoke sadly, she might not yet have been fully against everyone not powered, but for the team that knew her future they could sense the anger and hatred under there even now.

"Well we were designed to be weapons," Daisy stated casually, catching the eye of the man next to her, knowing he was paying close attention to the whole conversation and remembering he knew very little about any of the inhuman stuff.

"Some powers are more dangerous than others, but it is a gift, not a curse," the un-aging woman's sentence coming out as if she had said it a million times.

"That doesn't change the fact we were literally meant to be used for weapons, even your powers, they might seem harmless enough, but you can drain the life out of people," Daisy informed her matter-of-factly, she had after all felt those powers first hand but she knew it best to leave that particular part out.

"How do you know that?" her mother's tone went dark for a moment, the knowledge of what she could do troubling her, before she regrouped herself and continued, "regardless, that's not the belief that we choose at Afterlife."

"It's not a belief, it's just a fact," Daisy shrugged, turning to her team for support.

"She's right, the Cree who created the mutation in the first place told us," Coulson backed her up.

"You've met the ones that started this all?" Jiaying questioned, her interest peaked at the new information.

"Along with the monster meant to lead us to battle," Simmons shuddered at the memories, her tone enough to drop any further questions from their guests.

"Even if that is what we were first meant for, it's up to us to decide what it means now," Jiaying fell back to her almost cult sounding words.

"And that's not always the right choice," Daisy fired back.

"Alright, how about we all get some rest, I think we all need it," Simmons put a stop to the conversation at hand, deciding it best before something was said that might trip them all up, "May, if you could be so kind as to show our guests to their rooms."

Watching them leave, Daisy moved towards a closed laptop nearby, waving off Sousa as she did, she needed a moment to herself, to process and the best way she knew how was to hack. She could feel her best friend watching her closely, a warmth to her mothering that she couldn't help but wonder if she would feel once the mission was done and Enoch's truth came to light.

"That means everyone," Simmons scolded her with a soft smile.

"I'm just going to run through some of the cities networks, see if I can get into any," Daisy explained, returning her smile, "and then I promise to leave." -------------------------------------

Opening her bunks door, Daisy stilled for a moment at the sight of Daniel lying on her bed, flicking through some files he must have come across somewhere. His eyes catching hers as she entered, and she held back a head shake at the fact he was once again, always there.

"Mack told me to stay here, you know, to keep up your lie about us being married," he explained his presence, watching her carefully, not fully sure where they stood with each other right now.

"Right, sorry about that, I didn't think she should know my real name, and I didn't know what else to say," Daisy rambled her excuse off, smirking at him as she lowered herself down next to him, "though, really you started it by telling Gideon you were my fiancé like a decade ago."

"That would be a very long engagement," Daniel agreed with her reasoning, eyes narrowing as he asked the question that had been bugging him the most, "why Skye?"

"I went by that for a long time, I didn't know my real name and the orphanage gave me a terrible one, so I made my own," she told him after a moment, quieter than she had been and pulling her legs to her chest as she spoke.

"It's a nice name," his words kind as he focused on the positive, knowing she had gone through too much the last few days to want to delve into the rest of her statement.

Humming in response, she stared at the files he had been reading, her mind to busy to be able to focus on them, but after a few moments of silence, she turned away. Taking the hint, he went back to his reading, far from wanting to push her into anything and just thankful she seemed willing to let him stay, willing to let him be there for her and part of him wondered just what they had discussed in the time loops; at the very least, what had made her kiss him, not that he was complaining.

"The last time I saw her, my father killed her because she was trying to kill me," Daisy broke her own silence, the words coming out before she had decided if she was ready to share them, "she wanted to kill a lot of people and thought I would help her."

"That's horrible," he placed the files on the bedside table and reached for her hand, her fingers wrapping around his slowly as if she wasn't quite convinced that she should reach out to him.

"She had a lot of terrible stuff done to her, and I've always tried to convince myself that that excuse was enough, enough to explain how she was when I met her and what she did to me, I mean she apparently searched for me my whole life and yet was willing to kill me," she found that once she started talking, she was struggling to stop, he was just too easy to talk too, "but I have had terrible, terrible things done to me, and yes, I've done bad things, but I've always ended up doing the right thing, or at least I hope so, and I mean it just makes me think her excuses don't quite cut it, you know."

"And now to learn she had another daughter, that I've got a half-sister, one that she actually raised, and that one jumped to the wrong side so quick, and it makes me wonder, am I just fighting a loosing battle? Am I just one bad thing away from switching sides too? Deke's future knows me as the Destroyer of Worlds, so maybe it's not that big of a jump," she kept talking, "I've done some real bad things Daniel, you have no idea, maybe I'm not that much different than her. But seeing her like this, seeing her as a good, nice mother, it just makes it so much harder, maybe I was the one that come into her life and ruined it, that is my specialty, so how can I claim to be one of the good guys?"

"You are a good person, Daisy," he stated soundly, he had wanted to interject so many times through her rambling, but he could sense that she wasn't looking for a response, she just needed to talk.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to just unload on you," she sighed, refusing to meet his eye, but relishing in the warmth from his hand holding her tight.

"Daisy, I'm pretty sure you're the strongest person I've ever met, leaning on someone else doesn't make you weak," he told her honestly, squeezing her hand as if to back his statement.

Blinking away the tears that had started to form, she turned to him, her eyes trained on his as she tried to determine if she could believe him or not. Leaning forward, she closed the gap between them, kissing him firmly, a part of her hating how needy she could feel she was, but she needed this, she needed him, more than she could admit to even herself.

He rolled her onto her back, his lips never leaving hers as she set about undoing his shirt, his hand wrapped around the back of her head, tangled amongst her hair as his other slipped under her top and to the side of her waist, her hands dropping down to help him lift the plain black top up and over her head. She used the extra space the move created between them to push his now undone shirt off his shoulders, humming in annoyance when he used the space to pull away further.

"Are you sure you want this? You don't seem like you're in the best head space," he questioned, slightly out of breath, but ever the gentleman.

"Not sure if you've noticed, but I'm never really in a good headspace," she smirked back at him, nodding at his question nonetheless, pulling him back down to her level.

----------------------------------

"How long have you been up?" Yo-Yo asked, entering the gym with May following close behind, the two having planned a sparring session the night before that Daisy recalled had, while doing her hacking, overheard them fight over the start time of, won of course by May.

"I was checking on my hack and saw Jiaying heading to the kitchen, so here I am, hiding on a treadmill," Daisy huffed out a laugh, slowing the machine down to a walking speed.

"You seem in a better mood today," Yo-Yo grinned at her, whether implying something or just glad that her friend was happier, Daisy couldn't quite pinpoint.

"It was the first time in what seems like a very long time that I've woken up – " Daisy started, only to be interrupted before she could complete her response.

"We don't need to know what you woke up to," May smirked at her, her words catching an odd look from Yo-Yo as she tried to unpack them.

"That I've woken up not in the time loop," Daisy glared back, not playing into the older woman's trap, she could admit to herself that waking up next to Daniel had definitely also added to her good mood, but she was not about to admit that to her current companions.

"What is May talking about?" Yo-Yo asked, switching her focus between the two as she came to her own conclusion, "has she been doing her creepy empathic thing with you and Sousa?"

"Wait, what?!" Daisy near yelled, suddenly worried about what exactly her friend meant.

"Oh, come on, everyone can see the way he follows you around, and that you don't seem to mind," Yo-Yo explained her reasoning, smirking at her friend as she chose to ignore the bigger question for her statement regarding May.

"What did she mean May?" Daisy stopped the treadmill completely, feeling the dread come over her that she could only imagine was how teenagers felt when they were caught by their parents.

"It's okay, it doesn't reach through to your room," May let her off the hook quickly, shaking her head at the thought.

"Why not?" Yo-Yo asked, confused at the turn of events, but more interested in the answer.

"My room is lined with stuff to stop me from causing issues on the plane if I lose control of my powers again, so I'm guessing that stops your empathic stalking?" Daisy grinned, relief flooding over her as she started the machine back up to a light jog speed.

"Yes, thank god," May shared in her relief, she would have been feeling it had she been able to feel and it was refreshing for the emotion she felt to be fitting to what she was thinking.

"How do I get that? I told Mack and he's now traumatised," Yo-Yo exclaimed, making a mental note to bring it up with Simmons later as she quickly realised that although the other two knew of the lining, they weren't the type to have questioned what it was.

"Good, that would be too weird," Daisy smirked, making no move to dispel any beliefs that they had formed regarding her and Sousa, something not lost on the other two, "you're like my mum."

"Plus, I've seen you have nightmares, I don't want to feel those," May deadpanned, turning back to square up with Yo-Yo.

"Real supportive May," Daisy grinned back, expecting nothing less, but thankful now that those nightmares had gotten her at least some privacy.

"May, supportive? Feel's like we are interrupting something," Coulson joked from the doorway, flanked by Deke and Sousa.

"Yo-Yo was wanting to do some redecorating," Daisy stated quickly, making sure to get in first before any comments were made as she smiled in greeting to the men, her eyes resting on Daniel's for a moment longer than the rest, his trailing over her as she ran, gaining him a smirk in response.

"Oh, well if you want me to pick you up anything, actually here to see if anyone had anything they wanted added to my list as I'm heading out for a supply run," Deke informed them, missing the shared glare amongst the women.

"Jiaying's making breakfast," Coulson told them, his eyes narrowed on one in particular.

"I saw, hence the early morning workout," Daisy nodded, making no effort to hide the fact she was hiding in a gym.

"There are a few things you could get me actually, Deke," Yo-Yo stated as she stopped the sparring with May to write a list.

"Make sure to put some things for Daisy too," May told her, a grin on her face that put the woman in question on edge as she once more slowed her treadmill down to a walk.

"Oh, no, it's fine, she already told me," Deke brushed it off quickly, the underlying conversation of the room completely lost on him.

"Did she now?" Yo-Yo looked up from her writing with a smirk, sharing a look with the other two women.

"Yeah, I've got the sniffer devices and the list of the locations to plant them, it's like basic level hacking, super easy," Deke rattled off the information as if she had drilled it into him.

"Oh, right," Yo-Yo responded as she returned to her list, biting back a chuckle.

"See, I knew you three would be up to no good, what's going on here?" Coulson questioned them all, clearly not buying their poor attempt at hiding the previous topic.

"If you must know," May started, glancing between the two women either side of her as she could feel one's worry and the other's amusement at the turn of events.

"I don't think he does," Daisy stated quickly, her eyes narrowing on the older agent.

"My new empathic abilities, well, they have some side effects, and turns out I can also feel other people's, you know, alone time together," May explained with a grin, watching as everyone around her went dead still and slightly pale at her words.

"What now?" Deke asked, shuffling uncomfortably at the new information and wishing he had not been in the conversation at all as he looked between the unmoving Coulson, who was opening and closing his mouth as if he was actually lost for how to respond, and the small woman across from them, amused by the control she had over the room.

"They really don't want to know this May," Daisy stated sternly, giving a slight shake of her head to the now frozen Daniel, clearly very unsure of how he should proceed.

"So, I picked up on Yo-Yo and Mack's reunion and that's why Mack won't make eye contact with me anymore," May told the group, deciding to leave out the part about Daisy and Sousa, as she thought he might actually be good for her.

"We did not need to know that," Deke stated, turning, and leaving the moment that he got the list from Yo-Yo.

Simmons voice coming through the intercom interrupted anyone from commenting further, the break in the rooms focus gave Daisy a chance to mouth thank-you to May, before grinning at Daniel as he took a visible breath. Stepping off the treadmill, she made a move to follow the small group out of the room, falling into line next to Daniel with a quiet 'I'll explain later', she watched the team merge into one big group, one big family and couldn't seem to shake the tinge of sadness over Enoch's warning.

#daisy johnson #daisy x daniel #daniel sousa #daisy x sousa #dousy #daisysous #sousy #agents of shield #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.#aos fic #myfic

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salt-warrior · 4 years ago

Text

WHEN EARTH TURNS TO ASHES

Masterlist

Chapter Two: Angel of Hell

The crisp happy music thrummed in a chirpy harmony through Kai's ears. A smile lit his face as he opened his eyes and gently turned off his alarm clock. The smile remained as he turned on his favorite rock playlist and practically danced around his shared apartment, and allowing his hips to sway to the music. He even managed to smile as he read the morning news off his phone and ate his favorite breakfast of Cocoa Puffs.

It's not as though Kaito Crown was always happy; he just normally was. He loved going to school at the nearby university. He had aced all his business classes, due to the fact he had been trained since birth to overtake Beijing Empire. He was close with his dad and loved working with him. His life was great— no, it was perfect.

Kai had been raised in wealth; his father was the most proclaimed business man throughout the entire world. His mother had been a fashion icon that outshone all others. Kai himself was loved and known by everyone. The fact that he was smart and handsome didn't help his case.

A moan escaped the nearby room, and Kai laughed as he watched his best friend stumble out of his room and into the kitchen. Kai had known Carswell Thorne since they were in the first grade. Both came from well known families and had attended the same private academy in California.

"Did you rest well, Sleeping Beauty?" Kai raised an eyebrow. Thorne threw a laser beam glare back.

"Have you ever considered turning the music down? It's only seven in the morning for stars sake, and not all of us are morning people," Thorne retorted, plunking down in the seat across from Kai with his cup of coffee.

"Well, I'm sorry that you're cranky. Are you fighting with Kate again?"

Thorne tensed up at Kai's words. "Oh," Kai sighed. "I'm sorry, Thorne."

"It's alright, Crown." Thorne smiled, tight lipped. "It was bound to happen eventually. It's just like my father said: I'm 'toxic' when it comes to relationships," he air-quoted with a scowl, and Kai grinned at him.

"Hey, you've kept me around for what— sixteen years?" Thorne rolled his eyes at Kai's words.

"Yeah, that's only because I can't seem to get rid of you, no matter how bad of a friend I am."

Kai stood from his seat, placing his bowl in the empty sink. "Cheer up, little toxin. You'll find love eventually." Kai picked up his backpack and began to walk out the door, just as Thorne called out to him.

"How'd your date go last night, since we're talking about my sad love life."

"Oh, you know," Kai shrugged, wrapping a scarf around his neck. It really wasn't that cold, as Thorne like to remind him, but Kai was a wimp. "She was nice— really nice, but not the one. Redheads aren't exactly my type."

Kai had a great record in school. He was great at making friends. He was seemingly the most outgoing person alive, but he could never seem to get a girlfriend. It wasn't like he didn't have dozens of girls stalking him and wanting to go out with him. He just had never found one that understood him.

"Don't worry, mate," Thorne bowed in front of him, looking goofy in his plaid robe. "You'll find her someday."

***

The December weather had brought ice to the roads, causing Kai to change his regular course to school to a backroad, but Kai was having a blast as he drove he path while belting "Sweet Caroline" at the top of his lungs. He was right behind a really old and rusty Chevrolet Cavalier the color of dirt and waiting for the light to turn green.

Finally it did, and the old Chevy began to move forward. Kai waited a second, before following behind it, not wanting any surprises from the piece of junk. The drive was nice and breezy, and Kai hardly hit any ice. The song changed, and on came Hit Me With Your Best Shot by Pat Benetar.

Kai sang along, enjoying the chorus. He loved listening to songs in his car. He thrived off the feeling of singing until his lungs burned, but his father had told him at a young age that he sounded like a dying peacock when he sang so he only belted out melodies when he was alone.

The chorus was playing a final time when, out of the blue, a red sports car slammed into the old Chevy. The crack of sound that cut through the air was deafening. Time seemed to slow down and Kai watched in horror as the Chevy in front of him tried to stop sliding. Tried so hard, but was no match for the ice and propulsion.

Kai slammed on his brakes, and came to a complete stop just in time to watch the dirt colored car fall off the road and roll down the hill. It tumbled for what seemed like a lifetime, and Kai wondered if whoever was in there would live. He finally understood the expression "watching a slow-motion car crash." It was terrifying.

An eternity later, the car came to a stop at the bottom of the slope. The red sports car had stayed on the road, but was crunched in the front. Kai got out of his car, and walked over to the red car, ears ringing.

The drivers side was a wreck, but the woman sitting there was alive. She had dark auburn hair, and a tearstained face. Her entire body was shaking horribly and her door was jammed. The airbag was deflating, and Kai could tell the lady was crying though he couldn't quite hear her. All the noise had become one high pitched note that seemed to forever echo throughout his head.

Kai walked around the car to the passenger's side. The door opened easily, and Kai began speaking to the woman. He motioned for her to climb out of her vehicle, before anything else happened, and she complied.

Everything seemed so easy. Sure, this woman was in shock but she was still able to get out of her car by herself. Kai had just pulled out his phone to call the police when a spark of light caught the corner of his eye.

Kai practically threw his phone at the red car woman in his haste to run down the hill. How could he be so stupid? Obviously the car that had rolled down a hill would need help first. Kai mentally cursed himself for his idiocy.

Kai threw himself down the diagonal slope in a sprint, attempting to get to to the old car. He ignored the cries of the woman behind him, even as she screamed and wailed. The flames had started small, but were quickly climbing across the surface of the old rust-bucket, the color brighter than normal flames. Kai could see that there was only one person in the car, but he couldn't tell if it was a male or female. They weren't screaming, which frightened Kai. Maybe they were unconscious, or maybe he was too late to save them.

The hill wasn't necessarily long, but it seemed so as Kai raced down at top speed. Flames danced farther along the car, and Kai had the sickening feeling that they were eating the driver alive.

Finally Kai reached the car. It was rolled onto the driver's side, so he knew he would have to get in through the passenger's side again. Kai tried to open the door, but it was jammed.

Cursing, Kai looked at the ground. He had his pocket knife with him, having been told from his boy scout master to “always be prepared.” He couldn't use that to open the door though. Still scanning the ground, Kai's eyes landed on a rather large rock. He smiled and knew that it would work.

Kai began hammering on the window with his rock. The glass began to splinter, and the sickening feeling hit Kai. How long would it take to break the window if rolling down a hill hadn't done it? He had to get that person out of there soon, or else they would either be engulfed in flames or choke on the smoke. Kai was that person's only hope; he had to save them.

The glass seemed almost indestructible, but Kai somehow managed to shatter it all into a thousand pieces. Kai whooped with joy, and began climbing into the car.

That's when he laid eyes on her. She was beautiful, with flames surrounding her, casting a dark, protective shadow. Kai wondered if Hell had angels, and he knew that if they did, this is what they would look like. Kai internally slapped himself for thinking like that during a crisis and tried to undo her seatbelt. It was jammed.

Not even checking to see if she was conscious, he pulled out his pocket knife. The blade was prime, seeing as Kai sharpened it once a month. He wasn't a crazy survivalist, or anything, but he wanted to be prepared.

Kai began sawing through the rough material, and it was much easier than breaking the window glass, though the smoke made it impossible to breathe. The threads came undone in less than sixty seconds and Kai began to wonder if they could ever actually keep anyone safe.

Flames fluttered across his skin, but Kai kept sawing. He had to keep going, even if it meant he got a few burns. Kai knew that the girl was going to have it worse than him, and he had to save her.

The final thread snapped, and Kai grabbed the girl, before she could fall into the windshield. He tucked his knife back into his pants, and began to drag the girl's limp body away from the wreckage.

Kai climbed out backwards, trying to keep both hands on the girl. Glass cut deep into his skin and he winced. The smoke was suffocating him, and he started to panic. Gradually, he pulled his own body from the destruction, and only had the girl left. As gently as he could, Kai hauled her from the car, trying not to let the glass scrape her.

Kai tugged at the girl, and she finally became free of the Hell she had been in. The girl had her chocolate eyes open, but Kai could tell that she was drifting away. He spoke to her. Telling her to stay with him—not to go to sleep, but stay awake— stay alive. He still didn't understand why, but he needed to save her.

He felt as though his life was connected to hers, and the only way to make it complete would be to save her. Her brown eyes locked on his, staring into what must have been his soul. He yelled, wishing he knew her name.

Her lids closed, and the finality seemed to hit Kai like a bulldozer. He ran up the hill, the dying girl still in his arms. He had never run so hard in all of his life—his lungs burning from smoke and exertion.

By the time Kai had climbed to the top of the hill, he could hardly breathe. The smoke was gone, but he knew that it would stay within him for a long, long time.

The red car lady was sprawled across Kai's car, tears running down her cheeks. She was still shaking, though Kai was not surprised. He himself was in shock due to the event that had played before him.

She still had his phone in her hand, and Kai wondered if she had called the police. Kai marched straight for the woman. "Did you call the police?" Kai yelled. His hearing had come back to him, but his ears were still ringing slightly.

The woman nodded and then whimpered. She was she began sobbing hysterically, and Kai felt sympathetic. This woman had not asked for this— it was not her fault.

Kai then remembered the girl in his arms. She had also not asked for this, but look where she was. He set her down on the ground, not sure what to do.

That's when Kai caught sight of her body. She was burned along her entire left side. Her leg was charred black up to her knee, and the rest of her flesh was a raw red with angry blisters already converging.

Kai began dry heaving at the sight and had to look away. How was this girl even alive? Was she still alive? Kai dropped down on his knees and checked for a pulse. He was met by a light, slow thump, and knew they didn't have much time.

The snow on the side of the road was crisp, white and clean. Kai walked over and scooped up an arm full. He wasn't a doctor, or anything, but Kai was pretty sure that it wouldn't do any harm to try and cool her skin down.

White soon covered the charred black flesh, but Kai still felt hopeless. He wished he could do more.

About five minutes later, Kai heard sirens. He jumped up, lifting the burned girl with him. The snow had melted on her skin, and drizzled off in dark, flaking droplets.

Kai watched as the ambulances sped to a stop in front of all the wreckage. EMT's immediately jumped out of the vehicle, pulling two stretchers with them.

People rushed over to the burned girl first, pulling her away and into the first ambulance. They didn't even wait to check on her before loading her up and driving away. Kai stood, still shocked at how fast they had worked.

The rest of the attendants checked the red car lady, and pulled her onto the second stretcher. A woman came over to him, and began asking him questions. He couldn't speak. The world was going at one hundred miles an hour, and he couldn't grasp anything.

Kai fell to the ground, clutching his head, trying to get a grip, but he couldn't. The woman shouted over her shoulder, and hands lifted Kai up onto another stretcher. He began to feel dizzy, wondering where he was.

Medics rushed around him, pushing him into the ambulance. Kai smiled. He had always wanted to see the inside of one of these when he was a kid. The vehicle began to move, and Kai laughed. His eyelids began to droop, and Kai's last thought before drifting off were of the beautiful Angel of Hell.

Tag list: @cerenoya (Let me know if you want to be added!)

#wetta #when earth turns to ashes #kaider #kaider fanfiction #tlc fanfiction #the lunar chronicles #lunar chronicles #marissa meyer #linh cinder #prince kai #kai #emperor kai #selene blackburn #cinder #kaider au #salt warrior stories

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sadsapphicslut · 4 years ago

Text

chapter one - original story (i havent come up with a title yet lol)

okay so here it is!! if anyone actually reads this i love u :) please leave feedback if u have any!!

TWs:

death, drugs, medication, mental illness, references to sex, swearing, alcohol

wordcount: 8.2k

(also i dont think anyone will but im paranoid of people stealing my writing so obligatory dont copy/post to another site or steal my work in any other ways etc)

There were five of us; 4 boys and me. In hindsight I realize from the outside our group probably seemed a little predatory, but it was never really like that. For the most part they were like brothers to me. Of course, being the only girl in a small and isolated club of mainly older boys, things were bound to happen. We were in high school and it was summer, can you blame me? Regardless, however much I loved them, it was not quite in the way my father always assumed or my mother always warned (during our uncomfortable monthly visitations before I managed to get rid of her for good).

The months everything went down, which I often referred to only as ‘The Worst Summer of My Life’, (quite melodramatically but not without reason) were somehow still full of the best moments of my life. Moments I often find myself wishing I could repeat, as nothing has or will ever come close to the way I felt, sitting amongst my boys day after day, somehow light as the warm July breeze that blew past us. My entire body weightless, as non-existent as the time that passed us by. Despite the depression I’d found myself plunged into during the days after my only brother’s death, I truly believe I will never again be as happy as I was then. Laughter seemed to flow freely from our mouths, smiles plastered onto our faces no matter the circumstances, content to just exist. I don’t think I can ever forget the day it was raining so hard the entire city was flooded, but we walked around uptown well past the point of being absolutely drenched, our clothes dripping so heavily the security guard denied us entry into the public library. Something about that day made me feel so free, like we were invisible. Completely apathetic to the whims of the real world, somehow existing only in our twisted minds and intertwined fantasies.

Maybe if I’d had my head screwed on a little tighter, or if we’d met under different circumstances, it wouldn’t have ended the way it did. I used to go down that line of thought every night before succumbing to a fitful but heavy sleep (under the direct affect of 25mg of Quetiapine, working to counteract my Concerta and Lexapro). Those types of irrational thoughts were ones my therapist deemed as my habit for rumination. In regard to the death of my brother she called it ‘bargaining’, one of the stages of grief. I never liked it when she spoke about those stages as I’ve always felt them to be wrong. Maybe because I never quite moved on to the final one, no matter how many years pass. ‘Acceptance’, coined as the “Re-entrance to reality”. Maybe it’s different since I was never really grounded to reality in the first place. I still wake up some mornings, thinking I’ve heard his voice in the other room, ready to beguile me with tales from his day of retail work. Other times I swear I’ve walked past him on the street. Some people may relate to my experiences, with reasonings of ghosts, angels, apparitions, or insanity, among many other causes for the apparent viewing of a loved one long gone to the other side. I never shared these beliefs, but I am not one to deny. Rather, I always take these instances as an omen. A warning. I have come to this conclusion not without evidence, at least circumstantial, given the many occasions over the years – and especially that summer – where I found my hypothesis to be true. All I can say is that I am glad I’ve never been met with the same chimerical visions of my mother; one can only hope that is because she ended up where she belonged. Maybe I’ll see her there, though I hope at the very least they could keep us in separate rooms of Hell if the situation does arise.

From what I know of the others now, which is admittedly not much – majorly due to my own neglect, as opposed to theirs – they share the same prescription for rose-coloured glasses as I. We always were too engrossed with our own romanticization of nostalgia and sentiment that it clouded our view. I often think this was one of the reasons we seemed to fit so well together. Not quite like puzzle pieces, too self-absorbed to hold a candle to that analogy, more like complimentary colours. I wish it could’ve stayed the way it was. We did try, and I never found myself able to fully disentangle myself from James, nor he could to I, but for most of us we could recognize an ending when one arises. I used to find myself using the word tragedy a lot while reminiscing, but I no longer think that word is appropriate. Fate is a more fitting term in my opinion, regardless of if one believes in it or not. “(A)n inevitable and often adverse outcome, condition, or end,” as reported by Merriam Webster. I don’t think there’s a word in the entire English language more accurate in describing how everything ended up; and if there is, I am yet to find it.

Chapter One

A Dead Brother

I have tried to erase the day my brother died from my memory so many times I lost count decades ago. I still find the image seeping into my unconsciousness quite dreadfully on the nights I neglect to take my pills and catch myself waking up with a steady flow of tears that dampen my pillow along with the drool that always seems to pour from my sleeping mouth. The dread that pools in my stomach sometimes being heavy enough for me to lose my lunch. I frequently wonder how people managed to reassure me that it wasn’t my fault; the most painful lie I’ve ever been told and one that seemed to stream from people’s mouths as easily as the mini sandwiches laid in the living room of my brother’s wake were stuffed in. The worst part about being told it wasn’t my fault was how obviously one could tell they didn’t believe what they were saying either. His death was my fault; a fact so uncontestable I wanted to kill myself every time I was reminded of it.

My therapist often tried to remind me that even if his death was “partially” (she always used the word partially, refusing to acknowledge the truth that his death was entirely my fault) my fault, there was nothing I could’ve done to prevent it. This was another lie I despised being told. There were a million ways I could have prevented his death or saved his life and yet, here we are, with him dead and me wishing everyday that I won’t wake up tomorrow. “Begonia,” she’d tell me – she was the only person who called me by my full name, I usually went by Nia, but a nickname felt too personal and I didn’t like her very much – “You mustn’t keep torturing yourself with these scenarios. He’s dead, and there is nothing you can do to change that. I am starting to wonder if you are going to let yourself move on. This isn’t healthy.” That was a line she liked to use a lot, “this isn’t healthy”. As if anything I do is.

Barb, my therapist that is, liked to go over the details of my brother’s death a lot. She often called it a ‘trigger’, which is why she always seemed to want me to talk about it. “Trauma is a horrible thing, Begonia, and you must learn to move past it, process it. I can see you still haven’t managed to do that on your own, and that’s what I’m here for, to help you move on.” Barb was big on the idea of “moving past trauma” and “learning to cope”, she often sounded like a broken record of a motivational speech. I found myself comparing her to school guidance councillors without realizing it, they were about equally as helpful (read: not helpful) in my opinion.

Sometimes I blame my inability to forget and “move past” my brother’s death on the way Barb constantly brought it up and made me go through it. I never quite understood how that part of my therapy was supposed to help me. I asked her once, what good was it doing rehashing the worst day of my life?

“Well, Begonia,” I hated the way she said my name, always so condescending and sour, like even the idea of me questioning her in any way was as impolite as shitting on her desk.

“You have to understand that I only want to help you. You seem to be unable to process your traumas on your own, which is why we need to go through these things. As you are aware, this PTSD,” she always left strange pauses after each letter, her slow tone grinding on my ears, “you have acquired has left you unable to function normally in daily life. I want you to get to a place where you can have a normal life (Ha!) and cope without these meetings. It’s what your brother would’ve wanted.” Barb liked to tell me what my brother would have wanted at least once every session. Putting aside the fact she knew next to nothing about him aside from the intimate details on how he died, I always thought it was an inappropriate thing to say as a psychologist specializing in grief counselling. It never particularly bothered me, I was reasonable enough to realize she was just trying to comfort me, but I never liked the phrase. “What your brother would’ve wanted.” What he would’ve wanted was to not die but we’re past that, aren’t we Barb, as you so often enjoyed telling me.

I have always been quite averse to my diagnoses, ADHD at 14, Persistent Depressive Disorder at 15, PTSD at 16, issues with alcohol and drugs that landed me in rehab more than once. I’ve been on a concoction of different medications since I was 13, even before I was diagnosed with anything officially. Sertraline, Lexapro, Prozac, Ritalin, Concerta, Adderall, Quetiapine, Ambien, Zopiclone, a healthy mix of off brand and branded medications. Sleeping pills, antidepressants, stimulants. I can’t remember a time before monthly trips to the drug store and side effect surveys that I’m not sure if I ever told the truth on. It’s a wonder that people didn’t see a slew of addiction issues coming from a mile away.

I think I’ve always had the most contention with my PTSD diagnosis though, I hate it because I know it’s undeniably true. I wish it wasn’t because maybe that’d mean my brother was still alive, but he isn’t. And I’m left traumatized and bereaved. Sometimes it feels like it hurt me more than it ever did my mother or father. Maybe it did. I should feel selfish for saying that, but I can’t, because they didn’t have to look at him while the life left his body, praying to God for the ability to turn back time. See the moment his eyes glazed over, knowing I’d never get to hear his obnoxious laugh, or make fun of his dumb face ever again.

❈

“Ray, hey listen I need you to come pick me up.”

It was a cool evening in May, the end of spring brought with it the promise of summer and the air had the familiar aroma of daffodils and petrichor. I had decided to go to a party with my friend Faun, my dad having been out at his girlfriend’s place for the weekend and me having nothing better to do. I wasn’t one for partying, but I did like to get high, so I usually just hung around with the rest of the potheads and pill junkies until someone dragged me home or I fell asleep. That night Don, a friend of a friend of a friend, had brought coke and E and we were all determined to get as fucked up as possible. Faun only ended up doing one line before running into a bedroom with some guy whose name started with an M – was it Martin or Marvin? Maybe it was Mickey – and left me sitting on the couch beside a girl who was about 1 more shot of vodka away from passing out.

I had fully intended on doing some coke, but the E seemed to be hitting harder than I was used to. I was sure my Ritalin had worn off by then but maybe I was wrong. As I stood up to get a glass of water I nearly fell over and decided to sit back down. Turning to face Don, I tapped him on the shoulder trying to get his attention.

“What was in that molly?” I was vaguely aware of the way my words were slurring, but I felt weirdly energized. I was aware my heart was beating a little too fast, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I knew what ecstasy felt like, this was not nearly my first time doing it, but I felt really wrong.

“Don!” He turned to look at me and I felt uneasy. His eyes looked a little crazed – not that out of the ordinary but given the circumstances I was worried – “What the fuck did you give me?” It felt like I’d done 5 lines of coke in the last 2 minutes and I knew that E had been spiked.

Don’s face had an unmistakable expression of guilt written on it as he leaned down and whispered in my ear, his voice shaking, “I think it was cut with meth.” Fuck. My stomach dropped. I have to get out of here. I quickly shot up from the musty couch I was sat on, carefully holding onto Don’s shoulder so I didn’t fall, my legs still feeling unsteady. I opened my phone; the screen was too bright, and I had a hard time maneuvering it as I attempted to exit the house. Clicking the green Messages icon, I sent a text to Faun – e ws cut w meth im lesving – with shaky hands and burst out the door into the fresh air. I clicked my brother’s contact and pressed call.

It rang four times before he picked up.

“Nia? Why are you calling me it’s like 1am?” I could tell from the smooth tone of his voice he’d been drinking. He didn’t very often but he had an appreciation for cocktails and enjoyed getting buzzed now and then. He still was a year from being legal to drink but his friends we’re all 19 and 20 and bought alcohol for him. I found him fun when he got drunk, becoming talkative and giggly, but right now I wished so badly for him to be sober.

“Ray, hey listen I need you to come pick me up.” I was slurring, my voice a bit too pitchy to pass as anything but high. I knew he didn’t like it when I did this, but he never ratted me out. Sometimes I wish he did, maybe I never would’ve been able to go to that party in the first place.

I could hear a door shutting on his end, I assumed he was going into a different room. “What’s wrong?” My skin was bubbling with anxiety at the prospect of having to tell him what I did.

“Fuck, uh… I did something stupid. I’m at Emily Goguen’s, y’know up in Champlain Heights. Please pick me up.” I rarely used the word please.

“Nia, what the fuck did you do?” I almost started crying but I found my eyes to be bone dry.

“Please don’t yell.”

“Okay, really, tell me what is going on or I won’t come get you.”

“I accidentally took meth.”

“You what? What the fuck, Nia! Fuck this I’m on my way and I’m fucking telling Dad.” I cringed but I knew he was going to before I even called. The pit in my stomach grew deeper as the buzzing of my skin grew stronger. I could feel myself getting higher, everything was so clear and standing around was making me grow restless. Ray huffed on the phone and I heard him entering his car.

His tone was softer the next time he spoke. “I’ll be there in 5, just stay put, please. Do you want me to stay on the call or can I hang up?”

I felt like a child, which I was really, only 16 at the time, a whole life ahead of me. Still, I was grateful for the way he spoke to me, reminiscent of being 6 and getting a scrapped knee after falling off my pink Razor scooter. The high made me edgy, and my voice was sharp to my ears, “No, you can hang up.” I heard the click to indicate he’d done just that, and started pushing my cuticles as I waited, the task somehow greatly interesting me, and I did not realize until later I had managed to pick off all of the skin around my pointer and middle fingernails during the five-minute wait.

Ray pulled up exactly five minutes later in his ugly, blue 2011 Ford Fiesta he’d gotten the year prior after passing his driving test. What I wouldn’t do now to smell the inside of that car once again, a distinct attar of pineapple car freshener and Old Spice deodorant mixed with stale black tea, faintly present due to his ever-growing collection of empty paper cups from various different fast foods and coffee shops.

I stumbled into the car, feeling the strong impulse to clean the space, but attempting to push it down. From the passenger side overhead mirror I could see my blown pupils and sweaty forehead, pieces of my copper red hair sticking to my face. My freckles were showing through my concealer that had mostly worn off and I wanted to cover them back up. My skin was pale from winter (and probably the drugs in my system) but my cheeks were flushed like I was drunk. My high cheekbones made my face look gaunt in the lighting, but my face was wide which balanced it out, so I didn’t look completely skeletal. Ray was looking at me, the worry apparent in his eyes, but his face was flushed as well, and I could tell he’d been drinking a bit too much to drive. I had my license as well, but it was clear I was in no condition to take over on that front, so I didn’t bother saying anything. I wish I had. There’s a lot of things I wish. I wish I hadn’t gone to that party; I wish I hadn’t taken that E; I wish I called someone else; I wish I waited it out at Emily’s; I wish I walked home; I wish I took a cab; I wish I waited for Faun; I wish I wish I wish I wish I wish.

“Are you okay?” He didn’t take his eyes off me as I shut the mirror in front of me.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll be fine. Please just take me home.”

“Is Dad there?”

“No.”

“Maybe I should take you to Mom’s.”

“No!” I’d moved out of my mom’s completely just over 6 months ago, barely seeing her once a month. It was one of the best decisions I’d ever made. She never liked me much anyways, the feeling was entirely mutual. Ray seemed to have a close bond with her for some reason despite how she treated him like shit. I never called him out though, he no longer lived with her, so I didn’t really care what their relationship was as long as she wasn’t hurting him. She did treat him significantly better than me, however, so I figured maybe he managed to forgive her the way I never could.

“Okay, but I’m staying with you until Dad gets home. I’m not gonna lie to him about this shit. Fucking meth, Nia? Seriously?”

“It was in the molly.” He sighed and started driving.

My brain felt like it was filled with butterflies, or ants, some kind of movement that was itching at my skull. The paper cups scattered around were making me anxious and I needed to clean his car. I began picking at my nails again, but I needed to pick up those cups, you see. I turned around and started gathering the ones Ray had discarded in the back, filling up an empty plastic bag from Best Buy. I was fully switched around in my seat, nearly crawling into the backseat to reach the trash my brother had left. I felt him tap my side, I looked over at him and he started to scold me.

“Nia, stop that will you, you’re distracting me.” But I needed to finish gathering the cups. The car was dirty, and my skin was itching, the traffic lights burning my skin. I was elated and I didn’t want to listen to him, he was just trying to get in my way. I continued to lean over, not registering the swerve of the car as he looked over at me.

“Nia – ”

He turned over to push me back into my seat, his eyes leaving the road for no more than a few seconds. This time I felt the swerve as we broke into the next lane.

This is where I have a hard time piecing together what happened. From what I was told, we ended up running directly into a 2015 Dodge Ram 2500. In case you understandably have a lack of knowledge when it comes to cars, that is a very large, sturdy, and expensive pickup truck which I would probably consider the last vehicle you’d want to charge headfirst into while going 70km per hour. I don’t recall the actual incident of hitting the truck, whether that be from the drugs, the position I was in, or hitting my head on the roof of the car, I don’t know. What I do know is that when I woke up, we were in a ditch on the side of the road, with the car flipped upside down, and my entire body was screaming at me to Get Out!

I felt blood oozing sluggishly from my head and noted some indistinct pain in my right wrist where it had scraped something pretty badly and gotten twisted, but I otherwise felt alright. I couldn’t tell if the cloudiness in my head was from a concussion or the earlier events of the night, but I figured it was probably good I was awake, regardless of how dazed I seemed.

I turned my head to the left and was greeted by a view I will never be able to forget, it having been branded to the insides of my eyelids, scorched in my mind. Ray, with his left arm twisted in spectacular fashion, reminding me of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, after Lockhart spells away Harry’s bones. My brother had always been squeamish with broken bones and I hoped he wasn’t aware of how his limb looked at the moment. His head was bleeding quite profusely, and I was alarmed despite how many times I’d heard in movies that headwounds bleed a lot. His eyelids were fluttering, irises appearing glassy and unfocussed. And then I saw it. A piece of glass was stuck in the left side of his neck. The windshield apparently had broken with the impact and my brother was lucky enough to get a piece lodged right in his trachea. It was thick, bright red blood – that I could’ve sworn was sparkling in my current inebriated perspective – was gushing out the side, so heavy I could smell it, taste it, in the air. I was frozen once I realized.

Do something, do something! Put pressure on it! Call 9-1-1! My mind was screaming at me, but it was all I could do to sit and watch the blood stain his clothes. He was wearing the corduroy jacket I’d gotten him for his birthday and a white button up, the red seeped into them until it was as if they’d always been that colour. My voice was caught in my throat, but I managed to push some sound past.

“Ray?” It was weaker than a whisper but in the silence that seemed to envelope us in that car, completely independent of the outside world and sirens that could surely be heard from blocks away, I knew he would be able to hear me.

He looked up, eyes focussing slightly on me, and a tear slipped down his face, only it went the wrong way since we were still upside down. He mouthed the words “I love you”. We never said that to each other. As close as we were, our relationship had always been more comparable to that of a best friend than sibling. We weren’t overly affectionate, never hugged or said I love you, hung out for enjoyment rather than as a punishment. Most people didn’t know we were brother and sister until we pointed it out, we never really looked alike and were absent of the traditional distaste and rivalry usually present between siblings. I knew, as he looked me in the eyes and said those words, this would be the last time I’d ever see him outside of a morgue.

I sat in my seat next to him with dry eyes, wishing desperately I could cry, needing to express the feeling of utter horror and despondency that completely overtook my body and mind, but I couldn’t. Barb told me time and time again that I was in shock, there was nothing I could’ve done, but I will never be able to believe that. I still remember the moment the final tear slipped down his face. He smiled at me, pain evident in his eyes. His entire body was covered in the metallic smelling red, and I wanted to vomit. I wish I could say the crash had sobered me, but it didn’t, not really. I was still entirely in a daze as I saw his muscles relax, smiling falling from his face, eyes not quite rolling back all the way but enough to give me nightmares for the next 20 years. The life had been absorbed from his body, leaving a heavy shell. I was told afterwards this all happened within the span of 10 minutes, but it felt like years. By the time the first responders had appeared I was an old woman. Grayed hair, and arthritic bones. Mourning for the brother I’d lost oh so many years ago, when I was just a girl. I think in a way I died in that car with him, I never was really the same. But who would be? Best friend and confidant, older brother, idol, dying in front of your eyes as you do nothing, knowing for the rest of your life that his death is – was – your fault. Knowing you could’ve done something, anything really, to prevent his untimely loss of life before the paramedics arrived. If I’d been the same after that night I would have to be much more disturbed than I ever thought.

I sat in that car beside Ray’s corpse for 3 more minutes before I heard the sirens closing in around us – me. I thought I might pass out, either from the toll of what I’d just witnessed or from my concussion, but I remained upright, probably from the adrenaline. I couldn’t move so I just waited, and hoped I’d die too before anyone reached the scene. It would be much preferrable to any other outcome I could think of at the time. I could vaguely register the pain in my wrist, but I felt so numb I’m sure you could’ve shot me in the foot and I wouldn’t have blinked.

A young fireman named Walter ended up getting me out of the car. The door was smashed and stuck which meant I’d been trapped in there either way. I was happy I hadn’t bothered trying to escape as I'm terribly claustrophobic and finding out I couldn’t would have thrown me into a proper panic attack. The fireman was incredibly nice, saying reassuring things the entire time they were opening the door with the “Jaws of Life”. I ended up seeing him again in the hospital actually, or at least that’s what my father told me. He wanted to check in on me and left me some hydrangeas in a vase. I always preferred chrysanthemums but I'm not that picky when it comes to a floral arrangement.

After the door was busted open I was carried out by Walter. I was shaking and apparently babbling nonsense but in my head I was trying to tell them to save Ray. I wasn’t really aware of all that much, completely blind to the crowd of spectators that had rudely gathered to witness the violence – wasn’t it supposed to be taboo to stop at a car crash? Wondering vaguely about what happened and wishing you could get a better look as you drive past the scene. My head wound had made me a bit incompetent and the meth in my system was really not helping the entire situation.

I was laid on a gurney and rolled onto an ambulance. I don’t remember much about the ride; the sirens, the bright lights, a paramedic named Alice who spoke softly, smoothing out my hair while the other put an oxygen mask on my face (which I wasn’t entirely cognizant enough to question though now I'm not really sure why they did it) and splinted my wrist. Alice asked me if I was on drugs and I nodded but was unable to speak when she asked me what ( I would find this a common occurrence after the accident, my voice seemingly stolen alongside Ray’s). She just nodded and said something to the other ME that I didn’t quite pick up. She asked if I could tell her my name and I shook my head. She must’ve noticed the iPhone in my pocket and grabbed it, turning to the medical ID page.

“Is your name Begonia?” I nodded, though the name sounded foreign on my ears. I liked the way Alice said it though, she had a light Spanish accent and a matronly tone that made me feel safe. I wondered if she had kids of her own; she looked young, but my own mother had me at 19 so who could say? She told me her name after complimenting mine. “Begonia is a beautiful name; I love the flowers. I’m Alice, okay? We’re gonna make sure you’re alright and take you to the hospital.” Her voice was sweet like syrup and I became sleepy as she spoke.

“No honey, you can’t fall asleep yet. Just stay awake a little bit longer and I promise you they’ll let you sleep at the hospital.”

I don’t remember anything of the rest of the ride to the hospital. I was dropped off at the Emergency Room at the Regional, head still too foggy to allow me to recall anything before I was sitting in a white bed, in a white room, with white sheets and a light blue hospital gown on. It was morning and my father was sitting at the end of my bed in an uncomfortable plastic chair, his eyes bloodshot and moist. He’d very obviously been crying for a long time and my chest panged with guilt. I reached up to feel my head and realized there was a cast on my wrist. With my other hand I touched the cotton that covered my forehead, wincing when I felt the sting of what had to be stitches in a nasty gash. I would spend the next 5 years of my life with a variety of diverse haircuts that attempted to hide the ugly scar that served as a reminder of the worst night of my life. Even now it is still extremely obvious, but I can’t be bothered to try and hide it, I so rarely look in the mirror that it wouldn’t matter if my skin turned blue.

My dad hadn’t looked up, so I attempted to gain his attention but once again found my voice failing me. I tapped on the bed a few times before he seemed to realize and face me.

“Nia… how are you feeling?” His voice was raspy and thin. He reeked of cigarettes and stale coffee, though this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. I remained silent as he looked at me, searching my face for something I'm not sure he found.

“Nia, I, I'm not sure how to say this to you.” Here it comes. Almost worse than watching my brother die, the confirmation. “Ray, he’s, well dead.” I saw my father’s eyes begin to tear up again as I stared straight ahead. I couldn’t feel the sobs that racked my body, nor the hot tears streaming from my eyes. I saw my dad start to move closer but sit back down when I flinched. Of course, I knew my brother was dead; I had front row seats to watching the event happen, but somehow I still didn’t believe it until the words left my father’s mouth. According to my dad, who many years later described to me how eery the whole event was, my sobs were completely silent, and I was entirely unaware of everything happening around me. This dissociation lasted the first few days after the accident, and the entirety of my hospital stay. Leaving the blissful gap in my memory I have now.

Barb told me this was my mind’s way of coping with the tragedy and stress of what happened. I was honestly just happy I had an excuse to skip some of the dreadful retelling she forced upon me.

❈

The funeral was of course a depressing and solemn event. I was still yet to speak and found myself thankful for the way people gave up on trying to get me to communicate. I dressed in a black skirt with a black short sleeved button up. A dark coat thrown around my shoulders as the cast on my right hand was too big to fit through the sleeve. I looked terrible, barely a week out of hospital before I watched Ray sink into the ground. The wound on my forehead was still quite nasty, though it looked better than it did before. I tried to cover it up with my hair but was unsuccessful. I got bangs soon after.

The matter was very traditional, taking place in a church even though none of our family was really religious. It was only the second time I'd ever been in a church, the first having been for my cousin Julie’s wedding when I was four years old. I don’t remember anything of it aside from the material of my dress itching at my neck and making me rather miserable. Of course, not nearly as miserable as I was the day of the funeral, sitting in a pew at the front of the church, listening to a priest claiming Ray would’ve wanted us to celebrate his life. I knew this not to be true; Ray was extremely dramatic and would’ve cherished the thought of everyone he’d ever spoken to moping around for weeks after his death, beside themselves with grief. He sometimes referred to himself as “Romeo” after having been broken up with by another girl he was supposedly in love with, stating he better just stab himself in the heart now if he couldn’t have her. On the rare occasion he broke up with a girlfriend, he’d lounge around, eating ice cream, pretending to not be upset and comparing his cold heart to that of Richard VIII. The concept of him being any different over his death was almost comical; Ray was nothing if not predictable.

I sat beside my father, who sat beside my mother (it was an extremely awkward arrangement that neither I nor my father cared for) and seemed to have the idea that I could evaporate if I thought hard enough about it. Unfortunately, I did not evaporate, or even come close to it, instead finding myself exactly where I'd been the whole time. I mostly tuned out the service, only really paying attention when my father and Ray’s best friend, Jake spoke. I managed to escape the duty of having to speak that day thanks to my fragile mental state and mutism. Though I'm sure I would’ve been forced all the same if I had been able to talk in any capacity, regardless of where my head was at.

Faun was sitting in the pew behind me, feeling quite guilty about the whole ordeal. Or friendship dissolved soon after, I think she blamed herself for taking me to the party. It didn’t bother me too much though; we were never the closest and I sometimes thought her to be extremely annoying. An endless stream of shitty boyfriends that she only acquired so she could further repress her sexuality. When we were 14 we kissed at a sleepover and she admitted she was in love with me. I felt bad for not returning the feeling and our relationship had been on rocky territory ever since. I don’t understand how she thought she was in love with me since she barely knew anything about me, but either way she never brought it up again and soon after the monsoon of boytoys had begun.

My brother’s friends and ex-girlfriends also attended the event. I didn’t approach any of them, far too scared they’d blame me for the death of their friend. One of them, Alex, went up to me to say how sorry he was about everything that happened. He was crying quite heavily (I later found out he was the friend Ray had been drinking with and the second last person to see him alive) and I could smell alcohol on his breath. I stood there while he spoke, telling me about how great my brother was as if I was wholly unaware. Body waving side to side as he stood with his hand on the wall beside me. He offered me some bronze liquid in a flask, and I obliged, savouring the burning sensation that followed in my throat. Alex’s voice was steady and deep, reminding me of my father’s. I’m not sure how long we stood there, him spinning a fantastic web of anecdotes and stories about my brother, some entirely new to my ears. We passed the beverage back and fourth until it was empty. My head felt lighter and heavier somehow simultaneously, and I found it much easier to listen to Alex talk. Later he tried to kiss me in my bedroom during the wake. His mouth was sour, and his tongue seemed too big for his mouth. I wondered how he was able to talk so much without it getting in the way.

We moved in procession to the cemetery after the service. The grass was a vibrant green colour, and I didn’t understand how the world kept turning after Ray’s death, for mine stopped the moment his heart failed to beat. The sky was a lovely shade of cyan-blue, with clouds so perfect they seemed animated. Pink carnations were planted near the outskirts of the yard and I could smell spring in the air; a heavy, floral aroma that never failed to comfort me. I thought it should be raining, it felt inappropriate that the weather refused to match my despair. My mind wandered as we approached the empty grave and I considered what it would be like if Ray was here beside me. He’d probably be making jokes, telling me to lighten up for a minute or my face would get stuck that way. He’d mock my silence, saying how I never managed to shut up for a minute before but suddenly I'm as proper as a nun. I'd smile, ruffling his hair to piss him off and try to refrain from laughing aloud. The absence of him only felt stronger as I imagined this scenario, so I shoved it out of my head.

The casket was lowered into the ground, my father was a pallbearer and I often think about how he must’ve felt carrying his son’s body before watching him being buried. My mother sobbed loudly which annoyed me, it felt a bit exaggerated. I had a few tears falling from my eyes but mostly, I just felt numb. Incredibly and absolutely empty inside. To onlookers it may have seemed as though we weren’t very close, my reaction being similar to that of his ex-girlfriends’. However, this didn’t account for the loss of my voice, or the broken state I was in mentally. Maybe it was better that my reaction was rather dulled. It meant people didn’t feel the need to approach me as they did my mother. Less concerned given she was the one playing up her emotions to the point of embarrassment. My father cried, more than I but far less than my mother. He didn’t cry very often – I'd actually only seen it once prior to the whole event – and I figured he probably needed it. At this point I felt as though I'd shed enough tears to last a lifetime so Ray wouldn’t mind if I was a bit subdued in comparison. He never was a crier anyways.

As I sprinkled soil onto his casket I imagined he was right beside me, watching, ready to criticize as usual. The dirt stained my hand, clutching the sweat and turning my skin a muddy brown colour. As I wiped the dirt on my jacket I could hear him nagging about how I better go wash my hands, what was I, a six-year-old? He was in denial about me growing up and took every chance to remind me I was still just a kid. Not that he had much on me, but I enjoyed it. I never was one to shy away from attention; at least not before. Little quirks and inside jokes between us were always some of my favourite things, the type of humour you could only get from living with someone your whole life. No matter how much his memory will fade there are some things I can’t let myself forget. His mocking tone when he’d make fun of me is one of those things. If I ever managed to let go of that sound then I must be dead as well.

The sun beat down on my back, my skin burning in my black clothes. I wasn’t sweating yet, but most of the men around were – suit jackets aren’t exactly known for their breathability. My nose was dry and aching red, sore from how much I'd been wiping it the last couple days. Still the sweet seeping tinge of flowers and spring managed to crawl into my nose, settling underneath my skin, the buzzing from before had returned, I could feel my heartbeat loudly in my throat and had the desperate urge to just run. Instead, I just followed the rest of the party, sitting down in the passenger seat of my dad’s car. The silence that settled over us was uncomfortable and stale. He turned on the radio, Led Zeppelin filled the air around us, thankfully relieving some of the tension. I felt in my left pocket for one of the carnations I’d picked from a nearby grave earlier. The flower had begun to wilt, heat taking effect on its delicate composition. When I got home I put it in between the pages of my oldest copy of Romeo and Juliet. Ray would have found it funny if he was around to see.

The drive to my mother’s house was short and minimally awkward. We sat in silence – aside from the music – only because there was no alternative. My hand remained clutched around the dying flower in my pocket as we left the car and entered the home. Other people had already arrived, clustered in the living room, picking at tiny ham sandwiches and various desserts my mother had undoubtedly stress-baked the day before. I wasn’t hungry so I sat as far away from the food and people as humanely possible while staying in the living room, not wishing to hear my mother’s scolding about how I need to socialize more. Eventually I managed to slip away into my old bedroom, where Alex was sitting on my bed drinking a mickey of Smirnoff I assumed he swiped from my mother’s freezer. He offered it to me, and I accepted, the weird repetitive déjà vu like act, mirroring earlier and making the whole day feel like somewhat of a dream.

When I went over this part with Barb she always felt the need to emphasize that it wasn’t a dream. I knew this, obviously, which I told her every time, but she was inclined to disbelief when it came to my denial over my brother’s death. “Begonia, you must realize he’s gone. Dwelling is helping nobody, especially not you. This isn’t a healthy mindset for you to have. Always comparing living to your dreams. I want you to tell me you understand this isn’t just some dream you can wake up from.” The first time she said that to me I was thrust into a bout of wordlessness, as it struck a bit too close to home. The next time she brought it up I just told her of course, though even now I still cannot say I fully understand. How can I when all of my assumptions have been constantly disproven time and time again. How can I ever say this isn’t a dream when I'm not even sure I'm real? James always tries to reassure me, “Bee, I'm telling you, if you can feel this beat, the pulse in your wrist, your neck, your chest, you are alive,” he’ll say while pressing my hand to my wrist, but we both know it isn’t that simple.

Me and Alex made out for a few minutes until I managed to excuse myself. He was a bad kisser and tasted disgusting. I left him sitting on my old bed while I went downstairs to find my dad. He was sitting at the counter with a can of root beer, blank expression sat upon his face. When his eyes met mine he sighed, grabbing his keys out of his pocket. It was obvious neither of us wanted to be here, for numerous reasons, so we left. And if the radio stayed off as we drove home we didn’t acknowledge the silence that time. In my hand was the crumpled carnation, and for some reason it made my chest hurt. A deep ache of dread. I could feel my heartbeat, hear it over the drum of the car engine, and I crushed the flower further. I was careful not to rip it though, as if that was crossing some kind of invisible line my mind had set for me. My fingers felt waxy when I finally let go.

Back home, I opened the copy of Romeo and Juliet. I retrieved the deteriorating plant from my pocket and placed it in the center. Closing the book, I stacked it under a few dictionaries, a magazine under it so it was trapped on either side. I sat down in front of it and cried. Not the huge gasping sobs my mother seemed to fancy, nor the quiet weeping of my father. No, I cried the tears of a child who just found out their grandparents died, the soft uncomprehending grief that overcame them as they first learned what death really meant. How long forever was. My legs pulled up to my chest, hands loosely hung around knees, unable to clasp together because of my cast. I closed my eyes and I swear I could hear the sound of Ray sighing behind me, but when I opened my eyes I was alone. I went to bed, earlier than I ever had in my life, still believing it was a dream and I'd wake up like Alice after her adventures in Wonderland. But when I awoke, I was met with the slow, oozing perdure of my reality. The one which I could not wake up from, and the one where my brother was dead.

#my writing #writing #original writing #original content #original fiction #creative writing #dark academia #tw death #tw drugs #tw mentions of sex #tw swearing #tw mental illness #tw medication #alo writes

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theunvanquishedzims · 4 years ago

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Disney, a Little to the Left pt.1

The Hunchback of Notre Dame

The Archdeacon thought he had inspired a true come-to-God moment in the Judge, but the man’s fear lasted only long enough to hear the consequences of his actions. “Saddled with this misshapen creature” was a telling enough reaction. Immediately abandoning the child to the church’s custody could be the act of a busy old man with no childcare experience, but demanding the infant be locked away where no one else could see it was not the action of a man truly intending to raise a child. The way he called it a foul creature and said it may someday be of use to him was the final nail in the coffin of the Archdeacon’s trust.

The cruel name he tried to give the boy rang in the Archdeacon’s ears as he carried the infant inside, louder than any bell. He snorted to himself. “The bell tower indeed,” he muttered. A good place to drown out the cries of an unwanted child, not a soothing place to help a newborn sleep. The boy would be deaf in a month if he lived there.

“I tried,” he sighed as he lit a candle for the soul of the mother, her body still cooling on the front steps. He would need to rouse the gravedigger. “Jesus, Mary and all the saints as my witnesses, I tried to help him atone.” So saying, he prayed a quiet curse upon the Judge, and a plea for forgiveness for his own actions that night. Following the gravedigger to the cemetery, he prayed as many blessings as he could think of over the child. The church at least would guarantee him a pious life full of light and music, scriptures and psalms surrounding him every day of his life...but not safety. The Judge was a murderer, and appealing to his piety had failed. It was naive of him to try, but one must be a little naive to have faith, the Archdeacon mused as he left the gravedigger to his work. He would return to preside over her rites, but for now...

“At least you will have some miracles in your life, little one,” he whispered as he pressed in a stone on the mausoleum and descended the stairs into the crypts. It wasn’t long before he was accosted by the gypsies, but his garb afforded him certain protections. “One of yours,” he said, holding out the quietly snuffling bundle. “The mother is upstairs, soon to be downstairs.” He tried to smile as he tacked on “And soon after, hopefully, further upstairs.”

The masked man chuckled, causing the others surrounding the pair to laugh as well. A little gallows humor was always well received in the catacombs, and in such grim times even a priest’s poor attempt at a joke was cause for mirth. He prayed another silent prayer of forgiveness for the mother’s soul, as though he could deliver her to the gates of Heaven by will alone. Dying to protect her child was surely enough blood to cover even the most egregious of sins. The Virgin Mother would understand, he believed. A strange gulping noise drew him back to the moment.

The jester’s face below the mask was stretched out in a rictus of a grin, frozen for just a moment as he gazed into the bundle. The Archdeacon stopped himself from snatching the child away from the uncertain reception, and for the second time that night, trusted.

“Ah yes, I recognize him immediately!” the jester burst out, and the Archdeacon relaxed. There was some good in humanity after all. “Why this is my nephew...!” The Archdeacon shrugged at the split-second glance. He would not repeat the insult the Judge tried to saddle the boy with. “...Ruskin! Who could forget him, with such lovely red hair!”

“He doesn’t look like any of your nephews,” said a skinny boy with straight black hair, clad in an outfit to match the jester’s, peering around his father’s side to frown at the infant.

“Fool!” shrieked a puppet that manifested above his head, bringing down a small wooden mallet upon said head. “He is obviously the son of our great-aunt’s father’s third cousin’s best friend’s brother’s niece-in-law!” “Be nice to your cousin,” added the jester in his normal voice as the boy whimpered and rubbed his head, handing the bundle down and shooing the children away into the darkness.

The Archdeacon could pass no further than this, he knew. The tentative peace between the gypsies and the church only stretched so far. Still, he watched until the child’s shadow melted away in the flickering light of the torches, knowing this could well be the last time he saw the boy. The jester coughed and raised an eyebrow at him, and the Archdeacon flushed. So many sins to atone for tonight, he thought guiltily as he pulled a candelabra from under his cloak. There were muted exclamations from the men around him as the gold glinted in the firelight. The jester’s eyes sharpened, gaze going calculating and wary, but face still smiling.

“To cover the cost of his upbringing,” the archdeacon said, heading off any questions and doing his best to anticipate potential arguments. This was the most dangerous thing he had ever done, and he felt it in his bones. One wrong step and his skeleton would join the piles around them. “The donor recently passed away, it will not be missed,” he said carefully, feeling for the right words and trying to instill them with authority. “I give it freely, under my authority as archdeacon, to match your generosity in caring for the poor orphan left on our doorstep.”

“Whyever would I need such a gift, for caring for my dear darling nephew, my own flesh and blood?” the jester chirped back at him. The archdeacon steadied his breath and willed his outstretched hand equally steady, feeling the strain, both the weight of the candle holder and the gazes of the thieves surrounding him. He had not been cut down yet, he reminded himself, and that was as good as invitation. He chose his words with even greater care.

“Flesh and blood needs food and drink to sustain it, and the boy may not be able to earn his keep.” The outside as twisted as it is, there is no telling what ailments lay inside. “And being born in such a cold season, it may prove...unhealthy for the child to be upstairs.” It’s not safe for him in Paris proper. “Such a pale child needs sunlight to blossom, though. You may find, when he gets older, that he requires a warmer climate to survive.” Living in the catacombs forever is not an option for a growing boy, but better to pack him into a southbound caravan than risk sending him out to be discovered by the Judge.

The jester pinned him with another long stare, but then the weight in his hand was gone and the candelabra was a glinting, golden spiral as the jester twirled it, cackling madly. The tension in the air was also gone in a rush, laughter and whoops filling the silence. At least two sharp points were suddenly absent from his back, the Archdeacon realized belatedly. He hadn’t even noticed they were there. Hopefully he would not have spots of blood on his clothes to account for later.

“Such a generous gift, but alas, we have no use for candleholders, being torch people ourselves,” the jester said with a grand wave of his arm and a wink. You’ll never see this again, it will be broken and melted by the end of the night. The Archdeacon could read between the lines too. He nodded his head, relief almost turning the dip into a half-bow, and tried not to gasp as the torches all went out at once.

Not even the sound of splashed could be heard and the gypsies abandoned him in the dark, and he was left to grope his way back to the stairs by touch alone. Unpleasant enough in a stone church, but surrounded by the dead, with not even a whisper of moonlight to guide him, it was the stuff of nightmares. He mentally subtracted ten Hail Marys from his running total for the night. Twelve, he thought with a shudder as his fingers caught in an eye socket, feet stumbling upon the stone steps that lead him back up to the safety of the graveyard.

How could anyone call it dark or frightening, he wondered as he climbed out of the grave and scurried a little faster than dignified back to where he left the gravedigger. It was positively bright with silver moonlight and friendly with familiar headstones, the layer of snow casting a heavenly white blanket over the scene. He reached the side of the gravedigger, who quirked a look at him but otherwise kept his mouth shut. An admirable trait in any man, the Archdeacon thought gratefully as he launched into the most heartfelt rites he’d given that year, prayers and blessings pouring over the woman’s shroud as they lowered her to her final rest, the Archdeacon a bit more carefully than the gravedigger.

“-forever and ever, amen. I’ll have a warm meal for you when you’re finished,” he promised the gravedigger. The man merely grunted and picked up his shovel, cold soil cascading back into the hole as he returned to work. The Archdeacon returned to his own work, numb feet carrying him back to the church. First wash the blood from the steps, lest it offend the eyes of the Holy. Then the meal, and perhaps a hot drink for both of them. And then...penance. For this night, and the day that would surely come, when the Judge returned to see his creature. Alas, the poor blighted thing did not survive, its ailments too great, only the love of its mother sustaining it outside the womb for so long. The lie was already fixed firmly in the Archdeacon’s mind, and though he hoped it would bring the Judge even a shred of guilt, he knew in his heart that it would not.

The Archdeacon would waste no more prayers on the man after this night. Judge Claude Frollo was bound for Hell.

#writing #fic rec #disney #the hunchback of notre dame #AUs are still my favorite thing #this is going to be a series #not necessarily happy endings #just how things might have gone differently #a little to the left #I know practically nothing about Catholicism #feel free to correct me on any major mistakes

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undermounts · 5 years ago

Text

Bound—Chapter 12: Onward

AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: A long journey lies ahead.

Pairing: Gaius Augustine/Diana Leigh (BB MC)

Somewhere, 2042

Gaius was alive and whole—she had seen to it by checking his vitals three times over—and yet, Diana couldn’t bring herself to let him go.

She fussed over him, still sniffling hard and remembering how painful it had been to almost lose him, how terrified she was. Back in Copenhagen, with that last flick of her wrist, Serafine had trapped Gaius—perhaps unintentionally—his worst nightmare. But she hadn’t just trapped his mind, she had trapped his very essence, which meant if something happened to him in his dream…

Diana wanted to start sobbing all over again whenever she thought of it. She knew she was being irrational, fretting over him like this, but it was the only thing that put her mind at east, reaffirming that he was alive, that their bond was not broken.

And Gaius, who was shocked to say the least at her visceral, but admittedly touching reaction, let her. Until he noticed the bolt still protruding from her knee, the wound bleeding all over the hay.

“God, Diana, your leg,” he gasped, leaning away from her touch so he could drag himself into a sitting position. His hands fluttered over the wound and he glanced up at her. “Will you stop being a… mother hen, as you said before, and let me get it out?”

Diana glanced down at her knee, blanching as if she had just remembered the injury she had taken.

Now that her anger and adrenaline had faded and both using the Mercurian Compass and diving into Gaius’s mind had somehow left her drained, she knew this was going to hurt. She leaned back and nodded, forcing her breathing to slow.

Gaius shifted, gently setting her leg across his lap. He carefully gripped the bolt just above its sharp point; the fletching had snapped off after their jump from Copenhagen to… wherever this was. His eyes flicked up to hers. “This is going to hurt.”

Obviously, she thought, along with, Can’t be worse than going in.

Diana grit her teeth. “Do it.”

Gaius nodded and swiftly yanked the bolt out in one smooth pull. Diana swore, body tensing as blood gushed out—then stopped, the wound already knitting itself closed. Slowly, the pain ebbed away and Diana loosed a sigh of relief. Her fingertips found the Compass, crusted in her blood, and still hanging around her neck. Its power signature was faint, evidently drained for the time being. She glanced around, taking in the barn they had landed in.

They had been… transported here. Minutes ago, they were in Copenhagen, and now? Diana wasn’t even sure they were even in Denmark anymore. Diana dragged herself to her feet, spotting a thin stream of light that poured through the giant barn doors. She cracked the door open, peering out.

Green pastures were stretched out before her, several animals lazily grazing beneath the bright sun. A small house sat on a hill about a mile away and snow-capped mountains towered in the distance. A chilly wind swept through the barn door, invigorating and taxing all at once as she wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. Diana was about to explore and attempt to get a sense of their surroundings when the floor tilted beneath her and she stumbled.

“Easy, diviana.” Gaius reached out, grabbing her shoulders to steady her as she sunk to her knees, hay crunching beneath them. His eyes drifted to the amulet and they narrowed as if he could sense how it had drained her. Then he glanced outside, pursing his lips. “We’re going to have to wait until nightfall to go anywhere anyway, and you should rest.”

Diana wanted to protest, but even her legs felt shaky beneath her. They searched the barn for a place to hide until dark, occasionally shooing away any curious hens that nipped at their ankles. Diana found a ladder, nearly hidden behind boxes of feed that led up to a hay covered loft that appeared to be used for storage.

“Well, this isn’t as nice as the hotel I had,” Diana sighed as Gaius climbed up after her and surveyed the space. He huffed in agreement, then set about peering into the crates and sifting through the contents. The best he could scavenge was a thick wool blanket that he spread over the hay to create a place to comfortably lay, although “comfortable” was a generous description.

Diana gingerly sat down, pulling her knees to her chest as she flicked a piece of straw off of the corner of the blanket. She wrinkled her nose and rubbed her arms for warmth. “I’m pretty sure this is a horse blanket.”

“Gotten used to Manhattan luxury?” Gaius lifted a brow, pinching the fabric between his fingertips before shrugging and lounging on his back beside her. “You’ve slept on worse.”

“Yes, but I am paying for better. Back in Copenhagen,” Diana grumbled, as she picked at a loose thread on her shirt. Her attention strayed to the Mercurian Compass and she cupped it in her palm, scrubbing away some of her dried blood.

“So that thing really transported us here,” Gaius noted, propping himself up on his elbow as he studied the amulet over her shoulder.

Diana slowly nodded, chewing her lip. She gazed down at her palm, healed but still crusted in blood from when Serafine had cut it. “Yeah. When Serafine reached for it, I covered it with my hand and…” She bit the inside of her cheek. “I’ve touched it before, but it’s never reacted like that. I think it needed a blood connection.”

“To you specifically, or anyone?”

“Anyone, I think.” Diana dropped the amulet back beneath her shirt. “When it spoke it me, it didn’t sound like it knew me or anything like that, so I imagine anyone could use it—”

“It spoke to you?” Gaius’s voice was incredulous behind her.

“Yeah. It was… bizarre. Like a… chorus of voices.” She shivered, but not from the cold this time as she remembered the amulet’s ancient whisper. “It asked me where I wanted to go, but it wasn’t giving me enough time to choose. Its power was already pulling me away, so I just told it to take me somewhere safe.”

Gaius made a thoughtful sound. “Most enchantments are incredibly specific. When you let magic make its own evaluation, things could end poorly. But it looks like we got lucky.”

“Yeah…” Diana echoed, glancing around the loft. Motes of dust lazily floated in the air, circulating on a draft that entered through the gaps in the wooden walls. Diana craned her neck to glance over her shoulder at Gaius, who was half reclined on his elbow, idly tracing shapes on the blanket. “How are you feeling?”

His gaze met hers, eyebrows lifting. He reached out, pinching the fabric of her sleeve and tugging until she lay down beside him. “I’m alright,” he replied, fingertips barely brushing her cheek as he swept a lock of her hair away from her face. His lips curved. “You saw to that. Thank you. For stopping me.”

Diana swallowed, glancing down to his shoulder, unable to meet his eyes. She swallowed hard. “That was awful. The bond—I…”

She felt his gaze on her as he waited patiently for her to find the words. His fingers traveled from her hair, skimming down the length of her arm, and she closed her eyes, suppressing a shiver.

“Gaius, I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared for someone else in my entire life. When I saw you collapse on the ground in front of Serafine…” She shook her head. “I didn’t know what to do. I don’t know what I would have done if we hadn’t left Serafine behind,” Diana breathed, her admission hanging in the air between them.

Gaius’s hand stilled on her arm, then after a long moment, resumed its path, trailing along her knuckles. “It was probably the bond. It confused my well-being with yours so you were especially driven to protect me.”

Diana nodded, but she knew that wasn’t the case. Not for her.

“I’ll be on my guard more,” Gaius said, more to himself than her. “Reinforce my mental shields so something like that doesn’t happen again.”

Diana didn’t respond, content to lay there quietly, drawing on the comforting warmth of the body beside her as she watched Gaius’s finger lazily trace shapes on the back of her hand.

“Tell me something,” he murmured.

Diana’s brows drew together. “Like what?”

“Anything,” he replied, breath ghosting over her forehead and stirring fine wisps of her dark hair. “Something good.”

Diana thought for a moment, automatically sifting through her archive of memories when Gaius shook his head. “I just want you to tell me about it, Diana. Talk to me.”

He did not know what that did to her, the way her stomach flipped in response.

“Anything,” he whispered, and Diana could have sworn there was a plea in his voice.

“When I was younger,” she began, not really thinking, just sharing the first thing that came to mind. “I wanted my parents to have another baby. I begged them, every day. I mostly wanted a little sister so I could dress her up and we could be princesses together. But I told my parents I would settle for a baby boy, even if little brothers were gross and annoying. Because above all, I just didn’t want to be alone.”

Diana felt Gaius’s gaze burning on her skin as she watched his chest rise and fall, breaths steady and even.

“I know now why my parents never had another kid,” she went on, turning her hand over so Gaius’s finger skimmed along the inside of her palm instead, tracing the lines and curves. “My mom didn’t think she could handle another child considering how painful her visions were. She already thought she wasn’t being a good enough mother to me, and her headaches only got worse as I got older. It must have been hard on my dad. I know he always wanted more. But he loved us so much that we were enough.”

“Did you get used to it, then?” Gaius asked quietly. “Being alone?”

Diana considered that for a moment, folding her other arm beneath her head for a cushion. “Used to it, yes. But I never enjoyed it. So whenever I made friends…” She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I did my best to keep them.”

Gaius hummed thoughtfully. “That would explain your unrivaled tenacity.”

He was teasing her, but there was a hint of fondness in his tone.

She smiled slightly. “Yes, well, I’m fortunate to have found people who want to stay.”

“You miss them,” Gaius stated, his finger trailing from her palm to the inside of her wrist, hovering over her pulse. “Everyone back in New York.”

“It’s not so bad,” Diana replied and as she said it, she realized it was true. “I thought it would be worse, being out here all alone. But…” She shrugged, trailing off.

“But what?” he breathed.

Diana drew her gaze up, biting the inside of her cheek. “But I’m not alone.”

Gaius’s brows drew together, and for a moment, the expression that crossed his face looked pained. “Diana…”

“I know things between us don’t always make sense,” Diana whispered, her voice wavering slightly. “And you’re still punishing yourself for what you’ve done. But you’re my friend, Gaius. Truly. I don’t know if I could have handled the last few weeks had you not been with me.”

Now he truly looked wounded, lips pulled into a frown and eyes pleading, as if he were begging her to stop. “Diana, I don’t deserve that. You know this.”

She turned her hand over, sliding her fingers along his palm to grip his forearm. She felt his pulse echo against hers. “That’s not how friendship works. Not with me. It’s not earned, it’s given. You don’t have to accept it, Gaius, but I—”

“I do,” he choked out, fingers tightening around her forearm, and Diana felt a wave of emotion roll over her, so intense and muddled she couldn’t tell her feelings apart from hers. “There is nothing you could give me, Diana, that I would not accept.”

She wasn’t sure she was breathing properly, her chest so full it might explode.

Diana stared at him for several long, weighted seconds. Then, slowly, so as not to startle him—or even herself—she inched towards him, releasing his hand to set hers against his sternum. His chest barely moved beneath her palm as she wedged herself beneath her arm and nestled her head against his shoulder.

“Is this okay?” she questioned, noticing the way his body was still tense against hers. Maybe she had overstepped, misread the situation. Perhaps when he had said there was nothing he would not accept, he meant intangible things, like opportunity and companionship, not… this.

But then, just as cautiously as she had come to him, his arm curved along her spine, fingers splaying out across her ribcage. His other arm was draped across his stomach and Diana felt her nerves jump as he tilted his head, jaw pressing against the crown of her head.

This was… a lot at once. It felt like she had arrived at a precipice and was teetering over the edge. It was both thrilling and terrifying in ways she had yet to comprehend. Diana found herself wondering, not for the first time, why everything had to be so complicated with him.

The dizzying speed at which her thoughts whirled around her head combined with her hyper awareness of all the places they touched was too much and Diana stepped back from the edge, reigning herself in before she spun out of control. “This is only because it’s cold and sleeping in a barn is uncomfortable.”

That was a lie. That was such a horrible, damn lie. It tasted vile on her tongue, but it was safer than the truth, which was that she wanted to be close to him. More than anything. She tried to quiet the thoughts that insisted this still wasn’t close enough.

She couldn’t explain why. This wasn’t a thing normal people who were on the verge of friendship did. But then again, they weren’t normal people—not even in the slightest. Normal people weren’t bonded the way they were. Perhaps that was why her blood sang when she fit her body against his, as if even her bones knew they were fated to rest next to his.

But she couldn’t explain that to him. Her confusing feelings were the last thing he needed to worry about, especially when he was still trying to dig himself out of a hole carved by three thousand years of sin. No, the lie was better. Even if it made her feel dirty inside.

Gaius’s breath halted, just for a fraction of a second, and Diana wondered if he sensed falsehood of her words too.

“Mhm,” he simply said, the sound reverberating through his chest and into her fingertips. After a moment, he sighed, his thumb absently brushing over one of her ribs. “We should probably get some sleep, diviana. We might be in the middle of nowhere for all we know and will probably have a long night of walking ahead of us.”

No sooner had he said that, Diana yawned, nodding against him. As she closed her eyes, feeling herself warm with their combined body heat, she asked, “What does that mean? You said it once before. Diviana.”

Gaius was silent for a beat. When he spoke, Diana could hear the fatigue in his voice as he murmured, “Just a derivation of your name.”

“What does it mean?”

When he didn’t respond, she craned her neck up to see his face, but he was already fast asleep. Diana rolled her eyes but settled against him. It wasn’t long before sleep claimed her too.

The barn door swung shut, drawing Diana’s attention from where crouched on the ground rifling through the one duffle bag she managed to grab before the Compass transported them out of Copenhagen. She looked up as Gaius walked it, wiping his hand on the back of his mouth.

“Satisfied?” she asked, piling her clothes back into the bag atop the amphora.

Gaius nodded, sifting a hand through his hair. His face was flushed, color high in his cheekbones from feeding, a healthier hue than the gray pallor it had been earlier this evening. He stood behind her, peering over her shoulder at their meager supplies. All they had was the baseball bag containing their swords, Diana’s backpack which contained a refillable water bottle, a few granola bars, and the wool blanket, and her duffle bag, which was essentially useless for their trek back to civilization but also the only thing the amphora would fit inside.

“It’s not much, but we’ve dealt with less before,” Gaius sighed, slinging the sword bag across his back and hefting the duffle onto his shoulder, leaving Diana with her backpack. “Any idea where we are?”

Diana shook her head, holding up her phone. “My phone died after the Compass jumped us here, so I can’t get a pin on our location. The amulet probably drained its energy when it fed on mine,” she sighed, tossing it into her backpack. “This is going to be a fun story to tell Jax once I get it charged. After he finishes yelling at me.”

Gaius let out an amused huff. “It’s just because he cares. And he knows how reckless you are.”

Diana shot him a look that was both offended and disturbed. She shouldered her pack and stood, scrunching her nose in distaste. “Don’t… do that.”

“Do what?” They slipped out of the barn, firmly closing the door behind them as they made for the dirt path that led to an old country road.

“Sympathize with Jax,” she grimaced, batting away a horsefly that buzzed by her ear. “You’re right, but it’s… unsettling. You two don’t like each other.”

“I don’t… dislike him,” Gaius grumbled, swords clanging together as they came to a stop at the edge of the road. They looked up and down the road, neither direction showing any indication that civilization lay beyond.

“You don’t like him either.” Diana retorted studying the road. “Should we just… pick a direction and stick with it?”

Gaius shrugged wordlessly and Diana scowled. Seeing her expression, he scowled back. “What?”

“You’ve been alive for three thousand years. All of that life experience and you don’t have any advice on what to do?” She put her hands on her hips, gaze unwavering. This—arguing with him—she could do with ease. It didn’t warm her blood or make her chest feel tight. The lines were clear, and they would have to hold.

“This might come as a surprise to you,” Gaius snapped, rolling his eyes. “But I don’t make a habit of getting lost in the middle of nowhere.” He glanced around at the countryside, huffing. “I’ve seen a thousand mountains and pastures. After a while, they all start to look the same. So, no. I don’t have any sparkling advice for you. Just pick a direction, Diana, and follow it.”

Grumbling to herself, Diana re-evaluated the road. To the left, the road curved, not offering much aside first glance aside from the mountains in the distance. To the right, there were more rolling plains and a whole lot of nothing. She sighed and turned left, taking the mountain pass.

After hours of walking in bored silence, Diana was starting to wonder if maybe they should have gone in the other direction when they came to a fork in the road. A small signpost marked the divide, pointing down one of the roads. In white scripted letters, it read:

Zermatt

64 KM

Gaius huffed. “Zermatt. So we’re in Switzerland.”

Diana felt her face settle into a glower, unable to even marvel at the fact that she was in Switzerland for the first time because she kept glaring at the numbers on the sign. “How many miles is 62 kilometers?”

When she glanced over at him, he looked equally unhappy, his jaw clenched, eyes unamused. “Around 38 miles.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Diana groaned, squeezing her eyes shut and pinching the bridge of her nose. “38 miles to the nearest town?”

“Evidently.”

“We won’t make it tonight, even if we run.” Diana peered up at the moon, which had already reached its apex in the sky. “There’s about six hours left before dawn. We’ll have to make camp somewhere and finish the rest of it tomorrow night. Maybe we should try using the Compass.” She ran her finger along the amulet, but its presence was weak.

“And end up in the middle of nowhere again?” Gaius raised a brow, his eyes narrowed. “I think not. Besides, if it drains you as much as it did last time—”

“Fine. I get it,” Diana cut in, throwing her hands up in frustration and starting off down the road in the direction of Zermatt. “Onward, then.”

Diana didn’t look, but she knew he was smirking at her.

After a few minutes had passed, Gaius spoke up. “Tell me something.”

Diana looked at him sidelong, adjusting the straps of her backpack. “Why?”

He tilted his head, gaze flat. “Would you prefer to continue in silence for another six hours?”

Diana wanted to snap back, but she loosed a long breath and shook her head. “What do you want to know about?”

“Anything.”

“That’s not very specific.” She pushed her hands through her hair, fingers getting caught in knots. She drew out a piece of hay and frowned, imagining—not for the first time—how nice it would be to shower again. “There’s a lot of things I could talk about. Boring things. Random things.”

“I don’t mind,” Gaius replied. When Diana glanced at him, she found that he wasn’t looking at her or even the road ahead, but the sky. Diana had been so focused on the road, she hadn’t even noticed how many stars were out, or even how gorgeous the scenery around them was. The dirt road overlooked a valley, bordered on both sides by majestic mountains, their peaks coated in snow. A river wound through the basin floor, a sparkling ribbon of moonlight amidst towering trees. Diana took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the scent of ice and pine.

Well, she conceded. As far as 40-mile hikes go, we could certainly be in worse places.

Diana clicked her tongue as she thought. Why was it that whenever someone wanted to pick her brain, she never had anything interesting to say? Well, he did say ‘anything.’

“I love peaches,” Diana shrugged, rubbing her arms for warmth. It wasn’t the most exciting fact, but she didn’t exactly feel like delving into her memories to spin some grand tale.

Gaius’s brows rose. “Peaches.”

Diana nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Back in my childhood home, my neighbors had this peach tree that partially hung over the wall into our backyard. They said whatever crossed the wall was ours to take. I used to spend my summers sitting alone by our pool, eating peaches and reading books.”

She smiled fondly and breathed deep, letting the cool air wash over her. “If I try hard enough, I can still feel its stickiness on my hands. Smell the chlorine in the air. Sometimes, the days were so hot, I would burn my feet on the concrete, so I would splash it with water. For some reason, I never thought to put on shoes.”

When Diana finally trailed off, she glanced over at Gaius and felt her lungs constrict upon realizing he was already looking at her. A small smile graced his lips, his head tilted at a curious angle.

Diana felt heat rush to her cheeks and she pursed her lips. “What is that look for?”

“Nothing.” Gaius shrugged, turning away to watch the road ahead of them. Diana caught the knowing glint in his eye as he said, “I just think I’ve started to figure you out, Diana Leigh.”

Diana blinked at him, her footsteps faltering. What did that mean? She hadn’t said anything particularly revealing, had she? They had spoken about far more important things than peaches.

Diana regained her stride, resisting the urge to sigh once again as she caught up with him. Perhaps Gaius thought he was beginning to understand her better, but Diana was getting the feeling that no matter how much she learned about him, she would never know enough.

She supposed she had an eternity to find out.

When the sky turned from black to gray and color slowly started to leech back into the world, they finally set up camp a little ways off the road and in the surrounding woods, using the wool blanket they had slept on the day before as a makeshift canopy to block out whatever rays of sun the surrounding foliage didn’t catch.

Diana spread out articles of her clothing across the forest floor to provide something to rest on, sparing only the sweatshirts they layered on for warmth in the cool climate. She no longer cared how soiled her clothes got; she would just have to buy new things to wear when they stocked up on the rest of the supplies they’d lost.

They huddled around Gaius’s blue fire as they rationed out the granola bars and drained half of her water bottle in an attempt to fill their empty stomachs, trading small facts about their favorite things as they did.

When it was time to settle down, Gaius extinguished his flame, leaving them exposed to the morning chill. Diana watched as he laid himself down on the bed of her clothing and chewed her lip, gathering her courage once again. She made her way over to the makeshift bed and felt some of her nerves ease as he looked up at her and held his arm open.

“For warmth,” he said, and Diana nodded.

The ground was not comfortable. Diana felt every rock and twig that pressed into her side through the layers of clothing. She shifted several times, grimacing as she tried to get settled. “When all of this is over,” she muttered, “I’m going to find the softest bed to ever exist, and sleep in it for days.”

Gaius loosed a soft laugh that stirred her hair. He didn’t seem bothered at all by their conditions. “This reminds me of the days before I ran into you in Aosta.”

Diana looked up at him. “You slept outside often?”

His brow furrowed. “I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t always have cash to pay for a hotel room and when I was travelling…” he shrugged. “It was easier. I had a tent and sleeping bag in my pack.”

Diana smirked. “Looks like I grabbed the wrong bag.”

Gaius’s lip curled as he settled back and closed his eyes.

Right then, Diana thought, resting her head against his shoulder and preparing to give into the ache in her bones when she caught a gleam of light from within the shadows of two shrubs.

She narrowed her eyes, casting out her senses as the leaves rustled, parting to reveal—

The Black Shuck.

Diana stiffened, momentarily thinking to reach for her sword, but she forced herself to still. The shadow hound merely peered at her from the edge of their makeshift camp, silver eyes luminous. As Diana stared back, she felt a connection form and sensed its intent to protect her once again. Diana followed its gaze to Gaius, who was not yet asleep but had not noticed their visitor. Swallowing, Diana met the Shuck’s eerie stare once more and slowly dipped her chin. Safe.

As if it had sensed her thoughts, the shadow hound retreated a step, then dissipated on a phantom wind.

Diana let out a long breath, equal parts relieved that she had averted the conflict and that the Black Shuck was alive and undeterred by their last encounter. For some reason, it still thought she was worth protecting. A weight Diana didn’t know she had lifted from her chest.

Perhaps she could still do things right after all.

Notes: Diviana means “the shining one.”

Tagging: @bachelorettebound14, @mkamra2355, @somin-yin, @bigmemesplz, @dorkylittleweirdo, @choicesplayer101, @xbobbatea, @mindlesschicca, @vesselsynths, @mikewawazoski

#gaius augustine #gaius x mc #my writing #choices #bloodbound #adrian raines #jax matsuo #kamilah sayeed #lily spencer #rheya apostolous #serafine dupont #fic

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