#and Light with his right hand man - REM in this case

[bazpango]

“On the night of my death,

your despair was so loud

that I could hear it

clawing through the earth to find me.

All the men screaming, begging,

still could not drown out the

wailing of your hands.”

—Caitlyn Siehl

[fluentmoviequoter]

Words to Die By

The Rookie x Criminal Minds Crossover

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!BAU!reader

Summary: Seven years after failing to become an LAPD officer, you return to Los Angeles as a literary analyst with the FBI's behavioral analysis unit to catch a serial killer.

Warnings: angst, violence, discussions of autopsies and forensic science, literary references, fluff and banter, improper use of a meat locker

Word Count: 13k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Rules

As the slick black SUV with US government plates parks outside the LAPD Mid-Wilshire station, you try not to reminisce. It would be too easy to remember how excited you were to walk in on your first day after the police academy, too easy to remember the devastation and heartbreak you felt walking through the same doors after surrendering your badge. You open the car door and focus on the current job, keeping your head down as you follow your team into the station that once felt like home. After finding an empty space out of the officers’ way to wait while your boss speaks to the watch commander and captain, you unlock your phone and scroll through the case details you reviewed on the flight, looking for anything you might have missed.

“Can I help you?”

You look up from your phone, the case detail email disappearing as you press the power button and smile at the LAPD officer standing before you.

“Sorry, I’m waiting for the rest of my team,” you explain before brandishing your badge.

“Oh, no worries. This is my first time working in a task force,” she replies. “It’s exciting.”

You nod and subconsciously tug on your sleeves. Officer Chen is obviously a rookie, and her enthusiasm is refreshing.

“Is this your first time in LA?” she asks.

“No, it isn’t.”

“Chen, Bradford wants to see you before roll call,” another officer calls.

“Is Bradford your training officer?” you ask.

“He is. Do you know him?”

You look around, then say, “Tim is on, what? His tenth plain clothes day washout?”

“Eleventh,” she answers, surprised.

“Nice to meet you, Officer Chen.” You offer your hand and say, “I’m number five.”

Chen’s jaw drops before she asks, “And now you’re FBI? How did that happen?”

“Long story… But I’m a literary analyst for the behavioral analysis unit, not exactly a field agent.”

A passing officer stops, then steps backward to look at you. “Are you on Hotchner’s team?”

“I am. I assume you remember him?”

“You know an FBI agent, Officer Lopez?” Chen asks.

“He was responsible for over 100 convictions of corrupt cops six or seven years ago. Five of them were LAPD, and one was our watch commander,” Lopez explains. “Chen, we need to get to roll call.”

You nod to Lucy, then return your attention to an email from Penelope.

“Your phone should be at least twelve inches from your face to limit blue light exposure,” Spencer says as he enters the station. “Sixteen to eighteen inches is preferable.”

“Spencer,” you reply, smiling as you turn toward him. “Penelope used what appears to be 6-point font and then zoomed out. I appreciate the concern for my eye health but take it up with her.”

Spencer frowns and murmurs, “Sounds like a job for Morgan.”

“What’s that, pretty boy?” Derek inquires as if he was summoned by the utterance of his name. “Gettin’ girlie here a date?”

“In Los Angeles?” you ask incredulously. “Hard pass.”

“Right, because the location is the issue with the plan. Not the fact that we’re working a case, and new evidence was discovered this morning,” Hotch deadpans from your side.

“I can multitask, boss man,” Derek defends, tossing his arm over your shoulders.

“Psychologists have determined the human brain isn’t designed for successful multitasking,” Reid begins. “It can cause switch cost, which results when attention and information retainment are suddenly redirected from one task to another, and cognitive efficiency and performance diminish-“

“Says the walking brain with at least fourteen tabs open,” Derek jokes.

“They’re waiting for us,” Hotch reminds. “I mean, only if you’re ready.”

“Your station,” Derek tells you, shaking your shoulders gently as he follows you toward the roll call room.

“… and there is no excuse for failure to communicate,” Sergeant Wade Grey continues as you follow Hotch into the roll call room.

You stand between Hotch and Derek as he speaks and look around the room. Fourteen officers are seated at the tables, listening intently even as their eyes stray to the case board. JJ joins you a moment later, mouthing an apology to Hotch before passing him a folder.

“More evidence?” you whisper.

She nods, then whispers something to Spencer, who furrows his brows and squints at the case board. You know the look, and it increases your concern about the case. Though there have been two notes and a book tied to the previous crime scenes, you’re unsure why  Hotch decided you needed to join them in LA. You could have stayed in Virginia with Penelope, you think, but you trust him and the rest of your team. Turning away from JJ, you fight the urge to peek into Hotch’s open folder as you run your eyes up and down the rows of officers. You recognize Chen and Lopez from this morning, but stop when you see Tim Bradford.

Hotch notices your shoulders stiffen in the split second before you relax, and he taps his elbow against you. You look up at him, and he nods once to reassure you. You’re not alone, and unlike the last time you were in this station, someone else knows the truth of what happened.

“Any questions about the case?” Grey asks. He sighs when someone raises their hand and says, “Yes, Nolan?”

Nolan doesn’t seem concerned with Grey’s lethargy. “What’s the connection between the zoo and the first victim?”

Spencer shifts beside you, and Derek shakes his head in amusement. You can imagine the rambling fighting to get out of Reid, and you smile at Derek rather than laugh.

“I should’ve been clearer. Any questions about our side of the investigation?” Grey amends, and this time the officers stay quiet. “In that case, I’d like to introduce Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner of the FBI, the BAU unit chief, who has brought his team across the country to assist in this case.”

Hotch walks to the front of the room and sets his files on the podium. He fixes an evaluating glare on the officers before him, then nods.

JJ leans toward you and asks, “Remember how intimidating that look used to be?”

“Still makes me stand up a little straighter,” you admit.

“We’re here to help,” Hotch begins. “But that means that we need you to be as committed to solving this case as we are. If you’re not ready for that, you’re free to go.” No one moves, so Hotch says, “Good. Sergeant Grey has briefed me on each of you. You’re good officers, but street smarts and police procedure won’t get this monster off the street.”

“But talking about the suspect’s feelings will?” one of the officers jokes.

Hotch’s eyebrows raise, and his serious look fades into a knowing glare. “You must be Bradford.”

JJ takes your hand, and Derek exhales. They know more about your history in LA than the people in LA do, and you appreciate their friendship and presence.

“Sorry, sir,” Tim replies. “I only meant that there is tangible evidence at these scenes, and it seems to me that concrete proof will help us find this guy faster than dissecting his mind through his habits and words.”

Hotch returns behind the podium and admits, “I understand how our process could seem like a waste of time, and criminal profiling is not an exact science, we’re wrong sometimes, but you know as well as I do that there’s no one right way to solve a crime. The important thing in this situation is to get a killer off the streets before he claims more lives. If our behavioral analysis can assist in that, we’d appreciate your cooperation.”

“I can assure you that you have the LAPD’s complete cooperation,” Sergeant Grey interjects, looking pointedly at Tim. “And anyone unwilling to do so will be removed from this task force.”

Tim crosses his arms across his chest and nods, a position you remember well from your limited days as a rookie. You expected this type of attitude from him and possibly more cops. You truly believe that the BAU can offer insights Tim can’t glean from analyzing a crime scene or going through the processed evidence.

“Do any of you have questions for me or my communications liaison?” Hotch asks.

Several officers ask questions about task force protocol, what your team does, and other run-of-the-mill inquiries about the federal agency and its duties.

“I believe it is time for introductions?” Hotch says, stepping to the side as he welcomes Sergeant Grey back to the front of the room.

“The LAPD has selected fourteen of its best officers-“ He turns away from the room and lowers his voice to tell Hotch, “If you’re against rookies on the team, I’ve got some other officers on standby.”

“If you trust them, they’re welcome to stay.”

Grey nods and turns, then continues, “Officer Lopez, Officer Bishop and her rookie, John Nolan, Officer Janssen…”

You tune out most of the officers’ names, trusting Spencer to fill in any blanks for you, until you hear, “Officer Bradford and his rookie, Lucy Chen.”

You were in Lucy’s position just over seven years ago, and now you’re looking in from the outside. You love your job and appreciate the FBI and the BAU for giving you a home and a rewarding career. Yet, sometimes you’re still plagued by the inevitable wondering, what if?

“Pleasure to meet you all,” Hotch responds. “I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner, behind you is my team: Special Agents Reid, Morgan, Jareau…” Hotch meets your eyes before introducing you, and you watch him rather than Tim, who turns quickly in his chair and stares wide-eyed at you before controlling his expression and returning to his usual composed demeanor.

“How is a literary analyst helpful?” someone questions softly.

“This unit has taken down more serial criminals than you can name,” Wade snaps. “Show a little respect.”

“We’d like to brief you before the media,” Hotch explains. “If it’s possible to reconvene before tomorrow’s patrol begins, of course.”

“Not a problem. I want all of you back in here fifteen minutes before beginning of shift tomorrow,” Wade tells his officers. “Keep the conversation in this room, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” the officers respond as they stand and file out of the door, some whispering together, others leaving quietly and alone.

“I think that went well,” Derek says as Hotch gathers his things.

“Socially speaking, there was a divide and a complete lack of faith in us,” Spencer argues. “Though there is the question of authority and a misunderstanding regarding our purpose and purview.”

“Pretty boy and I are going to go find some coffee.”

As Derek and Spencer leave, and JJ excuses herself to answer a phone call, you’re left alone with your current supervisor and former watch commander.

“It’s good to see you,” Wade says, smiling as he pulls you into a hug.

“You, too,” you respond. “Sorry I haven’t been back as much as I’d like.”

“I understand,” Wade assures. “And it seems that you’ve found your perfect place in the BAU.”

“We like to think so,” Hotch agrees. “Although…”

“Bradford won’t be a problem,” you interrupt.

Hotch tilts his head questioningly, and you add, “He fights back on new things, but he’s a good cop, so he’ll do what’s right in the end.”

Hotch hesitates, then asks, “Do you trust him?”

“With my life.”

“He’s the best I’ve got,” Wade comments. “But if there’s a question about him…”

“He’s Morgan, but more serious,” you tell Hotch. He doesn’t change his stare, so you sigh and promise, “I want him here. There’s no bad blood between us and he’s going to be invaluable in this.”

Hotch nods and looks away from you finally and begins asking Wade about one of the files turned in the night before, which you understand as your cue to leave. After you step out into the bullpen, Derek returns to your side.

“Where’s Spencer?” you ask, looking over his shoulder.

“Telling Officer Chen about the health benefits of doing something boring. How are you?”

“I’m okay. Hotch doesn’t seem to think so.”

Derek gasps and holds your shoulder to exclaim, “You have two overprotective father figures to work for now!”

You consider arguing for less than a second before you realize he’s right. Wade stayed in touch after you left LA. Hotch has never left room for you to wonder how he sees you and his need to protect you. So, you’re working on a case that feels like two different versions of your personality, and parts of your life have combined into one perfect yet terrifying case. And you haven’t even talked to Tim yet.

“I hope our hotel has a hot tub,” you lament.

“Plain clothes day washout number five, huh?” Lucy asks Tim as they patrol Los Angeles.

Tim shakes his head and doesn’t answer. He’s gone seven years without talking about you, only having to relive the heartbreak on your face and the disappointment he felt during his loneliest nights. Tim saw great potential in you, considered you more than a rookie, and taking your badge had affected him in a way he never expected. Now, you’re in the FBI, which is news to him, and you’re working on a case that he hasn’t been able to solve even with ten crime scenes to work with.

“What happened?” Lucy tries.

“None of your business, Chen,” he snaps. “That case, Hotchner’s team, all of it stays in the roll call room for now. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

A bell chimes above your head as you enter your favorite Los Angeles diner. It’s your first night in the city, and since you don’t know how long you’ll be here, you wanted to revisit it while you had a chance. When you mentioned the diner, your team gave you their orders to bring to the hotel, where they’re currently reviewing the autopsy reports. It feels wrong to leave them, but you sigh in the comfort of a place that once provided you a refuge after long days.

“Old habits?” you ask as you approach the counter.

Tim looks up from the laminate and watches you. You don’t meet his gaze but look at the menu while you wait for the waitress to return. This was your favorite diner when you started at the LAPD, and Tim has never given himself time to wonder why he kept coming back even after you left.

“Something like that,” he says. “So, uh, the FBI. That’s incredible.”

You shrug. “Not what I wanted, but I love it.”

Tim nods, unsure what else to say. You’re not the girl you were on day one in the academy, not even the girl who left the station in tears after washing out. Tim still sees you, the woman who fought for what was right never gave up, and was smarter than she ever realized. That’s not the person he saw your last week on patrol, but he knew you were still in there somewhere.

“How long have you been with the BAU?” he inquires.

The waitress returns, and you take the excuse to not answer Tim. You retrieve your phone from your pocket and read a large order from the screen, then pass a shiny, FBI-issued credit card over the counter.

“It’ll be a few minutes, hun,” the waitress informs as she returns the card. “Feel free to have a seat.”

You thank her and slide onto a stool, ensuring you leave an empty seat between you and Tim.

“Failing to become a police officer was one of the hardest things I’ve ever experienced,” you confess. “A few months later, Aaron Hotchner knocked on my door. There was a case nearby, a serial rapist who was leaving personalized love letters with every single victim. He found my résumé on a local job board and came to ask for help because of my background. The rest just fell into place, I guess.”

“You get to carry,” Tim points out, gesturing toward the holster on your hip, concealed from everyone else by your shirt. “They don’t let people who just ‘fall into place’ do that.”

“I did everything by the book, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I’m wondering what changed on plain clothes day,” he responds. “You were on track to be an amazing officer, and then that last week, you just… something changed.”

“I did.”

“There’s more to it.”

“There’s really not,” you insist. “If you don’t want to be on this task force-“

“I do. I wish you could see that you have the potential to lead it.”

“Hotch saved my life. I trust him.” Tim understands the part you don’t say: that you trust him more than yourself.

The waitress returns with two full bags, and you stand as you take them from the counter.

“Goodnight, Tim. I’ll see you at the station tomorrow.”

As you leave, the bell chimes over the door again, and Tim hears your voice in his head, the promise of another chance, but he doesn't miss the fact that you leave every time you see each other.

“What if - and hear me out on this - you just told him the truth,” Derek suggests.

You take a drink from a cheap Styrofoam cup and nod. “You’re right, Derek, why didn’t I think of that?”

“You know, most hotel chains serving breakfast fail to maintain proper culinary heat-“

Hotch raises one finger before Spencer can ruin breakfast for everyone. “Don’t.”

“I agree with Morgan,” JJ says. “There’s clearly questions there, and if you explain what happened, he’ll trust you more.”

“And he can deal with some of the guilt,” Hotch grumbles.

“What guilt?” you inquire, pausing with a cheap metal fork in your hand.

“He clearly blames himself for letting you lose your position,” Hotch explains.

“He knows how good you are, so that final week probably doesn’t make any sense to him,” Derek adds.

“He doesn’t,” you mutter. “He told me last night-“

“You saw him last night?” JJ exclaims.

“I ran into him at the diner.”

“He still goes to your diner?” Derek questions.

“It’s just a diner! But I saw him there and he insisted that there was more to what happened than me changing.”

“And you lied to him?” Hotch responds. “It’s over, you can tell him, you can shout it from the top of the Chinese theater.”

“That would be illegal,” Spencer mumbles.

“And wouldn’t change anything,” you add. “We’re here to work a case, not mend a bridge that has been-“ you scramble for the right word before finishing, “disintegrating for nearly a decade.”

Derek groans as he leans back in his seat, and Hotch finally looks up to say, “If this gets in the way of the case, I’ll have Garcia email him everything he needs to know.”

“I’m cutting holes in all of your quarter-zips tonight,” you threaten in return.

Hotch frowns and mouths, You’ll never find them all.

“Good morning,” Sergeant Grey calls as the door closes behind the twentieth and final member of the task force. “SSA Hotchner is going to fill you all in.”

“Thanks for coming in early,” Hotch begins. “There have been no new developments in the case since yesterday, but my team has created a preliminary profile based on the preexisting evidence and details from the first ten victims.”

Your phone buzzes with an incoming call from Garcia, and you exit the room to answer. “Whatcha got for us, gorgeous?”

“Ooh, does Derek know you’re talking to me like this?” she replies, her keyboard clicking in the background.

“Not like he’s competition,” you say with a playful scoff. “Find anything on the deep dive?”

“Nothing inherently helpful. The prelim suspects are all pretty similar, though one of them did alibi out. Carson Gillery was working remotely from Chicago during the second and third murders. Hotel and airline checks corroborate that.”

“I’ll tell Hotch. Anything else?”

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Fine. Why?”

She stops typing suddenly and then inhales sharply.

“Garcia?” You ask.

The line beeps as she disconnects, and a phone on the desk closest to you begins ringing. A Virginia area code appears on the caller ID, and you stretch across the desk to pick up the receiver.

“Penelope?” you ask hurriedly.

“He’s in the data!” she explains, typing again. “He’s not doing much, but someone is overriding minor coding and there was another line tied into our call. I could hear him breathing; thought you were crying at first, but now I’m running a backward search to find this psycho.”

“None of the prelim suspects would know how to do that,” you point out.

“Uh oh,” Penelope breathes. “I think…  I think he left you a message.”

“What is it?”

“It’s in the seventh victim’s ME report, overwriting the details of the posthumous wounding to the back. It says 2/18/17… It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul.”

“Henley,” you murmur, trying to connect the dots as you forget the first half of the message.

“There’s more,” Penelope says. “A copy of your one-way ticket to Virginia with an alternate ID that says, ‘thanks for the perfect opening night.’”

“It’s about me?” you whisper.

“I’m going to trace these messages,” Penelope declares. “You tell Hotch about this, and please, please do not try to investigate this on your own.”

“You got it. But can you send me a scan of page 39, no- 38, from the William Ernest Henley book in my office? I need the annotated copy of Invictus.”

“You got it. Tell Morgan and I said hi and I’m wearing-“

You hang up and take a deep breath as you return the receiver to the cradle.

“Agent Hotchner,” you call as you return. “I need a word.”

“Let me finish-“

“There’s been a development,” you interrupt. “An urgent one.”

Hotch sees the look in your eyes and calls Spencer to the front of the room to continue reviewing the patterns in the killings and to discuss the psychological traits and drivers they suspect the killer will have. Derek watches as Hotch and Grey follow you out of the roll call room. Meanwhile, JJ watches Officer Tim Bradford as he manages to conceal his concern but not his interest as he watches you through the glass walls.

“Garcia called with information on the prelim suspects,” you explain. “Someone tapped into the call, and then… whoever it was started manipulating her date on the FBI server. She did say that Carson Gillery alibied out, he was out of state for several of the murders, but whoever this guy is, he is incredibly close to this case.”

“Manipulated the data how?” Hotch asks.

You wring your fingers together as you answer, “He left a message. Garcia thinks it was for me.”

“Left it where?” Grey inquires.

“The seventh victim Mel Houghton’s autopsy report. It was a date and a line from a William Ernest Henley poem.”

“The date?” Hotch presses.

You inhale deeply before saying, “February 18, 2017.”

“The day you lost your position in the LAPD,” Grey remembers. “What does it mean?”

You look toward Hotch, and he shakes his head twice. There isn’t an obvious answer to Grey’s question, but the implication that this case has something to do with you isn’t good.

“He… he also had a picture of my plane ticket to Virginia and added a note, something about ‘thanks for the opening night,’” you add. “Hotch, if you have to take me off this case-“

“We need you,” he interjects. “The literary aspect of this case is progressing.”

“Does that mean we could limit our suspect search?” Wade asks, looking between you and Hotch.

“Not likely,” you reply with a sigh. “Plenty of literature enjoyers can’t be located purely based on that. There’s no evidence he’s educated or active in book clubs, debates, anything.”

“Garcia’s tracing the data changes?” Hotch assumes.

“Yes, sir.”

“Then we work what we can until she gets back to us.”

“I need to see the novellas left with the victims,” you request. Hotch begins to speak, and you add, “Not the scans, the actual, physical stories left with their bodies.”

“I’ll get someone to go through the evidence with you,” Wade assures. “Any preference?”

You look into the roll call room through the glass sheeting, your eyes drifting past Tim as you decide, “Officer Chen, please.”

Wade nods once, then returns to the podium inside as Spencer concludes his comments on the psychology of the killer’s modus operandi.

“What are you expecting to find?” Hotch asks you.

“I really wish I knew,” you answer softly. “Hotch, what if this is all my fault?”

“The delusions of a killer have nothing to do with you. If something you did as an officer triggered him to start, there is no reason to assume he wouldn’t have started later. He’s clearly reality-challenged, living in a space between this world and the events of his imagination, and that is not on you.”

You nod, rubbing your forehead as you think. “Literature is clearly important to him. If it comes to it, will you let me go with JJ to a press conference?”

Hotch hesitates, and you know he doesn’t like the idea of putting his team in public view, unless absolutely necessary, but he says, “Fine. Only if it gets that far.”

“Hotch? February 2017 had massive storms. Urban flooding, mudslides, wind, snowfall, there was mayhem that week. I mean, a police chase with a DUI driver, a car fell into a sinkhole. I used some of those cases to…” You trail off, remembering all of the things you did wrong.

“Talk to me,” Hotch encourages.

“Any one of the people who had contact with the LAPD that weekend could have been pushed over the edge. He could have been killing for seven years, since whatever happened, but just got bold and brazen enough to make it public.”

Hotch leaves your side for a moment to wave Spencer out. When he joins you and Hotch in the bullpen, Hotch gestures for you to explain your theory.

“I suppose,” Spencer muses. “The killings have progressed minimally since the first victim three months ago. It does point toward a more practiced unsub, someone who has, in their mind, perfected their method. Yes, it’s completely possible.”

“The books,” Hotch points out. “Those are new. Unsolved cases with novellas or poems shoved down victims’ throats would have caught someone’s attention by now.”

“Serial killers gain experience with each new offense,” Spencer explains. “The learning curve is steep because of the logistics it takes to commit a murder. If he’s been killing without being caught, the thrill of killing would empower him to take more chances. In this case, the trophy aspect of his MO could easily have changed, but his idiosyncratic psychological needs remain the same.”

“We don’t have enough people to comb through seven years of cold cases to find similar killings,” you lament.

“We do have the media,” JJ interjects, sliding her phone into her pocket as she approaches. “It’s a long shot, but if we could find one or two, would it be enough to complete a profile?”

“An estimate of how long he’s been at this, with Garcia’s trace and the analysis of the literature at the scene… Yes, we could establish a firm MO and improve the unsub’s psychological profile.”

“Hold on,” Derek urges into his phone as he joins the rest of your team. He looks at you and says, “Give me your phone.”

You pass it to him, and he flips it in his free hand as he listens. He gives you an apologetic look and then drops it.

“Morgan!” Hotch exclaims as Derek brings the heel of his boot down on your phone screen.

“Unless Penelope told you to do that, I’m going to be very mad,” you say.

“Alright, baby girl, tell us all,” Derek requests as he puts his phone on speaker.

“I found our guy, or his IP address at least,” Penelope says.

“And?” Hotch asks. “Where is he?”

“That’s the thing. He’s in an apartment a few miles from the station.”

You recite your previous address and Penelope murmurs, “That’s the one.”

Penelope explains how she traced his data trail before you interrupt to ask, “Is there anything about another cop in it?”

“Uh, there were some numbers,” she answers.

“34381?” you guess. “And 6147?”

“Amongst others, yeah. Do they mean something to you?”

“One is Officer Bradford’s badge number. The other is Sergeant Kenneth Adamson.”

“I’ll run the rest of the numbers against the LAPD database and get back to you.”

“Are all of our phones in need of stomping?” Spencer asks before Penelope hangs up.

“Not yet,” she replies, and then the line clicks.

“Running everything is going to take too long,” you complain. “He’s probably already targeted his next victim. He could be writing the novella for all we know!”

“His system is organized,” Spencer explains. “We can use that. The past victims have been a week or more apart. Even if he does change his timeline because we’re here, he needs time to plan, write, correct?”

“Yes,” you answer. “He could do it overnight if the circumstances called for it.”

“Assuming he’ll take a break between kills, however…”

“We have two days,” Derek concludes. “Let’s hope he’s not too organized, doc.”

“He’s a criminal,” JJ says. “They all get stupid and forgetful.”

“We don’t change anything. He’s changing the rules, pushing himself, but we’re not playing his game,” Hotch says. “And, for the moment, we keep the LAPD connection to ourselves.”

“What if they could help?” JJ argues.

“No.”

“Act like we have a week, and he won’t expect us to be ready to go,” you say. “In that case, I’ll start analyzing the literature.”

“Speaking of which.” JJ pulls a paper from her bag and says, “The homicide detective said CSI found this on a secondary scene analysis.”

You read the scan of the evidence, and your eyes widen as you look up at Derek. “Good thing you came with. He’s building a bomb.”

“Whoa,” Derek says with little intonation in his voice, but his hands raise as he moves his head in surprise. “Explain the progression from writing stories to bombs.”

“Postmodern literature is the most recent literary movement that contains vulgarity in diction and violence. It’s often used as an authentic portrayal of humanity, depicting violence against gender, race, and the human body,” Spencer answers. “Epic poetry was one of the first storytelling forms to depict interpersonal violence.”

Derek rolls his eyes at Spencer’s reply to the rhetorical question, and you add, “The Victorian literary period was marked by violence through the use of suffering and physical dangers as literary themes. The gothic genre aestheticized the darker elements of human life, explored sexual violence, dramatic monologues, and realistic violence like robbery, beheadings, even serial murders.”

“Which affects us how?” Hotch inquires.

“William Ernest Henley was a prominent figure in the later years of the Victorian movement. He sent lines from Invictus to Garcia, and that piece has been the poem of choice for extremists and terrorists to justify their violence in the last few years. There is some hardship beyond our killer’s control, and this is how he’s dealing with it.”

“Still doubting your hypothesis?” Hotch deadpans.

“Wouldn’t he have to stop all of the suffering somehow?” JJ asks.

“Yes. But he hasn’t decided on an endgame yet, we’ll see the signs of that when it comes. The beginning of a plan for a bomb isn’t concerning yet. For now, we continue as planned, but he will likely strike again in 24 to 48 hours.”

“They’re getting concerned,” Derek whispers, waving toward the roll call room.

“I’ll handle them. You have your assignments,” Hotch states. “We reconvene tonight after end of shift.”

“Yes, sir,” you agree with the rest of your team.

As you return to the roll call room between JJ and Derek, you keep your eyes on the front of the room, ignoring how Tim turns to look at you. Hotch gives an acceptable excuse for your team’s private meeting and then provides tasks with Sergeant Wade.

“What about me?” Lucy asks as the other officers exit into the bullpen.

“You’re with me,” you reply, stepping toward her as you smile. “If that’s okay.”

“Yes!” Lucy cheers. She clears her throat and amends, “Yes, of course, I’d love to help.”

“Keep me updated,” Hotch tells you.

“Yes, sir. Oh, and…” You move your fingers in a scissor motion to remind him of your previous threat before concluding, “Spencer has the information you asked for.”

Hotch nods once, and Wade smiles. Suddenly, you’re hit with the feeling of being torn apart, stuck between the life you wanted and the one you have. When the case is solved, the killer is behind bars, and you’ll have to leave these people again. At least you’ve finally remembered that planes travel both ways.

“Ten victims,” you say as you pin the last picture to the bulletin board in the office you and Lucy have set up. “Six novellas, a book, two pamphlets, and a bloody poem.”

Lucy’s eyes follow the red thread connecting the victims to their evidence and the order of the killings as you stare at the T.S. Eliot poem from the fifth scene with your hands on your hips.

Plus, a William Ernest Henley poem meant to bring me into the killer’s world, you think.

“Ready?” you ask Lucy.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You laugh and invite her to use your first name, then spread the evidence pictures from the first murder on the metal desk. It isn’t the same as reviewing the physical books and poems, the thick paper holding the twisted ideas of a serial killer left warm from the printer beside the lives he claimed for the sake of his own story. It’s the best you can do for now.

“Janice Davis, our first victim. The killer stapled a San Diego Zoo pamphlet to her chest.” You flip through the case file and add, “Antemortem. Ouch.”

“That looks like a building staple,” Lucy muses, leaning over the picture.

“It is. Your forensics lab determined it’s a Powernail galvanized seven-eighths inch crown staple. Intended purpose is woodworking and flooring, and one side of the staple extends out at an angle, so even if she was conscious long enough to try removing it… well, it would’ve hurt more to take it out.”

“What was the cause of death?”

“Unknown,” you read, furrowing your brows. “Manner of death: homicide. But it looks like they couldn’t determine the cause. Any chance ME Daniella Smith is still around?”

“I don’t know,” Lucy confesses. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Sorry, you’re good at this, I keep forgetting you’re a rookie.”

“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever told me.”

You smile, then return to the evidence before you. “The next victim, Gregory Hunter, was found with a copy of Orwell’s Animal Farm open beneath his head. The page, as far as I can tell, is irrelevant.”

“Then what’s the point of leaving it there?”

“Hunter was Davis’s boss, and apparently they had been involved a few years prior to working together. Animal Farm presents Orwell’s ideas on power, equality, socialism and corruption.”

“All things the San Diego Zoo has been accused of abusing throughout history,” Lucy adds. “Along with the animals.”

“Precisely. Then it wouldn’t be a stretch to assume that our killer was wronged by a failing class structure, abuse of power and control, inequality, or socialism.”

“That’s a lot of options.”

“Which is why we keep looking. Victim number three had a personalized novella…”

“The method of killing has been consistent with every victim. They’re injured, kept alive for three to twelve hours, and then killed. Janice Davis, victim one, was ruled as undetermined cause of death, but there was no evidence of blunt force trauma, gunshot wounds or poisoning, which we’d expect based on the sudden killings of the others,” Spencer explains.

“You can tune him out,” Derek whispers. “When his voice drops an octave, he’s about to ask a question.”

Tim nods, but he wasn’t listening to begin with. His mind keeps drifting to thoughts of you. He watched you talk to your team, has worked with you, and knows the depth of your talent and potential. Yet he continues to wonder how you truly came to work at such an elite division in the FBI and what you’re hiding.

“Do any of you have experience with crime scene investigation?” Spencer asks.

Several officers raise their hands, including Angela. Tim has guarded scenes and looked around on his own time, but he isn’t sure when his unique skills will be required for this case.

“Morgan,” Hotch calls from the doorway. “Take an officer to gather the literary evidence. Someone with a station ID has to sign it out for us.” He looks towards the front of the room and sighs. “And tell Spencer to wrap it up.”

“Doctor Morgan,” Derek calls as he stands. “Perhaps we should move on to the evidence snapshots and physical profile?”

Spencer nods and shifts his attention to the tools and proposed appearance of the killer.

“I’ve got a station ID,” Tim tells Derek. “If you need that evidence now.”

Derek sighs but waves for Tim to join him. He remains quiet while they walk to the evidence lockers, largely because he’s evaluating Tim. Derek knows about your time in Los Angeles, and even if he did encourage you to talk to Tim, he isn’t sure if Tim deserves your time.

“You were military?” Derek asks as they wait for the evidence to be thoroughly signed out and accounted for.

“Army,” Tim responds. “FBI always the goal for you?”

“Oh, nah, I started as a cop up in Chicago. Things just happened.”

“Seems to be a lot of that,” Tim murmurs, remembering your ‘fell into place’ excuse.

“Why be a TO?”

Tim shrugs. He’s never had a good answer for that question, and if he starts thinking, he might get caught up on his fifth washout.

“Special Agent Morgan,” the evidence officer says as he places a large box on the ledge. “Your supervisor has to sign this form upon evidence return.”

“Got it. Thank you.”

Derek picks up the box and steps back, but the officer places another box behind it. Tim takes it without a word and follows Derek to an office with a closed door.

He taps his foot against the door and calls, “Open up, pretty girl, these muscles are just for show!”

You smile as you open the door, and Tim clenches his jaw at the realization that Derek Morgan just called you ‘pretty girl.’

“I fear you’ve mistaken me for Penelope,” you tell him as you hold the door. “Thank you so much.”

Tim nods as he places the box down, and then looks at the case board.

“Oh, Tim,” Lucy says. “Do you know if ME Daniella Smith is still working?”

“She retired,” Tim replies.

You drop your shoulders and nod. “Thanks.”

“I can get her address and phone number, though,” he offers, partially to help and partially because he hates how disappointed you look.

“That would be amazing!” you reply happily. “Lucy, feel free to go with him, move around for a few minutes.”

Lucy follows Tim, and you close the door to talk to Derek. You explain that the literature points toward class structure, abuse of power, or socialism.

“Maybe he should move to Canada instead of killing then,” Derek muses. “Have you told Hotch?”

“Not yet. There’s also the string of violence in the literature. At first, it was metaphorical violence, a symbolic representation of the dangers of power in society, but it’s gotten more blatant, more Victorian in its realism.”

“The novellas?” he guesses.

“I haven’t gotten to read them in their entirety yet, I’ll start that now, but I’d guess he’s outlining his preferred method of violence as well as the reason.”

“Think it will shed some light on the explosives schematics? Which, by the way, are pretty weak. A bomb like that would be hard pressed to flip a Prius, it wouldn’t do major damage unless it was an incredibly confined space.”

“Ask Spencer what he thinks about the space,” you suggest. “The killings have been in relatively open spaces, but he’d know better than me if it means anything.”

“I’ll run it by him if I can get a word in.”

You laugh at Derek’s joke, but he turns serious again to ask, “Are you okay? I know this can’t be easy for you, working a case here after seven years.”

“I’m okay,” you promise. “I’ll let you know if that changes and I need a Morgan hug.”

Derek smiles as he opens the door, and Tim and Lucy return soon after.

“She lives three miles from here and said she’d talk to you,” Lucy relays.

“Let me tell my team.”

Tim raises a hand to stop you as you gather your things and repeats, “She said she’d talk to you. She recognized your name.”

“Oh.” Hotch walks by the door, and you step out quickly to explain, “I found the ME who couldn’t determine Janice Davis’s cause of death. She’s retired, but lives nearby and agreed to talk to me, but only me.”

Hotch weighs his options, but when he sees Tim behind you, he suggests, “Then you should probably take your TO.”

Your eyes widen in shock, but you trust Hotch, so you nod and step back into the office.

“You don’t have to,” you begin as Tim asks, “Ready?”

You fail to find the right words for several moments, then say, “Lucy, do you want to help Derek Morgan review crime scenes for construction and security?”

“Sure! Let me know if you need more help with this stuff when you get back,” she responds. “Good luck!”

“Thanks,” you say, though you think I’ll need it.

“Do you want to drive or should I?” Tim asks once you’re alone.

You lift keys from your pocket and say, “I will. Do you think Smith will be any help?”

“We can hope.”

“Can I address the elephant in the room?” Sergeant Grey asks.

“Be my guest,” Hotch answers, not looking up from his improved profile.

“Bradford isn’t operating at his usual level.”

“She is.”

“Which is why I think there may be more to his side of the story.”

Hotch looks up to propose, “You think he had something to do with Adamson’s misconduct?”

“No,” Wade assures, “nothing like that. But two days of fire-able offenses and not a single correction from her TO? Bradford either didn’t care that she gave up or, for some reason, he wasn’t in a position to.”

“The corruption we found ran deep. There’s a chance he was hoping to get a piece of the takeaway… or he was in a similar position to her.” Hotch reaches for his phone quickly after he speaks and raises it to his ear. “Garcia, I need you to run the badge numbers again. Tell me how many of them had a direct connection to Keith Adamson.”

“One second,” Penelope requests. “Software’s running it now. Oh, the medical examiner, Smith, she resigned less than an hour after the charges against Adamson came in. Thought that was interesting.”

“That’s one connection.”

“Okay, yep, all ten of the badge numbers embedded in the coding have connections to Adamson. Seven subordinates, his captain, and two IA investigators.”

“Thanks, Garcia.” Hotch ends the call and tells Wade, “Whatever Adamson did, it wasn’t just skimming the evidence pile, it pushed our killer over the edge.”

“I remember Janice Davis,” Daniella Smith says as she passes you a mug of hot tea. “She was young, twenty-six, I believe, and had a construction staple in her sternum.”

“Your official report listed the cause of death as indiscernible,” you reply, wrapping your hands around the mug as your thigh presses against Tim’s on the small settee. “Do you remember if you may have had any hypotheses?”

Daniella sighs as she lowers into a chair across from you. “It was asphyxiation. Her mouth was sealed with superglue, and she couldn't get enough air after a few hours of lying horizontally.”

Tim looks at you before demanding, “Why didn’t you put that in the report?”

“I was scared.”

“And you think the people living here weren’t?”

“Tim,” you whisper harshly. You shake your head as Daniella shrinks in her seat. “Why were you scared, Ms. Harris?” She shakes slightly, and you give her a moment to breathe before you ask, “Did someone at the police station ask you to lie?”

She laughs once, a sad sound before she wipes her nose and corrects, “He threatened me if I didn’t.”

“Who?” Tim asks.

“Sergeant Keith Adamson. He was the watch commander at the time. My career, my life, my marriage, he threatened to ruin it all if I didn’t cover up how she was killed.”

“Was there residue?” you inquire. “From the superglue?”

“There were trace amounts, and the lab was able to identify it easily.”

“It was the only death to be covered up, why do you think that is?”

Daniella looks up quickly, her eyes wide as she states, “Because it was an experiment. The others were killed more conventional, faster: a slit throat, hammer to the temple. Her death would have taken time.”

“Was the time of death in your report accurate?” you ask. “Because it was around the same time as the others even with the changed MO.”

“It was,” she explains, “he must have taken her earlier to get a head start.”

“You said it was an experiment,” Tim repeats. “She was victim number one. If it didn’t go well, wouldn’t the others have just been an improved, or changed, MO?”

Daniella frowns, and you lean forward to ask, “How many more were there?”

Tim slams the passenger door as you return to the car. Daniella disappears from the front window, crying as you start the engine.

“The FBI will charge me if this car gets damaged,” you mumble as you shift into reverse.

“Thirty deaths that she knows of!” Tim exclaims. “How could she cover all of those up?”

“Pretty easily. Self-preservation is a powerful motivator.”

“This monster has been at it for years. You were probably on the job for some of his murders, how can you say that?”

“It’s not my place to judge everyone involved in this case, Tim. Not yours either.”

Tim scoffs, but he’s interrupted by your phone ringing. You answer by saying your last name and Hotch’s voice fills the car as he speaks.

“There’s been another murder,” he says. You slap the steering wheel before he continues, “A double murder. I’m sending you the address. Drop Bradford at the station and meet us there.”

“Yes, sir.”

After the call ends, you grit your teeth to keep yourself from yelling. You spent too much time with the retired ME, and two more people are dead now.

“I’m going with you,” Tim states.

“No, you’re not. You heard him, you’re going back to the station.”

“You need me-“

“Actually, we don’t. We have jurisdiction now, Tim,” you snap.

“Do they know about everything you did your last week on the job?” Tim challenges. “How you ignored calls, put yourself, and me, in danger just to let the clearly guilty criminals go? I mean, you let a guy get away with assault and your handcuffs!”

You don’t reply because your mind begins racing. You had forgotten about that specific incident. Your last two days on the job were a blur, just forty-eight hours you have done everything you could to forget.

“Alexander Riley,” you murmur.

“What?” Tim snaps.

“Nothing, Tim. I’m sorry you’re not happy, but you don’t have authorization to join me, and I’m done breaking the rules.”

“Convenient.”

You hit the brakes too hard as you stop outside the back entrance of the station. Tim slams the door again before he walks inside, and you shift into park to call Derek.

“Are you still at the station?” you ask when he answers.

“We’re about to leave,” he replies. “Did you beat us to the scene? You know speed limits still apply to federal agents, right?”

“No, I’m at the station too. I need you to - without raising suspicion - get Hotch and Sergeant Grey out here.”

“Okay,” he agrees slowly. “Why?”

“Because I think I know who the killer is. Bring the novella from the ninth scene, it’s Heralded Angels.”

“You got it.”

You can hear the strain in Derek’s voice, but there’s too much on your mind to dwell on his reaction right now. After Hotch, JJ, Derek, and Spencer join you in the FBI-issued SUV, you follow Sergeant Grey, driving an unmarked car, to the double murder scene.

“You had something for me?” Grey asks as you approach the townhouse.

“I do. Trust me for a few more minutes and I’ll tell you everything?”

Wade nods, and you enter the bloody living room with your team. JJ waits outside, and as you squat beside a bookcase covered in blood splatter, you know you’re right.

“Alexander Riley,” you announce, pushing against your knees to stand. “I think he’s our killer.”

“Why?” Spencer asks. “Wait, who?”

“Alexander Riley is one of the men I should have arrested my last week as a rookie.” You look toward Wade as you continue, “He assaulted a store owner while looting during a flood, and I let him get away. He ran away with my handcuffs, but I didn’t try to stop him because I was sure Sergeant Adamson would have used it against me.”

“Abuse of power,” Hotch deduces.

“Right, and class system. You know, cop doesn’t do what cop is supposed to do. So, he may have taken his escape as a sign that something needed to change.”

“Based on his killings, I’d agree that he saw a wrong that needed to be fixed, but why murder?” Wade asks. “How does that fit his idea of making things right, evening everything?”

“He chose victims he viewed as outliers,” Spencer explains. “The first two victims were romantically involved, and then she got a job in his company.”

“The fifth victim was a single man with adopted children, and he left a copy of T.S. Eliot’s ‘The Hollow Men,’” you add. “He went after people who didn’t fit into our traditional class system or who benefitted from misused power. And, if that isn’t enough… there’s an extra novella in here.”

“What?” Hotch and Wade say, stepping toward you simultaneously.

“It’s a little bloody, but the words cop, dirty, and corrected system are showing up pretty well. My name’s on the first page, and I’d guess it’s on the last, too.”

“He’s going to target you?” Derek translates. “That’s not okay.”

“We need to find him first,” you reply. “He’s not going to press pause until he can get to me, he thinks he has to fix the entire world.”

“I’ll get a BOLO out,” Wade offers.

“Wait, Sergeant Grey,” Hotch calls. “I think this should come from us.” He turns toward you and adds, “It would mean more from you.”

“I’ll do it. Although, some of those cops aren’t going to like hearing that I had something to do with it.”

“Just send ‘em my way,” Derek jokes.

“Our profile is complete,” you begin, looking at the entire task force. “And we’ve used that profile, along with scene evidence, literary analysis, and previous arrest records to identify Alexander Riley as our killer. Sergeant Grey has posted a BOLO, and we’d like to send you out in patrol teams to assist in the search for Riley.”

Tim has his folder open, and you’re sure he’s reading the incident report filed after you let Riley get away.

“Maybe you should get out there and find him instead of sitting in our station and reading,” he snarks, closing his folder.

“Bradford,” Wade begins.

“No, it’s okay,” you assure. “I will be assisting in the search, and I will admit that my incompetence likely played a role in Mr. Riley’s progression from petty thief to serial killer. However, we have reason to believe he was killing in private long before he felt the need to leave his victims in plain view for Los Angeles and all of America to see.”

“Officer Bradford, he listed you by name in the novella left at Liza Renner’s murder,” Hotch interjects. “Do you know why he may have done that?”

“No idea. Sir.”

“I’d appreciate if you would stay and help review the story to find an idea, then.”

You look between Hotch and Tim quickly, but their icy stares make you look away before you continue explaining what the manhunt entails and how the FBI will assist.

“Be safe out there,” you conclude.

As officers stand and leave, Hotch and Wade walk to Tim’s side, and then all three of them exit through a different exit.

“That was fun,” you mumble to Derek.

“On the bright side, no one has been publicly executed in the US since 1936, so it’s unlikely you’ll be burned at the stake,” Spencer says.

“That is bright,” you respond. “Thanks, Reid.”

An officer asks for your assistance and leads you to an observation room. Your eyes widen when you realize Tim and Hotch are on the other side of the glass in an interview room. Rushing into the room, you’re surprised when Hotch invites you to take a seat. As the door closes, Tim clenches his fists and begins to stand.

“Sit down,” Hotch demands, unmoving as Tim rises from his chair. Tim turns, face-to-face with Hotch. “Sit down,” Hotch repeats, quieter yet firmer.

Tim falls back into his seat and crosses his arms to stare at you.

“You can blame me if you want,” you offer. “But it won’t change anything. Twelve people are dead because of me.”

“Then why is my rookie still patrolling the streets of LA looking for the man your team decided did this? Hotch here covering for you again?” Tim challenges.

“Shut up,” Hotch says as he sits beside you, across the Table from Tim.

“Kenneth Adamson,” you say. “Do you have any idea of what he did?”

“Fired you for taking the easy way out when you decided you didn’t want to be a cop anymore?”

“Intimidated me,” you reply. “Got indicted for it, but it was never made public knowledge because ‘he was facing enough personal and professional issues for the widespread results of his corruption.’ Good excuse, right? Tim, I happened to be the person who put cuffs on Alexander Riley and allowed his delusion to take over. I didn’t mean to turn him into a serial killer, but I still feel like I have blood on my hands.”

“Wait,” Tim requests, raising his hand. “Adamson intimidated you?”

“Yes.”

“You could have told me.”

You scoff, and Hotch raises his brows. “Like you would have believed me,” you reply.

Tim leans across the table, ignoring how Hotch moves closer to you, protective and ready to finish this case.

“He intimidated me too,” Tim confesses. “We should have told each other, but we messed up, and I’m sorry for that. Adamson was going to tell IA about something I did in the Army and twist it to get me fired if I didn’t find a way to get you off the force. Then you suddenly stopped trying and I thought… I guess I didn’t think about it, or I would’ve seen it.”

You look at Hotch, who shrugs. There likely isn’t proof that Adamson did to Tim what he did to you, but you have to make a choice. You can believe Tim Bradford or walk away.

“I caught him stealing evidence,” you say. “Skimming money from scenes before CSI got there, pulling jewelry from robbed houses, little things he didn’t think anyone would miss. When I saw him outright lie to a victim who only wanted her late mother’s locket back, I said something. And he was going to make my life a waking hell for it. So, I did what he asked and threw away my career.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want your apologies, Tim. I want you to help me find Alexander Riley and put cuffs on him before he goes after another innocent person, because there is nothing to stop him from progressing to killing cops he sees as corrupt. We kept it from the other officers because of that, so please don’t make me regret trusting you.”

Tim nods and murmurs another apology. You read his lips as he says it, and when Hotch stands, you’re prepared to accept it.

“One more out of line comment and you’re off this task force, Officer Bradford,” Hotch says as he buttons his blazer.

“Yes, sir. I’ll do everything I can to assist you.”

“Do you know why Riley would have used your name as a cursed wanderer in Liza Renner’s novella?” you ask, standing beside Hotch.

“Cursed wanderer?” Tim repeats.

“Remorseful, unabsolved character tormented by their fate and their actions.”

“He must not remember you well,” Hotch tells Tim.

“He’s not a very good writer,” Spencer mutters as he flips the page of one of Alexander Riley’s novellas.

“Maybe we should find a way to charge him for that too,” Derek grumbles. “I mean, ‘Tim Bradford carried the weight of his sins, heavier than the Kevlar on his chest. Each day he was forced to face the memories of how he’d failed his partner, the only woman he may ever love, but would never deserve.’ That’s awful.”

You and Tim turn to face each other quickly, each wondering if you heard what Derek read correctly.

“Derek, does that- when you read it, does it seem like he’s saying his partner is the only woman he’d ever love? Same person?” you ask.

“Yeah. You.”

“That’s what I got too,” JJ agrees. “There’s characters in the third novella that look exactly like the two of you, but they’re married. Doomed by the narrative to watch each other die, but…”

“Are there characters like that in all of them?” Hotch asks.

The sound of papers flipping precedes several firm answers of “Yes.”

“They always die?” you add. “But he doesn’t know. He sees a relationship that isn’t there.”

Tim doesn’t say anything, but you ignore him as you ask JJ to use her laptop. After signing in to your email, you pull up the scans Penelope sent you from the books in your office.

“In the clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeoning of chance my head is bloody, but unbowed,” you read. “Black as the pit from pole to pole.”

“Are you gonna explain it or is this like Jeopardy?” Derek questions.

“He doesn’t portray our characters as corrupt,” you cheer. “We’re unfortunate, ‘doomed by the narrative’ players in a bigger game. I need the newest novella, the extra one from the double homicide scene.”

Wade knocks on the open door as you look through the evidence boxes on the table. He glances between you and Bradford before he asks, “Have any of you heard from Lopez and West?”

“They’re revisiting the last scene,” Hotch says. “They haven’t checked in?”

“Not recently.”

Tim looks at you, and when you meet his eyes, he offers, “We’ll find them.”

“Be careful,” Wade implores. “And keep me updated.”

“Can you do me a favor?” you ask.

“Anything,” JJ and Derek answer together.

“Look for any sign of restoration or avenging. It’ll probably be in the first novella, but I need to know if my character in his story is avenged somehow.”

“Revenge is a psychological response to wounds from others,” Spencer says. “Why would he be motivated to retaliate and justify this level of violence for you, if you’re the one who did wrong?”

“I think he may have changed his motives after Keith Adamson was indicted. If you find something, let me know, if not, Hotch probably has a better idea.”

You follow Tim to an unmarked car and ride in the passenger seat like you’ve pressed play after seven long years of having this part of your life on pause. Somehow, it feels better than before.

Tim's radio crackles as he makes the last turn to reach the crime scene.

“07-Adam-07,” Angela radios. “Sergeant Bradford, contact on channel 3.”

Tim changes the dial to channel 5 as he slows on the curb. You point to the dial, and he raises a thumb to tell you it wasn’t an accident.

“07-Adam-19,” he replies. “Go ahead, Lopez.”

“I think we found something that might be helpful to the detectives. Meet me at the scene and see if you agree?”

“I was already on the way. To tell you the truth, I don’t trust the feds. ETA two minutes.”

Tim returns his radio to the dash and then sits back to wait.

“Don’t trust the feds, huh?” you ask, smiling as he rolls his eyes.

“You really think he realized we were just as aggrieved as him?” Tim asks.

“Big word,” you murmur before dodging Tim’s weak backhand. “Why else would he keep us in the grand story he’s trying to write?”

“You said your character died in the new one.”

“All I saw was my name. I made an assumption without enough evidence. It was stupid.”

“Welcome to the club.”

Your phone buzzes, and you shake your head as you read the message from Penelope. “FBI tech guru Garcia hacked into the house’s security system. She’s got cameras inside. Riley has Lopez and West holed up in the master bathroom. My team and your watch commander are watching, ready to breach if this doesn’t go well.”

“You think it will?”

“I think Derek is going to be very mad after I do something reckless. That’s how it usually goes.”

Tim clears his throat awkwardly, then asks, “Are you and Morgan…?”

“No,” you answer with a laugh. “He’s just one of the many protective men I work with.”

“It’s been a minute and a half,” Tim says, changing the subject and breathing a little easier. “Are you ready?”

“I hope so.”

You exit the passenger seat as Tim pops the trunk. He passes you an LAPD bulletproof vest and a standard-issue belt to help you look more like a cop and less like a fed. After pulling the vest over your head, you struggle to get the belt in place beneath it. Tim gently takes it from you, his hands moving carefully around your waist as he clips the tactical buckle and slides the gun holster to its correct position.

“Thanks,” you whisper as he straightens, mere inches from you.

Tim drops his hands away from your sides but doesn’t move away. “Channel 3 is Lopez’s code,” he explains. “She only uses it when something’s wrong.”

Your phone buzzes again, and you turn away from Tim to answer it. “Hello?”

“Riley is armed,” Hotch says. “He’s got Lopez and West in the master bedroom on the ground floor. They’re uninjured, but he’s fidgety.”

“Did Derek ask Spencer about the bomb?”

“He did,” Spencer replies. Hotch’s phone is likely on speaker, and you turn your phone to allow Tim to hear too. “The bomb schematics were for a very closed-in space… like the townhouse you’re about to go into. It’s not incredibly enclosed, but given that Riley has issues with control, it could be a manifestation of claustrophobia. If his anxiety has caused a fear of enclosed spaces, based on the fear of losing control in those spaces, then he may be attempting to overcome that by giving himself power in the situation.”

“Could he be a cleithrophobe?” Tim wonders.

“What is that?” Derek asks, and you can imagine him looking around Wade’s office.

“I haven’t seen evidence of it,” Spencer answers. “He doesn’t seem to mind being closed in; the murders in the townhouse didn’t seem to affect him, but he is clearly concerned with power, control, and the hierarchy of those. It relates more to claustrophobia. Though I wouldn’t advise locking any doors to test it.”

You hang up suddenly and gesture to the townhouse. Tim looks up in time to see the curtain in an upstairs room fall back into place. He takes the lead, walking to the door with purpose and his hand on his gun. You follow him and look around the front porch for any sign that Riley is planning to kill anyone today.

Tim pushes the door open carefully, nodding to tell you it is unlocked before Angela calls his name. The novella with your name in it is still by the bookcase, and you remove it from the evidence bag and slide it under your vest. You trade places with Tim, going up the stairs first as he covers you. At the top of the landing, Alexander Riley steps out into the hallway with a gun strapped around his shoulders.

“You made it,” he says.

“We’re here to help, Riley,” you explain softly, holding your hands where he can see them. “You know that.”

He nods before jerking his head toward the doorway. You walk past him and stop in the center of the bedroom, scanning Angela and Jackson for any wounds. Luckily, they appear to be fine other than the handcuffs secured around their wrists.

“What’s the plan here?” Tim asks. “Not much room for error, Mr. Riley.”

“Give me your gun,” Alexander replies, holding his rifle with one hand as he extends the other toward Tim.

Tim complies, but his glance at you is a clear communication to not surrender your FBI-issued piece.

“Against the wall,” Alexander tells Tim. “You’re right, there isn’t room for error. But I’m prepared. I’ve been preparing since I lost everything.”

Tim sits against the wall, less than a foot from Angela. Alexander turns toward you, and his gaze softens. You were right, it seems. Alexander Riley has a soft spot for you; he thinks you’re like him, wronged by corruption and abused power, and you’re going to work that soft spot until he’s in cuffs.

“Take your vest off,” he requests. “Please.”

You don’t move but look pointedly at his gun before raising your eyes to his face.

“I won’t hurt you.”

Despite your instinct to refuse, to call in the cavalry and help Tim incapacitate the killer before you, there is too much at stake, and the longer you’re compliant, the longer Riley will keep everyone alive. So, you pull the vest over your head, not bothering to catch the novella as it falls to the floor, the blood on the cover contrasting the neutral carpet below your feet.

Back at the station, Hotch clenches his jaw as you open yourself to Riley, and Derek says, “Don’t do it… I might kill her for that.”

“You wrote it, right?” you ask, gesturing toward the stapled manuscript. “You wrote all of them.”

Riley fidgets, then nods.

You step toward him, keeping your expression soft and conveying understanding as you add, “I read some of them. They’re good, Alex. Can I call you Alex, or do you go by something else?”

“Alex is fine,” he replies, whispering your name under his breath like a prayer.

Tim shifts as Alexander’s attention changes slightly, morphing from a fierce protector into someone who wants to be by your side after you’ve been saved. You don’t spare a glance toward Tim, and for a brief moment, he wonders where you learned to do this. Then reality crashes back in like a wave that knocks Tim off his feet, the reminder that he could have taught you if he hadn’t let Keith Adamson get to him.

“In Brightest Day, you wrote a character who was a young cop, naïve and desperate to do the best thing,” you continue. “Who was she?”

“You know who,” Alex mutters.

You smile and ask, “Was I in all of them?”

“Of course.”

“That’s why you went to my old apartment before you sent the message to my friend in the FBI? Because I’m part of this? No, because you’re improving the character, right?”

“You were so far away,” he whispers.

“Alex, did you learn how to code just to talk to me?” you inquire softly.

He nods, then looks to the novella at your feet. The toes of your boots are inches from the paper, and his mouth twitches like he wants you away from it.

“Kick it,” he demands.

“Why? It’s art, it’s part of your soul,” you argue.

“Kick it.”

Tim nods in your peripheral, and you swallow before kicking it toward the door. Alex doesn’t hesitate to shoot the paper. You turn away from the noise, covering your ears even though it’s too late to keep your head from pounding. As the noise fades and your hearing returns, you see the shredded paper surrounding the hole in the floor.

“How does the story end, Alex?” you ask, stepping toward him again. “Are you like the truck drivers in Animal Farm? The cursed wanderer in Render Down you wrote for Liza? Or are you some new character that only cares about usurping the power for yourself?”

“It was never about me!” he replies, louder than you’ve heard him before. He softens his voice to repeat, “Never.”

“She was mine first,” Tim interjects suddenly.

Alex spins on his heel, the barrel of his rifle rising as he faces Tim. You shake your head wildly, desperate to stop him from saying something that will make Alex pull the trigger again. Angela looks down quickly, and you see her gun beneath the bed. As Alex’s chest heaves, his eyes locked unblinking on Tim’s, you move closer to the weapon, to Alex, and to freedom where you all walk out of here alive.

“I was saving her!” Alex roars. “From corruption, from Adamson, from you!”

“Adamson is the only one who hurt her,” Tim argues.

“February 17, 2017. You took your rookie to a noise disturbance call, and when you got there, four stupid young men were looting a flooded store during a break in the storms. She handcuffed one of them, but the rest ran. Then… then you started yelling at her, blaming her for all of it. While you were busy berating her, the other man ran with the handcuffs. I got away, but the power, the corruption, the greed was all getting to be too much. We hurt the owner because she was too worried about not getting insurance money for the water damage to empty out the register.”

“Something changed,” you say from beside Riley.

He doesn’t move away from Tim but stops talking to listen.

“In the first novella, it was you and me, wasn’t it? You wanted to make a new world together, save me from the love you thought would corrupt me.”

“Adamson used you too,” Alex tells Tim. “I made room for you to come with us and this is how you repay me? Chasing me for making things better. You’re back where you started.”

“Maybe now isn’t the time to act,” Jackson West says. “What if the world could’ve healed on its own and the people you killed might have helped?”

“Fool! They’ve gotten to you, too.”

As Alex’s finger slides onto the trigger, he turns toward Jackson. You don’t hesitate to lunge forward, closing the distance between yourself and Alexander. While you tackle him to the floor, he squeezes the trigger, and the shot rings through the now-silent townhouse and seems to echo for hours as your team watches in horror.

Tim pulls the handcuff key from his belt and passes it to Angela before he crawls on his hands and knees to reach you.

“I hope somebody got scans of that novella before he shot it,” you groan as you sit up.

Tim sighs, taking your face in his hands as he wipes blood from your temple.

“Is his writing really that good?” Jackson asks as he stands.

“It’s a little preachy,” you reply with a smile.

Your phone rings, and you swipe the screen to answer, then immediately hang up.

“That was your boss,” Tim points out.

“He can yell at me when he gets here.”

“Alexander Riley has been charged in the deaths of twelve Los Angeles residents,” JJ says at the press conference the morning after your encounter with Alex. “His victims include Janice Davis, Gregory Hunter, Bryce Keller, Hank Sheller, Peter Bristol, Liza Renner, Mel Houghton, Destiny Crest, Angelica Thomson, Alissa Alvarez, and Jack and Cassidy Wilson. Nearly three dozen cold cases are now being reopened, and the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit supports the LAPD’s claim that Riley could have committed these crimes as well. I’ll welcome any questions at this time.”

You scrunch your nose from the side, resisting the urge to remove the bandage on your forehead. Tim stands beside you, watching you.

Tim notices that the bandage is loose but doesn’t move before Hotch warns, “Don’t do anything in the public view that you don’t want to get out and give Riley a chance at walking.”

When the conference ends, Derek sighs and walks past Hotch to return to the hotel and pack. As he approaches you, he smiles and says, “And you didn’t want to come because I can’t help, and LA is too sunny.”

You try to punch Derek for his poor impression of you but miss as he breaks into a jog. Shaking your head, you turn to Tim and prepare a joke about how you don’t sound like that. Tim’s serious expression stops you, though.

“You didn’t think you could help?” he asks. “You were going to be an amazing cop, and I regret playing a part in taking that opportunity from you.”

You shrug and respond, “I like the FBI, and I got to tackle a murderer, so it all worked out.”

“Yeah,” Lucy interrupts, walking to your side. “But now you have to go back to Virginia.”

“Thank you,” Wade says, stopping at your side. “Come back soon, okay?”

You smile as he hands you a paper. As you read it, you sigh, then shove it into your pocket. The email came in this morning telling all active FBI agents about the new tactical unit, one which will work closely with the BAU. They’re actively recruiting, but if you tell Tim, you’re asking him to choose between you and the job again, and you can’t do that to him. Asking Tim to leave LA would be cruel, you think, so you force a smile onto your face.

“Thank you for everything,” you tell him. “Especially the part where you saved my life and the apology. I’ll try not to stay gone so long this time.”

Tim nods, and you smile at Lucy before following your team. He watches you walk away, ignores Lucy’s encouragement for him to chase you, and waits until you leave to whisper what he wants to say. But Tim lost his chance again. Worse, he lost you again.

Two Weeks Later

“Which one of you wants to die first?” the armed suspect asks, swinging his curved meat hook between you and Spencer.

“Probably you, right?” you whisper. “You know, my blood’ll be on it if he kills me first.”

“The mean value of Staphylococcus aureus in raw meat is 3.84 in a butcher shop,” Spencer replies. “I don’t know where that thing has been. At least your blood has been relatively well contained. And any amount of water on that thing increases the number of bacterial specimens transferred from the meat surface.”

The metal door of the meat locker blows open suddenly, and when the butcher before you turns to see what caused the noise, two men in tactical uniforms subdue him and confiscate the meat hook. Spencer rushes out of the facility, and you watch as the new FBI team takes your suspect into custody.

“I could have done that,” you complain.

“Sure you could, boot,” one of the men says, his voice muffled by the helmet.

You look toward him with your eyebrows raised. He takes his helmet off, and your jaw drops. Tim Bradford.

Smiling, you step toward him with questions racing in your mind, but he extends a gloved hand, holding it against your waist to stop you as he whispers, “Morgan has cameras everywhere.”

As you walk into the BAU bullpen together, Hotch looks up from a paper. He looks at you, then Tim, then back to you, and smiles. With wide eyes, you hide behind Tim’s shoulder, unsure what a Hotch smile could mean in this particular circumstance.

“We’re wheels up to Los Angeles in forty-five,” Hotch says.

“Why?” you ask, stepping out from behind Tim.

“There’s a domestic terrorist leaving Shakespeare at foreign-owned businesses hours before they’re bombed or become mass murder scenes.”

You nod, but before you can speak, Derek calls, “Bring Bradford! We could use the Army experience.”

Hotch narrows his eyes at Tim, then shrugs and agrees.

“Good, good,” you mumble, wrapping your hands around Tim’s arms. “I’ll show him the ropes then and we’ll be back in thirty.”

“Please do.”

You quickly forget the ropes as you drag Tim into Penelope’s empty office. He smiles and prepares to ask what this has to do with terrorism, but you slide your hands onto his jaw and kiss Tim. Finally. Tim's hands meet your waist, and he pulls you closer as he kisses you, both of you melting into one another and getting lost in the moment you’ve waited so long for. When you pull back, Tim keeps you close, smiling like he’s seeing you clearly for the first time, though he’s known your heart and potential for nearly a decade.

A quiet gasp draws your attention, and you both look to the door as Penelope says, “I’m telling Chocolate Thunder!”

[ournachojesus]

Back on death loop AU!

This time it’s 4pm me and not 4am me :)

Warning - This AU will involve talks of murder, torture, abuse, and many more disturbing topics at times.

Now, let me flesh out the first loop. The beginning of it all. Light dies but Ryku’s death note. He hears the bells just as L did. He is bleeding out with the light streaming down, warming his quickly dying body. Dead cold is all he is even with the rays warming the cloth of his clothes. Eyes quickly snapping open, he’s in his bed…? In his parent’s house. The room he lived in for 18 years. Sun still touching his skin but it’s much different. Instead of a warm embrace into death it’s a warm welcome into life.

Now, it takes him a couple seconds to figure out what’s going on (this is the same case for L). It’s not unthinkable to go back in time since gods of death exist. Whats strange is it doesn’t seem related to the powers of a death note or the shingami. Being brought back to life is a little stretch but the reversal of many years is something that needs investigation. On Light’s side of things, he quickly figures out when he was brought back to. He already has the death note. He is brought back to before they start selecting suspects so he hasn’t meet L yet. He smiles, cause yknow, Light is just nuts.

L is back as I stares at the screen at the PC on the floor in front of him. Like he just jolted awake from momentarily falling asleep. The date and time right in front of him on the computer. He basically figures out what’s going on at the same time Light does (split screen moment of them both saying the same conclusion all dramatic). In his crouched position he grips the front of his shirt. He was alive. However, for him it wasn’t like he died and immediately got sent back like how it felt for Light. No, the time that passed after his death mattered. Do you know how it’s semi confirmed that your life literally does flash before your eyes when you die? L for the few years he was dead and Light was alive was stuck within his own memories. Just an observe through his own eyes as he watched from his earliest memory to his death. It’s fuzzy and dream like. When he reached the memory of his death, that’s when the loop occurs.

What happens in the first loop? Light kills L quickly of course. Not right away since he does something before that. Interacting with his family to see if anything change with them compared to when this day originally happened. Some google searches on criminals and Kira. After confirming nothing has changed with him being sent back. He questions Ryku, who thinks Light has gotten crazier than he already was. The shigami has zero idea what he’s talking about. That’s how Light figures out not even the shigami remember. He thinks it’s only him. First instinct is get rid of L, of course L gets what’s going on what he starts having a heart attack, Watari is super worried as he calls for an ambulance and does CPR.

Light is doing his usual ‘I win’ shtick when, BAM. Back in bed… Light takes a second and realizes what that means. Man baby rage on the inside. L on the other hand, smiles. Cause he thinks that means he can basically investigate Light without him being able to end him without resetting everything. So, L is trying to get the evidence he needs and Light is trying to make it so L is dead in not so literal way so he can be Kira. Like get L arrested, discrediting, ruining reputation, all that kind of stuff. At some point during this entire cat and mouse game is Light dying. It either be by Rem or someone with a gun. Loop once more.

Third loop is them reaching the conclusion that this is going to keep happening if either die. So it peace for loop three until Light dies on his death bell day he og died on, Ryku of course does it. During the third loop they basically have this tense relationship of talking to eachother about their lives in great detail, before the loop and during the first + second loop. Not much to say about first loop since it ended really fast. They aren’t sharing so much because they are close in a friendly way (they do like eachother though since they are basically one another’s first REAL friend. Someone that gets them). Info sharing, they are trying to figure out what triggered this to happen and what the rules are besides their deaths. They think that as long as they can get past both dates for their og deaths then it could prevent the loop from restarting or at least give them more information if not. Like will they loop if they die of old age? Unclear to them.

First REAL friend thing is due to both of them not being super attached to others around them, like they like/love their families in some way but it’s not a strong bond. They are obsessed with one another and I think that’s because they finally found someone else they feel a pull to. You ever interact with someone and think “I want to be their friend” or “I want to get to know them”. These boys are feeling that for the first time but at 20x.

That’s all for today. Loop one, two, and three are on the table. I’ll write more on them working together till loop ten. What happens between then and loop twenty is a secret for now. Twenty and fifty is their ‘raising the game’ and ‘WWE smack down’, I’ll explain more on why it last so long and why they do it (coping is part of it). The incidents I talked about will be placed a couple loops after fifty with a slow kind of anxious build up. They break in such slow and horrific ways.

Miss will have her own post. Maybe before the incident post.

[aller-geez]

Bless You

By Levi’s Owner, not sure if she wants her name here ☺️

Please note! She doesn’t have the kink, but dabbles in a LOT of kink spaces that she doesn’t have, and she knows how much I love RemixLevi and wrote this amazing OneShot with permission to share 🥰 it got me GOING I cannot lie. A little sub/dom relationship, snz teasing, public sex in a bathroom, and definitely NSFW 18+ content.

BLESS her heart, she searched the internet for snz spellings too 🥹🥹

please enjoy~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Thomas bus door swung open and inside climbed in a tall, overtly excited man who bounced the entire house as he danced and jumped about. "Babe!!" he cried out looking for his smaller counterpart, emerald orbs scanning quickly around the small space but not immediately seeing the love of his life.

"Im in here," Remi heard a soft muffled voice coming from inside the pile of stuffies on their bed, followed by the soft ambient music of a video game he knew too well, minecraft. The wolf smirked at the pile shaking his head and rolling his emerald green eyes.

"Enrichment time in your enclosure?" he asked casually before the leopard's mop of white and black hairs came popping out through the middle, cheesin.

"How could you guess?" he giggled sliding out of his stuffie cave, putting his game on pause and setting it aside. "Whats up? You look like someone set fireworks off in your pants," he teased, poking his index fingers up and down the man's fairly chiseled, but clothed, abs. Remi swatted at his partner's hands and laughed through his nose.

"Baaaaabe," he rolled his eyes and then grasped both of his lover's wrists in his hands, gently, but it only gave Levi an even more squirrely case of the zoomies.

"Ooo you gonna make me??" he giggled again, tugging and pulling on his hands as the wolf's grip tightened, he sneered at him with lust behind his eyes before pushing their foreheads together gently.

"Why would I reward such bratty behavior? Be still and let me share this good news, maybe Kitten will get some play," he brushed their lips just barely together, a whisper of what a kiss really was, his fiance's face turning bright red, eyes sinking and he nodded ever so slightly with a gentle swallow. "Good boy," Remi patted the side of Levi's face with a light slap, a bit harder than one normally would their partner, but the cat loved abuse. Tingles shot down the leopard's spine as he wiggled to attention.

Standing up straight this time now, fixing his beat up leather jacket and lifting his head held high, Remi spoke "WE, you and me, have a big opportunity tonight, we have dinner with this dude from Wallstreet, he can get me an in and even though I know nothing, and have zero experience he's willing to teach me everything so we can be rolling in the money!" absolutely excited for the chance to be able to pay back tenfold what Levi has done for him the past 5 years, was euphoric, but he immediately sunk in himself when he saw the look on his mate's face. "What's wrong?" he asked cautiously, almost timid. Levi looked down at his hands and twiddled his thumbs, he wasn't sure he had the right words.

He loved Remi, more than words could ever describe, they were soulmates and he hated the idea of him throwing his soul away to work in corporate, worse yet, WALLSTREET. "Honey....wallstreet is where dreams die and lives are ruined at the expense of paper," his artic colored eyes looked up now at Remi's completely crushed face.

"You're not...proud? or ...excited?" Immediately feeling like a pile of the 'worst fiance' ever quickly, the cat threw his hands out in waves.

"No baby, I AM proud of you, and Im so excited that people are willing to see your potential, and that theyre giving you such opportunities to be successful but, this isn't your dream, my love, and I just don't want you to fall back in your progress because you think you HAVE to make millions of dollars to take care of us," he had stood up to face Remi, well, face his chest he was still significantly smaller. Sliding his hands up and down the nervous man's front in a soothing motion to calm him back down, making eye contact again, "I apologize, my love, you know how I can be, I should have had a better pros and cons talk with you after the dinner, I should have just been excited for you," instantly feeling bad for his realism that often rained on Remi's parade.

Leaning down to kiss him in a soft peck, Remi brushed his hand against the younger's cheek and gave him a reassuring smile. "I know you're just thinking about my mental health, I'll always be grateful for that because no one else ever has," their eyes met and they regrouped their emotions by sliding themselves into a deep but disciplined kiss. Before things got handsy, Remi pulled back and bopped the tip of Levi's nose with his long index finger. "Get ready, we can talk more after the dinner and consider the options," nodding his head in agreement, the skinny white haired male lept up and got into action. Remington wants to have a nice fancy dinner with a rich fancy wallstreet man? Fine. No problem. He will just have to create a little "devine intervention" tonight. The two of them immediately started scrounging and scouring to get ready for this opportunity they both had been suddenly blessed with; different motives, but opportunities none the less.

Remington had hopped himself in the shower, Levi had already cleaned himself this morning so he was ready to throw on his clothes, but which would he pick? If he was going to cause some ruckus he was going to need to pull up to all the stops. Out he snaked a pair of leather black tight pants, adorned in black rose lace down the sides of the legs "He looooves these on me," giggling in almost a demonic fashion, he slid whatever he was wearing off, and pulled on the pants, no underwear, cause that would absolutely ruin the aesthetic of exposed lacey flesh on the sides. Levi stood shirtless as he could hear Remi fumbling in the shower with the many bottles of product. Trying hard not to laugh to himself knowing the wolf was probably overly rushing himself, causing panicked chaos in the shower. He was right. The grumpier of the two was absolutely having a terrible time in there.

"ITS SO FUCKING SMALL IN HERE!" the leopard covered his mouth quickly to stifle the laughter threatening to explode from him as his lover shouted from their bathroom. Shaking his head now he went back to his mission of top, and accessories. Plucking it gently from his closet was a light blue silk shirt "Amazing," he kissed the air before sliding that onto his thin frame, looking himself up and down in the long mirror attached to the wall. "Hmmm," he contemplated as he looked himself all around, then tucking his shirt loosely into the pants, and unbuttoned 3 of the buttons to reveal a bit of chest flesh. "Thatll do him," sliding on some black loafers that had the image of a blue iris embroidered on the tops, he began scanning through his jewelry. Remington stepped out, towel over his head as he tried his best to dry out his hair, walking past Levi to the otherside of the bedroom cabin was his side. "Clothes....Clothes...." he started tearing into his closet nervously.

Looking back at his partner from the mirror while adjusting his one diamond earring in, "Honey, wear the beige trench coat with some black, you'll look perfect," the mate said honestly. Remi looked up in his cabinets and considered the suggestion, he pulled out his black straight leg dress pants, they just neatly clug to his legs in all the right places.

Back on the other side of the cabin, while Remi fished for his dress shirt, Levi was linking around his slender neck a sparkling, thin diamond chain and in the middle that sat against his freckled, exposed chest was a wolf's paw print, melded in sterling silver. Last but not least, a silver chain he link around his waist, a long piece connected that draped down his hip. Twirling around and admiring himself in the reflection, he fixed up his hair with some gel, and made his way out of the bedroom so Remi could have the mirror now. Still not paying full attention to what his partner was wearing or even doing, he scampered over to the mirror fixing any mistakes there may be. He had gone with a tucked in black long sleeve button up, shiny black tied dress shoes and ontop of it all was a very expensive looking, light brown long coat that toned in all the black he was wearing. Flicking the lapels of his jacket a few times and running his fingers through his hair, he made finger guns and clicked at his reflection. "Lookin good brother," he offhandedly said to himself before exiting the bedroom.

Bent up against the front door, keys dangling from the tip of his finger he licked his teeth, canines more specifically, he had dazzled in gems. Remi stopped in his tracks, gazing vertically at his mate, feeling a wave of possessiveness boil through him. "No," he said immediately. "You can't wear that, it'll have me in heat all god damn night, No!" his face flushed as he tried to keep his eyes off, but could only keep them locked on.

"Remington, You know far too well this isn't a fight you'll win so grab the keys to Ethel and lets get going," he stuck his tongue out over at his man, who in turn rolled his eyes, squeezed the bridge of his nose and sighed in frustration.

"Its going to be a rough night for me I can tell," swiping the hunk of keys off the counter, Levi snorted.

"You never know~" his tone said, innocent, like 'oh trust the universe itll bring good things' but it had been far too long with his mate to know from that very instant, the man was up to no good, and Remi was already quaking in his shoes. They followed each other out, locked up Maybelle and got going in Ethel, which Remi had pretty much turned into his studio room with added storage space for his things. They were working up a way to create space for a bed somehow, for nights he has to be away from Levi for whatever reasons.

It wasnt a very long drive from the park they were currently staying at, out to the city, and eventually, restaurant. However, they did get very, very crusty side ways looks from the rich folks watching Remi drive into the lot with his van. "Bunch of prudes," Levi scoffed as he folded his arms against his chest. He hated rich white people, always so concerned with what everyone else has going on. Remi chuckled at his comment, he didn't give a shit. Look at him whichever way, however way you please, as far as he's concerned, with Levi by his side, his sister safe and the world back to being enjoyable, inbred rich people opinions couldnt touch him.

Parking the vehicle, both men got out of the van and walked up to the podium that said Reservations. "Remington for 3," the towering raven haired man said firmly, eyeing the employee down. Giggling softly, Levi grabbed onto Remi's hand and leaned himself against his partner's side, eyes judging the sweating employee infront of them. Clearly this establishment wasnt used to people like them whether that be gay, or just not visibly rich.

"Right this way gentlemen..." the usher said carrying them to a table with a much older, clean cut looking sir already seated, and scanning through the menu with a bottle of merlot sitting beside his half full glass. "Here is your table, please enjoy," the waiter bowed and left two more menus behind for them. Like the true knight in shining armor he was, Remington pulled one of the chairs out slightly for his fiance to sit at, Levi taking the gesture and letting his man push him in as well. "Good to meet you, I'm Remington, hope you don't mind me seating my partner first," extending a strong calloused hand out to the business man who smiled brightly and shook it enthusiastically. "No problem, at all, Good to meet ya! I'm Bill," he introduced himself cheerfully as they all were now seating themselves comfortably and glancing around the table. "This is my fiance, soulmate and partner in crime, Levi Anderson," the leopard extended a hand across the table as to shake Bill's already waiting hand.

"Pleasure," the shortest of the three said charmingly. The men began to discuss things as men do, but it was Levi's biggest shot now. Guards were down, ideas were flowing, plans were being made, if he didn't act fast, his lover was going to get smooth talked straight into hell through the promise of money and good benefits. The waiter came by silently, dropping off a charcuterie board for the table and leaving, Levi spotted his opportunity. As Remi continued to talk business with this plain old man, Levi was coveting some of the crackers to hide the fact he was also grabbing the pepper shaker. Looking around him to make sure he wasnt going to get caught doing such a childish thing in such a fancy establishment, but he dumped some on his cracker and brought it to his lips, without being noticed he silently, and secretly, snorted it up his nose. The second he did, it forced its way out from him like a volcanic eruption, no time to prepare, only react.

"HET-CHU!!~" He sniffled his nose, before another wave hit him. "cHU!~"

*Thadump* a sound Levi knew, so very intimately. Remi's heart beating loudly.

'No....No he wouldnt...' Remi flushed trying to swallow the sexual anguish he felt after hearing his partner break into sneeze, shifting ever so slightly in his seat to remain calm, to keep himself in check.

"Are you alright over there?" Bill asked concerned with the sudden series of sniffles, sliding an inch away, cautious of a virus.

"Oh..yes, I just have really bad allergies," he said sheepishly tucking a piece of loose hair behind his ear, his voice inflected to sound more stuffed up than he usually would be after two sneezes. The older man nodded turning back to Remi, who dead eyed his mate that only returned his gaze with a sly wink.

'That sadistic little shit....oh he's going to get it whe-' staring blankly at the man who was prattling on in front of him before his thought was shattered by the sound of yet another sneeze. 'Keep it together Rem...' his groin twitched.

"eh-TSH-eh!" Levi snuffled and rubbed his nose into the napkin in small circles, pulling it away, a bead of sweat started to slip down the side of Remi's face. Bill not noticing a single thing wrong as he boasted about his career and accomplishments, all the things he could do for Remi. All Remi could concentrate on was all he could do to Levi in this very moment. Would he go to jail if he just ravaged him here?

"TSHOO!" Levi tried to hold that one in halfway to give it a more dramatic effect. He knew it was sending waves of electricity down the wolf's spine, he wiggled in his seat. His baby blues blinking gently in the direction of his tortured lover.

"Hey, Remi arent you going to offer your fiance a hand or something?" Bill looking over between the two of them, Remi's soul completely out of his body due to the position he was currently in.

"I- Uh, yes I uhm....honey?" He held out his bare hand to Levi, brain completely not registering what he was even offering, Bill cocked an eyebrow, even the leopard looked slightly confused, but taking it anyway and then letting out another one, gentlier this time, nothing crazy flying out, just hot ridged breath in between his long shaking fingers. "ESHUH~" it came out almost high pitched in sound, too cute to the wolf's ears, his cock started to pump full of blood. The sensation of feeling such a gentle action, the sound, the absolute publicness of this display, it was so entirely naughty. They both clearly knew between the two of them, what was really going on. While Bill laughed out loudly and threw himself back with his hands on his stomach.

"I LIKE him! Funny guy you have yourself promised to here," he slapped Remi on the side of the arm who tensed up and snapped his gaze back to reality.

"Oh I- uh...Yeah, he sure is something isnt he?" joking along nervously, the dark haired man was lucky that this old rich idiot was far too concerned with his ego to notice how absolutely rock solid and flustered he was. Slamming his fist on the table he coughed "We should order right? Food? That would be good..." He muttered scanning the menu lazily trying with every last inch of his soul to distract himself.

"Oh yes I'd love a clam cho-OWCHUH!" the white haired adonis male was interupted again by yet another violent sternutate. "Terribly sorry, don't mind me I'll just have to excuse myself to the....restroom, I'd like a clam chowder bread bowl," ordering as he stood up, glared at his partner to follow him, and continued his journey to the back bathrooms. While Bill's attention was on Levi to remember the order, Remi quickly snagged the pepper shaker, shoveling it into his pocket before he too stood up. "Yeah, I gotta piss, steak, rare, thanks, I'll be right back, so sorry," he excused himself as Bill waved him off without a care in the world, or concern on his plate.

The second, the absolute milisecond Remi pushes past the doors of the restroom and locates his partner's shoes in the correct stall, he practically peels the door off its hinges. "You think you're clever dont you??" He shouts in a whispered fashion incase anyone comes in.

"What do you mean, my lover?" playing it completely innocent in high brat fashion, cornering himself against the wall of the handicapped stall. The wolf loomed closer, each step of his shoe echoed within the chambers of the bathroom itself. Diamond eyes traced every move up the masculine man's body, stopping at the slightly enraged, but completely passion stricken facial expression.

"Oh? Oh we want to act like I'm stupid?" Raising a thin black eyebrow as he walked himself an inch away from Levi's face, "You've been playing with fire all night, my naughty little kitten, and now you're going to be punished, severely," He gripped Levi by a fist full of hair, knuckles white, Levi's eyes forced open by the pressure, mouth cocked.

"Hng~" The leopard whimpered softly, legs buckling underneath the sheer dominance of his mate. "D-daddy please I didnt mean to upset you..." his lips quivered but it was too late, the black haired man ran his tongue up the smaller's thin, etched neck, nipping at the line of his jaw. A whisper of a moan came bursting from out of Levi's vocals, like music to Remi's ears, but that wasn't what he wanted to hear tonight in this bathroom with amazing acoustics. While Levi's head is pulled back he takes the shaker in his other hand and swiftly brings it up to the man's nostirls. "NNnNGh~ AHHH~~~ EHhHhHhCHTUUU~!" Levi sneezes loudly, aggressively, suddenly into the side of Remi's face, echoing inside his ear drum, unhinged, uninterupted, bouncing off the walls and giving him a second helping.

"Mmm you wanted to entertain, so you're going to entertain me.....unleash it," he referenced, grinding his painfully erect dick up against the younger through the painful fabric of his pants. Wasting no time while head cocked in position backward, he still expertly found his way to his partner's belt unclinking it. "Give Daddy another, come on, be good for him now," He said gripping tighter against Levi's thick hair, between the pepper, the position of his face against the ceiling lighting, he didnt stand a single chance.

"etSHU! ET-SHU! EHTSHU-EH!" it came out in a series, as they spilled into the air around them, Remi forced the afflicted one just under his ear at the crook of his neck by the nap of his hair, instead of pulled backward, he wanted to intake every last reverberation through his core. Levi's hand fumbled its way past his waist band, through every inch of fabric to touch hot, throbbing flesh in his palm.

"Oo-fu-fuck," Remi hissed beside Levi's ear, the leopard's own pants feeling relatively too tight, but as in true punishment fashion, knew he was not the focus of this particular event. He was in big, big trouble. "Now, now, don't be shy," whispering in a sultry dark tone. "Don't stop," huffing faster now as Levi slid the pad of his thumb through the wolf's tip. "Hnngg..." strained now as he forced the shaker back over into Levi's nostrils.

"EH-TSHU!" this one rocked his body forward, eyes watering and tears starting to streak down his face, the tip of his nose cherry red, and his hand stuttering in his strokes as they got faster but sloppier. "Please.....TsHO...."Another, smaller sneeze. Emerald orbs disappeared through the back of Remi's skull as the hand on his cock twitched under Levi's skilled but nonmetrical fingers that worked to squeeze and pump him.

"Little more, kitten," he gasped low, guttural, deep from within his throat, Levi's own eyes rolled back from heated pleasure. They were rutting and rubbing up against each other in an animalistic, heated fashion, complete desperation for the both of them in this moment, who knows or cares if Bill was even still out there waiting. They were lost in this moment. The cat glanced to the side up at the light shining from the ceiling and it triggered one last...

"ACHOOO~" Levi's hand clasped tightly around his lover's leaking member, between the pressure of that and the sound of his mate's last big sneeze, he came, hard into's Levi's hand and down his shiny black leather pants, which would be a crime if Levi had the concentration to care. As he was still absolutely wasted off lust from being completely used in this fancy restroom. Remi, coming down from the high of his orgasm slumped lazily against the wall and his partner, catching his breath and trying to find the capacity to have logical thought once again.

Both of the men took a minute to cool off, to breathe. However, once Remi was recouped he had Levi tugging at his coat. "You're just going to use me, mess me up and leave me like this?" whining gently followed by a pouty lip as he pointed down to his own throbbing issue, and the spooge on his pants.

"Oh...Baby," Remi pouted back in a gentle tone that immediately changed into a devilish grin. "Yes I am," sticking his tongue out like the evil revenge master he was. "That'll teach you to rile me up like that in PUBLIC during important meetings,"

"I-...Bu--t....I-...Yo-..." He stuttered standing there flabbergasted as he fluttered back and forth.

"Bless you," he kissed the dumbfounded man on the sweaty forehead, before fixing his pants, buckle, and stepping out confidently. Leaving his partner behind to clean himself up and to maybe reconsider messing with a wolf.

[dykoluv]

"PU-239"

I have to start like this before truly going head first into this. Gorgeous. Simply fucking gorgeous. And this doesn't apply only to my liking for the Soviet and Post Soviet era of Russia, it applies to human and their behaviors.

Pu-239, or originally known as The Half Life of Timofey Berezin, is a British drama, released in 2006 that follows the tangled story of two men. Timofey and Shiv.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

!! SPOILERS AHEAD !!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's only right we start with Timofey. In his case, recklessly thinking that he can leap to prevent a critical malfunction within the nuclear power point, he is exposed to radiation. The blame - as it's always expected with the Russians - was placed on him. Forced to comply with his manager, Timofey is given the truth by a colleague of his. The numbers he was given were low, 100 rem, but in reality he was exposed to 1000 rem.

His days were counted. Each second was his last.

Left only to worry for his family - Marina and Tolya - he decides to do the extreme. Telling Marina that a job awaits for him in Moscow, he leaves. She trusts him, of course, but asks for a kiss. One that would be their last too.

Of course, there is no job, but despair. Coming up with a plan, Timofey returns to his workplace only to steal Plutonium-239 with the intention of selling it. From here on out his story gets tangled with Shiv's.

Now this man is chaotic to the max, he's some kind of a gangster that is bad at being a gangster. Always belittled by those he works with led him to yearns to prove himself.

Now to ground our setting a bit more, were in post Soviet Russia, a few years after it's dissolution. Of course as capitalism bloomed, the mafia's ways returned with their protection fees.

The gang Shiv is part of isn't the most brilliant one, as all 3 together couldn't properly remember an address, and they accidently blow up a shop that is under different protection from a different mafia head. This forces them to pay the damages, not in rubles, but in dollars. They go through their mischiefs trying to make a quick buck only to take separated ways, leaving Shiv alone to find his half of the required money.

Finally, our two meet in a flea market in Moscow. Timofey simply holding a sign that says pu-239 gets Shiv's attention, sparking his curiosity. Seeing that Shiv had no clue what was at stake, Timofey almost gives up on trying to explain. Shiv being insistent tells him that no one will buy whatever he's selling without help. And such the two embark together on their wild ride. By now Timofey is abruptly feeling worse and worse but pushes through. Only for his son sake.

Going from mafia head to mafia head, they fail to get a proper number, as both have no interest in some nuclear weapon.

Defeated, Timofey asks Shiv for one last ride to the train station, at which Shiv promises he'll do it only to drive to one of the mafia's private party. There, he's plead and insistence is reaching a limit, getting him shot twice. Timofey hardly manages to drag him out of the way, leaving him between cars. With their plan over, and minutes until he'd collapse, he takes his leave only to be attacked by Shiv's "work partners" and shot dead.

In the aftermath, his wife Marina is left to ask for her rights, which she gains. Leaving the country with their son.

"Light is a particle and a wave. This is hard to understand how a thing can be two things at once; but a woman is also both a particle and a wave. She's a wave when you see her reach down to pull a shell from the sea, and you feel her beauty pass through you like electrical current. She's a particle when her hair brushes your face, and her hands push into yours. And a child is also a particle and a wave. He is a wave the sound of his pain shoots through and twists you away from yourself. And he is a particle when a doctor hands you a baby; a small mirror. Women, children and light can be two things at once; a particle, a wave. They ricochet off the hard surfaces and illuminate the corners. Without them it would be far darker."

(Timofey explaining the light, something recurrent in the movie)

Now that I've laid down a summary, I want to talk about the way Timofey was written. Through the whole movie his voice is above everyone. He's a troubled soul that thinks too much and feels too much. And he's not afraid to say it. Paddy Considine, who played Timofey, did a wonderful job capturing the amount of emotions the character was going through. Pain, agaony, everything was there. You could feel the pain through the screen, behind the beautifully colored scenes and grainy look. You could see Timofey dying.

Oscar Isaac who played Shiv did just as good with portraying all the confusion and thoughts that went through Shiv's mind. At first I found it hard to believe he'd actually want this life of crimes, always second guessing the orders given, apologizing at every chance. This wasn't what he wanted to do, but rather what he had to survive.

Oddly, out of all things, their characters were drawn together by one thing. The well being of their sons.

In the end, the movie was on spot on inflicting feelings into the watchers. And perhaps making us understand the reasoning behind those actions.

Despair.

[ffxiv-swarm]

prompt 5: barbarous

The Garlean Empire had ruled Ala Mhigo for twenty years. They had built bridges, roads, airship landings. True, it had nothing on the glory of Regio Urbanissima, that shining steel city where the lights never dimmed, but they had built the place up. They had civilized it. Surely they had.

Tiber pyr Gallius stopped in the middle of his patrol to once again scrape chocobo dung off his boot and wondered why he was even bothering. Nothing in Ala Ghiri was paved. The constant wind ensured that dust and dirt was already ruining the armor he’d just polished that morning, and he’d be lucky if he didn’t have to add blood to the mix again.

(He shouldn’t have lost his temper. But that woman had looked so—so dead inside already, and he’d told his troops that if they messed with the Aan it would be the last thing they ever did, and now Gaius oen Ferrarius was dead and, honestly? Good riddance.)

(But it had taken a long time for him to stop seeing red when he blinked.)

A fly buzzed around his head, and he crushed it against the side of a building with a grimace. He never had to deal with insects back home. (Well, almost never.)  Here, they were everywhere because nobody bothered to clean up the trash, simply throwing it into alleys or down pits to fester. That was to say nothing of the plumbing, which was...nonexistent. He was pretty sure there were buckets involved and had no desire to find out. Truly, this savage land was a filthy place.

“Hey, Gallius!”

Ugh. Arvina. He aimed a polite smile at the big Roegadyn. “Finished with your patrol?”

Grynewaht pyr Arvina made a face. “Ugh. Guess so. But by the Emperor, ‘tis like shepherdin’ a bunch of mice. I ain’t got a single chance to pull out my new chainsword in weeks! Don’t suppose you’ve had any better luck?”

Luck. Because to men like Arvina, terrorizing the locals was sport. He kept his face perfectly smooth, thanking the Emperor he’d been so good at theater in secondary school. “You ought to be thankful that it is quiet. It gives us a chance for a smoke break before Pilus rem Lupis arrives, does it not?”

Grynewaht scoffed, but his face said he knew Tiber was right. “Aye, it would. Shame I’m out. You got some?”

No, he thought firmly, but obligingly snapped open his cigarette case—brushed steel, stamped with the Imperial chains—and handed a man he loathed precisely one cigarette. Good Garlean tobacco was almost more precious than gold out here in the provinces, but in this instance it was a worthy sacrifice. If Grynewaht was relaxing against a stone wall with a lit cigarette in the corner of his mouth, contemplating the sky, he wasn’t out knocking over merchants’ stalls or picking a fight with the exceptionally strapping young man unloading crates at the far end of the block.

(...There were some good points to being stationed out here. The tendency of local men to not wear much in the way of shirts, for one, even if it did make it a struggle for him to maintain eye contact when he had to actually talk to them.)

Unfortunately, smoking didn’t prevent Grynewaht from talking. “Bloody savages,” he muttered. “Look at ‘em. They don’t know how good they’ve got it! They were livin’ in mud huts before we came along...”

Tiber took a deep lungful of smoke before he could say something he’d wind up regretting. We rule them by strength of arms and the might of our magitek, and worse—we do it badly. If you call them savages for living without the benefits of modern medicine and food and infrastructure, ‘tis our fault. Not theirs.

Never theirs.

[dragonmuse]

in wmits does Pete have any interactions with Charlie and Izzy.

(He has a very few times, but they are...notable. Here’s the very first) 

The knock came while Lucius was still in the shower. Apparently Lucius' definition of ‘2ish’ did not match theirs.  Pete was still in his pajamas, but whatever. They were coming to borrow his husband, they could deal with his plaid flannel pants and ancient t-shirt. 

“Just a sec!” He called out and muted the tv before getting up. 

He opened the door and was confronted by one hell of a sight. He’d met Charlie before, of course. Had even seen Izzy from across the room more than once. In both cases, it has been several years ago and not for very long and certainly not dressed for a date. 

Pete went a little dry-mouthed and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

Charlie was in artfully torn, sinfully tight, dark wash jeans  that showed off strips of a muscled thigh, a burnt orange  t-shirt that was asymmetrically cropped to tease the reveal of a toned stomach and slender hips, all under a cuffed brown blazer. He had gold hexagon sunglasses, the lenses tinted a muted purple, shoved up high on his head.  

Standing to his left and a little behind was Izzy. He’d let his hair grow out and it was loose around his face, a mane of black and silver threads. His clothes looked less expensive and showed almost no skin, black jeans, black t-shirt, black leather jacket, but they were all very right and the t-shirt had a v-neck that revealed a chunky silver chain that dipped suggestively between his pecs.

“Hi,” Charlie dragged his eyes over Pete in a way that he could practically feel on his skin. “Can Lucius come out and play?” 

“Come in,” Pete took a step back to let them in. “He’s still in the shower. Should be wrapping up.” 

Izzy gave him an acknowledging nod, following in Charlie’s footsteps as they came inside. 

“Love the windows,” Charlie declared, tossing himself on the couch like he lived there, long legs stretching for miles in front of him.  

“Thanks, it’s a solid place. Hard to find apartments with enough light,” Pete said gamely. He watched as Izzy circled the room instead of settling.  “Get either of you something to drink?” 

“Do you have anything caffeinated?” Charlie asked. “Preferably diesel fuel.” 

“There’s coke?” 

“Yeah,” Charlie grinned at him, showing off a line of perfect white teeth. “Please.” 

“Izzy?” 

 “I’m good.” The man circled a last time and then sat down beside Charlie. Those long legs folded over his lap in an instant, slotting them together. Izzy's hand dropped to exposed skin on Charlie's thigh, two fingers slotting underneath fabric. Okay then. 

“You in town long?” Pete asked, as he poured the glass.  

“Just two days,” Charlie went on smiling at him. “Got to talk to some accountants. The boring kind.” 

“I am the boring kind,” Izzy contended. 

“Not when you’re doing my taxes,” Charlie laughed. The shower shut off abruptly, the pipes giving their habitual clang. 

“Luc mentioned you changed businesses,” Pete recalled. “How’s that treating you?” 

“Better hours,” Izzy shrugged. “Less travel. Make my own schedule.” 

“And you still get to strike fear in the hearts of men,” Charlie said. 

“Here,” Pete handed Charlie his glass which he took with a nod of thanks. “Sounds like an upgrade then. How about you Charlie? How’s the dissertation coming?” 

“Never ask someone in the middle of a dissertation how it’s going,” Charlie advised, a wrinkle coming to his nose.

“Sorry?” Pete considered his options and decided against sitting with them on the couch. He perched on the arm of John’s chair instead. 

“It's actually...not fine, but getting there,” Charlie shrugged. “I'm hoping to defend in May. And then I get to try to convince someone to publish it as a book.” 

“That likely?” Pete asked, bewildered. 

“It is,” Izzy answered for him. 

“You don’t get to decide that,” Charlie said, his smile starting to edge back into place. 

“It’s good work and you know it.” 

The bathroom door opened, “Babe, do you remember where I left my- oh.”  

Lucius stood in the doorway, steam rolling out behind him. He only had the towel slung around his waist and his razor in hand. Pete watched his body language shift wildly. His posture straightened, his hips canted, his chin raised fractionally. The towel sank an inch.  Charlie and Izzy’s attention was on him immediately. Hungry eyes. 

“You’re early,” he observed. 

“It’s 2,” Izzy said sharply. 

“Uh huh,” Lucius raked a gaze over him. “And I said ish. Ish isn’t on time. So sit tight a mo. I’ve got to finish freshening up.  Sweetie, have you seen my body lotion?” 

“Frenchie borrowed it,” Pete recalled. “I’ll grab it for you.” 

“Thanks.” 

When Pete found the bottle in Frenchie’s hoard, he waited a few beats, catching his breath. He couldn’t say why he felt unsettled exactly. They hadn’t actually done anything except walk in and sit down, but his nerves prickled. When he turned up with the lotion, Lucius was already half-dressed in their room. 

“Thanks. I’m going to pack an overnight bag, can I-” 

“Yeah, I’ll get it,” Pete laughed. “I’m getting you your own for your birthday.” 

“Wouldn’t be the same,” Lucius told him lightly. “I like it because it’s yours.” 

“And the pockets.” 

“And the pockets,” Lucius agreed. 

The bag was in the hall closet, more skirting around and avoiding the twosome on the couch, who were now talking about something low tones, apparently entirely unbothered about being ignored. Pete got the duffel bag he’d picked up ages ago. He mostly used it when he had something too big for a gig to fit in his regular one. It was functionally Lucius’ at this point, even if he wouldn’t admit it.    Pete delivered it to him and Lucius already had everything ready to stuff into it. 

“Did you delay on purpose?” Pete realized. 

“Little bit,” Lucius mumbled. 

“Why?” 

“Trust me. Any tiny bit of one up I can get with them, I take,”  he said wryly.  

“That seems...” 

“I know,” Lucius gave him a rueful shrug. “Anyway, I’m packed.” 

“All right,” Pete opened the door for him. Lucius paused in the doorway, leaning down to kiss him.

 “I love you.” 

“If I didn’t believe that before I would today,” Pete said quietly, aware that the couch was only ten feet away. 

“Why do you say that?” Lucius’ voice pitched up. 

“Because now I’ve met them and know you come home to me anyway.” 

“Oh, babe,” Lucius touched his forehead to Pete’s. “Of course I do.”  

“I know, I know, but I usually don’t see your picks,” he rubbed a hand over Lucius’ hip. “They’re...something.” 

“You two almost done?” Charlie asked. “It’s cute, but we’ve got tickets. Although....you know, if you want to come along Pete, I’m sure we could-” 

“No, Charlie,” Lucius said firmly without moving an inch. 

Pete figured he was being poked, but when he glanced over, Charlie was just giving him a frank appraising look. That should be flattering. Instead, Pete just shifted uneasily. 

“Just saying,” Charlie shrugged. 

“Pete is one of the world’s precious resources: an actual monogamous person,” Lucius gave his bicep a gentle squeeze. “Leave him alone.” 

“Well, if you change your mind...” 

“Awful,” Lucius huffed, giving Pete another very serious kiss, before pulling away. “I’m ready.” 

“Sure?” Izzy gave him a look. 

“Oh, the passive-aggressive burn,” Lucius rolled his eyes. “Did you have to be patient for whole minutes?” 

“It was at least ten,” Charlie grinned. “Horrible agonies, just  waiting for your attention.” 

And without much more warning than that, they were on their feet, bookending Lucius. Charlie wound an arm around his waist, Izzy just getting very very close.  Charlie leaned in, pressed a kiss to his neck, 

“Love a clean shave,” Charlie said warmly. “Right, Iz?” 

Izzy offered no opinion, just put a hand to the small of Lucius’ back and propelled them both to the door.  

When it closed behind them, Pete exhaled shakily. They’d taken up a lot of space, he realized. Expanding out to fill the place. He decided to put it aside and concentrate on what he’d intended to do with his solo day (watch a baseball game while going through his makeup case and tossing the expired stuff).  He made it as far as turning the volume back up on the TV when his phone pinged. 

Unknown number: don’t worry, we’re not interested in pulling the angel out of heaven. But if you ever change your mind, you should come dance with us in the flames. 

Pete stared into space for a long minute. 

Pete: think i’m good. 

Unknown number:  L gave me this number for ‘emergencies only’. But that only works if you know I have it. 

Pete: i know now. 

He added it to his contacts with a sigh. 

Charlie:  if one follows this extended metaphor of ours.... I think that makes you god. Isn’t that interesting? 

Pete: just Pete.  

Charlie: no fun

Hours and hours later, his phone pinged again. John and Frenchie were home now, and they’d all had dinner which settled Pete into normal Sunday mode. All was well, just like any night Lucius was out for the night. Pete was in bed, finishing the last of the sports section of the paper and contemplating an early night.  He picked up the phone. 

Charlie: [thumbnail of a video]  for the reluctant god  

Fucking hell, the kid was a menace. Pete tapped the video, prepared for just about anything. But instead of being confronted by any manner of horrors, it was Lucius in a crowded bar. There was a man Pete didn’t recognize talking to him and Lucius looked deathly bored. Izzy was beside him, but facing the bar instead of outward. Presumably was holding the camera. 

“I’m married,” Lucius announced. 

“Oh,” the man cut a glance to Izzy. “To him?” 

Lucius laughed, “Absolutely the fuck not.” 

“My delicate feelings, angel,” Izzy said dryly. Or something like that, the audio wasn’t clear enough to be sure. 

“Hey,” Charlie’s voice was loud, clearly closest to the mic as he filmed this moment. “He’s A+ husband material.” 

“I don’t do grades,” Lucius grinned at Charlie.   “My approval is pass/fail and you both fail the vibe check.” 

“What about me?” The man asked and Charlie made a disgusted noise. 

“You are a fail. With flying colors. Buh-bye.” 

The man looked between the three of them and wisely disappeared off the screen. 

“Do we actually fail?” Charlie asked, pout clear in his voice. 

“Don’t fish for compliments, demon.” 

“What should I fish for instead?” 

The video cut out.  

Pete: don’t need proof. I know him. 

Charlie: you’ve got faith.  What a rare quality. 

Pete: you don’t? 

Charlie: more than I know what to do with. 

How did one respond to that? Instead, Pete switched contacts. 

Pete: hope you know he was filming you. 

There was a very long silence. Pete had turned off the light and lay down when the phone pinged. 

Lucius:  We've discussed it and that won’t be repeated. Sorry, babe. 

Pete: no worries. You good? 

Lucius: Yes. Sleep well. Love you. 

Pete: love you too 

And a minute after that. 

Charlie: faithful and loyal. I’ve been ousted from the bedroom, thanks so much. 

Pete:  sure you’ll figure a way back in

Charlie: I will. But for now, it was good meeting you today. I think we’ll be talking again. 

A promise? A threat? Pete set the phone down carefully. Either way, it was probably nothing. Just posturing and bullshit. But it did take him a while to fall asleep.

[ilove-cedricdiggory]

'M not going anywhere.

Remus x Reader

Requested? - It's part 3!

Summary - After leaving Remus, you found yourself with family in the horribly hot state of Texas. What can come of you now? With friends with worries the size of the state and a heart almost as broken as they come, what on earth can you do with yourself with the man shows up - only, in his werewolf state?

Trigger Warning - cursing, mentions of abortion

Guide - (y/m/n) - Your middle name

This one has a lot of backstory in it, fair warning! It's not super action filled, but the next chapter will be up soon!

When you met Remus, you were in school with him. You had known all about the infamous Maurauders and their love for trouble, but didn't really see much of them. Well, you thought you hadn't. You had seen each of them separately, James was in potions with you, Sirius had been in Care of Magical Creatures with you, Peter in Transfiguration, but Remus, well, you didn't think you had him in anything until 4th year. Separately, you thought they were all good people, kind to you in classes, funny when the lesson was droning on, and calm enough to let you get your notes finished within reasonable time.

By fourth year, you had gotten used to each of the three boys separately. When you met Remus in Charms, hanging out with him as a Prefect while walking through the hallways, then outside of your duties together and with the rest of your friends, it came as a surprise at how different he acted with the three boys.

He was always so incredibly kind, so beautiful with his words to you, so when your feelings for him grew substantially, it didn't seem to surprise you. But, when he actually asked you out in fifth year, with the major confirmation of his friends that, yes, Moony, she's crazy for you! Everyone besides you can see it! Just ask her!, You found yourself speechless.

The Remus Lupin liked you back, and was asking you to your own date this Saturday. Then another one in the Astronomy tower on Tuesday night while everyone else was at dinner. Then Friday at the quidditch game, he asked if you'd sit next to him during the game where he actually held your hand.

Date after date after date had you grinning from ear to ear when he finally asked you to be his girlfriend. Kiss after kiss after kiss had you falling in love with him a little bit more each time you pulled apart and opened your eyes just a second before he did, seeing his face in pure bliss.

When you both finally did admit your love for each other was the day you admitted you had known about Moony long before he told you - which had been on your fourth date on the quidditch pitch, laying on a blanket under the stars.

"I love the stars. Something so far away can still shine that bright." You mumbled, cuddling closer to his warm frame. He was always so warm.

"I don't care much for the night." He admitted, his voice a mumble.

"Remus John Lupin, why on earth do you not like the night? It's so peaceful and breathtaking. The night gives you unlimited possibilities." You had now turned to your side, your elbow propping your head up as you tangled your legs with his.

"You wanna know the truth?" he asked you, which had honestly surprised you. Of course you wanted to know the truth. "Well, why would I want you to lie to me, Rem? Especially about something that you don't care for." Your right hand lifted to run through his hair, fluffing it and leaving it sticking up slightly.

"I don't like the moon." You nodded, showing you were listening to him. "It controls me." He whispered, closing his eyes.

"How does the moon control you?" You knew the answer to your own question, having put two and two together in your fourth year, the night he had swapped prefect duties with the Ravenclaw boy he was just telling you he didn't trust the week before. When you had arrived back in your room, feeling a little hurt at his actions, you looked out your window to see the full moon shining down on the earth, it's glow filling up a bit of the forbidden forest enough for you to see a few creatures running along the sides. A stag, a dog, and a rat? Then you heard it, the long howl filling the quiet. Somehow, you're not sure exactly how, but it all clicked in you faster than you could have blinked.

Prongs - A stag. Padfoot - A dog. Wormtail - A rat. And most importantly, Moony - A werewolf.

You didn't ever bring it up, but with each month, pieces fell right into place. Now, you laid with the man himself, holding his deepest secret in your heart without him even knowing you held it.

"Y/n, as much as I wish I didn't have to tell you this, if I want our relationship to get anywhere, I know I have to." He sighed, his eyes staying closed, refusing to see your reaction. "I'm a werewolf." You let out a fake gasp, your hand leaving his hair to trace one of the scars on his forehead.

"I- I'm sorry." You whispered, your eyes staying on his. "You're sorry you don't wanna date me anymore?" He quizzed you, finally opening his eyes to face you. This caused you to let out a small chuckle, shaking your head. "Rem, why on earth would I not wanna date you anymore?" Your hand moved back to his hair, your nails scratching softly at his scalp. "I could hurt you, y/n." He spoke, his voice soft and full of fear.

"Remus, you've known me for a year now. You could have hurt me any other full moon, what would us dating change? It's not like I'm going to follow you out into the woods when you shift. It's not like I'm going to go out searching for you when you are out in your wolf form. It means I'd get to kiss each wound when you come back. It means I'd get to hold you in my arms and read to you every once in a while. It means I'd get to go on cute dates and make you bake with me in the kitchens. You being a wolf doesn't change anything." You shrugged nonchalantly, smiling up at him.

That night, Remus kissed you. He kissed you almost a thousand times. He kissed you so much that, when you woke up the next morning, your lips were still swollen.

After you and Remus had really been a couple for a while, you had realized how much he loved to sniff you. You didn't know if it was the Remus in him, or the Moony in him, but it didn't really bother you. You loved smelling him, why would it be so weird if he smelled you? If you were cuddling, his nose would burry in your hair, or your neck, or your chest, and he'd slowly inhale your scent to calm himself down.

If you were walking down the hallways, he bring your intertwined hands to lay a soft kiss on it before inhaling your scent, kissing it once more, then bringing them back down to sway as you walked.

If he had a horrible day, a bad full moon, or just felt off, he'd search the entire grounds until he found you, look your right in your eyes as he walked right to you, grab you by your waist, and pull you into him to hug you as tightly as he could, inhaling your intoxicating scent for himself.

This had caused you to start leaving a piece of your clothing in the bag they took with them when he turned, so he'd have something with him he could smell that reminded him of you. You were never sure if it helped or not, you never asked him and he never brought it up, but it gave you a sense of comfort each full moon.

But now, standing in front of the wolf himself, watching as his snout lifted into the air and took a deep inhale, well, it didn't exactly comfort you.

Which is why, with your eyes set on him, you reached down and into your boot, gripping onto the end of your wand, before pulling up and sending out two purple balls of light, each of them shooting into both of the houses around you.

This hadn't fazed him, for his eyes were still set on you, as he took a step closer. Before you had time to react, a dog had shot infront of you, growling at the creature before you. Right as he stepped, Moony bent down and growled at Sirius, but his a tone deeper and dripping with a warning.

It must have surprised Sirius, for he whimpered and stepped backwards, closer to your frame, which didn't help his case for Moony then snapped at him, stepping closer to him.

"Sirius, get behind Y/n." Your grandfather had stepped out his face door in a rush, his eyes taking in the scene before him. "Sirius, get behind Y/n and get into the house." Sirius whined at the older man, not wanting to leave you alone.

"Lily is in labor." You called to the man, watching him nod. "Sirius, if you run six blocks east, there is a small cottage. It's blue with white shutters on the left side. That's the healer closest to us. She'll come." This got Sirius to move, quickly rushing out of the gated yards.

"Now, y/n, he's not going to hurt you. I've only ever seen this once, but he recognizes your scent and the scent of your kids. It's kinda like he's sensing a mate with you because of your kids. Just stay calm. I'm surprised he hasn't already tackled you to the ground. Just, slowly sit down and let him come to you."

The last thing you expected of this night was the situation at hand, but now, you were sitting on the cold rocks, slightly shivering, your best friend in labor in the house behind you, watching your financé (?) slowly walk towards you, almost like Moony was afraid to frighten you.

He leaned down on all fours before he lowered his head into your lap, inhaling your scent deeply before letting it rest fully on your legs. His nose rested right at your belly bump, rubbing it slightly on your clothed stomach before letting out a sigh of relief.

You looked up at your grandfather, seeing him watching you intently. "Don't move, not that he'll let you. I will bring out a few pillows and a blanket for you. I'll make sure the healer helps Lily." You nodded, your eyes now moving to look down at Moony.

You hadn't ever seen him in his wolf state, but he somehow still looked handsome. His eyes were now closed, his body relaxed as he soaked in your scent.

"What do you mean, you're not joining the Order?" Remus yelled at you, his face red with fury. There were very few times Remus was this angry with you, usually when you had been neglecting yourself of necessities. But, this time, he was raging in fury with your absolute denial to join the war.

"Remus, I'm just saying I'm not going to go out and fight! Molly doesn't! I'm going to stay back and help where I'm needed. There are tons of you going to fight, I'm staying back to take care of everyone that doesn't go on the missions! What do you want from me?! I wasn't good at defensive spells, I wasn't good at duels! Do you want me to go out there and fucking die?" This caused him to quiet down, your fury having grown substantially.

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments, allowing you both to calm down. "I don't want you to die. I would kill myself if you ended up dying on one of the missions." Remus' voice was soft and full of fear now. "Then why do you want me to go out there and fight, Rem? You are the one that saw me up past midnight trying to learn the defensive spells so often. You're the one I made duel with me night after night to try to improve. You of all people know that I couldn't properly protect myself or anyone else if I went."

He nodded, hating to admit that you were right. He had even told you, seventh year, "Baby, I love you, but you're definitely not getting your excellent mark on this. You'll pass, but barely." You had been much more skilled in potions and herbology, not in the defensive skills.

"I just, I can't stand the idea of you being back home if the order gets attacked. I know that's stupid, I know that's irrational, it's much more dangerous to actually be out there, I'm just scared." It hurt your heart to hear him admit how scared he was, but, you all were scared. You were growing up in a war that shouldn't be yours to fight.

"Remus, while I stink at my defensive skills, have you seen Molly Weasley? The woman survives on defensive skills, all her kids figuring out how to moderately work their magic. I think I'm safer with her than with you." This caused him to break into a small smile, but wrap you up tightly in his arms. "You're not safer with anyone else but me. I'd murder Voldemort himself before he touched you." You gasped at the use of his name, turning to eye the love of your life. "You said his name." You whispered, your eyes wide. "Well, I'd use his name to his face if it kept you out of harm's way."

You had dozed off a bit, your head laying back on the pillow Sirius had brought you, having gawked at the wolf fast asleep in your hold. "We always knew your scent calmed him, it always did when you gave him some of your clothes, but this? I'd never thought I'd live to see the day Moony didn't try to attack whoever was in front of him."

You had only been awoken by James, tapping on your shoulder. You jerked awake, seeing Moony still asleep in your hold. "Lily had the baby, a girl. They're both up in our room, but she wanted me to come tell you and check up on you." He eyed Moony warily, fear still evident in his body, worried the wolf would awake and tear you to shreds. "I'm so glad. Did everything go okay?" Your voice was a whisper, not wanting to wake the wolf either.

"Yeah, the healer said she did great. Hardly needed the help." James sat down beside you, but scooted a foot away from you when Moony growled in his sleep, the foreign scent mixing with yours. "It's weird, seeing him like this. All the nights we were out there with him, trying to keep him from tearing into Hogwarts and keep him away from you when it's apparently all he needed." James shook his head, attempting to remove the shock from his head.

"I don't think he needs me anymore." You whispered. While it hurt you to say, you honestly believed it. The man let you leave without a sliver of doubt. He watched you walk out of the home you built together, taking his kids with you.

"Y/n, he searched the world until he found you, of course he needs you." James didn't say anything about you needing to forgive him, about you needing to hear him out, because he didn't think Remus deserved that. He just knew that Remus did need you. "He should be shifting back soon. I brought out some of his clothes I found in your stuff." He gestured to the pile of clothes beside the both of you before standing up.

"When you guys get inside, Lily would love for you to come in and meet her." You smiled at that, nodding. "It would be my honor."

You laid back down, listening to the morning sounds slowly begin, until you felt the movement under you, watching for your own eyes as Remus shifted back into himself. He groaned, the pain filling his frame once more within 12 hours, the sounds of his groans bringing tears to your eyes.

Once he was fully to himself, his eyes opened and met yours, widening. "What?" He asked softly, his gaze not leaving yours. You reached over, grabbing the clothes brought out for him before dropping them on his chest. He sat up without another word, removing his body from yours and beginning to get dressed.

He stood, pulling the boxers and pants on as you stood yourself. You grabbed the pillows and blankets, waiting until he began to pull on the sweater before rushing inside, hoping to escape the looming conversation.

You set the things down in the living room before slowly creeping up the stairs and towards the room with Lily and James, hearing a soft and small cry emitting from it. You knocked softly, hearing the "come in" before you creaked open the door. "Hey you four." You whispered, seeing Harry fast asleep on James' chest.

"Y/n, thank Merlin." Lily spoke, her eyes welling with tears at the sight of you. "I was so worried. I didn't know what happened." You smiled, walking closer to the woman. "It's all okay, it's a long story, but it's all okay." You walked closer until you were at the edge of the bed, looking down at Lily and the beautiful baby girl.

"Take her." Lily whispered, looking up at you. "What?" you asked, your eyes wide. "You're gonna need the practice, take her." You nodded, slowly grabbing the baby from Lily, coddling her to your chest.

"Y/n!" You heard Remus call before turning into the room, staring at you holding the baby. "You had her?" Remus now asked Lily, smiling widely. "Mhm, last night. Looks like two people decided to make an entrance." Lily laughed, smiling at you.

"She's beautiful." You whispered, your eyes having stayed on the baby in yours arms. "What's her name?" You looked down at Lily, now seeing James awake and looking at you. "Well, we wanted to confirm with you, but we wanted to name her Harley y/m/n Potter." You gasped softly, looking down at the two parents.

"Are you sure?" They both nodded before you finished speaking, "More than sure." Your tears fell freely as you looked down at the baby, seeing her now asleep in your warm hold. "I'd be honored."

Remus had now walked to you, standing behind you as he looked down, his eyes set on you holding the baby girl, pregnant with his own kids. His gaze moved to the ceiling, holding in tears before he glanced at the bed, seeing James glaring daggers into his frame.

"Here, I'm gonna go freshen up. She's absolutely beautiful, guys." You carefully handed Harley back to her mom before quickly walking out of their room, but stopping a few steps away to hear James speak.

"Fucking prat, there the fuck you are! Where have you been?!" His voice was harsh, angry at his best mate. "Looking for her, what else! The second she left Molly's, I've been looking!" Remus' voice was scratchy like it was every morning after a turn.

"Yeah, well, you're a dick." Lily spoke up, still looking down at her baby girl. "I still think Sirius should have punched you harder." Remus nodded, looking at the floor.

"I can't believe I said that to her, guys. What the fuck kind of person am I?" His voice was growing rougher, his eyes swelling with tears. "Don't go on about this with us, mate. You're in the same house as her, go tell her." That caused you to walk off quickly, moving to your room, shutting the door and leaning against it.

Your hands wrapped around your belly, bringing you back to the day you apparated out of Molly's living room, having held your stomach the same way, protecting your children. What on earth do you say to him? What did you want from him?

You weren't sure what the answer was to either of those questions, which is why you quickly left your room and slipped into the bathroom. He couldn't talk to you if you were in the shower. You confirmed you had your bathroom items before jumping into the shower, taking the longest shower you had ever taken in your life.

While you stood, shampoo in your hair, you thought.

What if he still doesn't want them? I'd have to stay here. I'd move in fully and live in Texas. Texas, really? It's so fucking hot and I'd miss snow. Then I'd move in with Molly. Nope, no way, there are already 7 kids there, she does not need two more. Then, James and Lily? Nope. She just had another newborn, there was no way you'd bug them with this. Sirius. That's where you'd go. He had tons of space and you're sure he'd be more than okay with you there.

But, what if he changed his mind? What if he did want them? How could you trust that? How could you possibly believe he'd want them after immediately suggesting they be gotten rid of?

As you applied the conditioner, you wished you could just go back to the easier things. The happier things. The things that had you almost thinking you lived in a world not plagued with pending war.

Five years after graduation. You were sitting in Remus' lap at James and Lily's place, still getting used to Peter not being around. Harry now being two had you all more than happy, listening to his vocabulary grow.

The football game was on, the muggle TV playing as Lily still attempted to explain it to Sirius and James. Remus had his arms around you, his gaze no longer on the TV, but on Harry as he played on the floor with his stuffed dragon. "I can't believe you got him a muggle toy." He laughed in your ear, the smile evident on his face. "Well, he loves Dragons! I couldn't not buy it." You smiled at your boyfriend, kissing his nose softly. The night carried on, the five of you playing a few games of sharades, but you exiting the room to grab the next plate of sliders to bring into the room.

As you sat back down, Harry walked up to you, sat in your lap, and grabbed your face. "Mawwy me." He giggled softly, your eyebrows furrowing as Lily quickly yanked him from your lap, nervously chuckling. "Hah, sorry, don't know where that came from" You looked around the room, all four faces refusing to look at you, all of them nervously laughing along with Lily.

"Did Harry just ask me to marry him?" You watched as they glanced around nervously before breaking out, talking over each other. "What, psh, no way." "Where would he have learned how to do that?" "I didn't hear that, did you hear that?" "No, but I did." All talked stopped, everyone looking at Remus. "What did you just say?"

Remus took a deep breath, moving off the couch and turning to look at you, before bending down onto one knee. "I've been talking to them a lot about how I was going to ask you, but seeing as how Harry beat me to the punch, let's do it right now. Y/n, right in front of our friends and a little boy who doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut." James tickled Harry, causing him to giggle as you all smiled. "I'm asking the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my entire life, the girl who showed me that being something you can't control doesn't make you a monster, the girl who makes me smile with just a single giggle, to marry me. You have shown me a happiness I thought everyone was faking, a love that I didn't think existed outside of James and Lily and Molly and Arthur, and a kindness I thought had left the world.

"So, in the living room of our best friends, surrounded by food I think Harry might have stuck his fingers in, I ask you to marry me. Make me the happiest man in the world and marry me."

You thought his proposal had been so incredibly beautiful, better than any you ever could have imagined. As you rinsed off the extra shaving cream from your legs, you sighed deeply. How did your love life come to this?

Eventually, you had exited the shower, tying the bathrobe around your bump before opening the bathroom door, walking out and jumping at the sight of Remus sitting on your bed.

"Fuck, you scared me." You clutched your belly, looking at the man. "Oh, shoot, sorry." You pulled the robe tighter, seeing his eyes flutter down to his legs. It hurt your heart to think you needed to cover up from him, but you attempted to cover the large bump behind the robe.

"Let me, uh, let me change really quick." You grabbed your underwear from your dresser before rushing into the closet, shutting the door and dressing in a shirt and a baggier set of overalls, hoping it didn't show your belly too much. When you walked out, Remus was now pacing the floor, his hands gripping his hair tightly.

"Rem, stop, it's fine." you quickly walked to him, pulling his hands from his hair. "I'm glad you're okay." You mumbled the words, taking a step back from him. He inhaled deeply, his eyes shutting.

"I can still smell the change in your scent. Really, Moony can, but I can still tell." You nodded, stepping back once more.

"Y/n, we need to talk." You laughed bitterly, a mix of anger and sadness filling your body. "You think we need to talk, Remus? You think so? You think we should talk about the fact that, the second you got back from being on a mission you could have died on, you yelled at me for something I couldn't control? You think we should talk about the fact that you basically told me to abort our kids? You think we should talk about the fact that you let me walk out of our home without trying to stop me? You think we should talk about that?"

Your hands were shaking in anger, your eyes swelling up with tears. Damn, how much can one person cry? Your hands gripped your own hair now, pulling it in anger. "How can I cry this much? How does this happen?" You shouted in anger, now at yourself. "Fucking hormones!" Your hands fell to your sides, your eyes squeezed shut before your felt yourself in the hold of him.

His scent filled you, filled you up until your body relaxed involuntarily. "'S okay, I'm right here. I'm right here." One hand went up to smooth the hair that you yanked, the other firmly holding you to him. Your hands wrapped around him, grasping onto the fabric of his shirt at his back. "I'm so fucking mad at you, Remus. So fucking mad." Your tears slowed, your eyes closing as you finally felt safe.

He had been your safe place for so long and going without him for this long had kept your body weak. Now, relaxed in his hold, your body begged for decent sleep. You allowed yourself to go limp in his hold, feeling him pick you up bridal style and walk to both to the bed, curling up with you in his arms. "'M right here, love. Right here and I'm not going anywhere." You drifted to sleep, holding him with as much strength as you could as you slept.

~

Tag list -

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[cunningambitousdetermined]

I Loved You (young!Sirius x Reader)

um ok so i've never written anything and posted it somewhere before but i saw @vogueweasley's 1k writing challenge and i decided why not. actually there are many reasons not to but i hope that someone will have some form of constructive criticism. so yeah, worst case if you hate it um sorry. and thanks @vogueweasley for giving me an oppurtunity. i decided to do sirius x reader (even though i ship wolfstar sorry) here it goes with the prompt: "Did it mean anything to you?" Did I mean anything to you?"

Sirius Black was in love. That was the fact of the matter. Anyone who knew him from Hogwarts would have said that it was a lie. It would pass. Sirius Black, in love? The playboy of Hogwarts, breaker of all hearts? He was in love? It was a phase, they said, she wouldn’t last. If Y/N was being honest, she hadn’t thought it would last either. She was right. 

It had all started when Remus Lupin had introduced them on the train their first year. Y/N was Remus’s best friend and had ever since he could remember. Growing up, they read books, drew pictures and did everything together. She was there after every full moon. She would read books to Remus and bring silly old movies. She was a muggleborn so it had been quite a shock to her and her parents when they found out about Remus’s family. But Y/N had been there when he’d been bitten. They had been sleeping in a tent in the basement of Remus’s house when Greyback had tore threw the window and attacked. She remember every part of that night. The breaking of the short windows, glass shattering, the growling, the tearing of flesh. Greyback’s face was what haunted Remus’s nightmares but his screams haunted hers. When Y/N received her letter, her parents were thrilled, not to mention Remus, who was ecstatic at the prospect of spending all their time in school together. Y/N had left to go change when Sirius Black and James Potter slipped into Remus’s compartment. From what Remus gathered, they had bumped into each other after Sirius pranked his family and James helped him escape. Y/N proudly straightened her tie, she was a witch. She was going to Hogwarts, with Rem. Her giddy smile hadn’t left her face since she had gotten the letter. Diagon Alley was even better. Her mum and dad hadn’t come but Hope and Lyall had taken her with pleasure. They took her to all the shops and helped her buy everything. Remus had laughed at her star struck face when she proclaimed loudly “I love magic!”. She never wanted to leave. 

She walked briskly back to Remus with a bounce in her step. Only an hour or so and they would be there. She heard voices and laughter coming from the compartment and wondered if Remus had already made new friends. She smiled at the thought, he had been so scared to come. Being the first werewolf he was afraid of anyone knowing. She had assured him that nothing would happen and he would make lots of friends, and looked like she was right. She slid the door open, a proud smirk gracing her features. 

“Y/N!” Remus leaped up and pulled her to the seat next to him. Next to her sat a boy with dark brown unruly hair and glasses perched on his nose. His smile scrunched up his blue eyes and brought out his rather large dimples. The boy across from them was what really caught her eye. He had chin length black hair and the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. When he smiled, his whole face lit up. “Y/N, meet Sirius Black”

That was the start of a friendship that rivaled her and Remus. Despite being a Hufflepuff, she was an honorary Marauder. In her second year, she learned to become an Animagus to help Remus. Remus had been furious and terrified but he would be forever grateful for her sacrifice. In her third year, the rest of the Marauders found out and became Animagus themselves. James, a stag. Peter, a rat. Sirius and her were dogs. Except she was golden where he was black. They were inseparable. And it was no secret that no matter how many girls Sirius slept with, there was only one that was on his mind. 

Sirius Black had been in love in like with Y/N for years. He had found her stunning on the train but he was young and naive then. He had since grown up and become someone new. They were the best of friends. Sirius and her were both Beaters on their quidditch teams leading to a never ending rivalry. But, it was the way she listened that set her apart from the rest. There had been one particular night when he had just gotten a letter from home. The letter was all sorts of cruel and no matter how hard he tried to keep his bad boy façade up, all he wanted to do was cry. Remus and Y/N were reading to each other, as they did often in an armchair in the common room when Sirius had sped by, tears in his eyes. Y/N had barely glanced at Remus before she quickly followed him. Sirius burst into his dorm and threw himself on the bed. He then proceeded to punch the wall. Again, and again, and again. Suddenly, a soft hand pulled his back from the wall. “Siri, Siri stop...” It was Y/N. Dimly aware of the tears streaming down his face, he had let her drag him to his bed and wipe his tears. She had bundled him up in her arms, his head in her lap as he sobbed and sobbed for at least 30 minutes. When all his tears had run out and he was finally aware of himself again. His cheeks flamed as he realized how he had let Y/N see him. Crying and angry. He made to get up but your hand that was running through his hair stilled and she pulled it away but kept him on the bed with a firm pull. 

“Y/N- I- Let’s just forget this. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to have you see that” he muttered as he again tried to pull away. He hated himself. A disgrace. Embarrassment. Right now the only thing he wanted to do was cave. Fall asleep and never wake up. Ever. He hated himself and for her to see him as himself without any mask, she was sure to hate him too. “Just go” he mumbled. She silenced him with a stern look. Then she softened and pressed her hand to his cheek, thumbing over his tear stains. 

“Siri, let me help you. You need to let someone help you. What’s going on?” Maybe it was something about her eyes, so deep and pleading. Or maybe it was her soft smile or her thumb running over his cheekbone that made him spill it all to her. He told her everything. His parents, the shunning, the yelling. She had listened, flinching along the way. And when he was done, she had told him things that no one had said to him before. She had promised that she would always be there. Her soft voice and words eased him and slowly his tears stopped. And she had held him for the rest of the night, rocking him until he fell asleep, her words ringing in his head. “You are perfect, Sirius Orion Black, and to hell with anyone who thinks you’re not”

 That wasn’t the last time that he had cried to her, spilled his secrets. He found himself going to her, letting his guard down. When he was happy and, most of the time, in trouble, she was there to help him plan his next prank. And when he was sad, most of all then, she was there to help him. She tore up his letters and comforted him. Her soft nature at those times was such a soothing presence in contrast to his anger and self loathing. He had never let himself be so vulnerable with anyone. And maybe that was why he found himself falling harder and harder for her every day. 

“REMUS LUPIN!” Y/N cried, “YOU LET ME GO THIS INSTANT!” She was laughing as Remus continued to run through Hogsmeade with Y/N thrown over his shoulder. Sirius couldn’t deny that it made a little bit of green tinge the ends of his vision. “Ya know, Moony, I never realized you had such a nice arse...” she remarked with a chuckle. Remus threw her down into the soft snow and stuck his tongue out at her. She laughed and reached a hand out for Remus to help her up. Sirius could see the look in her eye from here, Remus was done for. Remus grabbed her hand but she dug her feet into the snow and yanked him down with her. He yelped and crashed down, half on top of her. Sirius laughed but couldn’t help the pit in his stomach as she leaned in and whispered something in Moony’s ear. He looked away, he didn’t want to see it. Moony burst out laughing but Sirius didn’t take his eyes off of James, who was enthralled at the new Cleansweep broom. 

Thunk. Something cold and wet had hit Sirius’s hair. He whipped around, snow dripping down his cheek and that’s why Y/N erupted in laughter. She was doubled over, cheeks red and hand clapped over her mouth as she lost it. Something about the shock on Sirius’s face with the snow falling off his hair and Y/N’s contagious laughter made Remus join in. The pair rolled around in the snow, cackling. Sirius grinned, so this was how they wanted to play it. While they laughed at him, he balled up his fist with snow and prepared to throw. Y/N squealed, her smile still lighting up her whole face. “No, no, SIRIUS, NO!!:” Sirius and Remus exchanged a look and Remus dove out of the way as Sirius launched his first snowball. “TRAITOR!” she yelled at Remus, “Traitor!” Her heart was light and her smile wide as she watched the joy on Sirius’s face. It had been a while since she’d really seen him just let go. She was so caught up, she didn’t see Remus aiming until a snowball hit her scarf and slid down her sweater. Remus widened his eyes, that was not good. “Oh really, Moony, I don’t think so...” she narrowed her eyes at him. James had turned around and not one to miss out, ran to help her. “Thank you James,” she smiled sweetly, “At least some of you are decent,” she teased, looking back at Sirius and Remus. 

James smirked, he was a man on a mission. Make Sirius jealous. “Of course love. Anytime” he winked and wrapped his arm around her waist. He saw the muscles in Sirius’s hand flex at the movement and smirked. This was too easy. Y/N had already begun collected all her snowballs and started to pummel the boys with them. Remus was running back and forth, screaming, trying to avoid James’s deadly aim. Y/N was laughing so hard her jaw hurt as she attacked Sirius with snowballs. Her whole body felt warm and fuzzy, this was a Patronus worthy moment. 

As the Marauders trudged back to Hogwarts, sopping wet and drunk on happiness, James kept his arm around Y/N and let her take his scarf. Sirius refused to look at them. His stomach clenched at the sight of James’s hand on her waist. When they had made it back to the boy’s dorm, Y/N rifled through James’s things until she came back from the bathroom, clean and warm, in James’s quidditch jumper and an old pair of leggings she’d left a while ago. His heart fell when he saw her leap onto James’s bed and put her head on his shoulder. His happy mood vanished as she laughed at something James was saying. He plopped on his bed, it was supposed to be his bed she was getting warm in, his jokes she was laughing at and his clothes she was wearing! He grabbed the map and watched the people float around, just having a good time. The weather was perfect for sledding and ice skating and that seemed to be where most kids were. 

Unfortunately, he was still subject to Y/N and James laughing and talking. The closer James leaned in to her, the more his anger bubbled. James knew! The prat knew he was in love with her! And he was still doing it! Yes, he knew he wasn’t good enough for her, but come on! Right in front of him? His anger reached it’s peak when James leaned in to her ear and pulling away, pressed a feather light kiss to her cheek. Whatever James had said had made her laugh lightly and her already pink cheeks to flush brilliant red. Then with a last wink, James hopped up and left the room. No bye or anything, it was a bit odd actually. Remus gave Sirius a meaningful look as he crossed the room and followed James out, Peter scurrying after them. 

Sirius shot her a confused look only to find that she wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes were trained on James’s jumper sleeves as she pulled and twisted it. His anger rose again as he remembered who’s jumper you were wearing and the kiss that had come along with it. “Well why don’t you go after your boyfriend, Y/N?” he sneered.  Her head jerked up in confusion. The way he said boyfriend had been with such disgust. Even the way he said her name. He sounded like Malfoy and those pureblood snobs. 

“He’s not my boyfriend!” She shot back, James and his stupid plan. Why had she done this? He claimed that he had made Sirius jealous but she knew that the boy didn’t have feelings her. All she’d done was make him angry. She was going to murder James if Sirius wasn’t her friend anymore after watching James disgustingly flirt with her all afternoon. 

“Well, you sure looked pretty cozy!” Sirius yelled, he was furious, all his pent up emotions leading to one big explosion. He leapt up from his bed and stormed over to where Y/N sat, her legs dangling over the edge of James’s bed, and planted himself between her legs. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Y/N whispered, he was so close, his grey eyes swirling with emotion. Anger, sadness, and maybe something more, she didn’t know. She inhaled and his scent of sugar and campfire filled her nose. Sirius looked down at her, his eyes flicking to her lips, the lips that he had been tortured by for years. And he kissed her. His hands cupped her cheeks and he ran his thumbs across her face. She stilled, shocked, was this real? But she didn’t think on it as she kissed him back, hands threading through his dark locks, pulling him down. Sirius groaned and pulled away, looking at this wonderful girl. She smiled shyly and tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear. Yeah, he was a goner. 

That was the start of probably the happiest time in Sirius’s life. And Y/N’s. Sirius was the best boyfriend anyone could ask for. They had been best friends before so they slipped very easily into the relationship. Y/N started spending less time in her dorm and more time asleep in Sirius’s bed. She had been the first to say ‘I love you’ because she did. She really did. And when she had, Sirius had been shocked. She loved him? His body had gone into overdrive and he just started crying. He was so goddamn lucky. Unbeknownst to Y/N, he watched her every minute of every day. He admired her. And she was his world. Without her, he didn’t know what he would do. His whole being ached for her when he was at the Potters. When they left school that summer and he went home to that desolate place that held no meaning to him, he was miserable. His muscles felt to weak to do anything and his mind just told him to go to sleep and never wake up. 2 weeks in, he hadn’t even gotten up the courage to open Y/N’s letters. It made his heart hurt just to see her owl drop them off. So naturally when she showed up at his house while his parents were at the Malfoy Gala, he was shocked. His summer turned from his worst to his best. When no one was around, she crept back in and they spent the summer playing quidditch and cuddling by the fire. Sleepy kisses on tired eyes, quiet ‘I love you’s’. Sirius would watch her as she slept in his arms, his clothes, in his bed and he would cry. Softly and not out of pain, but out of happiness. This girl, she had brought him back to Earth, gave him a reason to live. She was his home. His silk sheets would tangle her legs and his old muggle shirts would fall to her knees and he couldn’t have been happier. He had been drowning and she had saved him. She had brought him back to life. 

They were blissfully unaware that they had made a fatal mistake. Regulus. Regulus saw her come in and out and saw them fly around, laughing and loving each other like no one else could see them. But he could and when his mother asked him questions, he didn’t lie. 

“I love you” Sirius whispered into Y/N’s hair, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” She was wrapped in his covers as they just sat, enjoying being with each other. He relaxed against her and she sighed happily. 

“I love you too Siri”

Their sixth year at Hogwarts had come. They were closer then ever after the summer they had spent together. Classes were the same but something had changed. Y/N was just so so happy. She felt invincible. But, she wasn’t. She was mortal and she could still feel pain. 

She walked down the corridor after Charms, parting with Sirius and headed back to her dorm to change out of her uniform. She was cheerily walking, book in hand as she skimmed the pages, making sure she didn’t run into anyone. When she glanced up next, a group of Slytherins stood at the end of the hall, just where she needed to turn to get to the common room. It was Regulus, Sirius’s brother, and some of Sirius’s cousins. She pasted on a smile and made to pass them, not wanting any trouble. You’re fine, she reassured herself but her racing heartbeat said otherwise. She strode past them and gave Regulus a small nod. Just as she thought she was home free, a hand flipped out and grabbed her arm. Her whole body froze and she swallowed a scream. Regulus had her by the arm and marched her down the opposite corridor to an empty corner.

“Regulus! Let me go!” Y/N whispered, “Sirius will hurt you, and I don’t want that.” Even though he had trapped her here, she still felt the urge to protect him. He was Sirius’s family after all. 

“I’m just trying to help you Y/N” he replied, “I won’t beat around the bush. You can’t see Sirius.” The frustration in Y/N spiked into anger, fire licking at her insides. 

“You cannot tell me what to do! Sirius is my boyfriend, who are you to say differently?” She spat at him, disgusted. Stop seeing Sirius, he must be insane. 

“Please, it’s for your own good.” he said and handed her a stack of papers. She looked down at them in confusion. “I found them in his room,” Regulus dropped his voice “My mum found out too, and she wrote you a letter as well,” He dropped another letter into her hand. This one was sealed in an envelope. She made to turn away but Regulus was looking at her expectantly. 

“You want me to open them here?” She asked, incredulous. “What do they say?” Regulus just shook his head and slid down to sit on the floor. He patted the spot next to him. Y/N sighed and sat down and opened the first letter. 

Dear Miss Y/N,

It was recently brought to our attention that our Sirius was in a relationship with you. Now, as we are sure you are aware, we cannot have someone like you sullying the name Black. We hope this letter finds you in good health and able to fulfill our wishes. I, Walburga Black, command you to break off all relations with my son, Sirius Orion Black.  You are not and never will be good enough for this house. You are nothing, nothing but a filthy mudblood. You ruin my son and you will only further his destruction. If you do not comply, I do hope that you understand that we will do everything in our power to stop this. But, I believe you are a smart child, for a mudblood, and I hope that I will not have to waste anymore time or breath on you. 

The Noble House of Black

“Your joking, right?” Y/N laughed, “I couldn’t do that to him, I wouldn’t! I don’t care about some Noble House of Black!” She again went to get up but Regulus caught her wrist. 

“Y/N, I don’t want you to have to do this either, but I think you should. Look at the notes from Sirius. He wrote those this summer. I found them and then my mum gave me the letter. I don’t want my mum to be the reason you break it off but there’s more to the story. I just don’t want you getting hurt in the end.” Anyone else would’ve told her that there was no way he really cared, but Y/N insisted upon seeing the good in everyone so she sat down again and opened the notes.

June 28

Y/N came to see me. Dear god, that women is going to be the death of me. Y/N smiled, remembering the day she had snuck in. I can’t wait to tell Mum all about how I had her, in the bed she bought for me. The filthy mudblood tangled in her sheets that she bought. Y/N’s face fell along with her heart. Mudblood? He would never. Y/N, so naïve, really thinks I’d be into her. That’s what makes it perfect. She would never guess that her only purpose is to spite my mother. Like I really care. It doesn’t help that I get sex. I mean I could have any girl but damn, she gave herself to me to fast. Even I didn’t know I was that good. Either way, she has to find out eventually. I mean I can’t marry her. Mudblood. Imagine that. She’s not even pretty. Kind of fat actually. More hips then I normally see...

The notes went on and on and on. Y/N felt her heart crack and shatter. Tears streamed down her face. She was just a mudblood that he had used. She felt dumb and most of all, betrayed.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N” Regulus said, “I just wanted to make sure you knew.” She turned away in an a

She didn’t respond just gathered the letters and fled. In her dorm, she flopped on to her bed and just cried. She cried for the boy who she thought loved her, who she still loved. She cried because she wasn’t good enough, because she nothing at all. The girls in her dorm had soon filed in and tried to pry the story out of her. She just tossed the letters at them and continued crying. Jane, one of the girls, held her as she shook and sobbed until she fell asleep. She refused to go to any classes the next day, or the next week. She didn’t eat, she didn’t sleep. All she wanted do to was die. Dark circles lived under eyes and her bones began to show through. There was nothing the girls could do, she had shut herself inside the curtains of her bed. Her heart had been broken and she was pretty sure there was no putting it back together. 

The Marauders were worried. Y/N hadn’t been in class in weeks and many teachers were getting suspicious. Remus had tried to visit her but the Hufflepuff girls had barred his way through. Sirius was going mad without her. He couldn’t focus in class, his eyes were always on her empty seat. He laughed and joked with the Marauders but his smiles didn’t reach his eyes. His dreams were filled of her. Her. Her laugher, her smile, her hands, her lips on his. Finally, he’d had enough. James mentioned missing Y/N to Remus and him in the common room and that was it. “I’m going to get her” He said and he stormed out. Remus could feel the anger radiating off of him and knew he would need to be there to put the fire out. He ran off behind him and trailed him to the dorms. The Hufflepuff dorms were one of the hardest to get into so they waited until a boy came out and Sirius stormed in. Remus tried to grab Sirius and calm him down but it was to no avail. He was already charming the stairs and starting up. 

“Sirius! Please! Just calm down!” Remus cried, desperately trying to pull him back. Knowing him, he might say something he would regret.

“No Remus.” Sirius’s voice was colder then Remus had ever heard it. “My girlfriend is ignoring me and I intend to figure out why.” Sirius ripped the door open and found Y/N’s curtains drawn shut. Before Remus could say anything, Sirius had flung the curtains open. Remus watched Sirius freeze, his whole body tense. He stepped forward to look past Sirius and was shocked. Y/N was curled on the bed, eyes wide. She had bags and purple circles under each eye. Her cheeks were sunken in, and her shirt hung off of her in a odd way. She looked like shit. 

“Si-Sirius?” she whimpered, and her eyes filled with tears. Remus looked at the bed and found pictures shattered and things thrown everywhere. She was a mess.

“Yes.” Sirius snapped, “You know, your BOYFRIEND!” Y/N flinched and her face hardened. 

“Oh really? OH REALLY? MY BOYFRIEND?!” she yelled, fury edging in her tone.

“YES YOUR BOYFRIEND!” he screamed back, his face red and his hands gesturing wildly. 

“ARE YOU SURE? I THOUGHT I WAS JUST A MUDBLOOD, TOO NAIVE, TOO UGLY FOR YOU! I LOVED YOU AND LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO THAT! I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU!” She was out of bed now and standing chest to chest with Sirius. On the last word she shoved him back and caught off guard he stumbled into Remus. Remus was in shock, what had happened? “Did it mean anything to you? Did I mean anything to you?” With that you turned on your heel and ran out of the dorm. Sirius stood and watched as you got smaller and smaller and with step she took, his anger ebbed a little. And then she was gone, leaving behind the boy who loved her. 

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 22: Dukexiety

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 22:  When you close your eyes, you can see what your soulmate sees.

Content warnings: Sleep deprivation/what could be considered insomnia, food mentions, energy drinks, parental abuse, drunk abuse, mentioned anxiety attack, physical altercation, dissociating, school security, maybe PTSD?

Word count: 3.5k 

For as long as Remus could remember, he’d hated sleeping. 

At some points it got so bad he couldn’t function. Falling asleep at the breakfast table before violently jolting awake, asking his mother or teacher to repeat things four or five times until it finally clicked that they were asking if he was okay, staring off into space for what felt like a couple minutes, only to learn that it was several hours later and he’d missed dinner. Roman had gotten used to his twin’s habit of losing sleep, and although it never ceased to worry him, it became more of a given thing that if Remus forgot to do his chores, it was (most of the time) an accident. He’d walk into their shared room and snap his fingers in his face a few times, ask if he wanted dinner until Remus finally understood, and then help him stumble downstairs. 

It was also a given in their family that if Remus ever did fall asleep, whether in his own bed, or on the couch, or outside in the backyard, never wake him up. He so rarely got any rest whatsoever that the seldom times he was able to conk out, it wasn’t uncommon for him to be down for over twenty hours. In those cases, their parents would silently close all the curtains and shut off the lights if he was indoors, or cover him with their deck umbrella and lay a blanket on him if he was outside, and make it law to not disturb him. He’d miss school, it was fine, just let him sleep.

And it was all because of his soulmate. 

Because it wasn’t so much the act of sleeping in itself that he hated. No, the times he actually got deeper than the REM phase, when he was actually out, it was amazing. Blissful and relaxing and made him so hyper aware when he finally woke up. Like the colors were no longer dim and words made sense the first time they were uttered. It was the actual act of falling asleep, when he had to close his eyes but was still fully conscious, that he hated. 

He didn’t have a proper idea who his soulmate actually was. Every time he closed his eyes and their vision fused, when he saw everything his soulmate saw from their perspective, they never seemed to be around a mirror. That would have made life a whole lot easier, if he only knew what it was. Then at least he’d have a chance to save them.

It started when he was little, when their soulbond was just forming. Back then, it was still shaky and glitchy, sometimes showing what his soulmate was seeing, and sometimes just showing the blackness of his eyelid. He saw grassy fields of a park that he couldn’t identify, a dimly lit bedroom with toys scattered on the floor, the night sky from a window that wasn’t his. But then it morphed; playgrounds becoming littered liquor bottles on the floor of an unkempt living room, dark lego-covered carpet evolving from something once played upon to something his soulmate was thrown harshly onto, the view of the stars suddenly filled with the face of a screaming man. The man. 

Remus had no idea who the man was, but he knew his face well. He knew every fury filled expression on his drunken face, the way his nose wrinkled in disgust, how his mouth twisted and contorted as he screamed. Their ears weren’t connected, so he couldn’t tell what the man was saying, but it was punctuated with flying fists and hands gripping collars, thrown beer bottles and pushes to the ground. It didn’t happen every time he closed his eyes, but it had happened enough for Remus to suddenly jerk awake the moment their vision was shared out of pure panic. It happened enough that if his mother reached up to adjust his hoodie strings, he’d flinch violently, or when Roman snuck up on him just a little too quietly, his hands would fly over his face to protect himself. He wouldn’t develop bruises, or take the undoubtedly cruel things the man said to heart, but he was still affected. If he tried to sleep, and the man appeared in his sight, he’d bury his face in his arms, eyes wide and staring at his pajama pants, knowing what was happening to his soulmate however far away they were and he was unable to do anything to help. At least he could open his eyes and be free of the horrors. It was only in the rare instances when he’d close his eyes and his soulmate was already asleep, revealing nothing but the black void behind his eyelids, that he could actually sleep. 

When Roman awoke that morning, he blinked his bleary eyes and turned to the other bed in the room, sighing when Remus’ bloodshot eyes met his from where he was curled against the wall, blanket wrapped around his shoulders. The bags under his eyes had worsened more than they had before. If he was counting right, this was the third night in a row that Remus hadn’t slept at all. The last time he’d slept had been days ago, and only been for a couple hours before he awoke with a sob.

“Are you okay?” 

In a move unlike Remus, he shook his head no. He rarely admitted that he wasn’t fine, but it was getting to that point of almost mania where his eyes glazed over every couple minutes, hands constantly shaking, unaware of anything around him.

“You probably shouldn’t go to school today.”

“It’s f’ne,” Remus mumbled, hitting his head into his arms, “T’st in Engl’sh. Gotta go.”

“It’s not like you to care about school.” Roman threw his blankets off, noticing the way Remus flinched at the sudden movement, and began to change out of his pajamas.

“S’nior year. Failing Engl’sh. Ac’demic probation.” 

“Ah,” Roman hummed, gingerly placing a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie in front of Remus. “Is English your first class?”

“Mmhm.”

“How about I drive you back home after your test?”

Remus had zoned out, staring blankly at the clothes in front of him, so Roman took that as a yes. As much as he hated letting Remus go to school when he was like this, he knew that if he didn’t drive him, Remus would find a way to go by himself and probably accidentally walk into the highway or something. 

By the time Remus zoned back into the real world, Roman had left the room. Lethargically, he changed into the lazy outfit Roman had placed in front of him and pushed himself off the bed, debating if he had the energy to brush his teeth or not. Just as he was considering just pouring the toothpaste into his mouth and gurgling it, Roman walked into the bathroom with an open can of Monster. 

“I have a stash in the basement so Mom doesn’t find them. Keep it down low and don’t take them, or I’ll cut you off.”

Remus didn’t even realize he’d grabbed the energy drink until he had half finished chugging the can, almost sighing at the immediate burst of adrenaline. 

“Hell yeah.”

“Get ready and be downstairs in twenty minutes or I’m leaving without you.”

It was an empty threat, they both knew it, but Remus rolled his eyes anyways and set about to brushing his teeth, pulling out his phone to check the time. There was a barrage of missed messages and notifications that he hadn’t been able to care about after sleepless night number two, so he sent back explanations to the people who’d questioned his disappearance and gotten up to date on what he’d missed on social media. 

He stumbled downstairs as Roman was opening the front door, offering him a bagel silently. Their parents were both at work already, so they locked the door and got into Roman’s car. Remus wasn’t allowed to get his license, not when there was a solid chance that he’d fall asleep behind the wheel. 

“I’m driving you home after English, capiche?”

“I’d probably skip after the test either way.” His hands twitched against his bouncing legs, still unbearably exhausted but now with his heart beating at a rabbit’s pace. 

“You are not walking.”

“Yes, mom.”

Roman let out a tired sigh, leaving the drive quiet except for the soft sounds of the radio hosts. When they pulled into the school lot, minutes before the bell, Remus was getting out of the car before it had stopped all the way.

“Meet me in the main office after first period, dipshit!” Roman yelled as Remus disappeared into the building, flipping him off and letting the doors close behind him just as Roman shouted something else. Whatever. 

While caffeine was perhaps his most helpful crutch in this nightmare that was living, it had side effects. As soon as his test paper was down before him, his mind completely blanked of every word he’d ever heard in his entire life. Though, in all fairness, that also probably would have happened without the energy drink. He was so used to barely sleeping that it had become a norm to him, but it wasn’t a healthy way to live, so even if he’d learned how to function on twelve hours of sleep a week (on good weeks), his brain hadn’t quite caught on.

The instructions for the test wavered and throbbed before him as he blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to banish the blurriness from his sight. He could barely hold a pencil in his shaking hands, his thoughts somehow flying at the speed of light and equally as stuck and lethargic. Pretty much how he felt. 

“Remus?”

His head flew up, his unruly bangs flopping into his eye. Since when did he need a haircut?

“I’ve been calling you for a few minutes now,” His teacher said quietly. Although they were trying to hide it, he could see his classmates glancing at him from the corners of their eyes, “Are you alright?”

As if perfectly on cue, he could feel his mind zoning out again, vision going blurry as his thoughts disappeared. Vaguely, he could feel a gentle hand on his arm slowly lifting him to his feet, a voice giving a foggy command to the class, and then he was led out of the room, the painfully bright hallway lights blinding him. It also brought him back to the present, ever so slightly, as he was taken down the hall to the main office. In the back of his mind, he was grateful for it, because this was where Roman would pick him up. Did this mean he was going home now? Was the test over?

“-last time he slept. He keeps zoning out. I think it would be best if he went home and retook the test another time.”

Hm? He blinked hard, until his eyeballs hurt, to try and get the gears in his brain to start working again. The teacher was talking to one of the secretaries, and they both kept looking to him in concern. 

“Can I call someone to come pick you up, Remus?” The secretary asked, already flipping through her contacts book.

“His brother also goes here, and can probably take him home. Would be easiest,” The teacher cut in before the question had even fully settled in Remus’ mind, and he internally cheered. At least that was settled. And by the sounds of it, he could do his test another time, which was a huge weight off his shoulders. He didn’t have, nor desire, Roman’s perfect grades, but he at least wanted to graduate.

“I’ll get him excused from class. Thanks for bringing him by.”

Remus blinked again and realized the teacher had left, leaving him wavering in the middle of the office in front of a very worried secretary. She was saying something, her mouth was moving, but the words didn’t compute. However when she gestured to a dimly lit backroom, he got the message and stumbled in, nearly collapsing on the small cot in relief. The door was closed nearly all the way, leaving just a crack of light shining through. 

As much as a nice break the darkness was, it just made his eyes want to close farther, and took twice as much effort to keep them open. Pulling at the skin in the corners of his eyes, he reluctantly sat up and focused his stares on the miscellaneous anatomy posters on the wall. 

That was when his gaze fell to the hunched form in the corner, staring at him with dark glistening eyes, and he nearly fell off the cot.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” He yelped. The figure flinched back, curling more into the chair they were perched on. 

“Sorry. She told you I was here when she brought you in. Didn’t you hear her?”

“In all honesty, no. I didn’t.” The two kept at their staring contest for longer than necessary, before Remus decided to break the silence, “So, what are you in for?”

For a good minute, he didn’t think he would get a response. The guy kept staring back at him, like he was trying to size him up, before he muttered, “Anxiety attack in class. Teacher forbade me from staying here.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Yeah, well…” He finally broke the eye contact, staring down the nails he was picking at. “What about you?”

“Haven’t slept in three days, I think. Maybe four? I was all zone-y during a test so the teacher said I had to go home.”

“Damn teachers and their sudden respect for mental health.”

Remus snorted, resting his head against the wall. “Why’d you have a panic attack?”

“None of your business. Why haven’t you been sleeping?”

“Soulmate stuff,” Remus answered easily, not put off by the other’s suddenly annoyed tone. It wasn’t common to be unable to sleep due to a soulmate issue, whether it was trauma or another issue entirely, but it wasn’t unheard of either. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, it sucks. Still don’t wanna tell me why yo-?”

“No.”

“I accept your rejection and will now take my leave to cry in the bathroom stall.”

The other boy actually snickered, a reaction Remus had been wishing for but hadn’t dreamed to expect. He waved a hand dismissively. “I hope you have a good cry.”

“Aw, thanks,” Remus cooed, leaning forward on his hands. “I haven’t seen you around. What’s your name?”

“Virgil. Only moved here recently.”

“How recent is recent?”

“Couple months.”

“Ah. I’m Remus. School disgrace, nice to meet you.”

“Oh boy, befriending the wrong crowd already.”

“I would be offended if you weren’t correct,” Remus grinned, hitting his baggy eyes a couple times with his fists.

“Virgil?” The nurse poked her head through the door, squinting in the low light, “Your dad’s here.”

Virgil stiffened immediately, casting Remus a look he didn’t quite understand before getting to his feet, pulling his bag onto his shoulder. She smiled at him and opened the door wider, gesturing for him to exit.

That’s when Remus saw him.

Him.

It took him a moment to understand that yes, his eyes were open, and yes, this was the man from his shared vision with his soulmate. 100% him, the same dark eyes and half grimace, except now wearing a pristine three piece suit that very much didn’t match his memories of him. He was signing a sheet, presumably to ensure that he’d picked Virgil up, and didn’t notice as his son stood frozen in the doorway, watching him with fear filled eyes.

Remus jumped to his feet, stepping next to Virgil.

“That’s your dad?”

Virgil let out a choked hum, one that was probably meant to be an affirmation, before gripping the strap of his backpack. “Why?”

“I’m your soulmate,” He said with absolutely zero tact, and the way Virgil’s face paled was enough indication that he’d understood. He gently laid a hand on the shorter’s shoulder, a silent indication to ‘stay here’, and marched towards the man at the desk. 

“Can I just say one thing?”

He looked up, surprised, and gave Remus a once over. His stomach twisted, being under the man’s gaze, the person who had made it impossible for him to sleep, now in front of him. Eye to eye, he appreciated, because in all the times he’d seen him second hand, he’d towered over him. Now they were the same height, and that brought a sick joy to him.

“I suppose?” The man asked, voice as calm and professional as his suit, looking to the secretary with an almost laugh.

“With all due respect,” Remus snarled, hand curling into a fist, “Fuck you.”

And then he hit him. Hard. All his pent up anger, years of watching his soulmate get beaten to a pulp, losing sleep until he was a zombie of himself, panic attacks of pure worry and fear, flew out in one punch, hitting him square in the nose and sending him stumbling back.

The secretary yelled something he didn’t hear over the blood pounding in his ears, and suddenly two arms were wrapped around his waist.

“Let me the fuck at him!” Remus screamed, fighting against the grip with everything he had. The man was on the ground, staring up at him with equal parts horror and pure rage, dabbing at his bleeding nose.

“Remus, breathe. Just calm down, you’re okay. Just breathe,” A shockingly calm voice whispered in his ear, and he immediately sagged against his brother, the restraining arms becoming supporting. 

“That’s him,” He said weakly, pulling away so he could turn to Roman, “That’s him.”

Roman furrowed his brow for a moment, looking between his twin and the man on the floor, before his eyes widened. He knew all of Remus’ stories, being the one a young Remus would come to when the visions got so bad he’d break down, listening to his rants about the abusive guardian of his soulmate. 

“Call the police,” He deadpanned, turning his glare to the secretary.

“I don’t think Remus-”

“Not for Remus, for him!” 

A gasping breath caught everyone’s attention and the focus shifted to the boy still standing on the doorway, his expression one of absolute terror, staring at his father. Remus broke completely away from his brother to cross to him just as the office door slammed open, two security guards-- the secretary had probably called them at the first punch-- taking in the scene before them. He could vaguely hear Roman explaining the situation, glad that he didn’t have to justify anything because he would most likely just end up throwing hands again. 

Virgil watched him approach, almost cowering in on himself, as Remus extended a hand. 

“Let’s get out of here. You’re not going back with him.”

It took the shorter boy a second, a nervous glance between his earnest eyes and the outstretched hand, before he took it in his own. Remus let a relieved smile take over, interlocking their fingers and leading him past the scene. As he passed a still talking Roman, he swiped the car keys from his pocket with no one any wiser.

“He’ll notice eventually,” He stage-whispered as they exited the large double doors, making their way through the parking lot. “I can’t drive, but we might as well sit in the car until Roman’s done.”

Virgil was quiet, allowing himself to be led through the rows of parked cars before Remus stopped, unlocking the doors and sliding into the backseat, pulling his soulmate in after him. There was a blanket tucked under the front seat and he yanked it out, unfolding it as well he could in the cramped space. 

The shorter boy was shaking violently, trying to hide his hands and now bleeding fingernails in his hoodie sleeves. Remus, for maybe the first time in his life, opened his arms for a hug, and was genuinely shocked by how fast Virgil lunged into his grip. He didn’t have many soft spots, but he could make one for his soulmate. 

“You’re not going back to him. Over my dead body. We’ll figure everything out later, but for now-” He shuffled backwards, leaning his head on the window so Virgil was basically laying on top of him, “I don’t know about you, but I have about a million hours of sleep to catch up on, so I’m going to catch a cat nap before Roman’s done.”

“It’s been a long day.”

“And it’s not even noon,” Remus snickered, maneuvering the blanket so it covered them both. 

He closed his eyes, and for a split second, all he saw was himself, from a lower angle. It was disorienting to say the least, but before he could comment, the world was engulfed in black as Virgil closed his eyes as well.

And for the first time in… who knows how long, Remus wasn’t afraid to sleep. 

[kiranatrix]

I feel like the nature of Light’s ideology and his methods get caricatured a great deal in the fandom (especially by those who only viewed the anime). I keep seeing popular memes about Light killing petty shoplifters who are only attempting to feed their family and I always get the sense that they’re largely inaccurate (for the most part). Light notices in the Yotsuba arc that Kira’s sentencing spares those: who’ve served their sentences and improved their ways, who committed justifiable crimes, and who have shown remorse. So it feels off to seeing portrayed that way, especially when Light’s elimination of innocents (such as the FBI agents, Naomi, etc...) are usually for strategic purposes, intended to help him progress ahead. Not to mention this pervasive belief that Light apparently didn’t know that he would be bound to sentence some innocents to death (with his large kill count per day). Wouldn’t it be more likely that Light knew that it was inevitable and was willing to sacrifice those lives for “the greater good,” in his view?

This is a doozy of an ask, anon. But it is GLORY bc these are all excellent things for me to ramble about Light (thank you!). I’ll take them point by point, strap in cause this is a bit long. *cracks knuckles*

You’re absolutely right that fandom often boils Light’s character and ideology down to a few basic elements that are distorted, mostly to drag him. Let’s be honest-- it’s fun to drag characters, even our favs-- and pretty much everyone in Death Note deserves it. But it does become annoying when its inaccurate, like with your example about who Kira focused on killing and some others I see. To be clear, this isn’t any kind of apology for the bastardly things Light DID do, but clarifying what he was and wasn’t about.

Did Light kill petty criminals?

The only time it is mentioned that Light kills criminals for non-serious crimes is when he was under surveillance by L (the infamous potato chip scene) and had to kill someone on the news right then, as well as the immediate coverup. In that circumstance, he couldn’t afford to be picky-- he needed L to see a signature Kira death (heart attack) when Light supposedly couldn’t be doing it. The crimes that appeared on the news that night (in his chip bag TV lol) ended up being non-serious criminals, and Light wasn’t so thrilled about this. 

Mainly because it meant he had to cover his tracks and kill a few more minor criminals so it really did look like Kira’s work. 

But his focus was putting himself in the clear with L; those minor criminals were incidental, and when he had choice/freedom again, he did not focus on them. The ruse didn’t completely work because L thought minor criminals dying was suspicious since it deviated from Kira’s usual MO. So, L knew the real focus.

This was a strategic move in service of, versus reflecting, Light’s ideology. This is something we see pop up again and again for Light. He is willing to do ‘wrong’ for the greater ‘good.’ We also see his distaste for killing petty criminals later when Light rebukes Mikami’s off-script killings in his thoughts. If Kira had been acting this way all along, then the Task Force wouldn’t have been surprised and Light wouldn’t have been pissed off that Mikami was doing it. 

Kira was looking for violent criminals who had escaped justice, that’s his main goal. He’s also disagreeing with Mikami’s methods of punishing wrong-doers who paid their debt to society (as opposed to the Death Row criminals I discuss below who haven’t ‘paid their debt’ yet). He doesn’t want people to fear Kira and thinks shooting fish in a barrel, so to speak, would do that. His ideology is not punitive; to him, its about prevention. Petty crime wasn’t on his radar until he had to make that a temporary focus for his safety.

Did Light focus on criminals already in prison? 

I’ve seen plenty of posts in the Death Note tag grousing about how Light was ‘dumb’ because he only focused on criminals in prison, but that’s not wholly accurate. The first two names he wrote were criminals he witnessed in the process of a crime with actual victims that needed help (a hostage scenario where the perp had already murdered people, and a man about to rape). Then he went for the Big Bads in the news- the most vicious criminals world-wide.

Other than criminals at large, he DID kill some criminals in prison. The times he did so were:

1) Killing criminals on Death Row who, in the eyes of law enforcement, “deserved the death penalty several times over.” These are criminals who had already been sentenced to die and Kira enacted the ‘justice.’

2) During Light’s ‘testing phase’ of the Death Note when he was trying to understand the rules in a population he could control 

3) When he was trying to be conspicuous about deaths for L’s benefit, like throwing off the assumption that Kira was a student. Light knew that those deaths would be found immediately and attributed to Kira. 

For 2 and 3, these criminals were likely to be on Death Row given what was said by INTERPOL about who Kira was killing behind bars. Ironically, even L thought Death Row criminals needed to die-- he chose Lind L Tailor from Death Row for his stunt, and said on TV he’d seek the death penalty for Kira. Hmm.

Why did Light kill innocent people?

The innocent people that Light killed include Raye Penber, the rest of the FBI agents in Japan investigating Kira, and Naomi Misora. L and Watari might be considered innocent per Kira’s ideology (Watari had probably murdered people but L had probably not, directly). Rem technically killed L and Watari, but Light certainly wanted them to die and orchestrated it that way. The innocent people that Light WOULD have killed include the Task Force (Mogi, Aizawa, Matsuda, Ide) and the SPK (Halle, Gevanni, Rester, Near,) if he’d won in the warehouse.

The main thread tying all these people together? They were all imminent threats to Light and were actively trying to stop and/or kill him. Killing them would never have crossed his mind if that hadn’t been the case. THAT DOESN’T MEAN HE DIDN’T ENJOY IT. Taking out his enemies was something Light did savor, he really loved that win. But it wasn’t like he wiped out the entire FBI or Japanese police force. Those were not his targets; these were individuals who threatened his goal and life, and he saw their killing as self-defense. 

Did Light kill any criminals who were innocent or wrongly convicted?

It’s certainly possible that he did but the manga never touches on it. Given that his MO for killing incarcerated criminals was limited to Death Row, he probably felt like those were safe bets (we know that’s not always the case in the real world, of course). But let’s say that Light, in canon, found out he’d killed someone wrongfully convicted. In the beginning of his journey as Kira (at 17-18), I honestly don’t think he’d given this a lot of thought. What’s funny is that Light was naively, and paradoxically, putting a lot of faith in the human justice system while simultaneously enacting his own justice that relied on having zero faith in the traditional channels. Makes my head spin, but Light is a fascinating character because of that kind of thinking. He championed sweeping ideals of right and wrong, but couldn’t be bothered with getting in the murky details. 

But by the time he’d grown up and matured some, especially after becoming part of the police force himself, he would have know it was a possibility. At that point, I agree that he’d view it as an inevitable sacrifice in service of, but not directly reflecting, his ‘greater good,’ like the previous choices he’d made. 

So why is Kira’s ideology so often distorted? For one thing, his thinking is kind of convoluted. The anime has less nuance about what Light’s about, and many people just watch that. Another common reason I see for this is that someone really, really hates Light for defeating L, and once we dislike someone it becomes easier to roll in more and more unlikeable qualities into a nasty villain pie. Any trait that is ‘bad’ can be overlaid onto Light because he is ‘bad,’ so it fits right?? Ha....no. He has plenty of bad traits and actions of his own to drag him for without inventing new ones. At the same time, I see L’s flaws and negative traits/actions being hand-waved away or justified because he is their fav. It happened with Minoru, too. 

[thebadgerclan]

Transformation

Pairing: Remus Lupin x reader (Marauders Era)

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: Remus is suspicious of how much time you’re spending with Sirius...

@once-upon-an-imagine​

(I know I’m tagging someone in this, but I just want to say that I will not be making tag list, sorry!)

A/N: there’s a picture of your animagus form at the end, it’s soooo pretty

Also this got pretty long, but I’m really happy with how it turned out 😊

Sirius set a stack of books on the table before you, a serious expression on his face.  “Alright, here’s everything I could find on Animagi,” he said, sitting down next to you.  “Are you sure about this?”  You nodded.  You’d never been more sure about anything else in your life.  You hated seeing Remus suffer every month and knowing there was nothing you could do.  All you wanted was to be with your man while he transformed, but it was too dangerous.  But when you expressed this to Sirius, he mentioned that he, James, and Peter were Animagi and they went with Remus every full moon to help him.

So that’s exactly what you decided to do, and with Sirius’ help, you knew you’d complete the transformation quicker than they had.  “Positive,” you responded, and Sirius reached into his pocket.  In his hand was a Mandrake leaf, and you took it.  “It has to go in on the full moon,” he explained.  “And you can take it out on the next full.  After that, you have to put it in a vial that ‘receives the pure rays of the moon’.  I’ll explain more when we get closer to those steps.”  “Thank you, Sirius, really.”  “Of course.  Me and James will help you whenever you need it.”

You slipped the small vial containing the leaf in your pocket just as Remus entered the common room.  He sat down next to you, pulling you into his arms, kissing your temple.  “Hey Rem,” you greeted happily, and Remus nuzzled his face into your neck.  “Bad day?”  He shook his head, tightening his arms around you.  “Not really.  Moony’s really agitated, he needs his mate near him.”  You coaxed his face from your neck and kissed him.  “I’m here, Rem.  Right here.”  He hummed contentedly, and you gave Sirius a knowing look, as if to say “This is why I’m doing this.”  But Remus saw that look, and while he tried not to read too much into it, but Moony snarled possessively.

***

Two days later, you were up in your dorm, the Mandrake leaf in hand.  The full moon was shining overhead, and James, Peter, Remus, and Sirius had left for the Shrieking Shack a few hours ago.  You heard Moony howl in the distance, and you placed the leaf in your mouth, pocketing it between your upper teeth and cheek.  Hyper aware of the leaf now that you couldn’t remove it, you laid down and fell into a fitful sleep.  The next morning you went to the hospital wing to see your boyfriend.  He was propped up in his usual bed, eyes closed in slumber.  

You sat next to him, taking his hand, and his eyes fluttered open.  “Hey love,” he said, voice rough.  “Hey.  How was it?”  “Bad, but it’s always bad.  Missed you.  Moony was going a bit mad without you.”   “I’m sorry, baby.  I wish there was something I could do.”  Remus squeezed your hand, bringing it to his lips.  “Having you here is enough.  I love you, Y/N.”  “I love you too, Rem.”

***

He noticed almost immediately: you were quieter since the last full, almost silent.  That and you weren’t eating much, picking at your food and pushing it around the plate.  “Are you feeling alright, darling?” Remus asked one night at dinner.  It was your favorite, and yet, you’d hardly touched it.  “Hm?  Yeah, I’m fine.”  The truth was, you were fearful of talking or eating more than was necessary in case you swallowed the Mandrake leaf or let it fall out.  Sirius smirked, stifling a laugh behind his napkin.  You smiled at him, and Remus furrowed his brow, a feeling of dread filling him.  Something was going on, but he just couldn’t tell what.  But somehow, he knew it involved Sirius.  

***

There was a note on your nightstand the morning after the next full moon along with a small vial.  Y/N, you can take the leaf out of your mouth now and put it in here.  I left it on the top of the astronomy tower last night so it’s been in the moon rays.  Tonight I’ll show you where you can get the dew for the vial.  It has to be from a place where no light or people have been from a  week. After that, you just add one of your hairs and the chrysalis of a Death’s Head Hawkmoth to it and put it in a dark place.  I’ll explain more later.  -Sirius.

Relieved that the month had passed, you peeled the leaf from your mouth and pushed it into the vial.  You locked it in your trunk and got dressed, getting ready to go about your day.  That night, Sirius, as promised, came up to your dorm to show you where you could get the dew.  Remus was well enough this month to leave the hospital wing, and as he was making his way back to the Gryffindor common room, you and Sirius were going to the grounds.

“What are you two up to?” Remus asked, trying to keep the suspicion out of his voice.  “Oh, hi Remus.  Sirius is just helping me with a Care of Magical Creatures assignment.”  “At 9 o’clock at night?”  “Yeah, we figured there'd be less people around.”  Remus bit back a snide remark.  “Alright.  See you tomorrow then.”  “See you, Rem.  I love you!”  You went to him and kissed him, which alleviated a bit of Remus’ anxieties.  “I love you too, Y/N.”

You parted ways, and Sirius led you onto the grounds and into the forest.  “Just around here,” he said, turning left and going down a small hill.  “Okay, it’s down there.”  Sirius pointed to a hole in the ground that you couldn’t see the bottom of.  “It looks deeper than it is, I promise.”  You took a deep breath and nodded, taking out your wand.  You sat on the ground on the edge of the hole.  Without hesitating, you pushed forward, falling three feet before hitting the bottom.  

Lighting your wand, you found a small pool of water, and you pulled the vial with the leaf and a silver teaspoon from your pocket.  You added the dew to the vial before corking it again and climbed from the hole.  Sirius was holding another vial when you emerged, this one containing the Death’s Head Hawkmoth.  You uncorked the vial and let him add it, plucking a hair from your head and adding it as well, corking it again.

“What now?”  “Well, now you put the vial in a dark quiet place and leave it there until the next electrical storm,” Sirius explained as you made your way back to the castle.  “In the meantime, every morning and night, and sunup and sundown, you have to put your wand over your heart and repeat the incantation: ‘Amato Animo Animato Animagus’.  After a while, you’ll feel a second heartbeat when you say it.”  You’d arrived back at the castle and were now at the door to the Gryffindor common room.  Sirius gave the password and entered, you following behind him.

“Know where you’re gonna hide it?”  “I do, actually.”  “Good.”  Remus was slouched in one of the armchairs, completely out of sight but able to hear everything.  “Thank you for everything, Sirius.  I couldn’t do this without you.”  “Of course, Y/N, it’s nothing.  Night.”  “Night, Sirius.”  Remus heard the portrait hole open and close and Sirius ascend the stairs to the dorm, and he felt tears fall from his eyes.  You were cheating on him, cheating on Remus with his best friend.

***

A week passed, each morning and night you repeated the incantation with your wand over your heart.  The double heartbeat was terrifying at first, but you took it in stride.  Then, one day at lunch, the bright, sunny day turned cloudy, and lightning streaked across the sky.  “Y/N,” Sirius gasped, and you stood from the table and bolted from the Hall.  “Care to explain?” Remus asked, but Sirius shook his head.  “It’s not my place to say.”  

You ran as fast as you could to the seventh floor corridor, pacing thrice before the wall.  I need to get to my vial you repeated in your head, and when the door appeared, you threw it open and sealed it shut behind you.  There was a small cabinet on the floor, the rest of the room was a large open grassy space, specifically made for your transformation.  You opened the cabinet, crying out in joy.  The dew, leaf, hear, and moth had turned into a blood red liquid, just as Sirius had said.

Touching the tip of your wand to your chest, you repeated the incantation: “Amato Animo Animato Animagus,” and drank the potion.  You dropped your wand and the vial as you screamed in pain, feeling as if there was a second heart beating in your chest.  Then, the image of a cross fox, its fur a beautiful combination of orange and black, entered your mind, and you couldn’t help but smile.  

You felt yourself shoot downward, your hands and feet changing shape, and your nose elongating.  You opened your eyes, they’d shut from the pain, and you were about a foot from the ground.  There was a mirror directly in front of you, and you saw your form for the first time.  You had done it, you’d finally transformed!  You shouted with glee, which as a fox, sounded like a yipping noise.  Calming yourself, you focused on your human form, and you felt yourself shift back.  

Grabbing your wand from where it rested on the ground, you ran from the room, a massive smile on your face.  Sirius was waiting outside, clearly eager to hear how it had gone.  “I did it!” you exclaimed, and Sirius broke out in a smile.  “Y/N!  That’s amazing!”  He pulled you into a hug, elated for you.  But at that moment, Remus had come up the stairs, his heart plummeting into his stomach.

“Y/N?” he said, sounding simultaneously heartbroken and enraged.  You left Sirius’ embrace, your smile falling when you saw the look on his face.  “Remus, I-”  “What are you doing?  Are you cheating on me with him?”  You couldn’t help but laugh, adrenaline still coursing through your veins.  “No!  Why would you say that?”  “You’ve been sneaking around with him, not telling me what you’re up to, looking at each other like you know something I don’t.

“I heard you the other night.  Sirius asked you if you knew where you were hiding ‘it’.  You said you did.  After the last full, you were going out onto the grounds, and I know it wasn’t for class.  Y/N, if you’re cheating on me, just tell me, don’t lie to me.”  “Remus, baby, no, please.  I’m not cheating on you, I would never cheat on you!”  “Then what the hell have you been doing?!”  He looked at Sirius, but he shook his head.  “Y/N, it’s your decision.”  “Tell me!” Remus shouted, immediately regretting his anger.

“Alright,” you said, stepping forward.  “I’ll show you.”  You paced before the wall three times, the door to the Room of Requirement appearing.  “What are you doing?”  “Trust me, Remus?  Do you still trust me?”  “I do,” he said at once, following you into the room.  Once inside, you closed your eyes, focusing on the image of the cross for, and you felt yourself shift.  Remus gasped, and you opened your eyes, looking up at him.

Remus crouched before you, and you padded over to him, sniffing his hand and crawling into his lap.  He began stroking your soft fur, and you purred.  After a few moments, you crawled out of his lap and shifted back.  Remus was crying, his face in his hands, and you knelt before him.  “I wanted to become an Animagus to help you during the fulls,” you explained, coaxing his face from his hands.  “Sirius had been helping me with the transformation where he could.  Remus, I’m so sorry you thought I was cheating on you, I would never hurt you like that.  I love you, Remus, so much, and I did this for you.”

“Oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry I ever thought you’d cheat on me.  I love you so much, baby.  I love you, I love you, I love you.  Thank you for doing this, you have no idea how much this means to me, you being there will make the fulls so much easier.  I love you.”  “I love you too, Remus, I love you so much.”  You stayed in his lap for a while, letting Remus hold you, kissing your head.  Sirius had left the room, a smile on his face.  Remus’ heart had gone from nearly shattering to being fuller than it had been in years, now that he knew you could now be with him when he needed you most.

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Soulmate September - Day 12

Day 12 - You meet your soulmate in your dreams every night.

Pairing(s): Romantic Remile, Romantic Moceit, Romantic Dukexiety, Past Romantic Dukeceit

TWs: sexual language, mentions of childbirth, Remus being Remus, swearing

--

Emile Picani knew something was up with his soulmate.

Their link, as almost all did, formed when they were twelve. And right off the bat, when his soulmate kept flitting in and out of sight, he knew their first meeting would be interesting. Emile had sat up from his dream bed to see a young boy with raven hair that shone a dazzling blue in the light, and pale skin adorned with freckles that stood out like stars in the night sky. 

So sue him, Emile was going through a poetic phase. 

He’d walked over to start up the conversation, “Soulmate! Do you, how do? My name’s-”

Was as far as he got before the boy disappeared. At first, Emile panicked; what happened?! Did his soulmate hate him on sight and wake up-

Oh, there he is.

The boy reappeared, taking in Emile as he looked him up and down with his mocha coloured eyes, “Oh, you’re still here, babes. Cool.”

Huh. Interesting response, but Emile trusted in fate, extending a hand again, “As I was saying before you got spirited away, I’m Emile Picani! What’s your name?”

“Nice Ghibli reference. I’m Remy Duke,”, he yawned, reaching for Emile’s hand lazily, “Nice to meet you. So like, you’re my soulmate? I’m like, not just dreaming?”

Emile shook his head, “Nope! It’s really me! I hope you’re not disappointed- Ah, sorry, my pops says I shouldn’t say stuff like that-”

“He’s right, you shouldn’t.”, was the blunt response he got.

Sensing that he might’ve made his soulmate uncomfortable, Remy elaborated, “My ren says you should totes avoid negative thinking. Like, if you keep thinking you’re disappointing me, you’re only gonna like, reinforce that idea. And being that anxious is not a good look on you, sweetie.”

Emile wasn’t sure what to think, but the advice made him feel… really happy, actually. His soulmate cares! He went to thank him, but Remy had disappeared again. Dang. Emile waited until Remy returned, humming to himself when he heard his soulmate’s voice again,

“Whoa, you like Steven Universe?”

Emile’s smile glistened with delight that Remy had recognised the tune of Independant Together, “Yeah! Who’s your favourite character!? Mine’s Steven!! But if I had to pick a gem, I’d say Spinel’s my new favourite!” 

Remy rolled his eyes, but Emile read the gesture as a fond one, “Cool.” . He figured his soulmate wouldn’t answer further but then Remy continued, “I like Buck Dewey. He’s totes underrated. As for the gems, like, there’s no question babes. Garnet’s the best.”

Thankfully, Remy was able to stay for the rest of the night until the two of them realised it’d be morning soon.

“Oh, before you go, maybe we should find out where we both live! That way we can-”

Remy shook his head, “Nah babes. Let’s make this fun. It’s like, way too boring if we make things THAT easy.”. He noted how upset Emile looked and took pity, “Tell you what babes, how about every time we meet, we both get one yes or no question. Make it a game. First one to guess where the other lives wins.”

Emile smiled, mirroring Remy’s playful one, “Alright then! Can I go first?”

“As long as you’re quick babes.”

“Oh, right!”, Emile cleared his throat, “Are you in the US?”

With a dramatic, yet monotone sigh, Remy retorted, “Unfortunately-”

“Remyyyy!”, Emile chuckled, “You’re breaking your own rule. It’s yes or no, silly!”

Remy rolled his eyes, but the sigh he gave had nothing but fondness, “Alright, alright. Yes.”. He stretched his arms, “Same question to you babes, you stuck in this crapsack of a country too?”

“Yes.”, Emile answered, “Unfortunately.”

The chuckle he got back from Remy left him with a smile on his face as he awoke that morning. Emile wasted no time in brushing his teeth and heading to breakfast with a spring in his step to tell his fathers the great news. 

--

Unknowingly just a few miles away, another young lad awoke and dragged himself lazily down the stairs where his father and ren were having one of their early morning romantic tension arguments.

“The knife’s the pussy option, Virge!”, his father Remus had chided, shoving a handful of trix into his mouth with his bare hand, “Knives don’t do shit!”

Remy’s ren, Virgil, massaged their temples in frustration. Going by the shade of their face being somewhere between embarrassed tomato and devil’s asscrack crimson, Remy figured they’d been on this tangent for the last hour or so.

“What the FUCK do you mean ‘knives don’t do shit’?! It’s a fucking KNIFE, dipshit! What the fuck is a spoon gonna do!?”

Virgil yanked the cereal from Remus and began pouring him a proper bowl, to which the messy man scoffed, “Virge, you’re not thinking about the bigger picture!”

“What bigger picture?! We’re talking about which would be best in a casual alleyway fight, right?! Just bring a goddamn knife!”

Ah. 

Context. 

Gotta love it.

Remy walked undetected past the two of them to go digging in the hall closet dryer for his favourite shirt while his father made his case.

“That’s predictable, babe! You’re not thinking about the psychology of it, Virge!”, Remus protested, “Look, any bozo can grab a knife, big deal! Your chances of being intimidating with that alone are, what, four in ten?!”, he bullshitted, gesticulating wildly as he picked up a spoon, wielding it like a cutlass, “But if you pick a spoon!? Thats like saying “Hey I’m fuckin’ crazy”!! I’m not gonna go up against the mother fucker that picks a spoon! You know how crazy that looks!?”

“Very much so, yeah.”, Virgil deadpanned, making direct eye contact with Remus who returned that glare with a wink.

“Careful, last time you gave me that look, we had to start buying baby clothes.”

Virgil scoffed, but it was hard to hide the exhausted smirk they bore, “Oh fuck you. Take your cereal and sit down.”

Remus did neither of those things, instead wrapping his arms around Virgil’s waist and pulling them closer, “I mean, if you wanna-“

“Like, maybe we can keep the horny out of the kitchen?”, Remy piped up, watching his ren damn near leap out of their skin while his father burst into laughter.

“No promises!”, Remus jested, taking the bowl of cereal Virgil had made for him and downing it like he was chugging cheap beer at a frat party. Virgil sighed in exhaustion but gestured for Remy to have a seat at the table, “So, how’d your first soulmate dream go, Rem? Did you get a name?”

Remy slung himself into his usual seat at the table, “Yeah. His name’s Emile Picani.”

The immediate silence was palpable for a second, even Remus didn’t dare make a sound when Virgil spoke up, “Remus, wasn’t your ex’s name Janus Picani?”

Remy hadn’t seen his father in a flight or fight situation like this before; sure there was this one time in WalMart, but he didn’t have a melon baller, two packs of toilet paper, and a plunger at hand like that time. Instead, his father was armed only with a banana he had snatched from the fruit bowl and taken a bite of. With the peel still on. Speaking with his mouth full and earning a disgusted eye roll from his partner, Remus finally managed to offer a response.

--

“It’s probably not the same guy.”

Janus Picani unknowingly echoed his ex boyfriend under his breath, inaudible to his son. 

Of all the names Emile could’ve given, why’d the surname have to be Duke? He had never told his husband Patton about the whole ex-boyfriend thing; Janus thought it best no one ever knew lest he be judged harshly. Sure, he’d never exactly cared what others thought - and many did share his opinion that holding off ANY romantic or sexual activity until you met your soulmate wasn’t always entirely healthy or doable - but the idea of Patton possibly being let down or upset by the news…

Janus didn’t want to think about it. No, he wouldn’t entertain the thought. After all, he had breakfast to make, fried eggs to watch over, toast to be ready to butter when it popped up.

Besides, Duke was probably a common surname, right? 

Probably. 

Maybe.. 

Hopefully.

“Did Remy tell you where he lives, sweetie? We can always drive you over to meet him after school if it’s close enough!”, Patton chirped excitedly from the seat next to his son, unknowingly setting Janus even more on edge. 

Please say he’s across the country. Please say he’s in another state. Please say he’s ANYWHERE but close by-

“Oh, we’re making a game of it!”

Janus’ curiosity peaked, but his anxiety remained on hold just in case.

“Every time we meet, we get to ask one yes or no question, then whoever guesses the other’s location first wins! Isn’t that exciting!?”

His enthusiasm was contagious. Patton was practically bouncing in his chair, “Oh that’s so cute!! It’s just like a romcom!”, he began, then corrected, “Oh, unless you’re both platonic, don’t worry kiddo, that’s fine too-”

“Thanks popstar, but I um,”, Emile flushed a little, hiding in his pastel yellow cardigan, “I really like him. I know it’s dumb ‘cause we only just met but… but he’s so cool!”

Janus listened in on his son’s adorable recounting of the encounter; how the two had talked about cartoons for hours, and the oddity of Remy flickering back and forth from the soulscape at first. The curiosity in Janus won out as he finished cooking their breakfast and brought their plates to the table. 

“He sounds like a lovely young man,”, Janus led with, hoping to at least quell some of his fears, “Do we get to know what he looks like, perhaps?”

Patton gasped excitedly, “Yessss!! Then if we pass him on the street, we can say hello!”

Thankful for Patton’s backup, if not for the same reasons, Janus nodded and Emile enthusiastically took out his notebook to start trying to draw his soulmate from memory,

“Well, he’s got really gorgeous eyes! And lots of freckles!-”

His pencils were almost combusting at the sheer speed Emile was working up the more he got excited about his soulmate. His fathers both unknowingly thought back to his adoption; he’d been so shy at first, barely able to look either of them in the eye, but after just a couple of weeks being allowed to express himself creatively in ways he hadn’t been able to do before with his birth parents, Emile had grown into the same excitable young lad they were watching right that second. Wordlessly, Patton slid his hands into Janus’ hold, who sweetly returned the loving gesture with a soft lacing of their fingers together. 

They were inches from leaning in for a kiss momentarily before Emile excitedly announced that he was done, “This is him! Isn’t he the coolest?!”

Janus scanned the drawing, noting both his son’s artistic talent and feeling a small burst of relief. The kid didn’t resemble Remus at all. For now at least he could sleep easy knowing he wouldn’t have to face his ex again.

--

Janus ate his words three months later.

Emile and Remy had continued to meet within their dreams, playing their guessing game as always until, thanks to Patton’s help, he managed to guess close enough to Remy’s location. True to his word, Remy had given Emile the address and lo and behold, they were only a couple of miles away from each other.

Janus couldn’t say he wasn’t happy for them, he was thrilled in fact. However, as he stood at the front door of Remy’s parents house staring at the face of his ex boyfriend, he couldn’t deny the urge he had to run away immediately. The moment of silence was unbearable. Perhaps he could pretend he didn’t know- “Well shit, it IS you, Snake Face!”

Nevermind.

Janus resisted the urge to scratch at the eczema that adorned the left half of his face, clearing his throat, “It’s good to see you too, Remus.”

Patton and Emile were shocked by the revelation, while Virgil and Remy were entirely unphased. Though Remy was certainly more preoccupied by his soulmate.

Emile was so much cuter in person; his jade green eyes, his honey skin, the cute puff of purple hair, the dorkiest Disney themed sweater Remy had ever seen. It took him a second to realise he was staring too long and blocking the door.

“Oh, uh, come in or whatever, babes.”

He reached out to lead his soulmate into the house, followed by a gaggle of awkward parents.

“So, Jan, darling,”, Patton piped up, “How do you and um-“

“Remus!”, the man grinned.

“You and Remus know each other?”

Janus was about to answer with a well crafted lie when Remus beat him to the punch, “Oh! Dee’s my ex!”

The immediate silence that followed from all six occupants of the house was so much worse than Janus had anticipated. Emile sported an expression of shock, and he didn’t want to hazard seeing Patton’s face. Seeing how disappointed he’d be that he’d lied to him-

“Oh! Well that was ….. Un-ex-pected!”, Patton punned, earning mostly groans but a hearty chuckle from Remus. Janus looked over to his husband, stunned to note that he didn’t seem angry. Perhaps he’d been worried over nothing after all. 

Virgil was first to speak up as they offered the others a seat on the sofa while Remy and Emile were excused to go play video games while the adults talked.

“So I take it you didn’t tell your..“, Remus stalled, hoping Patton would fill in the pieces.

“Husband.”

“Husband,”, Remus began, “that we used to hardcore date back in the day?”

Janus felt his stomach lurch as Patton shifted beside him; neither farther away nor closer to him. Perhaps that made it much worse. 

“In my defense, Remus, we both knew it wasn’t exactly anything serious-”

Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say. It was brief, but Janus noted the flash of disappointment in Remus’ eyes. Not exactly that of a hopeful ex lover realising they didn’t have a second chance, mind you. More so someone who clearly had wanted a close friendship, or at least SOME kind of meaningful relationship with the man he’d grown close to. 

Man, Janus felt like such a bastard.

“Apologies, Remus. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh-“

“It’s fine, Snake ‘n’ Flake,”, Okay maybe Janus didn’t feel too bad, “I mean, it stings a little but whatever. We both found our soulmates, so who cares about what we got up to on campus-”

Patton cleared his throat politely, but firmly, “Sorry to interrupt but um, Virgil, was it? How long had you known about it?”

Janus knew that expression; Patton’s “I want to know how much of a fool I’ve been” face was unmistakable. Maybe he was mad at Janus after all.

Virgil snorted, playing with their hoodie strings in a stimming gesture, “Dude, his opening line when we met was “I hope you don’t mind that this ass has some mileage on it.”. Remus doesn’t do subtlety.”

Maybe if Janus wished hard enough the floor would eat him alive. Patton gave a quiet, thoughtful nod and the conversation diverted unexpectedly after that. Not that Janus wasn’t relieved, but the way Patton seemed to pivot so quickly into another topic felt all too much like he was avoiding the whole thing. Janus may be a coward, but seeing his husband try to act like the information wasn’t hurting him was so much worse. He dug his phone out of his pocket and feigned surprise,

“... Would you excuse me, I have a missed business call, it won’t take a second.”

Virgil and Remus watched him go, Patton giving him the smallest nod in acknowledgement for now as the conversation swerved back into more parenting talk. 

Janus wasn’t sure how long Patton would give it before he came out to the front porch to talk; they’d had the system in place ever since they realised Emile would get curious and listen into their conversations sometimes. Missed business calls for Janus, another long catch up with his Aunt Patty for Patton. Both were code phrases for the same thing: we need to talk.

Patton had given it five minutes before he’d come to check in on Janus. The quietness of the surrounding neighbourhood let them indulge in the tinkling from an obviously homemade wind chime dangling above the porch.

“..... I was afraid you’d be disappointed in me.”, came Janus’ quiet admission under the warm sun rays that tickled his already partially dry skin, “Or worse. That you wouldn’t want me if I told you-”

“That’s ridiculous, Jan.”

Patton rarely interrupted anyone - purely out of politeness and the goodness of his heart - but he wouldn’t stand to hear his husband of eight years talk about himself that way, “If you keep talking bad about yourself I’m going to physically fight you.”

There was no bite to his words, but more a firm tone that settled Janus’ nerves somewhat.

“I suppose, but still. I understand that you’re most likely upset with me. I lied to you. And admittedly to Remus as well, but that’s-”

“I’m not upset.”

Pat gently caressed Janus’ rough cheek, paying his skin condition no mind as he reassured him, “I am a little disappointed.”, there’s the fatherly tone, “But none of this would ever be enough to make me leave you or anything if that’s what you were worried about. You’re stuck with me.”. Patton shot Janus a sunshine smile and the cutest blep he’d ever seen, to which the latter felt his heart positively melt, “And you’re stuck with a snake boy.”

The way Patton laughed ignited his bones and sent every nerve ending in his body soaring on high. By Gods, he loved him. Of course, Janus knew he loved Patton since they’d first met in their dreams - both being rather late to establish their connection at their early 20s - from the moment he’d laid eyes on him and heard the words, “Hey there! I’m sorry it took so long to meet you! I guess I was .... Patton-Pending!”. 

“Seriously, where’re all there snake jokes slithering their way out of?”

Janus held in a snort-laugh, “Ah, I used to own a pet snake in college. She escaped the first night I stayed in the dorms and caused a minor lockdown. Once I got her back, the nickname got spread around like wildfire thanks to Remus calling me Snake Face affectionately for months.”

Janus’ sigh screamed exhaustion, but his tone spoke of fondness. Patton chuckled sweetly, “At least he didn’t mean it in a mean way. Otherwise he’d be hiss-tory if I got a hold of him!”

Goddammit, Janus was weak for his husband’s awful puns. Stifling the belly laugh that wanted to break out of him in favour of a curt snort of amusement, “I can take care of myself, fangs you very much.”. Their mutual punning session went back and forth until a knock at the door behind them reminded the two that they weren’t at home. Virgil’s voice came from the other side of the door, 

“You both alright out there?”

Patton quickly called back, “Yep! We’ll be right back in a second!”

“Cool, I’m making hot cocoa, just lemme know how you like it once you’re done.”

Janus sighed and stood up. He already began to feel tense again, but Patton gently rose and took hold of his hands, 

“You should apologise to him, y’know. Remus, I mean.”, Patton clarified, “I know you noticed.”

Patton didn’t clarify further, he knew Janus knew what he meant. The way Remus had covered up how much what he’d said before hurt. Besides, he already had something to apologise to the eccentric trash rat for anyway so..

“I know. Can you keep Virgil company for me in the meantime?”

Patton nodded enthusiastically, “Of course! They promised to show me their tattoos later anyway!”

Janus wasn’t surprised his husband was enthralled by something so artsy, chuckling softly to himself as he and Patton rejoined the others only to walk in on the Dukes rather intensely making out just shy of the kitchen island. Patton averted his eyes while Janus rolled his and just cleared his throat undeterred. 

“I do hope we’re not interrupting anything.”

Just like this morning, Virgil nearly leapt out of their skin and embarrassedly ushered Remus out of the kitchen. Patton decided to swap in and help Virgil prep the drinks, while Janus sat with Remus in the living room once again.

“I owe you an apology, Remus.”, Janus took a deep breath in, “Actually, I owe you two.“

He hazarded a look at Remus, anticipating perhaps shock or surprise, but instead the human embodiment of a muscle cramp was trying to sit upside down on the sofa next to Janus. If he were honest, Janus was more disappointed in himself for not assuming Remus would be the same mangey gremlin he’d been used to.

“You’re aware I’m attempting to be serious?”

“Yep.”

“And you’re going to continue sitting like that?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you aware that talking to you is like attempting to win a game of “But Why?” with a three year old?” 

“Mhm!”

Janus massaged his temples and Remus, thankfully, relented. He didn’t remove himself from the seat and sit like a human being, he simply flicked Janus in the side.

“You act like I’m a bitch to talk to, but fucking hell, cutting the umbilical cord was less taxing than this.”

The snarky remark did get a chortle out of Janus, “Ah, then Remy’s..?“

“Yep! Fresh outta my insides!”, Remus cackled. Janus rolled his eyes. 

“Charming.”

“Nah, that’s my brother, I’m more….. the Demented type.”

“I’m aware,”, Janus retorted, “I remember having to drag you across campus to get your stomach pumped after the Everything Cocktail you downed at the annual Halloween Party.”

Remus let out a barking laugh and nearly slid off the sofa, “In my defense, the hot sauce, caramel, chicken strip, coffee, shrimp, marinara sauce, peanut butter, and six spoons of… was it horseradish or mayo?”

“Horseradish.”, Janus shuddered.

“That’s the bitch.”, Remus continued, “They weren’t so bad. The celery was what fucking sucked ass. And the carrots.”

Ah, the nostalgia. 

Granted, the trip down memory lane was the most wonderful mix of chaotic and bumpy, but the longer he took to address the issue, the worse Janus felt. He must’ve let his expression slip because Remus immediately stopped his rambling and finally let out a tired exhale,

“Listen, if what you said earlier is still eating at you like a piranha in your gut, then it’s fine. Really. I mean sure, it sucked cactus dick knowing you didn’t feel as serious about us as I did at the time, but-”

“It wasn’t true.”, Janus cut in, “What I’d said. I was trying to soften the impact, I suppose. You did and still honestly do mean a lot to me, Remus.”

There’s the shock he’d expected. Remus’ eyes were trained fully on Janus, waiting for a sign of deceit, but thankfully, he detected nothing.

“Huh. Cool.”

It was pretty lackluster, but Janus could tell Remus was glad. At least for now.

“Actually, I wouldn’t get too comfortable yet, I have another apology to issue. Or, I suppose, another lie to set right.”

Oh boy. Janus inhaled, he’d gotten this far. No backing out now.

“When we broke up, I told you it was simply because I didn’t want to date you anymore. Then the week after, my soulmate miraculously appeared in my dreams. But that was a two faced lie.”

Remus cocked his head to the side, wincing while he tried to shuffle around and get comfy due to his gravity defying seating arrangement.

“So…. what happened for real?”

Janus sighed, “.... The week before we broke up, I met him in my dreams. Patton just appeared, and I fell in love instantly. I… I felt awful. Like I was cheating on both of you-”

“Jan-”

“Please, Remus, let me finish.”

Remus sighed, crossing his arms, which looked rather comical when upside down.

“I know you and I always said there’d be no shame if the connection eventually happened to emerge, yet when I saw him there for the first time I just-”

“You felt guilty anyway.”

It was Janus’ turn to be surprised as Remus finally rolled off of the sofa to climb back on and sit… less like a cryptid.

“Same thing happened the first time I saw Virgil.”

Remus snickered at the further shocked expression Janus sported.

“Yeah, I know. Me, King Garbage, Lord of the Thots, no brains or remorse…. feeling guilty. But I get it. It’s really different the first time you see ‘em. Either way, you shouldn’t feel bad for feeling worried or being scared, Snake Face. Although it does hurt like a skewered ballsack that you lied to me about it though. So..”

In retaliation for such a heinous crime, Remus reached over and grabbed Janus’ fancy lil hat, and with a practiced ease that had his ex both enraged and astonished, ring tossed the thing through the small opening in the window, landing it in the small decorative bird bath just outside.

“...... Remus Duke, before I beat the everloving shit out of you for old times sakes,”, Janus uttered lowley, threatening but with a familiar fondness that reminded Remus of their days causing havoc on campus and speed bullshitting essays like it was their birthright, “I want you to know that that little stunt was incredibly impressive...”

--

Upstairs, oblivious to the conversation and scuffle their fathers were enthralled in, Remy and Emile had mostly been playing games, watching cartoons and chatting away together. They’d just put on some Adventure Time when Emile looked over at Remy, noting he was falling asleep. Emile considered trying to do the same to surprise him in their dream space when Remy jolted back awake.

“Oh shit, how long was I out babes?”

Emile shook his head, “Not long. Does… that happen often?”

“Like, all the time. My sleep cycle is a roulette wheel, I’m sure of it.”, Remy lamented, shuffling closer to Emile on the edge of the bed, carefully not to knock over his laptop.

“Do you think our parents are getting along? I’m gonna like, throw hands if they ruin things with their adult bullshit.”

Emile shyly shuffled closer, leaning his head upon Remy’s, who savoured the feel of the slightly taller boy’s coiled hair against his forehead. Downstairs, Emile could hear a scuffle alongside his Papa’s worried attempts to calm down whatever was happening, and began to recognise Virgil’s annoyed interjections. He wasn’t too distressed however; his father’s upbeat tone and what sounded like Remus’ maniacal cackle assured him there was probably nothing to be worried about.

“Something tells me they’re getting along just fine.”, Emile smiled brightly at Remy, “How about one more episode then we can go check?”

----

Hoooly shit this took ages.

I promise I’m workin to catch up, I’m gonna do this or die tryin’!! For small clarifications:

- Virgil is NB/Agender and uses They/Them

- Remus is a Trans Man and uses He/Him

I didn’t specify much for the other characters purely because I could see them being anywhere on the gender spectrum, they can be whatever you prefer to read them as.

I really dunno how well this one read if I’m honest, it just kept branching from cute Remile focused fic to Families’ First Meeting kinda thing???

@tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account   @cateye-glasses   @fandomsofrandom 

[idk-maybe-i-did-it]

Problem- Remus Lupin

Older Remus x Weasley!Reader

A/N: The Weasley!Reader is 22 years old in this to begin with but is 25 after the time skip, 26 after the second one.

ANYWAY- I hope you like it @elizaphantandroses tis your request after all. I think it was a bit bad toward the beginning but it was better near the end in my opinion

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault, implied assault, blood and wounds, mild cursing

Let’s start:

Remus Lupin was in an emotional disaster.

Y/n L/n, the new Weasley recruit in the Order, he had a problem for her.

He didn’t have a problem with her work ethic or the ways he did thing, no, Remus had a problem, and his problem was her.

Whenever she was around Remus never was able to think entirely straight, he could never focus directly on his work when she was working on hers. When it was declared that she and Remus had to go on a mission together, his senses were jacked up by a megawatt and they finished up perfectly and quickly because of fear that she would get hurt.

It went the same with Y/n. Remus was her problem as well, and her mum and dad were starting to sense that.

———————————————————————

It was over, the war had ended, and everybody was finally safe.

Fred and George started a new line of products for people with P.T.S.D.

Harry and Ginny were ready, Hermione and Ron were together.

Yet, Remus and Y/n never stopped.

When Remus decided to open a bakery shop ad Y/n showed up one day to apply for a job, Remus hired her without a word and it was splendid. Molly and Arthur watched their eldest daughter as she fell in love again and waited for her to finally realize that the man she loved looked at her like she was his light and breath.

Remus, how do I say this, he loved Y/n, but he tried to tell himself he didn’t. Because he though that she deserved better; Remus thought the woman needed someone Younger, someone brighter, somebody who could give her as she needed and wanted. So, when Y/n one day walked into his house to ask him for help with a wound on her side Remus almost shut the door on her face. Until he realized she needed help.

Which of course led to this now.

“ No Remus let me in,-

“ Y/n really, I have to do something at the moment.”

He watched in sorrow as the woman leant against the door of his home, hand to her side, face screwed up in pain.

“ No Remus please, I’m bleeding out here you’re not just going to-‘

And that was when he snapped to attention and stopped with the lies. The man quickly put his arms under her legs and carefully under her waist and picked her up; moving her swiftly to his bedroom where he could asses the damage. He placed the H/c woman on the side of his bed and helped work her out of the shirt and cloak she had been wearing to reveal a knife dug into her side along with multiple bruises and two jagged cuts running down her chest to lower abdomen.

Remus had to clench his fists in anger and quickly set off to work mending the wounds and bruises, cuts and other marks. Where Remus had placed a spell to stop the blood from coming out of the knife wound he now had to remove to remove the knife itself and furthermore help her. Right before he went to remove the knife he looked up at the woman, “ This is going to hurt like hell love.”

She reached out and grasped his forearm as he went to pull it out and she bit down on her lip, her toes curling and back arching slightly. As Remus finished bandaging the wounds up he went over to his dresser and pulled out one of his sweaters, helping the panting woman into it.

“ What- Who- What the bloody hell happened Y/n?”

The girl shook her head, looking towards the floor, “ It’s nothing Remus...”

She had to stop mid sentence because a certain brown haired man looked up at her from his crouched position and gave her that look that just said ‘I am Remus Lupin, and You will cut the shit.’

“ I was cornered by a group of men on my way back home. They got a few good hits in before I got them with a jinx and Obliviated ‘em.”

Y/n attempted to moved backwards and sit up but Remus was having none of that. He was now even more pissed than before and he had good rights to be so. The man moved over and grasped his wand, waving it slightly and all the blood that had been spilled on the bed was gone then, he moved over and took the girls cloak out and put it on his coatrack before he moved back and picked up the woman, carrying her to the couch in his sittingroom.

Remus sat and placed her laying down beside him, she managed to wiggle over and place her head in his lap, arms propped up on his thigh to make her head adjust better. “ Don’t worry Rem, I’m good now. I just have to aparate home to mum so she knows I made it home and I’ll be fine.”

Remus scowled down at her and growled lowly.

“ No you’re not Y/n. You are going to stay here tonight and I’ll take you over to your parents home tomorrow and explain what’s happened.”

Y/n immediately reacted with a panicked look and slide backwards until she were sitting utop Remus’ leg. She quickly placed her hand on his leg and another on his arm to keep her body steady. “ Don’t tell mum Remus. It’ll kill her! She’s already worried enough about me being out on my own in this muggle town, if we tell her what happened she’ll freak out and I’ll never be able to leave the house anymore. I won’t be able to go to work and I won’t be able to visit the boys and gin anymore, I won’t be able to see Fred and George, I won’t be able to visit Perce and Bill and Fluer, I won’t be able to see yo-‘

Remus stopped Y/n’s panic attack and ongoing ramble by pushing her back lightly against the couch and leaning over her, engaging her mouth, lips and tongue in a very passionate kiss. The girl moved her elbows to prop herself up and reached an arm to thread it loosely through Remus’s hair and tugging on it slightly as he pulled her jaw closer to his. After a few more moments the two started to lose oxygen and Remus pulled away, panting, as he watched Y/n’s chest heave trying to get breath in.

“ I won’t tell your mum if that’s the case. Or maybe she’d let you stay s’long as you’re with me.”

The man let out a cheeky smirk at the woman underneath him and he leaned down, kissing her forehead.

“ Now let’s get you to bed love, you’ve had a rough night.”

———————————————————————

“ You’re moving back in with us.”

Y/n stood next to Remus in her childhood houses’ living room as her mum fussed over her split and sealed side.

“ No mum, I’m my own person. I can take care of myself mum-‘

“ That’s exactly what you said the Christmas of your third year when those boys felt you up and afterwards Charlie still had to hex them brainless.”

“ Dad! You can’t be going there now! We survived the war for Godics sake! I thought that would be enough to prove I could handle myself enough!”

Remus placed a hand on Y/n’s shoulder, hand shaking slightly.

“ She has a point Molly, Y/n can take care of herself. Besides, she’ll be with me. Y/n’ll be fine, it was just one thing and we went off and told the muggle policeman earlier about what had happened aswell.”

Molly, still slightly fuming, came up and moved to where her daughter was standing, engulfing the two of them in her signature bone-crushing hug.

Fred came storming down from the stairwell and lifted his elder sister, spinning her bridal style in his arms.

“ Took you long enough N/n, just give it a bit more time before I get some nieces and nephews.”

“ Shut up Fred!”

__________________________________________

1 Year Later

__________________________________________

“ Hey Rem?”

Y/n asked as she slide into Remus’ lap on Ginny and Harry’s couch. They were babysitting her little sisters newborn infant so Harry could take Ginny out with Ron and Hermione.

She had just gotten the child to sleep and had been planning on going to sleep with her Fiancé on the couch afterwards.

Remus sat up a bit straighter and pulled Y/n closer to his chest, slipping his hands under the soft fabric of the sweater of his that she’d been wearing, rubbing shapes into her soft hips. “ What is it darling?”

Y/n turned around in his lap and began to smooth down the fabric of his button-up, biting her lip.

“ Mum has so many grandkids now Rem... I think I forgot count. Do you mind counting for me?”

Remus guided Y/n legs to straddle his waist as he continued to let his hands gently make their way up her back and torso.

“ Love, your memory must be jumbled, if I recall correctly James is her only grandchild.”

Y/n began to lightly trace the feel of Remus’s shoulders through his shirt as she held an innocently ignorant look on her face.

“ No, Rem you’re forgetting one.”

Remus looked up at his love with a quizzical expression and went back to kneading shapes into her hips.

“ What’re you talking about love? You must be confused because Molly doesn’t have anymore grandchildren... Unless someone else is pregnant and just hasn’t- you’re pregnant aren’t you Y/n?”

“ It depends on whether or not you’ll be mad by my response.”

Remus sat forward slightly pulling her closer to his chest as he wiped a few stray tears from her eye.

“ Love I would never be mad about something like this...”

Y/n nodded her head slightly.

“ I mean, I already talked to Perce and he said that Lyncanthrophilia can only be transferred through a werewolf’s bite. I mean, if you don’t want to keep it I’ll have to live with that but-‘

Remus stopped her worried ranting by pulling their bodies flush, slamming his lips into hers in a gentle yet passionate kiss.

“ I want to keep it Y/n.”

__________________________________________

Drink some water, eat some food, take screen breaks and remember that You Are Loved

^ - ^

[fleetingpieces]

My One in a Million Chapter 2

Thank you @inloveoknutzy​ for proofreading and support <3 and @lumosinlove​ for your amazing OCs!!

You can read Chapter 1 here

Chapter 2 - Bad habits

“So how’s that new apartment of yours?” Alice asked over the phone. “I can’t believe you didn’t call me sooner, are you already too much of a star for your commoner friends?”

Remus laughed goodheartedly as he sat down on his bed. He’d missed Alice’s voice.

“C’mon, I’m by no means a star. And I would never forget about my best friend, you know that.”

“Ohh good, I finally dethroned Leo?”

“Ok, let me rephrase that. I would never forget about my midget best friend,” Remus corrected and laughed again when Alice cursed at him. “I’m sorry Al, it’s just been a very busy couple of weeks.”

Remus glanced around his room. It looked much more homier now that everything had been unpacked and he’d gotten himself a few paintings and decorations. Everything looked exactly as he’d imagined, and Remus felt a sense of contentment at the image.

He closed his eyes, letting the sun warm up his skin and enjoying the light breeze drifting in through the open balcony door. But when he breathed in, a strong smell of nicotine wafted to his nose.

“Fuck, not again,” Remus groaned, raking a hand over his face with an exasperated sigh.

“What? What’s wrong?” Alice asked.

“My asshole of a neighbour. I swear to god Alice, it’s like he does it on purpose.”

Throwing himself down on the bed, Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. He tried to remind himself that the guy wasn’t technically doing anything wrong at the moment, but this little thing together with everything else was cutting Remus’ patience short.

“Uh oh, are you having trouble already?” 

Remus snorted.

“You could say that.” He focused on breathing in and out before launching on a rant. “I have this beautiful balcony with a view, but I can never leave the door open cause he’s always smoking outside and somehow the smell always gets into my room which is fucking annoying.”

“Well...I guess it could be worse?” Alice said uncertainly after a moment.

“That’s not all. He sometimes leaves the garbage right outside his door for hours. I don’t know what the hell he does at midnight, but I can hear his music at the weirdest hours, and then out of nowhere there are loud screams coming through the walls.”

Alice snorted and Remus rolled his eyes.

“Not that type of screams. Like angry screams?”

As the smell became too much, Remus got up and started walking towards the door.

“And the weirdest thing is, there’s so many people coming in and out from that apartment all the time. Every day. I swear, it’s ridiculous. Is he a drug dealer or something?”

Remus thought about the past week and how confusing it had been, as he’d bumped into a lot of weird, different people.

On Monday, when he was coming back from finally doing grocery shopping, he got into the elevator with a guy with messy hair and glasses. The guy was smiling so much it was a bit weird, but he was nice enough to hold the door for Remus when they were getting off. Remus smiled as well and nodded before going to his apartment and watching as the guy disappeared next door.

On Tuesday, a bloke with red hair was going out just as Remus was coming back home; they exchanged a ‘good afternoon’ and they each went their way.

On Wednesday a tall, dark, handsome stranger smiled and winked at Remus.

Thursday, a woman with red hair and green eyes struck up an animated conversation with him when he was coming back from his morning run. Remus had actually liked her, she seemed very nice and easygoing. He wondered if she was related to the guy he’d seen on Tuesday.

When Friday came around, he’d been slightly wary as he’d stepped out to take Cocoa to the park nearby. Almost as if on cue, he heard a door open and close when he was going to the lift, and soon he was joined by a shorter man with tan skin, a snapback on his head with dark curls slipping out.

He’d had to wonder if it was some sort of silly prank. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Cause every day, for a week, he’d bumped into a different person every time he went out or came back to his apartment.

All of them coming and going from apartment number 12.

Just how many people lived there? He'd casually asked the concierge about it and was surprised when the man said it was just one guy. Someone called Black, whose description matched the one of the first guy he’d met in the building.

Alice’s huffed laugh brought him back to the present as he reached the door and peered outside. And then he felt his breath catch in his throat.

Black was standing on the edge of the balcony closer to Remus’ own, and had his back turned on him. A very tanned, muscular, bare back. Remus cursed under his breath. The guy was only wearing a pair of sweatpants, and was leaning on the rail as he exhaled a plume of smoke. The way the sun reflected beautifully over his skin and dark hair had to be illegal.

“And he’s hot! Really, his back is so sexy it’s unfair!” he said as he closed the door a bit harder than he’d meant to.

Alice cackled on the other end of the line.

“Well Rem, at least you have something to look at,” she teased. “Why don’t you go say something to him?

“I would rather avoid confrontation so early on,” Remus said as he leaned back on the glass panel, ignoring Alice’s first statement. He didn’t want to have his first neighbor fight not even two weeks after moving in. But the guy was just getting on Remus' nerves, and even if he didn’t want to be that neighbour, he knew he would soon need to set some boundaries.

“I’m sorry about that sweetie,” Alice said in a sympathetic tone. Remus hummed in reply. “I hope it didn’t ruin the excitement of moving in.”

“Nah, it’s alright. It would be nice if we could get along, but worse comes to worse I’ll just have a talk and that’s it. We don’t have to be friends or anything,” Remus decided not to mention the issue with his Mum’s painting, otherwise Alice might just show up here to kick the guy’s ass herself. Smiling slightly at the idea of tiny Alice standing up to that guy, Remus glanced at the clock and cursed. “I’m sorry Al, I gotta run or I’ll be late for my first class.”

“Ok, I’ll talk to you later, yeah? Don’t be a stranger!”

“Yeah, yeah, bye Alice!” 

As soon as Remus hung up, he scrambled through his room to grab everything he needed. He stopped only for a minute to fill Cocoa’s bowl and pet him on the head before heading out, thanking the heavens that for once, there wasn’t anyone waiting for him in the hallway.

Remus had been working non stop ever since he’d started gaining popularity online, and took a few days off to adjust to his new living space before he started working at the new studio. Not that he’d completely stopped, what with making and editing videos for the page.

Some students were already waiting when Remus arrived, but he was just in time. For the first time ever he had a fully booked class, and even some people in a waiting list in case any space would free up. Remus was so thrilled, he couldn’t keep a smile from his face.

He looked around when he entered the room where he would be imparting the yoga lesson, and the first thing that caught his eye was a head of flaming hair.

The girl was wearing black leggings and a loose shirt, and Remus recognized her at once from last Thursday. She glanced up, and surprise crossed her face before she broke out in a smile.

"Hello! You're from Sirius' building aren't you? Are you here to take this class as well?"

Remus wasn't sure who Sirius was, but given the fact that she had been to the apartment next door, Remus figured it must be his dear neighbor.

Sirius Black.

Even his name was pretentious.

"Ah, no, I'm actually the new instructor," Remus said, smiling shyly.

"Oh that's great!" the woman beamed. "My friend Natalie recommended your class, said I would not regret it. So, you're Remus?"

Remus nodded, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, pleased to properly meet you um.."

"Lily," she smiled, and Remus couldn't help but return it. It was so easy to talk to her.

Remus moved to start setting up his things while they waited for the last few students to arrive. Lily followed.

"Natalie should be here any minute, she was super excited about this. Apparently, you're pretty famous! I don't pay much attention to social media, so I haven't heard from you before." Lily smiled apologetically, but Remus waved her off.

"Oh that's not true, I'm just a normal guy that happened to have a bit of luck. I do hope you enjoy the class though." He bit his lip, wondering if he should ask the next question or if he would come off as a prying old lady, but then curiosity got the better of him. "What's the deal with all the people in that apartment? Do you all secretly live there?"

A dark look crossed Lily's face, but it was gone in a second and replaced by a small worried frown.

"No, that's just Sirius' home. I'm sorry about all the trouble, I swear it's not always like that,” she said, tugging at a strand of her hair. “Things should calm down soon...I hope."

Remus wasn't sure what that meant, but he knew asking more about it would be too nosy. It was none of his business after all, he just wanted some peace and quiet.

"Oh, I know!” Lily suddenly perked up. “We're throwing a Halloween party at Sirius' in two weeks, why don't you come over? That way you can meet everyone!"

Remus schooled his features carefully to avoid cringing. He didn't particularly like parties, the smell of smoke and alcohol, the inebriated people doing stupid shit, the many mistakes made in the thrill of the moment...yeah, Remus could live without all that crap.

"I don't know, Lily...I don't think I'm invited." And that guy and I don't really get along well, he thought.

But Lily just rolled her eyes.

"I just invited you. That flat is almost like my own home, so Sirius won't mind me inviting someone over, if that's what you are worried about."

Remus busied himself searching his bag for nothing in particular, wondering if Lily and Sirius were dating. They certainly seemed really close to each other, he could tell by the way she said his name; but how could someone as nice as Lily date that ass?

"C'mon, it'll be fun! You can make new friends, and that way it won't be so weird if you bump into any of them in the hallways again."

"I'll think about, ok?" Remus said to appease her, but he knew there was no way he'd be going to that party.

However, the look Lily gave him and the glint in her green eyes told him she wouldn't let him off so easily.

***

Later that night, Remus was sitting by the window of his living room, meditating. He’d gotten into the habit of doing it when he needed to wind down, or when there was too much on his head; and today, after a long day back at teaching, it was a good way for him to relax.

And for once, everything was quiet. No loud music coming through the walls, no people shuffling about all over the building, even the city outside seemed quieter than usual, and Remus basked in the silence that filled his ears as he breathed in deeply.

Or at least he did until he heard a loud whoop that almost made him jump out of his skin. What the hell was that?

A string of muffled words and a loud laugh followed as Remus sat there with a hand over his racing heart, trying to calm down. And even then, with his breathing completely messed up, Remus surprised himself thinking it was the first time he’d heard laughter from next door instead of just shouts, and how oddly familiar it sounded.

“For fucks sake,” he muttered, getting up.

He’d finally had enough. He’d tried to let it be and avoid confrontation, but was it really that hard to be considerate? Did he think he was the only person living here?

Breathing out, Remus made his way through the hall and knocked on the door. There was no response at first, but the noise inside quieted down. Remus waited for a bit before knocking again, a little louder than before. This time there were approaching footsteps on the other side, and he was pretty sure he could hear someone cursing.

Remus was going over his speech in his head, trying to figure out the best way to talk to this person, but as soon as the door opened, all words disappeared from his mind. Actually, every thought in his brain flew out the window as he was met by stormy grey eyes boring into his.

It was the first time he was seeing Black’s face, and why the fuck did he have to be so fucking gorgeous?

He had high cheekbones, and a jaw that was screaming to be kissed; his inky black hair held in a messy bun at the top of his head, with a few strands framing his face. Remus already knew he was fit as hell, but fucking God, those eyes.

Remus’ breath caught in his throat as he took in the slightly surprised look on Black’s face, who was looking him up and down. It was then that Remus realized he was so pissed that he hadn’t even thought about changing out of his yoga tights. His cheeks warmed up, and the thought of blushing in front of this guy annoyed him even more.

He glared at Black, who arched a perfect eyebrow.

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” he started, still trying to be polite, “I live next door, and I didn’t want to do this, but could you please keep it down? I’ve been listening to your music all week, and even if you have good taste it’s getting really annoying.”

You have good taste? What the hell was that? Remus chided himself.

Sirius glanced behind him at his apartment with mock surprise.

“There’s no music right now, is there?”

Remus rolled his eyes; he didn’t care how good looking this guy was, or how curious he was about the slight accent in his voice, he was absolutely obnoxious.

“Oh yeah, ‘cause the screaming is so much better,” Remus deadpanned. He thought he saw the corner of Black’s mouth quirk up, but he was still staring Remus down.

“Oh, I was just punishing the gang for not making the drugs faster,” Sirius said, and his mouth moved to the side, like he was biting the inside of his cheek to fight a smile.

Remus' eyes widened.

"Yeah, I'd invite you to come in and have a look, but it might be too hot in here," he continued in a teasing tone. 

"Oh my God, you heard that?" Remus fought the urge to cover his face, which he was sure was beetroot red.

"Just bits and pieces. You were talking pretty loudly," Black said, the amused smile finally appearing on his face. He leaned with a shoulder against the doorframe, looking Remus up and down again. “But hey, I could show you more of my sexy back if you really want to.”

Remus did his best to fight his embarrassment as he squared his shoulders, his expression going hard. How did this guy manage to make him so angry every time?

“I would never want anything to do with a disrespectful, self-centered prick like you." Politeness be damned, he was not going to stand here and let this man make fun of him.

Black's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he regarded Remus with new interest.

"I -"

Some voices came from inside the flat, and Black looked over his shoulder. When he turned back around, he looked Remus straight in the eye with a penetrating gaze.

"I will try to keep it down," and without another word, he closed the door in Remus' nose.

Remus just stood there for a few minutes with his mouth hanging open, absolutely bewildered, before a scowl took over his face. He turned around and marched straight into his apartment, closing the door behind him and taking a few slow breaths to calm himself.

When that proved fruitless for the first time in a very long while, he went straight to his computer and onto Padfoot’s channel. A pleased sigh escaped his lips when he saw that he was going live and clicked the video immediately. Padfoot hadn’t made a new video in a few days, which had been slightly worrying, so Remus was glad to see he was back.

When the video loaded though, Remus frowned. A game was being shown full screen, but the character was just standing there, not doing anything, and the only voices heard were from other players. Padfoot wasn’t there. The live chat was going crazy asking what happened, saying everything seemed fine and then Padfoot had just disappeared.

But a few seconds later Remus, heard a small laugh and a familiar voice talking to the viewers.

“Hey guys, I’m back! I’m so sorry about that, I was just very rudely interrupted. Although I must admit, it was a very interesting interruption. Anyway, let’s crack this thing, I left my partner alone for a long time and we all know he is as useful as a chocolate teapot.”

“I protected your sorry ass while you were away, and that’s the ‘thanks’ I get?” another voice came from the video with mock offense.

“Yeah, yeah, I appreciate your efforts Prongs, but we both know who's the one that gets things done here."

“Oh, yeah? It’s always like this with you, whenever you do something awesome it’s ‘Oh, look at me, I’m amazing’, and whenever you fuck up it’s ‘Oh, we are a team’.”

“That’s how teamwork works!” Padfoot said in his most convincing tone.

Remus laughed at Padfoot’s antics, feeling a lot better than a few minutes before, and started thinking about everything with a cooled head. He would have liked to get along with his neighbors, to have a quiet, happy life, but he could try to ignore him. He didn’t have to see the guy more than was strictly necessary. He wasn’t going to.

[residentanchor-writes]

Downside Ch. 2

Summary: Clyde tries his hand at ‘robbing’ a bank. << Chapter 1 Watch the animatic here. Check out the Downside au @robinsdownside! TW: Cursing, mental manipulation

Clyde was anxiously sitting in his trashy car in front of the bank. He wasn't too sure of the thing he was about to do. But he needed the money and he couldn’t crash at Remy’s place forever.

Checking his face in the rearview mirror again, he gladly noted that the makeup still hid his scales that seemed to like to appear more often on his face than anywhere else now. He also let his hair grow out quite a bit to hide them a little behind bangs that fell over the left side of his face. By now he nearly looked like an emo. Working with that style, he wore a gray scarf that hid the scales that had appeared on his neck as well.

Looking down on himself he wondered if his yellow shirt and black leather jacket were casual enough.

Yeah, probably. He was thinking too hard about this. Or not hard enough.

Breathing in through his nose and letting the air slowly out through slightly parted lips, he got out of his car. He could see his breath in the air in front of him. It has gotten pretty cold since he left his parents with the most valued things he had, including his pet snake, a few weeks ago.

With a faked confident walk as he squared his shoulders, he got closer to the glass door and stepped into the building.

He was extremely lucky, there were only three other people inside. Two women who worked there as the tellers and one man who was talking to the woman on the left, so Clyde went to the other teller on the right.

“Hello, sir. What can I help you with, today?” the brunette in the white blouse asked with a sweet smile.

Clyde put on as much charm as he could muster as he smiled back. “Hello there, I hope you're having a lovely day. I'm here to make a withdrawal.”

He was good at pretending to be a more likable person than he actually was. He always wanted to be an actor, but never went to any auditions for school plays because of his social status as one of the “cool kids” that smoked and drank alcohol behind the school. The entire thing was an act in his school days, but he was good at adapting to change.

“Very well, your name sir?”

“Oh, no.” He chuckled “I was under the impression that you just wanted to give it to me,” his smile widened a little.

The woman gave him an amused sound, taking it as a joke. Out of the corner of his eye, Clyde could see the other man leaving the bank. It was just him and the two tellers alone, now.

“Good one, sir, but this would be easier with a name,” The woman spoke with a chuckle. The other teller woman went into a back door and slipped away for the moment. Perfect.

“Well if you want to call me something, I think you could just go with Deceit,” He spoke with a calmness he wouldn’t have thought he could muster at this moment. He felt his hands shaking and start to sweat as he held down his nervousness.

The woman’s smile faltered a little. “Excuse me?”

Clyde looked back over her shoulder to make sure the other girl was really gone. Then, he looked back into the sweet face in front of him which got more confused by the second.

The perfect opportunity.

He looked in her deep blue eyes.

“You wanted to give me $50,000, right? That’s why I’m here.”

His left eye shimmered and glowed with a light yellow and he noticed the familiar sensation of an itch on his left forearm.

He still looked at the woman who stared back with a face he couldn’t quite put into place. It was nearly blank but still a little puzzled at his words.

That happened every time but he always felt the nervousness at that moment again and again. A million thoughts rushed into his head, like what if it didn’t work (again) or what if he phrased it wrong? Happens to the best, and this scenario was new to him.

This was the first time he did something really bad. Usually, he used his powers to get out of trouble for smaller things or to get free booze, but stealing $50,000 directly out of a bank, in bright daylight? That was insanity!

He had felt a weird sensation in his gut since he began ‘planning’ this. Honestly, this whole ‘rob a bank’ thing was an idea he and Remy had the night before while they were balls drunk in the basement of Rem’s parents. His parents that had no clue Clyde was even hiding there.

Rem was two years younger than him but was a pretty chill dude he had hung out with in school. He was the only one he could count on that wouldn’t snitch him out to anyone about his powers and where he was, because, well, he had powers too. Powers Remy’s parents weren’t very fond of, so they generally stayed away from the cellar.

The woman blinked as she awoke from a daze. The moment surely wasn’t longer than a second, but to Clyde, it felt like years.

The brunette locked eyes with him again and put her smile from the beginning back on.

“Of course, I remember now. It will only be a second, Mr. Deceit.”

--------

“Fuck! I did it!”

Clyde opened the basement door so fast he nearly broke it out of the old, rusty hinges. A very startled Remy, who looked like he had just been woken up, fought his way out of the blanket that had been lying on him.

He had been sleeping on his disgusting makeshift bed, which was made of just two stacked mattresses on top of the cold concrete ground. The basement looked like it should have been finished years ago but no one ever bothered to finish the job. At night, they took one of the mattresses off and slid it onto the floor next to the other so that Clyde didn’t have to sleep out on the bean bag. They had tried that the first night, but it resulted in a stiff back and a very grumpy Clyde in the morning.

Clyde-- er, Deceit moved a few steps forward, to click on the floor lamp that only had an old light bulb screwed on top and no lamp shade. The lightbulb was a normal, fluorescent bulb which somehow exclusively produced greenish light. Clyde had asked about that the second day he had stayed here but Remy too didn’t exactly know why either, not that he cared.

With the light, the messy room had become a little more visible. It was even dirtier than Clyde's old room had been, especially since he had moved in. They both didn’t really care enough to clean all the filthy clothes of the ground except when they ran out of fresh clothes, in which case Remy had to go upstairs with a decent sized pile that was unsuspicious to his parents since they didn’t have to know about Clyde’s existence in Remy’s room.

If they found out about the other kid with powers in their basement? That would mean massive trouble for both of them.

Remy’s guardians were already not on best terms with their son since he had intruded their dreams by accident on more than one occasion. They didn’t hate him but Remy had sometimes messed up their sleep so much that they were first confused what was happening, then they screamed at him to stop and at last, they started to get him out of the way.

He was ok with that. He was just in his basement room, enjoying his life without the worry that his parents would storm in.

But if they knew that he invited someone else to live at their house without their knowledge, they would be very mad. They would probably scream at him again and would call Clyde’s parents, even though he was actually old enough to live on his own, as a 19-year-old. Clyde just didn’t have the money to live on his own. He had been fired a few months ago from his job at the pet shop.

He had to leave his home weeks ago in order to hide his powers from his family as the scales became more and more obvious, so he came to the only one he knew that would at least understand.

It wasn’t much fun sleeping next to someone who had the ability to go into your dreams whenever both of them slept at the same time. Rem didn’t do it on purpose of course, the closer you sleep next to him the more likely it is that he just stumbles into your dream by accident. That's why he had to sleep in the basement, while his parents slept on the third floor. They simply wanted him as far away at night as possible.

What the two did all day now was lying around in the dirty cellar on the green bean bag and the mattresses and talked about everything and nothing. Somedays they played games on the old arcade machine Remy had or they had matches on his kicker, all while smoking pot or drinking beer Clyde brought back every time he went out.

But not this time. This time he brought something better. Money. And lots of it.

Remy tried focusing on the guy with the weird scales in front of him as he blinked the sleep from his eyes, “Wha-?”

Deceit ripped away the blanket and threw a full plastic bag him. It hit him in the chest, where you could read ‘Never SLEEP again’ on a gray shirt, and caused him to lay down again with the bag sitting on top of him.

“I said I did it! I actually did it, I stole the money!” Deceit stood proudly next to the ‘bed’, hands on his hips, with the broadest smile Remy had ever seen on the guy. It kinda creeped him out, to be honest.

Then the bank robber turned around into the direction of the old foosball table and lifted his arm triumphantly into the air and tilted his head back so he looked at the ceiling.

“Oh my god! I feel great! This was way better than drugs!” he screamed in euphoria.

Remy leaned up on his elbow and let the bag fall next to him on the bed.

“Flippin’ shut up, man! You're gonna wake the whole street shoutin’ like that.”

Deceit turned his head back to his friend, puzzled.

“It's 5 in the afternoon?”

“Oh really? I'm up early,” the sleepy head grinned.

Deceit made a face at him that could only have meant ‘you fu**king serious?’

Rem's eyes fell on the plastic bag next to him. With one hand he lifted a handle and looked inside. His eyes widened, only now had he realized what Deceit had actually done. He shot up straight on the mattress and put the bag on the ground so he could take a bundle of hundred dollar notes out. He ran a finger across the stop slowly as the reality of the situation began to sink in.

“Jesus Christ, you actually did it?!” he looked up shocked at the criminal who now faced him again. With the head movement, the green shade sunglasses that had apparently been lying on his purple dyed and messy hair the whole time he slept, fell onto his nose.

“Hell yeah, I did! And it was so easy too! Like stealing a lolly from a baby.”

The seventeen-year-old sitting on the mattresses gathered himself enough to get a little of his sass back.

“Cliché.” He looked back down to the pile of money. “Jeez, how much even is this?”

“50,000 bugs,” Dee’s eyes sparkled saying that.

“Holy shit. Holy shit, I can't believe it! I thought we were just joking around yesterday! We were drunk for fucks sake!”

Remy would have never thought that Clyde would actually do something this incredibly stupid. They just talked like idiots about how they could have anything they wanted if they used their powers more, not that he ever actually considered doing so.

“Come on, just imagine what we can do with that much money!” Deceit stepped closer to him, gesturing with his hands.

“With the stolen money.”

“No one knows that!”

“Babe, don't you think 50k will be missed? Where did you even get that from? The bank like we said?” he took his shades with his forefinger and thumb on the rim of the glasses and slid them down a bit so he could look into Deceit's eyes.

“Yeah and no, no one knows I took the money. I made sure the woman was the only one there and I just made her give it to me.”

“50k in cash. Someone will miss that! They’re going to notice that much missing! Did you think of the cameras?” Rem’s eyebrows furrowed as he put his shades back on properly.

“I do not like to repeat myself. She just handed it to me! It looks completely innocent on camera. And as far as she knows, that money belongs to me.”

Deceit got frustrated with his friend. Just the night before he also loved the idea and now he was lecturing him?!

“You can't keep the money here, babe. I'm not ok with that much stolen cash under my roof!”

“It will be gone soon anyway.” He tried again to reason. This was a good thing, why couldn’t he see it?

“You need to leave,” The voice sounded monotone.

Deceit’s shoulders fell. “What?”

“Clyde, sweetie, don’t get me wrong. I'm totally up for all kinds of stupid shit but that's a bit too far man and I really don't want to get in trouble because of you.”

“So, you're throwing me out?”

“You have enough money to rent a hotel room,” he said gesturing to the bag at his feet.

Deceit looked with disbelief into the green-tinted sunglasses that hid Remy’s emotions pretty well.

How could he just throw him out? He thought the other would be happy about the money. He would have even shared it with him for letting him stay here, but now…

He growled “Fine. I'll leave. I don't need you anymore anyway. I can do whatever I want without you. Just don't come crawling back to me when I'm ruling the city.”

“Sure thing rip-off Disney villain.”

“You've seen the last of me.”

With that Deceit took his luggage, bound the bag of money to it and lifted a small terrarium with Terrence in it under his arm and left the basement.

Remy let out a shaky breath into the stifling air of his room.

For a second there, he had been afraid that Clyde- no, Deceit would use his powers on him.

---- Chapter 3>>