#and the first thing she does after declaring war? spending the entire night over her group's name!

[amebelladonna]

This is your friendly reminder to NEVER trust the Adrestian Trio with naming things. (or do, idk you do you ig)

[atlasdoe]

The Tortured Poets Department as The Marauders Era (part one)

grab a drink, i'm about to talk your ear off

Fortnight - Regulus Black & James Potter

From Regulus' POV

I headcannon that for a short period James and Regulus were together in secret where only Sirius, Pandora and Alice knew about their relationship. They broke up during James sixth year and Regulus' fifth after Regulus started ignoring James because he was mad at James for "helping" Sirius run away. (he has a bit of a victim complex)

To me this song is Regulus looking back on his relationship with James. "I was a functioning alcoholic, til nobody noticed my new aesthetic" feels like something Regulus would definitely do. He puts on this big show just to see if anyone would notice but nobody ever does. It's the youngest sibling in him.

"All this to say I hope you're okay, but you're the reason, and no one here's to blame, but what about your quiet treason," is Regulus referring to Sirius running away. Regulus saw it as James choosing Sirius over him and although James didn't want to choose, if he had to, he would choose Sirius.

The chorus i think speaks for itself. "And for a fortnight there, we were forever, run into you sometimes, as about the weather, now you're in my backyard, turned into good neighbours, your wife waters flowers, i want to kill her" being Regulus' thoughts on the relationship. They thought they could've been forver but was quickly reminded of who they were and where they were. Now they hardly speak but because of circumstances (the war, the small small wizarding world) still have tabs on each other. And ofc Lily being James' wife and Regulus hating her. Possibly not only because she married James and because James loves her more then he ever loved him, but also because she's muggleborn.

In the second chorus it changes slightly to "My husband is cheating, I want to kill him" Regulus' "husband" is Voldemort and he's cheating in the war with the horcruxes. And ofc Regulus wants to kill him for bringing Kreacher into it.

Despite the fact that James moved on I don't think Regulus ever did. I think he tried, but what he had with James was the closest thing he had to having it all.

"I love you, it's ruining my life, i touched you for only a fortnight"

The Tortured Poets Department - Emmeline Vance & Remus Lupin after 1987

From Emmelines POV.

I am the only person who thinks this because I am the only person with this headcannon but I stand by this with my entire soul.

To give you the short version, in my headcannons Emmeline and Remus spend the majority of the 80s together because Emmeline is a talented healer and is asked by Dumbledore to take care of Remus after the full moons

They have a really solid friendship for the first half of the eighties until something happened in 1987 (which i won't bore you with) and it makes their entire relationship crumble

I am obviously looking at this song from a platonic prospective here. Lyrics such as "You smokes then age seven bars of chocolate, We declared Charlie Puth should be a bigger artist" reflects the late night conversations they had and the meaningless of it all. They weren't friends because they got along, they were friends because they were the only ones left from the younger ones of the Order. But the "who's going to hold you like me?" is also true. They were all each other had and it was enough and without it they were empty.

They were putting up with every demon in each others heads because it had to be worth it because if it wasn't then where would they be?

My Boy Only Breaks His Favourite Toys - Pandora Lovegood and Regulus Black

From Pandoras POV.

I feel like not many people speak about how damaging their friendship could've been for Pandora. Keeping in mind that Regulus had always been a purist and believed in Voldemort enough to keep photos and arrivals about him and his followers hung in his bedroom.

I think Pandora loved Regulus but Regulus was a hard person to love. There was only one way for Regulus to go and he was dragging Pandora down with him.

I think lines like "here we go again, voices in his head, called the rain the end our days of wild" could reflect how Pandora felt once Regulus got the mark or was close to getting the mark. I don't think Regulus would've ever told Pandora straight up that he was a death eater but I definitely think she knew anyway.

Regulus had a phase where he kept trying to get Pandora to leave. He didn't want to drag her down with him but it was either that or she goes. Without telling her why exactly he no longer wanted her around he was pulling her back and forth. She didn't want to leave. She wanted to go back to the time when they were best friends without consequences which i think shows with the outro. "Just say when, Id play again, he was my best friend down at the sandbox, i felt more when we played pretend"

Down Bad - Remus Lupin after 1981

I think this is very obvious but I will go into detail anyway

I don't think this is just about Remus' thoughts towards Sirius but also to James, Lily and Peter.

Remus (as much as he didn't want to) felt resentment towards his friends for what happened. He was gone with the werewolves and risking everything for them just for them to die anyway! It wasn't right for him to be mad at them but he was anyway. "Tell me I was the chosen one, showed me that this world is bigger than us, then send me back where i came from" is how i think he was feeling in terms of them. Remus spent the majority of his childhood thinking that he would never have any friends other then his parents. He meets the Marauders and is silly enough to think that everything would be okay just for him to end up friendless again at the age of 21

And then we have Sirius which... of corse this is about him.

"I loved your hostile take-overs, encounters closer and closer, all your indecent exposers, how dare you say that it's? I'll build you a fort on some planet, where they can all understand it, how dare you think it's romantic, leaving me safe and stranded? Cause fuck it i was in love, so fuck you if i can't have us"

The words kinda speak for themselves

So Long, London - Mary MacDonald leaving the wizarding world

I don't think Mary is speaking/thinking about one particular person here but the entire wizarding world as a whole. Those she loved and didn't.

Being a Muggleborns would be hard enough to to be one of the only ones in your house must’ve been worse. Lily had Severus to help her navigate the wizarding world while Mary had no one and while also being friends with Sirius, James, Peter and Remus who all were from wizarding families it was easy for her to feel left out in the world.

With such events such as Mulciber’s attack on her and seeing the constant attacks on muggle families she felt unwelcomed. “I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist, I kept calm and carried the weight of the riff” is Mary putting up with all of the bigotry from her classmates because she saw the magic that the world had to offer. She loves her friends and loves being a witch. She loves Hogwarts and Quidditch and she wants the world to accept her but no matter what she does they won't

I think it also sucked for her to see her muggleborn friends thrive. Lily became head girl and married James and had Harry. Dirk also found love and became quidditch captain. Dahlia found a way to incorporate magic into her muggle job (preforming) and also found love. Meanwhile Mary couldn't seem to get a break. The lyrics "you swore that you loved me, but where were the clues? i died on the altar waitin for the proof" isn't her speaking to someone but more so like a wizard god (not dumbledore) She's saying "where's my reason for staying? where's the love of my life? where's the passion that's going to make this worth it?"

The Bridge is her as she leaves. In my hcs she leaves right before everyone joins the Order. She was considering it but decided against it and left while leaving five letters behind. One to James & Lily, Dirk, Marlene, Remus and Dahlia & Camelia explaining herself.

"And you say I abandoned the ship, but i was going down with it"

"my friends said it isn't right to be scared"

and the chorus

"how much sad did you think i had, did you think i had in me? how much tragedy? just how low did you, think i'd go fore id self-implode? fore i'd have to go be free?"

But Daddy I Love Him - Andromeda Black & Ted Tonks

From Andromedas POV

Do I even need to explain this?

I feel like I should just for the sake of the post but I'll just feel like I'm mansplaining (says the person who isn't even a man)

LIKE ITS JUST SO THEM

"I just learned these people only raise you, to cage you" is sooooo the black family

"Dutiful daughter, all my plans were laid" "Growinf up precocious sometimes means, not growing up at all" LIKE HELLO???? ANDY IS THAT YOU???

"stay away from her, the saboteurs protested too much" being Bellatrix trying to stop them because she knew how bad it could end but Andy not caring

The only thing that doesn't match is that Andromedas family does not come around at all (looking at you Bellatrix "let me kill my niece" Lestrange

BUT OTHER THEN THAT ITS PERFECT

Fresh Out The Slammer - Sirius Black & Harry Potter

Listennnnn, I know we were all thinking wolfstar and trust me i was half finished writing about them to this song but this is Sirius and Harry.

"Now pretty baby, im running back home to you, fresh out the slammer i know who my first call will be to" speaks for itself i think. One of the first things Sirius did after escaping Azkaban was seeing Harry at private drive. He didn't need to be there, he knew Peter wasn't there. He was there because he had to see Harry. He had to remember who he was doing this all for

The pre-chorus being Sirius while he was locked up. "In the shade of how he was feeling" could represent Sirius spending a big part of his time in Azkaban thinking about what Harry must think of him.

"As i said in my letters, now that I know better, I will never lost my baby again" Sirius always being there for Harry even while on the run. He continued sending letters and even stayed in a cave just to be close to him

And "My friends tried but i wouldn't hear it, watch me daily disappearing, for just one glimpse of his smile" could be so many instances. Sirius going to Harry's Quidditch games, Sirius going to king's cross, Sirius staying in the cave, Sirius going to the Dursleys

"Now we're at the starting line, I did my time," being Sirius and Harry both thinking that the worse was behind them once they were reunited. Sirius offering Harry to live with him and Harry accepting immediately. All they wanted was each other and the family that they brought to each other.

The entire song is Sirius anticipating the life he could now have with Harry after Azkaban. After killing Peter all Sirius wanted to be was a good Godfather to Harry and he was ready to take it the first moment he got.

"No matter what i've done, it wouldn't matter anyway, ain't no way i'm gonna screw up now that i know what's at stake here."

"It's going to be alright, I did my time"

Florida!!! - Lucinda Talkalot leaving the wizarding world

This is going to be another one that only I think

Florida!!! is about escaping your issues and having a fresh start. I can see Mary being for this song also but I think it suits Lucinda's mindset a lot more

For anyone who doesn't know, Lucinda Talkalot was the Slytherin Quidditch Captain during 1976 and everything Im about to say is purely based on my own headcannons. But let me cook

In my headcannons Lucinda is a muggleborn and quickly gets tired of the wizarding world. She's sick of the bigotry and drama of it all and preferred her life as a muggle much more. Therefore she moves to America and doesn't look back, loving the rest of her life as a Muggle

Unlike Mary, Lucinda isn't doing this sadly. Mary didn't want to leave but felt the need to to keep herself and her family safe while Lucinda just doesn't want to be a witch anymore

I have a hc where it's common in the wizarding world to get married and start families early because of how small the wizarding population actually is. Unless you marry a muggle, someone from a different country (sometimes continent) or someone who is either 7 years older or younger then you in the wizarding world it's expected that you'll meet your future spouse while at school. The line "my friends all smell like weed or little babies" to me indicates that from Lucindas POV where her muggle friends are being young while her wizard friends are growing up too fast and making her feel unbalanced

Lucinda just needed a new start as many of us do but felt trapped in her life with the wizarding world attached to her. "yes in haunted, but i'm feeling just fine, all my girls got their lace and their crimes, and your cheating husband disappeared, well, no one asks any questions here" is her basking in the idea that no one is going to know anything about her once she leaves. While Mary was running away from something, Lucinda was running towards.

Despite being a muggleborn, i don't think Lucinda cares too much about the war. I think she had the mindset of "so long as they're not doing anything to me i don't care" She justified this mindset through her being in Slytherin and deciding that being quiet about the war was her best chance of survival. Because of this I don't think she properly digested the war for what it was. She left seeing the war as nothing but "wizard drama"

The bridge "I need to forget so take me to florida, i've got some regrets, i'll bury them in florida. tell me i'm despicable, say it's unforgivable, at least the dolls are beautiful, fuck me up, florida" Is her buried down guilt for leaving whatever friends she did have in a war Lucinda never let herself know how bad but she can't find it in her to go back. She just didn't want to.

Guilty as Sin? - Amelia Bones & Pandora Lovegood

Amelias POV

Oh closeted Amelia Bones who is deeply in love with Pandora Lovegood but never tells anyone other then her brother because she grew up in such a strict household in the 70s my beloved <3

But seriously we did all hear the queer undertones right? right?????

And the religious language that's used throughout the song??? y'all HAVE to be seeing the vision

And this is another headcannon that only I seem to have and I think I explained it enough (it isn't that complex tbh) but let me go into some more detail if that's okay with you

So i hc Amelia and Edgar Bones to be from a very well respected family but their grandfather nearly lost everything for the Bones family by being a deadbeat and an alcoholic. Because of this their parents are extremely strict on their children. They're obsessed with being the perfect family and "succeeding" as parents by having their children be and do great things

Their older brother Jamie gets eveything right. He becomes a healer, marries his "highschool sweetheart", has three daughters, all that jazz. Edgar (who is Amelias twin and seven minuets younger) is a mess. He fails so badly that his parents have to lie to everyone about how he died for damage control (but that's another story) And Amelia is somewhere in the middle. She becomes Head Girl, she's very smart, she starts working for the Ministry but shes a lesbian and her parents would not like that one bit

Amelia is just as obsessed as being perfect as her parents are. She wants to make them proud and be the daughter they wanted and knows the fact that she's a lesbian will make them turn on her. It doesn't matter how perfect she is.

Amelia falls in love with Pandora while they're at school and never falls in love with anyone else and it kills her that they can't be together

Guilty as Sin? is Amelias guilt when it comes to loving Pandora. Not only does she have them guilt of loving her best friend who is with someone else (Xenophilius) but also a girl

"I dream of crackin locks, throwin my life to the wolves or ocean rocks" is Amelia considering what would happen if she was to be honest with her feelings. If she told Pandora how she felt she would risk throwing everything away

"Someone told me there's no such thing as bad thoughts, only your actions talk" reminds me of something i learnt while at school. I went to a Catholic school and while there we talked about how the church views gay people. We were told that The Catholic Church has no problem with people being gay so long as they don't act on it. Here Amelia could be repeating that statement to herself as a safety net. So long as she doesn't do anything she's still perfect.

All this being said, she's still just a girl who's in love with her best friend and she spends her entire life waiting for it to be okay; for Pandora to come to her. "If it's make-believe, why does it feel like a vow we'll both uphold somehow?" Is Amelia still hoping and still waiting for Pandora to want her back

The bridge "If long suffering propriety is what they want from me, they don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly, i choose you and me religiously" reminds me of something i wrote for Amelia and Pandora a while ago. Here's a little part of it:

Tell her, the voice in her mind screamed. Tell her everything. That this is more than friendship for you. That you love her the way she loves Xenophilius. Tell her every single thing your rotten mind thinks. Tell her that she’s the only reason why you’re still alive. Tell her that she’s kind and caring and beautiful. Tell her that she brightens your day just by smiling and that everytime you see her sad you feel like carving out a hole in your heart. Tell her about all the things you would do for her if only she’d give you the chance. Tell her about all of the times you fell harder and harder for her eyes. Tell her that she is loved. Tell her that you love her and that you will always love her no matter what she does. She could scream at you, she could ignore you, she could kill someone, or hurt someone, or burn the entire world to the ground and you wouldn’t even blink. Tell her that she could choose every single slytherin, every single boy over you and you would still run whenever she came calling. Tell her that no matter what she is loved, because she is Pandora Lovegood and you are Amelia Bones and there is not one universe where she is not the love of your life, even if there isn’t one where you are the love of hers.

And essentially that bridge is exactly what I was trying to come across with that. In the end, she'll choose Pandora if only Pandora would let her.

And ofc the chorus speaks for itself

"What if he's written mind on my upper thigh only in my mind? one slip and fallin back into the hedge maze, oh what a way to die, i keep recalling things we never did, messy top lip kiss, how i long for our trysts, without ever touchin my skin, how can i be guilty as sin?"

Who's Afraid Of Little Old Me? - Severus Snape

There are so many people who this song could've been for in my mind so let's go through some honorable mentions before we get to Severus

My first thought while listening was Juliette Wilkes and how dangerous she could be behind the scenes. To me Juliette was a complete bitch. She was heartless but her reason for being was her desire to be loved. For whoever reason she knew she wasn't getting the happily ever after she was promised at childhood so she gave people a reason to hate her. She fought and bit and bitched and laughed.

I next went to Peter Pettigrew. Peter who was constantly overlooked by his peers and teachers, who pulled off the perfect betrayal because "who would be afraid of little old Peter?" I once compared Peter to the Earth in my writing and u stand by that statement wholeheartedly. Peter, like the earth, was collapsing in on himself because of the lack of care from others. I think the beginning of the bridge speaks the most for Peter.

We also have the obvious choice of Sirius Black speaking mostly to his family. Sirius being mad at what they did and who they made him.

There was also Dorcas Meadowes going on a killing spree after the death of Marlene. To me this song could've easily been Dorcas speaking to Regulus, Evan and Barty. Asking the question of if they only were friends with her because they thought she'd do nothing. Did they think she would sit by and let them get away with it? She's a very close second.

Finally theres Lily Evans, the muggleborn who killed The Dark Lord and ended the first wizarding world. Do I even need to say anything else?

It even could've been Remus Lupin if he had embraced his villain origin story

But despite all of that I think Severus takes the cake with this one and I think the best way to explain myself is to tell you exactly what I relate some of the lyrics to in a fast and speedy way.

"If you wanted me dead, you should've just said, nothing makes me feel more alive" Snape knowing more dark curses in his first year then the seventh years. I don't see Snape as a helpless victim to the Marauders. He fought back and I believed he liked that. He armed himself with the spells he created.

"The Scandal was contained, the bullet had just grazed, at all costs, keep your good name" The Prank. I've ranted and raved about how the prank meant nothing to The Marauders and how everything stayed the same for them but for Snape? Dude was nearly murdered by a werewolf and things just carried on as normal!! Would you be normal after that?

"Is it a wonder I broke? Let's hear one more joke" they didn't call him Snivellus Snape with affection

"I was tame, I was gentle til the circus life made me mean" "the circus life" being the wizarding world. the Marauders jokes, the friendship with Lily dissolving, the pressure of the death eaters and Malfoy

"Don't you worry folks, we took out all her teeth" Dumbledore constantly telling people during the second war that Snapes no longer a death eater. "don't worry, voldemort killed the women he loves so he ain't going back lol" (he didn't say it like that but you get my point)

"So tell me everything is not about me, but what if it is?" Severus being a spy for both sides while really just being a spy for Dumbledore. Severus the one who killed Dumbledore. Severus the one who led Hogwarts during its darkest days. Severus who was there when Pettigrew got away. Severus who taught the chosen one occlemancy (idk if i spelt that right) Severus who died willingly to "help" The Dark Lord. Severus who gave the chosen one the right information at the right time while on his death bed

"Say they didn't do it to hurt me, but what if they did?" Voldemort, Dumbledore, Lily, Lucius, The Marauders (tho they definitely meant to hurt him), i could go on.

"I wanna snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me" Save Charity and let your self go. Fight McGonagall or you'll be found out. You have to put whatever you had with James aside for the sake of the world. Don't actually fight in the battle of the seven potters!! you can't let them know who's side you're on. Betray everyone you've ever known for the sake of the greater good. And when Voldemort is about to kill you don't tell him everything, don't kill him first. you cant. your job is to die for the cause. you don't get closure.

"You wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me" His abusive father. Slytherin house.

"Isn't that what they all said? that i'll sue you if you step on my lawn, that i'm fearsome and i'm wretched and i'm wrong" Severus' life as a teacher. I don't think there was one kid who actually liked him.

"Put narcotics into all of my songs, and what's why you're still singin along" to be reflects everyone constantly going to him for help. Bellatrix and Narcissa. Voldemort. Dumbledore. Even Harry trusted Snape enough to tell him about Sirius in his desperation. When worse comes to worse they're all willing to put their pride aside.

"Who's afraid of little old me? you should be" From a poor halfblood boy with no friends to the right hand man of both Dumbledore and Voldemort

The best way to explain why I picked Snape over everyone else is because while for the them I can relate certain parts of the song to them, with Severus the entire song screams him.

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can) - Dorcas Meadowes friendship with Regulus Black, Barty Crouch Jr & Evan Rosier

From Dorcas' POV

Y'all ever had a friend who you've known since you were young and while you were growing up they just kept getting worse and worse? Dorcas Meadowes has

Similar to Pandora I don't think we talk enough about how Dorcas' must've been feeling as Regulus, Barty and Evan got closer to the dark side

While i hc that Pandora happily let go of Barty and Evan and came to terms with them becoming Death Eaters quickly with Dorcas it was a much different story.

I think Dorcas would've wanted to hold onto them a lot more. In my headcannons Pandora is the eldest of the skittles and is a year above Dorcas and Evan. Barty and Regulus are a year below them. I think Pandora had other friends besides just them. (Amelia, Edgar, Fabian, Gideon, Benjy and Caradoc who were all in the same year as her) but Dorcas didn't. Those boys were her closest friends and although she knew the path they were going down she was still holding onto the fact that they might change their minds

"The jokes that he told across the bar, were revolting and far too loud" being anytime Dorcas heard them say anything against muggles or muggleborns. When he heard Evan in class agreeing with Bruce Mulciber a little too much for her liking

During the time where Evan, Barty and Regulus were becoming more and more bad I also hc the time where Dorcas and Marlene get together. So Dorcas starts hanging out with Marlene and her friends a little more. "They shake their heads sayin God help her, when i tell em he's my man, but your good Lord doesn't need to lift a finger, I can fix him, no really, I can" is Dorcas defending the boys whenever they become the topic of conversation. She goes through a phase of "you don't know them like i do"

The bridge is Dorcas' hope, thinking that what she was doing and saying (though i don't think she did/said a lot tbh) was working. "Good boy, that's right, come close" is her inner monologue when they do anything right and "Trust me, I can handle me a dangerous man" is her response to people showing genuine concern for her.

The ending "Woah, maybe I cant" is the realisation and to me the exact thought that went through her mind when she found out that they joined Voldemort.

loml - Emmeline Vance & Edgar Bones

From Emmelines POV

There are a total of 5 Edgarline shippers and i live to serve them and them only

And this song just screamsssss them after Edgar dies

In my hcs Emmeline and Edgar break up before Edgar dies but they do so with the intention of getting back together once the war is over and they're both in better places. Their survivors guilt and the pressure of Edgar being an auror and Emmeline being a healer was getting too much for them and when they started taking their grief out on each other they decided to hit pause.

To me the beginning perfectly represents their break up. "Who's gonna stop us from waltzing back into rekindled flames" being their desperation to be together again. "We were just kiss babe, I said "I don't mind, it takes time" i thought i was better safe than starry eyed" is their reasoning for breaking up. Putting themselves and the war before their relationship

The line "you blew in with the winds of fate" could be interpreted two way and both of them i think match Edgar during the war. The first one is the effects of drinking as "the winds of fate" can be utilised as british slang for "a strong drink" I hc that Edgar struggled with alcoholism during the war and especially after the death of his two best friends Fabian and Gideon Prewett.

The second one is that the person is fading or being taken away by the power of destiny which I also hc Edgar to have struggled with. As I said while speaking about Amelia, the Bones parents were very strict on who they wanted their children to be and although Edgar was terrible at keeping up to his parents expectations he was still constantly trying. The only reason he joined the Order was because he felt it was his responsibility to as an auror and the only reason he became an auror was to please his parents.

The bridge is Emmeline thinking on their relationship after Edgar had died. "You shit talked me under the table, talkin rings and talkin cradles, I wish I could unrecall, how we almost had it all" reflects on how they really thought that they would be together in the end. At not one point after breaking up did either of them consider the fact that it was truly over.

"Dancing phantoms on the terrace, are they second hand embarrassed, that i can't get out of bed, cause something counterfeits dead?" The phantoms are the past versions of Emmeline and Edgar, looking at their future selves and seeing how their "fake breakup" is now dead. the break is permanent and Edgar died without Emmeline as his partner. Emmelines wonders if their past selves would be embarrassed that they let their relationship end the way it did

The first chorus is Emmeline looking back on them after his death. "If you know it in one glimpse, it's legendary, you and I go from one kiss to getting married," is their relationship while it was good. "still alive, killing time at the cemetery, never quite buried," is them during the war before their breakup while they were still clinging on. "In your suit and tie, in the nick of time, you low down boy, you stand up guy, your holy ghost, you told me in the love of your life,"

In cannon, when Edgar is mentioned it's said that "they got him and his family." We know that by this Moody couldn't mean Edgars parents and siblings like we hc with Marlene because Amelia is still alive at the point. To get around this I make the ending of Edgars life way too complicated and messy but good for the plot.

As I mentioned before both Emmeline and Edgar are suffering with their mental health and Edgar is not handling himself well at all and is drinking a lot. One night after Edgar and Emmeline had broken up Amelia takes him out but has to leave early because she got called into work. Edgar stays, get smashed and meets a muggle women. Long story short he gets her pregnant during a one night stand. She doesn't know if she wants to keep it or not but Edgar tells her that no matter what he'll support her decision. If she chooses to keep the child, he would be in their life.

He tells Emmeline all about this as soon as he can and makes sure that she knows that he doesn't want it to change anything between them and for the most part Emmeline agrees. I bring this up because I think this moment is represented in the second chorus. "All those plot twists and dynamite, Mr Steal Your Girl, then make her grey, you said i'm the love of your life"

The ending is Emmeline never being able to let go of their relationship because of the lack of closure. I do hc that Emmeline finds love again, and in her lifetime will find herself a wife and step mother a child. But even up to her death she will always be thinking of him because they weren't supposed to end. Edgar was killed, taken from her before they got to reach their full potential. Their story wasn't over but half of the chapters were ripped out.

"Oh, what a valiant roar, what a bland goodbye, the coward claimed he was a lion, Im combing through the braids of lord, "I'll never leave" "Never mind" our field of dreams, engulfed in fire, your arsons match, your somber eyes, and i'll still see it until i die, you're the loss of my life"

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart - James Potter after his breakup with Regulus Black

As I said earlier, I do headcannon that they were together at some point. In my headcannons James and Regulus start secretly dating in their 4/5th year and nobody knows apart from Sirius and Pandora (who were told) and Alice (who found out)

They broke up during James' sixth year and Regulus' fifth. Regulus got mad at James for "helping" Sirius leave and basically just started ignoring him. They had a few slip ups (make out sessions instead of talking) but ultimately broke up

James was obviously upset but considering nobody but Sirius, Pandora and Alice even knew they were dating he had to continue as if nothing ever happened

This song was actually hard to match with someone but I think the overall vibe screams James even if it isn't about Regulus but something else (for this example i will be referring to their breakup tho)

The line "Breaking down, I hit the floor, all the prices of me shattered as the crowd was chanting, "more"" reminds me of Quidditch or just the overall appearance of him and how he carried himself

"I'm so obsessed with him, but he avoids me" is James' entire personality while Regulus was refusing to speak to him and the line "I keep finding his things in drawers, crucial evidence i didn't imagine the whole thing," is James reminding himself that they actually did have a relationship as there's little to no evidence of it

There isn't much more detail to go into this song. It's pretty straight forward

The Smallest Man To Ever Live - Lily Evans & Severus Snape

From Lilys POV

oh snily... i will never be able to figure out how i feel about you

You can see this song as romantic or platonic snily but personally I will be referring to them as friends only as I don't think that Lily ever had any romantic feelings for Snape. I also don't think we talk enough about the FRIENDSHIP. y'all they were best friends😭😭 why does the marauders fandom act like they never were???

Starting from the top we have "Was any of it true?" being Lily asking Severus what if their friendship was real. We really never talk enough about how Snape always knew that Lily was a muggleborn yet still joined Voldemort, knowing how he felt about muggles and muggleborns

I do not believe that Lily would forgive Severus. I don't think he's a bad person but for Lily I feel like everything was a bit too personal. So the chorus "I don't even want you back, i just want to know, if rusting my sparkling summer was the goal, and i don't miss what we had, but could someone give, a message to the smallest man who ever lived?" is Lily wanting closure for their friendship and wanting answers but that only. All Severus could do was apologise but she didn't want that. After he called her a mid blood it was past apologies for her

The bridge is what reminds me of them the most. Oh the bridge... let's go through it together

"Were you sent by someone who wanted me dead?" and "Were you writing a book? were you a sleeper cell spy?" being Lily asking Severus why he told Voldemort about the prophecy

"In fifty years, will all this be disclassified?" More like in 17 years. Will she ever know what his true intentions were?

"It wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden" is Severus thinking that Lily was different to other muggleborns. Lily asking if her being muggleborn and his feeling of superiority over her one of the reasons why he liked her

"I would've died for your sins, instead i just died inside" and outside. Like Dorcas, Lily had a "you don't know him like I do" phase.

"And you deserve prison, but you won't get time, you'll slide into inboxes and slip through the bars" How Severus never went to Azkaban for being a death eater because of Dumbledore

"You said normal girls were boring" normal girls being muggles

"And in plain sight you hid, but you are what you did, and i'll forget you, but i'll never forgive, the smallest man who ever lived" being Lily in the afterlife after finding out the truth

The Alchemy - Marlene McKinnon & Dorcas Meadowes

From Dorcas' POV

Dorlene my favourite sports rivals to lovers <3

This song has a lot of american football references in it and today we are going to pretend that they're about Quidditch.

In my hcs Dorcas has "hated" Marlene since their first day of school where when waiting tj be sorted Dorcas thought that she was going to be called up but Marlene was instead (since McKinnon is before Meadowes in the alphabet) and ever since Dorcas had been bitter because Marlene had always been so unpredictable

To me this is Dorcas as she realises that she's in love with Marlene which is represented in the second verse "Hey, you, what if i told you we're cool? that child's play back in school, is forgiven under my rule"

I have no proof but i am so certain that "He jokes that it's heroin, but this time with an E" is something that Marlene McKinnon has said. I'm so confident.

I headcannon Marlene as a Ravenclaw and that she became the captain of her Quidditch team during her fifth year, won the cup and in her sixth year captioned Hogwarts first all women's Quidditch team. I have this whole story of the Quidditch season during their sixth year (which you can read btw it's called the epic highs and lows of hogwarts quidditch on ao3 by atlasdoe) and although it doesn't have a happy ending the bridge is what would've happened if they did from Dorcas pov. "Shirts off and your friends lift you up over their heads, beer stickin to the floor, chris chanted cause they said, "there was no chance tehing to be the greatest in the league" where's the trophy? he just comes runnin over to me"

"Cause the sign on your heart, said it's still reserved for me, honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?" is soooo dorlene i could cry. This song is just the right amount of happiness that they deserve

Clara Bow - Harry Potter

Oh Harry, being in the Marauders fandom has made you so much more tragic for me

The poor orphan boy who in the span of a day went from a nobody to the chosen one.

"You look like Clara Bow," "You look like Stevie Nicks" "You look like Taylor Swift" is Harry constantly being told he looks like his father but with his mothers eyes

The first verse saying "In this light, remarkable, All your life, did you know, you'd be picked like a rose?" reminds me of Harry entering the Leaky Caldron for the first time and having all those strangers be so eager to shake his hand. Being "picked like a rose" is him being the chosen one but even before he was known as it.

The second verse, "In '75, the hair and lips, crowd goes wild at her fingertips, half moonshine, a full eclipse" is Harry being told about his parents while they were at school. Him listening to Sirius and Remus sing his parents praises and only dreaming to be as loved as they were

The outro, "In this light, we're lovin it, you've got edge. she never did, the futures bright, dazzling" is Harry after winning the war. The "edge" that his parents never had allowed him to survive. His future is bright now that they know he has one

The Chorus is the repeated expectations that Harry has to live up to "This town is fake but you're the real thing, breath of fresh air through smoke rings, take the glory, give everything, promise to be dazzling" is what he was told during his first few years at Hogwarts while. "The crown is stained, but you're the real queen, flesh and blood amongst war machine, you're the new god we're worshipping, promise to be dazzling" is what he was told as the war became more serious.

I did not expect to write this much but oh well. PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!!! <3

[poisonedlovedarling]

How Disney almost had a hit with; Rise of Red, and how they can fix it going forward. (in my opinion) Part 3

For this final part I'm going to outline how I think the Writers at Disney can fix this loose thread of a story line they've created, With t Rise of Red Movie. (Again loved the Idea hated the execution)

Now going forward in part three we are going to go off of what Rise of Red has not only established as lore of this world and try to fix the story with what they've presented for us and hopefully get a half way decent story going froward.

In my last part I put several ways the story should have ended, I'm going to take some of those and mix them in here. I can't guaranty a clean and nice fix but at least a decent story if they go with any of these ideas.

So how it can go from here? What could possibly save this story?

Fix 1- One way to fix the story is to rely on a tried and true cliché, the easy fix. "It was all a dream." No joke that is the easiest fix, how to do this?

We could open with Red's last moment where she meets her mother who is now nice and Sweet and pink. Only to have Red Wake up where she was when her mother was trying to take over the kingdom the first time and watch as she does it again.

"Why playing my favorite game, War." This time though Red and Chloe run to each other and do a quick "it didn't work' and run off to go back in time again as the Queen takes over in the back ground.

We watch as they head back in time again appearing back to the same moment they had left from Merlin catching and scolding Red and Chloe sending them to bed since castle coming is in a few days. This is where they'll make some changes and try to make sure ThroneComing go off without a hitch. Which they mess up or think they managed it, but they realize eventually the change in history caused Cinderella and Charming to never dance together at the Ball. They think everything with figure itself out and return to the present to find a somewhat good ending except. Chloe doesn't return in this version of events Cinderella never went to the ball and thus never met charming and as a result Chloe was never born. Red realizes she has to go back and fix it even if it means loosing this version of her now kind and loving mother.

She goes back once more ending up in the wrong time landing far after Throne coming and now has to find or even create a moment where Charming and Cindy fall in love. Making allys with our favorite characters, to pull it all off. help godmother with her magic, uniting the people in a way. Learning that you may not always find what you're looking for in your family but can find love in friend ship.

Fix 2- This one is a little more tricky, but works better than the dream theory. Less cliché, so if we come to the good ending and Reds got a loving mother we can spend a little time in this timeline. But as she goes about the world she learns all is not as good as it seems. Stories she knows people she expects to meet are all different if not missing entirely. The isle could in fact still be under lock down, Things aren't perfect and she realizes despite how happy she is her changes made things worse for everyone else. So she and Chloe decided to go back and turn things back to how they were, and instead keep her mother trapped in Wonderland, choosing to instead cut of her home and mother for the safety of everyone. Maybe even not leaving wonderland herself and just excepting her exile.

Which could lead to a third movie where Chloe does what ever she can to find a way to get her friend free and keep the Queen from declaring war/Breaking godmothers wand, and presumedly doing away with Cinderella.

Fix 3- We open with the good ending Mom is nice Chloe and Red are friends all is right in the world that night in the courtyard when no one else is around one of two things can happen.

A- Chloe and Red come to get the Book that they hid away all those years ago so they can either return it or give it to Uma or someone. (something like that) While they debate/argue about what they need to do with the book and how they'll explain why they had it a portal opens. A big bad walks into their home either from the future or better the past. They had left a rift when they left and now something has come through. Who I'm not sure, Merlin or bad version of Mad Hatter something like that. The girls now either have to find a way to send him back, fight him, or even worse explain how this happened to Godmother and Uma. During the duration of the film I could probably write up a fun little tale about time travel villain but I'll leave this idea up to those lovely writers I've accidently given ideas to.

Or B- Same kind of premise time hole opens villain enters modern times Chloe and Red have to fix/ fight the big bad because what they did cause this person to appear. We could even amp up the stakes and have them have to destroy the watch to set everything back to the first time line. them doing it and waking up just in time to stop her mom from doing a card war game. Or something similar.

Fix 3- We open Movie 2 with Red and Chloe starting school, things are going good they're making friends and enemies. Enter Mad Hatter he talks crazy about Red changing the past and now she's created a bigger threat she Chloe and Hatter get caught in a time thing only staying sane by the luck of the watch. but now they're stuck in a different time the watch is broken and they now have to make allies to fight the big threat the girls accidentally made. making allies with other children we haven't gotten to see much of yet.

***

Well there it is a three part rant about a Disney Movie me and maybe a couple hundred thousand other people saw. I'm sure most People wont care or even read these post I just mostly wanted to get the stuff out of my head so i can move on to my own story. Which ironically is a time travel mess I'm try to make less messy and inconsistent as Rise of Red. Thanks for reading, please comment your ideas for this series bellow.

(Oh and Disney if you need someone to write you a script for the second movie I'm free and happy to do so. Not a joke, legitamet offer.)

[rainbow-femme]

Not to make a post about Jasper but the fact that Rosalie is the one to resent Edward and Bella in the series and not him is such a missed opportunity in the story and it pisses me off. A major plot point of Eclipse should have been Jasper reacting to what happened in the first two books and the cullens should have actually had to grapple with disagreements over wanting to continue helping the couple beyond Rosalie occasionally pouting

In Midnight Sun, Edward notes at least twice that, when faced with a threat, Jasper is ready to abandon the cullens and run with Alice. He’s not there for the family ties, he would leave them if it was a choice between them and him and Alice. The fact that Alice stays is the main reason he does when problems occur

First Edward puts them in danger by nearly killing Bella, then shows Bella his super speed, then openly tells her everything with the full belief she’ll be horrified rather than wanting to join them

Then after one day of dating her presence gets them on the radar of a dangerous hunter and Edward assumes not only that they’ll put themselves between Bella and the hunter, possibly for decades, but Jasper has to specifically be her bodyguard because of Alice’s attachment

Then of course the birthday happens and Edward announces that the best way to handle it is for the entire family to leave, and leave now. Everyone has to drop their lives for Edward, and then once they’ve left Forks Edward goes off on his own anyway, meaning Jasper now has a depressed wife who doesn’t get to hang out with her best friend anymore because Edward made them leave when he didn’t even plan to stick with the family anyway

Then! Edward decides to kill himself. And he decides to do it in the most selfish way possible. In a way that tells the head of the Vampire Murder Police that the Cullens told a human about vampires and then left her alone. A way that brings their coven back into the fore of Aro’s mind, brings Alice and her powers back into Aro’s mind, meaning kidnapping at best and murder at worst. And Edward does it in a way that obviously would encourage Alice to put herself into danger by trying to save him.

Alice makes comments in New Moon that there is a very good chance she’ll be murdered and you know that former soldier Jasper would be very aware of that. So once again the one thing he cares about is in danger because Edward decided to put himself first and not consider other people, and this time Jasper can’t help

And then! Luckily everyone comes back safe and Edward decides they all need to drop everything again and go back to Forks because his first fuck up caused an army that is now going after Bella and once again Edward needs them to put themselves in danger. Jasper gets no time to process Alice being alive before hearing that someone else, someone even less inclined to keep her alive, is coming to threaten her.

And on top of that, the Volturi wants Bella changed or they’ll be murdering the entire family, but Edward still says he’d rather put the family in the place of impending doom rather than do something he doesn’t want to

And the first night back in Forks, hours after getting Alice back when he’d spent days dealing with not only his own fear over losing her but the entire family’s pain over the whole situation, Bella and Edward show up and declare they need to have a meeting surrounding them and their needs. And this is when Edward announces he plans on letting them spend decades in danger rather than change Bella

I’m no fan of Jasper for many of the same reasons as everyone else, but he had so much potential as a character in Eclipse to actually matter beyond just being Alice’s husband. Rosalie is against Bella but what if we had someone who actually called Edward on his shit? Someone who wasn’t invested in the family dynamic and doesn’t care about ruffling feathers by pointing out that Edward’s selfishness is hurting them? What would happen if Edward announced a newborn army was coming and they needed Jasper’s expertise and Jasper said “no I’m not doing this again, I’m not putting me and my wife into another war you started, I’m not enabling you anymore”

What if Edward or Bella had to face a single social consequence for putting everyone else at risk rather than think about how their actions affect others

What if the Cullens were split between those who were fine with Edward’s choices and those who weren’t, and it actually extended beyond a single conversation and affected the plot in some way

What if Stephanie Meyer understood linear character development or how characters affect the story they’re in beyond their use as chess pieces that do whatever she needed to move the romance plot

[ashesandhackles]

Harry And Personal Conflict: A Meta On Evolving Dynamic With Ron and Hermione

One of my last metas on Harry was how his abuse at the Dursleys informed who he is as a person and a lot of his main personality traits. This time, I want to explore Harry's relationship with conflict, mostly in regard to his best friends - Ron and Hermione.

First things first, because of his abusive upbringing where he is constantly in conflict with his caregivers, conflict is seen as Bad Thing when we first meet him as a 11 year old. And it informs how he reacts to both Ron and Hermione at first. He instantly relates to Ron because Ron is an underdog - a boy who feels neglected and passed over in his large and boisterous family. Harry shares his own experience of neglect with Ron and they both bond instantly.

His initial impression of Hermione is that she has a "bossy sort of voice" . The bossiness is an important characterstic to his impression of her - she reminds him of an authority figure and he does not particularly take to her as easily as he does Ron. Before the troll incident, he is frequently annoyed by her interventions because "he can't believe anyone would be so interfering". It's her vulnerability and the fact that she may be in danger that makes Harry, and by extension Ron, go after her. And she pays it back in full with a demonstration of loyalty to them in front of people she wants to impress: teachers. This sets the tone of his friendship with Ron and Hermione.

There is sense of easiness to his friendship with Ron, especially in earlier books that he doesn't quite share with Hermione. This is a bit gendered as well, of course. His relationship with Hermione evolves as Ron's own equation with two of them changes, more specifically Ron's cognisance of his romantic feelings for Hermione. So how does this inform his relationship with personal conflict?

Let's look at it Book wise.

Book 1-4: Since Harry tends to see All Conflict As Bad, when Hermione becomes his friend, he tends to ignore traits of her that he particularly doesn't take to. Specifically her argumentativeness - which he usually leaves Ron to deal with. For example, look at when Hermione drags him off to the kitchens in GOF. When he realises what this is about, he nudges Ron, and Ron does the protesting: "Hermione, you are trying to rope us into that spew stuff again!".

Often, you can say he is amused by Ron's more ..let's say colourful.. reactions to Hermione being overbearing. So when Ron and him are not speaking and Hermione gets a Quidditch term wrong, it causes him "a pang to imagine Ron's expression of he could have heard Hermione talking about Wonky Faints". It's that deeply ingrained into the dynamic.

While Ron acts buffer and protects Harry from stepping into a potential conflict ("skip the lecture", "don't nag" he tells her), Harry's world view remains quite the same. Part of Harry's growing up is integrating conflicting points of view and gaining nuance. For example, he can't understand why someone like Snape, who seems to hate him so much, can also save his life at the end of Philosopher's Stone. This is his first venture into trying to integrate two conflicting things about a person into nuance. Dumbledore gives him a very easily digestible story, one that appeals to his ideal of his father and Harry is sated.

Again, Harry's world view is tested when he finds out that he relates with Tom Riddle - for their "strange likenesses". He doth protest too much at Dumbledore's office: "I don't think I am like him! I am Gryffindor!". And Dumbledore offers him a wisdom nugget: "It's our choices which define who we are" (paraphrasing). Harry is uncomfortable that he empathises with Tom Riddle, his parents' murderer, at this point in the story.

In the first four books, his only proper personal conflict has been with Ron.

It is depressing to think about in these terms - but Ron is Harry's first experience of unconditional love (we can even put Hagrid here, but he is not the one who spends most time with Harry). And when Ron and him fight, Harry is so hurt by the prospect that he proceeds to abandon Ron before Ron abandons him. (the whole chucking a "Potter stinks" badge at him and making a jab about having a scar is what he wants, or the fight in DH where he yells "then leave! Pretend you have gotten over your spattergoit and have your mummy feed you up"). It's an interesting defense mechanism and he feels "corrosive hatred" towards Ron during these times because Ron and him aren't supposed to be like this. Ron is a certainty in his life. It's also why when Ron comes back, Harry either doesn't need him to apologise (as in GOF) or quickly forgives him in DH - although I do think Harry thinks the locket bit was punishment enough. But even without the whole locket, I think Harry has trouble holding Ron accountable in general beyond few slaps on the wrist - especially if Ron and he are on good terms.

5th Book: This is the transition point for Golden Trio friendship. Harry has come back from an immensely traumatising night at the graveyard and his PTSD isolates him from his best friends. This is also the point where Ron, especially after GOF, is aware of his romantic feelings for Hermione ("the perfume is unusual Ron", Hermione tells him in this book). So in this book, we often see Ron and Hermione on one side, with Harry on the other.

Ron is unwilling (quite like Harry in that respect) to engage him in a direct conflict, but he is also unwilling to shield him from Hermione's nagging in this book. This is why, OOTP is the book where you see Harry ignore or avoid Hermione and lie to her more than usual to avoid conflict. For example, he tells her that Snape thinks he can carry on Occlumency once he got the basics - that is categorically not what happened. Or the entire day he spends ignoring Hermione's warnings about breaking into Umbridge's office. (The description here is comical - about Hermione vehemently hissing so much that Seamus Finnigan is checking his cauldron for leaks. ) If he cannot lie to her or avoid her, at the end of the rope, he will treat her to display of his frightening temper.

Interestingly, OOTP is also the book that his world view goes through a tremendous upheaval: mainly, his ideal of his father and having empathy for Snape. It is unnerving for Harry to see Snape being the "boy who cried in the corner" when his father shouts at a cowering woman. Similarly unnerving is that his intense empathy for him - "he knew exactly what Snape felt when his father taunted him and judging by what he had seen, his father was every bit as arrogant as Snape always told him".

While he is placated that his father grew out of it, this memory of his father being a bully is something he cannot bear to watch again in DH. Few chapters later, he grins at Ron "sweeping his hair" back to make it look more windswept, just like his father - suggesting that Harry is beginning to integrate two conflicting things he knew about his father: from the people who loved him vs the people he was cruel to.

6th Book onwards: It's interesting to me that his better appreciation for Hermione comes after OOTP (one, because she is the one who challenged the whole Ministry plan and she followed him into a trap knowing it was one anyway) but also the timing of it is in line with Harry having a more nuanced understanding of his father. He struggled to hold conflicting information about him into one cohesive person - the boy who was a bully vs the man who joins Order of Phoenix to fight a war he could very well have sat out. The pedestal crashing helped Harry gain nuance (he thinks of his father and mother with pride in HBP - of them walking into an arena with head held high). HBP also sets up his deeper understanding with Snape in DH. There is lovely meta by about this by thedreamersmusing. Read it here. HBP is also the book he feels "sorry" for Voldemort and also feels "reluctant admiration" for him - both of things he is less defensive about.

And this nuance informs his relationship with conflicts - especially the kind he has with Hermione. He is more confrontational with her and does not lie or sneak around her as much as he did in OOTP in the Half Blood Prince. ("Finished? Or do you want to see if it does back flips?" He asks her when she takes the book from him to check if it's jinxed. Or the "I hope you enjoy yourself" he calls out irritably when she declares intention to find out who HBP is. And "do you want to rub it in Hermione? How do you think I feel now?" He tells her when she says she was right about HBP).

The fact that he is willing to be confrontational with her is a big step in his character - a step up from his unregulated outbursts in OOTP, which is a function of him not knowing how to put his anger across in normal ways. He is also more willing to stand up for her in front of Ron too - "You could say sorry" he tells Ron bluntly. This is in contrast to his more quiet standing up for her in POA: "Can't you give her a break?" Harry asked him quietly. In POA, he lets the subject drop after Ron flatly refuses. Here, he presses on more : "What did you have to imitate her for?" "She laughed at moustache!" "So did I, it's the stupidest thing I have ever seen".

His relationship with Ron is an interesting contrast to his relationship with Hermione, which functionally teaches a very important lesson for an abused child who thought all conflicts are bad: That his friendship with her is challenging, and frustrating, filled with conflicts but their love for each other isn't disputed. It's a very important thing for brain development in general - to hold conflicting information in one space. The defense mechanism abused children do to avoid this is called splitting.

So, Ron allows Harry to be the age he is: a teenager and it's foundation for his further development, and Hermione teaches him how to be an adult, and therefore, spurs his growth. (In esoteric terms, if you look at Ron and Hermione as proxy parents - Ron is the Mother archetype, the one who offers unconditional love. Hermione is the Father archetype - one who demands best of him, and guides him).

Additional reading: Harry, Prongs and Prince - Harry's Inner Struggles For Forging An Identity. By u/metametatron4

Harry Identifies, and Reluctantly Admires Snape Even Before The Prince's Tale by thedreamersmusing

[bunk12bear]

Attening the dead

Not the best title i must admit, im open to sugestions. anyway I saw a tiktok about how Madam Pomfey was likely the one to declare the dead after the battle and thst got me thinking. Most of the people who died had likely been patients of hers at one point so i wrote this. I realise now I forgot sbout snape but I dont like him so meh. Fair waning this one is SAD.

trigger warnings grief, blood, death of a minor, discusion of injuries war and death.

Poppy Pomfrey didn't sign up to be a war medic. When she had been hired to be matron of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry she hoped to avoid some of the grizzlier aspects of healing. The first war had been devastating of course, losing so many of her former students had taken a toll but even through the worst of that war she never imagined the conflict would end up in the school she loves so much.

The dead are everywhere, laying amongst the rubble that used to be the Great Hall surrounded by their weeping friends and family. She stedies herself for a moment. Rationally she knows it's her job to attend to the dead but that doesn't make it any easier.

The first body she attends to is Colin Creevy, still only sixteen. If it weren't for the blood matted into his blond hair you might think he was asleep, he looks so very young at this moment.

She remembers 5 years before when he had been discovered petrified, his precious camera still in his hands. She remembered the letter she had sent his parents promising them that he would be safe, that Hogwarts wasn't normally this dangerous. She didn't think she'd ever hated being wrong more in her entire life. She hoped the bad news wouldn't be delivered via a letter again, they deserve to learn of their son's death in person, especially because they likely haven't seen him in months.

She moved on, winding her way through the wreckage, stopping to confirm what most of the weeping witches and wizards already knew. She hated seeing them all in pain; nearly every combatant at the Battle of Hogwarts had been a student during her time at the school and although she considered herself A top-notch Healer, she couldn't do anything about death or grief.

When she sees the body of Fred Weasley she nearly drops to her knees. Given their reckless nature, the Weasley twins had been frequent patients of hers. The only thing worse than Fred's too still body is George. He's sitting there, Fred's head in his lap absentmindedly stroking his hair. Tears slip slowly down his face, his eyes as dull and lifeless as his twin's.

She remembers the very first time Fred had ended up in the hospital wing. A prank had gone wrong and he would need to spend the night, just to make sure he was fine.

Both boys' demeanor changed instantly. Fred's injury had not stopped them from laughing and joking but the moment they found out that they would have to be sleeping separately the smiles dropped off their faces.

George's eyes begin to well with tears, "Wait does that mean I'm going to have to go back to my dorm without him?" He had asked, his voice shaky.

"I'm afraid so, only patients after hours" she had replied putting a hand on the 11 year old's shoulder.

"But that's not fair," Fred had protested, "We've never slept apart, never ever!" He looked over at his twin who is still doing his best not to cry, "can't you  bend the rules this once there's an empty bed right there I promise I'll be on my best behavior." 

She likely could have but  both boys needed the sleep and she knew from their dorm mates that they had a tendency to keep each other up.

George had been there first thing in the morning bouncing on his toes nervously. Both twins were overjoyed when she told them that Fred was being discharged relieved at the thought they wouldn't have to spend another night apart.

She thought again about those little boys so worried about the prospect of sleeping in separate rooms, now they would never share a room ever again; the thought felt a bit like a stab to the heart.

She goes through the motions quickly and efficiently with Fred not wanting to keep George from his brother's body.

Nymphadora Tonks or was it Lupin now was another frequent visitor. She was clumsy, enthusiastic and, much like the Weasley twins, had a tendency towards mischief.

Her very first visit to the hospital wing had happened within days of her arrival to Hogwarts. She had been slightly too enthusiastic getting something out of her trunk and smacked herself right in the nose with the lid. Eventually the girl had ended up in the hospital wing with so many minor injuries that Pomfry had hunted down all of her friends to teach them how to cast episkey, a spell she had used so many times that morning that it had long since stopped sounding like a word.

While it had been gut-wrenchingly heartbreakingly difficult to attend to any of the dead the worst was the man laying next to Dora.

She had taken care of Remus Lupin once a  month for seven years, even coming to his home after every summer full moon. She had spent many an hour carefully tending to his wounds hidden away from the prying eyes of his curious classmates.

She had adored him when he was a student. She knew she shouldn't pick favorites but even if he hadn't had to visit her Hospital Wing once a month he would probably still be one of hers. He was sweet, kind and smart but with a wicked mischievous streak. She remembers the impish sparkle in his eyes one day in 1975 when he had revealed to her that he had replaced Cassius Nott's writing set with Zonko's invisible ink quills.

Then there was the year he spent as defense against the dark arts teacher. In her opinion he was by far the best person in the position in years, decades even though she might be biased. That year she had not only helped him after the full moon , an easier prospect with the invention of wolfsbane potion, but they had built a real friendship. They had tea in her office every week and frequently chatted at the staff table. She had hoped that after the war, if the whole Voldemort cursing the position business was true,he might return for a permanent position on the Hogwarts staff. Now that would never happen.

She took a moment to run her thumb along the scars on his face one last time before moving on with her solemn duty.

[furiosophie]

maybe a little more oh the things we left behind epilogue fluff??? ;u; i know the entire epilogue was fluff but i am insatiable

yes very good thinking anon and sorry for the long wait my brain is just a heap of goo right now but here we go - some ottwlb fluff set between the Mandalorian war and the very last scene of the fic, a small compilation of how Din found the rest of their family:

oh the things we found

small TW for mentions of blood and trauma

Din doesn't in any way plan on becoming a magnet for Force-sensitive children, he really doesn't, but it happens regardless, something about his unique combination of Force-null beskar, Force-conduit darksaber, and Force-bond husband drawing them in like moths to a flame.

He finds Rey first, on a recon mission out to Jakku, casing a distress signal from a lost covert. She can't be any older than Ben, who is seven now and an absolute terror, but in comparison to him, she doesn't listen to Din one bit, her whole life just a series of defying the authority figures around her. She dangles from a rope above him, in the hollowed-out remains of an Imperial Star Destroyer, sticking out her tongue at him. "I'm not coming with you!" she declares while Din tries to position himself in a way that will allow him to catch her if she slips. "I'm waiting for my family. They're coming to get me!"

He doesn't have the heart to tell her no one in their right mind would ever willingly come back to a place like Jakku. He places all his rations, most of his credits, and, just for good measure, some bacta spray on the ground below her like he's making some offering to an ancient feral god and leaves with an ache in his chest.

"She won't come with me," he complains to Luke later, pacing up and down in the living area of the Mudhorn while Luke brews tea. They don't technically live in the Mudhorn anymore, have their own quarters in the ruins of Yavin's temple, but they always end up here regardless, whenever one of them comes back from a mission, whenever they need it to be just the two of them, away from everyone's worries.

Luke hands him a steaming cup and places a soft kiss on his temple. "Don't worry," he says, in that cryptic tone of his, the one he uses to tease Din when he's being daft about something that's impossible for him to know. "She will." And that's that.

Din goes back. Once, twice, three times, until the sparse crowd of locals looks at him with pity in their eyes. She does come with him eventually, after his eighths visit, when he draws the darksaber on a dune beast and turns around to find her looking at him with the type of recognition in her eyes that he's only ever seen in the way Luke looks at Ben and Grogu.

"She's like you," he accuses when Luke greets them at the bottom of the Mudhorn's ramp, Rey perched high on his shoulders, her arms wrapped around his helmet so tight it's hard for him to see. Luke just smiles and reaches out so Rey can tentatively take his hand. The change is instant - as soon as their palms touch her whole body relaxes as if something in her is finally at peace and Din has to reach up to keep her from sliding off his shoulders. And well. That's that.

Finn is next, standing tall in front of a group of terrified kids, in a backroom of the imperial laboratory they just raided, his eyes ablaze and lips turned up into a snarl. "I'll fight you," he snaps even as Din can see his hands shaking around the mop he fished out of the supply closet as a makeshift weapon. "I'm not scared, I'll fight you!" And really all Din can do in response is pull his helmet off and fall to his knees with his hands raised above his head.

It seems to work because he gets all of them into the Mudhorn eventually, Finn curled up on the copilot's seat, staring out in wonder at the endless expanse of space while the rest of the kids are rolled up into every available blanket in the captain's quarter. It's a bit of a rough start - where Rey felt turmoil because of the things swirling inside her without guidance, all Finn has ever known is supervision and people telling him to be something he's not, his connection to the Force tempered down in all the wrong places, too silent and too loud all at the same time, and in the first weeks, Din spends a lot of time hugging him close to the beskar plating of his chest, taking strolls under the quietness of Yavin's trees like he used to do with Ben. Finn quiets eventually, just as Rey did, the two of them getting on like a house on fire.

Shara is the one who brings Paige and Rose Tico, two sisters left stranded and alone by the still raging unrest of the remnants of war, and there is barely a discussion before she decides to take them in herself, the two of them glued to Poe the second they step off Shara's ship.

He finds Armitage last, standing over the dead body of an Imperial officer, blood on his hands and all across his face, just a sliver of yellow in the green of his eyes. Din has bruises on his arms for a week from how hard the kid strains against him as he tries to drag him out of the Star Destroyer before it self-destructs, but he figures, all things considered, they'll be able to handle that too.

He turns out to be a menace, of course, too smart for his own good, and way too stubborn to let Ben get away with his teasing, which always seems to end up Luke and Din having to physically drag them away from each other. Din tries to do for him what he did for everyone else, to hold him close and comfort him, but he only ever succeeds in the quiet of the night when he finds him at the very top of the temple wrapped up tightly in Luke's arms, both of them holding onto each other for dear life, eyes red-rimmed and cheeks tear-stained, darkness hanging around them like rain clouds.

Armitage takes a shine to Bo-Katan though, amidst all of his defiance, a fact that seems to confuse her as much as it does Din, and he knows that that will probably spell disaster in the future given how fast and feral Armitage takes to swinging a lightsaber, but to his relieve the Armorer steps up to pull him to her workshop by the back of his neck and balances the murder in his eyes with ever-evolving engineering challenges.

And so it takes a bit, quite a while in fact, but they find their balance eventually, their weird ever-growing family, all of them slotting into each other in a way that sometimes makes Din wonder if this was their doing too, Luke's and his, if in bending the universe around them, and in becoming one in the Force they somehow became a beacon for all those who are lost.

He wonders about it on the nights when, even after Han settles down on Yavin more or less permanently to be closer to Ben, and even after Paz bashfully asks to officially adopt Rey who's been glued to his shoulders for months, and even after Armitage makes it very clear that he doesn't plan to ever be adopted by anyone, Luke comes back from an excursion to find Din pilled into their bed with a bunch of wayward Foundlings.

"Sorry," Din mumbles sleepily as Luke steps over a snoring Paz who's taken up guard in the hallway, "It just happened."

"Is there room for one more?"

"Unlikely," Din sighs as he always does, but Luke finds a spot anyways, shuffling the kids around until they are just awake enough to demand a story from him.

"It's late," Luke smiles as Din pulls him closer to lean their foreheads together in greeting, Grogu climbing up from where he was tucked beneath Ben's chin to settle in between his dads. "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow."

"Just one!" Rey pleads from her spot at Din's side, Finn's head popping up behind her in a show of support and Luke raises a warning eyebrow as Poe and Rose scoot closer from where they were sprawled over Din's legs. "You always say we need to be curious about the world around us!"

"It will help us sleep," Armitage argues from his spot at the end of the bed, the one he takes to pretend he doesn't care about any of this, and starts scooting close too, shoving at Ben to make space.

"They make a good point," Din interjects gently and pulls Armitage out of the way and between them before Ben can get up enough to headbutt him with Din's helmet, which is a constant on his head on those nights where they all feel pulled towards each other.

"Traitor," Luke laughs, letting Armitage nestle in closer to him, but he'll tell them about his travels anyways until they are all knocked out and snoring peacefully and Din can press a quick kiss to Luke's lips without having to listen to a cascade of "ew" and "gross".

And so, in the end, he always drifts asleep knowing he doesn't fully understand it, not really, how they all manage to fit so perfectly into each other's lives, how he managed to find this, this place that is domestic in a way nothing in his life has ever been, but he figures he doesn't have to understand it, not when he also knows with absolute certainty that they are all exactly where they are supposed to be.

[ephemerlskies]

constant craving | jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader

⇢ genre: drabble series, angst, unrequited love, idiot!jungkook, idiot!oc, basically everyone's an idiot

⇢ word count: 1.7k

⇢ warnings: unreciprocated pining, explicit language, themes of hopeless romanticism (!!), (slightly) unedited

⇢ summary: your best friend decided to confide in his best friend on how to win his girlfriend back after a fight. you tell him exactly what to say to her, however he is unaware that what you were saying was a sincere delivery of your once undeclared love.

♪ playlist: constant craving - k.d. lang, bad religion - frank ocean, misunderstood - lucky daye, neu roses - daniel caesar ♪

╰ series index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 (final)

a/n: hello my little loves!! this was definitely ;) not ;) an impulse write and release ;) ;) sorry for being so inactive lately. i've been focusing on myself (i know how cliche that sounds but it's true). anyway, enjoy this incredibly angsts fic i wrote at 2 am for absolutely no reason at all other than i'm an emotional sadist and a masochist. love u!!!! <3

part one: control

He was coming over for the third time this week. Third time. Three times is two more times than he'd gone over his girlfriend's house, but you did everything in your power to convince your inconvincible heart that it meant nothing. Friends see each other more than their girlfriends, right?

It was making a racket in your chest, that muscle that strained much harder for a man who had his pumping for the girl of his dreams.

But, he was coming over for the third time this week.

The first time he said this visit ranked, in his words, 'out of the question' on the degree of necessary that he come over and show you Star Wars. You played a good game of reluctance when asking if it was the entire series or just one movie, and in your head, you hoped to God it was the entire series. For him, you'd watch the series four times over if it meant you sat through this outrageously nerdy movie next to the even more outrageously nerdy love of your life.

The second time was particularly funny to you. He called while you were cooking dinner, almost as if he was in stride with you in a way that was an ounce too synchronized to be platonic, and asked if you were whipping up a delicious meal that he could mooch off of. Knowing he was a terrible cook, plus the fact that when he begged so politely you felt your posture unbind into to a puddle, you more than happily obliged.

This time, the circumstances made it harder to say yes, but not yet impossible. And it was a second or two before you heard that knock on the front door that had your once pounding heart come to a complete halt. It was still, waiting for you to make a decision.

Since it was Jungkook, of course, you'd say yes. And your heart would continue beating. Beating, as in sending sharp jabs that stained the inside of your chest with bruises. Beating, as in when the time came, the final blow of your constantly craving heart would devastate your entire being.

"Thank you so much, ___. God, I'm such an idiot." He walked in with all the confidence of someone who was a bit too familiar with your company. Jungkook's feet reintroducing themselves to your floors in the same manner as he would the night before, and the night before that, and the countless nights you kept secured in your collection of memories. As if he belonged there; as if he was coming home.

"An idiot with a great friend." That last word nearly withdrew the bile you had been ever so gracefully holding in.

"Yeah yeah." And he was comfortable with that same word, 'friend', that deepened your bruises into scars. He had absolutely no clue. Idiot. "I can't believe I broke up with her. I was so angry and acted on that instead of logic. Fuck, why would I do that to myself? I love her."

"Well, you never know. Maybe..." You hated yourself for not resisting the selfish temptation that was about to fall from your lips. The words you've been internally screaming to him to leave her and fall in love with you instead were diluted to something much more tame when your tongue formed them into sound.

"Maybe it was for the best. Maybe you guys are better off apart? To, um, grow or whatever."

"No." He said that with too much certainty and too little hesitance and just enough conviction to sink another wound in the organ exhausting itself in your chest. "She's the one. I know it"

"Jungkook."

He looked at you with all the earnestness of a man who carved his utmost and unchanging dedication to her. A look that any love-induced sap would kill for. A look he would never direct towards you.

Your eyes weren't under your control as of now. The glue that held them to his eyes, his lips, his hair, and every other part of him you dreamed of was more than a marathoned yearning. It was an adhesive twelve years in the making, not showing the slightest sign of wearing away.

"The way you love is something to die for..." And then he smiled at you, but still not for you.

You were utterly crushed.

"She'll take you back in a heartbeat. I mean, she has a brain, so of course, she will. Anyone would."

I would.

"I hope you're right." The couch was four feet wide at most, but there was an impressively vast space between you and the man who was sitting next to you. "Can you tell me what to say? You know I suck with words."

"Uh... Yeah. Of course. Anything."

If breaking hearts were a crime, then Jungkook would have much to atone for. You'd be convicted as a willing accomplice for holding on this long. Up until this point, you've let every small glance, every shy smile he sent your way, every eyebrow twitch conveying a meaning only you knew well enough to retrieve him from whatever awkward situation he needed rescuing from, every accidentally brush of his hand against yours, every purposeful embrace that lasted so long your tears stained his right shoulder string you into a knot of miserable, unrequited love.

And up until this point, you had hope he would choose you.

Each ring of his phone worked in tandem to reduce your undying devotion to Jungkook into a compressed seed of denial.

I don't love him. He's just my best friend.

Your pulse pronounced itself loudly in your ears, as a not-so-gentle reminder of how much you hated him for loving him. Somehow, your heart beat faster. Then again, anything was possible when it came to him. Anything except the miraculous event of him hanging up, declaring his love for you, and living in the land of happily ever after that only existed in your deluded imagination.

"Hey Irene! I'm so fucking glad you picked up."

He gave you that look. With the arched eyebrow, his widened doe eyes, and the slightly hung jaw, you read each feature better than words and nodded to signal you knew exactly what he needed.

"I'm sorry about what happened." You said, in a whisper, though the deflated volume of your words carried no implication of the unbridled sincerity sealed in them.

"I'm sorry about what happened." He repeated, laying down that same Irene-contrived smile on you that fostered a smile of your own, knowing fully it surfaced as a reflex from hearing her voice.

"It might be crazy to try this, because I don't know how you feel."

If the thing people say about your life flashing before your eyes during encounters with death, then you were sure your heart was about to consume its last pulse of blood. The scenes of you and Jungkook spending your Friday nights when you were a ripe city dweller in your shoebox apartment doing everything and nothing at all had convinced you that you were certainly about to go into cardiac arrest.

"It might be crazy to say this, because I don't know how you feel." Jungkook was so many things, however emotionally perceptive was not one of them.

"But I love you. I have loved you since the moment I met you." Those words tasted sweet despite fermenting in a chamber of your heart you kept preserved since, as you said, the very moment you met him.

"But I love you. I have loved you since the moment I met you."

"No matter what, I'd choose you. It doesn't matter how mad I am or how annoyed I am, I will choose you because if I know anything in this damn, cruel, punishing world, then I know that I'd rather be angry, annoyed, or anything else with you than without you."

He repeated your words, but dehydrated all of your sentiment from them. You were left with the remnants of the feelings, and none of the words from him you were so desperately starved of. He took them right from your throat, along with the very breath that seemed to keep returning because of Jungkook, molded them into his own, into a sequence of sounds that were meant for Irene. You were left hungry, breathless, and forever wanting.

"No matter what, I'd choose you. It doesn't matter how mad I am or how annoyed I am, I will choose you because if I know anything in this damn, cruel, punishing world, then I know that I'd rather be angry, annoyed, or anything else with you than without you."

Irene must have been smiling right about now. Who wouldn't smile hearing those things from someone like Jungkook?

"Because with you, I'm complete. My story can't end if I'm incomplete. Please, choose me back. Complete me. That's all I ask."

Then, you began to ask yourself another question.

If you make me complete, Jungkook, will my story ever end?

You knew the answer to that. You swore your heart beat in a morse code that told you everything you needed to know.

"Because with you, I'm complete. My story can't end if I'm incomplete. Please, choose me back. Complete me. That's all I ask."

Jungkook looked to you, before Irene could form the proper response, and smiled. It was the third time he smiled at you today because of course, you were keeping track. You knew it was his own physically linguistic version of a 'thank you' or a 'you're a life saver' but somehow, to you, it translated to something similar to a 'goodbye'.

Your legs miraculously rose and carried you to the back porch. The sun was just beginning to dip in the horizon, proliferating a warm orange that was about to subside to an indistinguishable and unpredictable dusk. Whatever color came after the sunset, you were ready to accept it, to memorize how it reflected against a world without the possibility of him. And even though the night will always embody undertones of orange, it was time to focus on the colors around it.

It was time to let go.

a/n: i might make this into a drabble series!!! if anyone would be interested in that please let me know :)) thank you for readinggggg <3

[hd-cluefest]

H/D Clue Fest - Anon Masterlist

All the reports and wire tapes submitted by our secret agents have been revealed. Twenty-eight cases, almost half a million words and over two and a half hours of audio.  Under the cut, you can find an overview of all our cases. 

0430, T, 8.7k

Harry disappears at exactly 04:30 in the morning. Hermione and Ron intend to figure out why. And Pansy's certain has something to do with Draco.

A Hogwarts Detective Mystery, E, 19.3k

Harry returns to Hogwarts for his Eighth Year with Ron and Hermione after defending Draco Malfoy at his trial over the summer. Malfoy has returned too...but he's acting incredibly suspicious. So, naturally, Harry decides to stalk-er-follow him when he leaves the Eighth Year Common Room after hours one evening. It turns out that Malfoy has noticed something is amiss at Hogwarts, and he and Harry must work together to solve a mystery of disappearing portraits, randomly changing house colours on uniforms, and the Gryffindor Common Room suddenly appearing in the dungeons. What is happening to the castle? Will self-appointed detectives Harry and Draco discover what secrets are lying within the walls of Hogwarts...and their hearts?

A House on Fire, E, 8.4k

For the last five years, Auror Draco Malfoy has walked into his office with hardly a glance at the illusioned window taking up the back wall. It looks out over an imagined London, a perfectly bright and brilliant view of the city that hides the smog and rain and dirt that clings to the city like a patina of time that can never be worn away. It's always a perfect summer's day with soft, white clouds that float through the painfully bright blue sky like a dream. He likes to imagine the gentle breeze that ripples the surface of the Thames brushing across his skin, since he'll never be able to actually feel it. After all, his office is located on the second floor and is, therefore, underground.

Or at least that's what he did before the seventh of October, 2009.

A Little Bird Told Me, M, 18.6k

Harry and his partner are called to investigate a murder that occurred at an exclusive getaway hosted by Muggle patrician Robert Morton in his own house. The surviving six people are now both witnesses and suspects. There is just one problem for Harry: Draco Malfoy is one of them.

a meeting of minds, M, 8.2k

When Harry Potter starts hearing someone else's thoughts for several minutes a day, at first he chalks it up to his own bad luck and he tries to ignore it. But the longer it goes on, the less Harry can ignore it. Whoever it is, the person whose thoughts he's hearing needs help. Harry finds himself indignant at the mistreatment of the man taking up space in his head, and feels a sense of closeness to him that he cannot explain.

How can he find out whose thoughts he's hearing? And what exactly will he do when he finds him?

Cruel River, T, 67.7k

Draco inherits a castle deep in the Scottish highlands, and discovers it’s haunted by more than just ghosts.

Dear Stranger, T, 22.7k

The one thing more pointless than falling in love with an anonymous wizard over a correspondence is falling in love with Harry Potter when you’re Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy and the Case of the Smuggled Gossip, T, 6.9k

It's eighth year and someone is selling gossip about Harry Potter and his friends to the new trashy wizarding tabloid. Can Draco discover how the gossip is getting smuggled out of the castle? Will he and Harry grow closer in the process? Will there be kissing? (Spoilers: yes.)  

For Now, 6.7k, T

At first when Harry gets sent a mysterious notebook, he thinks it's a gift. But when he starts to write in it, he finds that someone can see what he writes, and the stranger is writing back to him.

Over time he finds himself opening up to the mysterious stranger, but how is he supposed to fully trust him if the stranger won't even tell him his name?

He makes saints out of sinners, M, 32.8k

Harry grows with the turn of the tide. Draco contends with his ghosts.

This is a chronicle of inevitability.

It might take an army, it might just be me, M, 15.5k

Five years after the war, Auror Potter goes out on a seemingly routine mission to check up on some pardoned criminals. He doesn’t come back. Immediate suspicions are cast on Draco Malfoy, one of the charges he was to be visiting. But unbeknownst to everyone, the two of them have been in a secret relationship for over six months, and Draco is beside himself with worry and so is Hermione and Ron. Together they try to get their best friend back. But there are surprises on their ways which none of them even expects of.

Can they get their best friend back or is he gone forever?

Long story short, G, 4.6k

Someone's written about Harry's secret raspberry jam recipe. Also, they write fanfiction about him. Obviously, he using his investigative prowess to find them.

Love's Sake, Evermore, E, 9.6k

Someone is doing nice things for Draco and that someone seems to know an awful lot about his habits and favorite things. Draco can't imagine why anyone would do these things for him because he still thinks he has something to prove. Some days he thinks he’s going to spend his entire life spackling over the mistakes of his youth and the sins of his family.

Memory Lane, T, 9.7k

Draco Malfoy has been happily living in the Muggle world for nearly a decade, far away from any Wizarding responsibilities they might try to enforce on him. He planned on leaving that world forever, save for making sure his son received a proper education, but things didn’t exactly go to plan. On his doorstep, one night, Harry Potter showed up. Except Harry Potter was supposed to be dead for the last seven years.

Mine O'Clock, T, 1.2k

Harry Potter is missing and Ron and Hermione are going spare.

How can Draco enjoy his lazy weekend with their nonsense cluttering up his front steps?

[podfic] Potterotica, E, 20min

The first story, and you could barely call it that, had appeared in the communal bathroom overnight. It was stuck to the mirror, one above each sink, like it was expected people might casually read it while brushing their teeth.

Except, there was nothing casual about reading explicit erotica in a communal bathroom while shoving a lubricated brush in and out of your mouth.

Blaise had been the first to find it, or rather, to gleefully admit that he had. He’d burst into the common room in his pants to declare, 'There’s fucking porn in the bathroom!'

Someone's writing smut and signing it with Harry's name. Hermione isn't buying it, and she has a plan to expose the true author. She also has her hand in her pants in a wardrobe.A (ridiculous) response to AO3s (valid) new co-creator rules.

Repairing his world, M, 34.8k

15 years after his father was arrested, Scorpius uncovers his case file at work. Desperate for answers on why his family was torn apart all those years ago, Scorpius looks into what happened. But is he ready for how the new evidence will change his life all over again?

Reverie in Green, T, 51.7k

Draco just wants to get away; Harry just wants his dog back.

There's a small wooden bridge in the middle, somewhere, curved over a stream that never stops flowing. All they have to do is cross it.

Secret Admirer, E, 12.3k

Fresh out of training, Harry discovers that life as an Auror isn’t at all what he’d imagined - it’s much better actually, and there are stickers. As he settles into the team, a case lands quite literally on his doorstep... who keeps sending the Knight Bus to his house?

Sleight of Hand, E, 15k

It’s another one of these horrid Ministry affairs, and the only interesting thing is twinkling from Draco Malfoy’s finger. Can you really blame Harry for being fascinated by the gorgeous emerald ring and those long, elegant hands, especially when he’s certain Malfoy is up to something?

[podfic] The Lion, The Dragon, and the Broom Cupboard, E, 1h45min

Draco thinks he’s hallucinating the first time when he opens the door to the office pantry and finds Potter there instead, looming out of the shadows of what appears to be a cupboard like some deformed gargoyle. Things don’t go much better after that.

Or, three broom cupboards, two times they get it on, and one love story.

The Mysterious Case of the Missing Yoghurt, E, 24.5k

Newly-hired Flying Professor Harry Potter is happy to return to Hogwarts for a fresh start after several failed careers, but nothing is going as planned. His classes are a mess, he has to find a way to work with Draco Malfoy (annoying git extraordinaire) and now, in an act of villainy and depravity, someone keeps stealing his yoghurt.

Through the Blur, E, 27.7k

Sleep doesn't come easy to Harry. Despite taking regular doses of Dreamless Sleep for years, he hasn't managed to get rid of the nightmares. Things can't get any worse for him when Potions Master Draco Malfoy comes to him for help after mysterious attacks to his apothecary.

[podfic] to heal a fracture (to bind a life), M, 33min

Who you gonna call? Harry has become one of the foremost Spiritual Exterminators in Britain. Draco has a spirit that needs extermination. But what seems like a simple problem ends up becoming far more complicated when the spirit is identified. The secrets that are exposed and the history that is uncovered leads both Harry and Draco into uncharted territory.

To Live & Die in LA, E, 28.8k

Someone is blackmailing Pansy Parkinson. Pansy's father hires Harry Potter, P.I., to get to the bottom of the scam. But how is Harry's errant ex-boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, involved? And why did Draco run to Los Angeles in the first place?

Two Hearts Divided, T, 18.6k

Draco Malfoy, the celebrated Ghost Clearance Expert is in Germany, trying to solve the tricky little matter of a stubborn ghost called Clara von Kellern. Exasperated after trying every spell he knows, Draco sends an owl to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in London, requesting their urgent help.

Little does Draco know that the clerk who willingly grasps his letter is Harry Potter.

Injured in action, Harry enjoys a quiet, deskbound existence and sees Draco’s letters as a bit of excitement to brighten up his dull days. Harry has no idea that investigating Clara’s life, and that of her beau (and potential murderer) Ernst Wernet will lead to the beginnings of a love affair all of his own.

Violent Delights, E, 20.4k

Draco Malfoy's life should be going very well. He's engaged to a wonderful man and in line for the Head Auror job. He's been made lead investigator on a serial murder case, trying to figure out who is killing off the scum of the wizarding world, one by one. So what if he's kind of miserable? Things always get better.

Who Put Bella in the Wych Elm?, E, 15.4k

As sad as it was for a family to come to this point: no one would put it past the others to be able to raise their hand and wand against a cousin, an aunt or even a son.

Merlin knows, it had been happening often enough in the House of Black.

So that left the attendees with one question.

Who put Bella in the Wych Elm?

*

Harry & Draco are Walburga Black's guests at Number 12 Grimmauld Place to find the one, true heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. What had the potential to go terribly wrong, went one step further and culminated in a dead body and twelve suspects.

[primasveraas-writing]

As Family Does - SWR

In snippets, Hera experiences the ups and downs of motherhood, and all the wonderful relationships her son has with family near and so very far away.

WORD COUNT: 2206

XXX

Kanan

A sharp, desperate cry, and Hera’s world changed forever.

Jacen Syndulla was a testament to his parents’ strength long before he came into the world. He emerged bloodied, during battle and war, but the galaxy suddenly recentered itself around this tiny, helpless being.

Hera should have been used to this kind of change by now- in less than a year, her whole life had been broken and reformed in more ways than she could count.

And yet- so much of it was good, Hera thought, as the squirming baby was placed on her chest. This love she felt was so familiar, after carrying her son for 9 months, after loving his father, after being family and foster mother to Ezra and Sabine. She felt it in every cell of her body, so much that it was hard to breathe.

“You did it, Hera,” Zeb said, sounding rather choked up. Hera nodded, numb to the rest of the galaxy, save for her child in her arms, and realized that there were hot tears on her face. She sobbed, her whole body convulsing, and that hurt, but she didn’t care. She’d faced greater pain and been awarded less joy at the end of it all.

The baby wailed again, and Hera gasped- the boy’s eyes had flown open, revealing a clear, vibrant blue. His skin was tinted green and his features were already sharp, sure hallmarks of his mother’s identity but his eyes- they were Kanan’s eyes.

She never thought she’d see them again, and she sobbed harder. Even with the hormone changes that came with pregnancy, it had been a long time since Hera had cried this much. She felt Zeb’s hand on her shoulder and the love in the air. She cried tears of happiness, as new parents do, and tears of sorrow because Kanan wasn’t there to meet his son, nor Ezra to meet his baby brother.

But still- she knew Kanan loved her and he loved their son. She knew Ezra would too, when he came home. Their love was still with her, even if they were not.

That would be enough for now. Hera had her son and her beloved’s eyes, and the love needed to carry her through this and darker days.

Chopper

Hera knew- despite her avoidance of the fact- that Jacen couldn’t stay with her forever. She wasn’t the only one in the Rebellion with a young child, but she was the only general with a newborn. Somewhere in the galaxy, there had to be a safe place for her son, and she would find it. But for now, she kept him the best she could, even if it would only be for the first months of his life.

The fear and the exhaustion of war were heightened by bringing an infant into it. They threatened Hera in her lowest moments, but then there was Zeb, putting Jacen back to sleep in the middle of the night before she could get out of bed, or Kallus quietly filling out her rising piles of paperwork when she was too busy or too tired to do it herself.

It was okay- a new challenge, a new routine, and an ever-constant show of their resilience. She witnessed love and community in all parts of her life, from her kid pilots offering to babysit, to the Organas sharing some old baby toys and clothes. Even the most unlikely of figures rallied around her, and for that, Hera was grateful. Sometimes, she would even have time to herself.

One of these calm afternoons was spent completing mission reports while Jacen slept, which Hera boldly presumed would last long enough for her to catch up on everything she had to do. As soon as she dared to hope this, however, a mechanical whirr indicated the presence of Chopper- and serenity rarely, if ever, followed him.

Where is the new one? He asked, disregarding the fact that Hera was very clearly busy.

“The new one- you mean Jacen?”

He’s new. Her droid was very matter-of-fact about this statement.

“He’s a baby, Chop,” Hera amended, and the astromech beside her warbled in disagreement.

He has not been around very long. He has not done many things either. Therefore, he is new.

“Whatever you say.”

Chopper didn’t humor her further, only groaned in complaint, and waited for a response. Hera rolled her eyes, but obliged. “He’s down for his afternoon nap. Same as yesterday. Why?”

She received no reply, other than a broken lament that the little one took too long to recharge, then her oldest companion rolled off and out of sight. Hera sighed and turned back to her work.

Later, Hera glanced at the chrono and readied herself for her son’s cries, but the Ghost remained silent and lonely. She crept down the room towards the pilot’s quarters, the door still open so that she might reach Jacen faster. Perhaps she would find him still asleep, and she could clean or shower with the extra few minutes to herself.

She instead discovered her baby wriggling happy on his cot, Chopper looming over him. One of his mechanical arms was extended, dangling Jacen’s favorite tooka in front of him. Chopper made gentle sounds, and Jacen grinned up at him.

So Chopper had a heart, beyond the occasional moment of mercy. Hera hid her mouth with her hand, ignoring the wetness in her eyes, and watched the scene from the doorway.

Zeb

It might not have been fair to blame a baby for picking favorites before he could talk, but Hera still shook her head as Zeb passed back Jacen, who wailed the second he left the Lasat’s arms. Zeb chuckled at the reaction, scratching at the back of his neck, but shrunk instantly at Hera’s glare

“Aw, com’on,” Zeb tried while Jacen furiously kicked against Hera. “He doesn’t mean anything by it. Nobody holds a candle to ya, Hera.” He finished the statement rather ungracefully, as Hera relinquished Jacen, plopping him back in Zeb’s arms. As soon as she did, Jacen giggled, clutching at Zeb’s fur and gurgling happily, his woes entirely forgotten.

“You’d think he’d be a little more grateful to the one who feeds him,” Hera said dryly, regarding Jacen with her hands on her hips. Zeb shrugged, looking vaguely sheepish.

“I’m just softer than ya, that’s all,” Zeb assured her, snuggling Jacen against his chest. When Hera raised an eyebrow at him, he laughed in surprise.

“Lasat kits like to sleep on their parents,” he explained, “but some of us like to say that they prefer the Lasat with the longest and softest fur.”

“Well, you certainly have me beat there,” Hera conceded, and Zem hummed in agreement, rocking Jacen in his arms. He babbled cheerfully, and Zeb laughed again. “Maybe nobody holds a candle to Uncle Zeb, either,” she said, her tone hushed, and Zeb froze. “We’re both lucky to have you.”

Zeb didn’t say anything for a long moment, then he shifted Jacen to one side and slung his free arm around Hera’s shoulders. She leaned into the embrace, and Zeb pulled her closer.

“We’re family,” he said gruffly, his voice suspiciously thick. “Of course I’ll take care of you both.”

The admonition sent warmth flooding through Hera’s chest, and she sniffed. That was what she’d count on through it all- her family and their love, unfaltering.

Sabine

Each of Jacen’s milestones- his first smile and wave and babble of a word- came with the reminder that Kanan wasn’t there to witness them too. Her son had just started to lift his own head when the anniversary of his father’s death passed, and Hera realized with grief weighing on her heart that even the idea of Kanan would be unfamiliar to Jacen for the first years of his life.

Her sorrow at the fact that “Dada” wouldn’t be among Jacen’s collection of first words (which included “Mama,” “ship,” “no!” and “Chop”) was expressed to Sabine during an exhausted and teary conversation. Together, they concluded that Kanan would have made a great dad, if he didn’t collapse from the stress while doing it, and the two women held each other until the talk turned back to recollecting fond memories at laughter at what once was.

In one of the biggest shocks of Hera’s life, the grief became lighter and easier to carry. She knew it would never leave her, but at least she didn’t bear it alone.

When Jacen turned one, she declared it a happy occasion and resolved not to spend too long dwelling on those not present to celebrate with them. There were still wistful smiles and comforting hugs, but as luck would have it, she had Zeb, Alexsandr, Rex, and Sabine all with her to mark the occasion, and that was a happy blessing on its own.

Jacen destroyed the small cake Alexsandr had made for him with pudgy fists, smearing it all over his face and onesie. Hera laughed, trying not to think of the possibility of finding uneaten food in Jacen’s diaper again, and their small family celebrated, and it was good.

They exchanged presents before everyone had to return to their respective duties. Mother and son received a collection of toys and bigger clothes, and Hera was even gifted a nice bottle of wine for her to enjoy after surviving a year of motherhood.

At the end, when it was just her and Sabine sweeping crumbs off the floor of the galley, the young Mandalorian presented her a final gift. An intricately bound book, made from sketch flimsi and filled with page after page of illustrations. It told a story, in few words and in brilliant, dynamic colors, of a Jedi, a hero, on quests to make the galaxy a better place. The Jedi wielded a blue lightsaber, and although he could be grumpy, he was deeply loyal to his friends, and he always came in to save the day. His face was unmistakable, his demeanor kind and familiar.

“So Jacen can know his dad,” Sabine said, and her voice was carefully measured. “I never thought I’d illustrate a kid’s book.”

Hera had no words, so she threw her arms around Sabine instead, murmuring her thanks through her tears. Sabine accepted the hug, squeezing Hera just as tight, and they stayed that way for a long while.

Ezra

Jacen grew and grew until he no longer fit in her arms- or rather, he wiggled out of them every time Hera tried to pick him up. He started to beg to learn how to fly as the war drew to a close but it wasn’t until after the Battle of Endor that Hera felt the skies were safe enough for her son.

Sabine teased her that Jacen inherited his recklessness from both sides of the family. Hera couldn’t bring herself to disagree, but she looked around at her friends and family- Mandalorians and Lasats and spies and galactic heroes- and thought that her child’s thrill-seeking tendencies came more from his company rather than his blood.

The conclusion of the war didn’t mean the end of the fighting, but peace was at last on the horizon and her fellow rebels begun planning their lives in this new, free galaxy. Hera could be a mother full-time now, and not have to worry if each goodbye to her son would be her last.

She thought that this would mean fulfillment- and in many ways, it did. The galaxy was entering a new age, but there were too many things left behind for Hera to move on completely. Much of it, she would never get back- but for some, there remained hope of rescue.

She saw so much of Ezra in Jacen. His energy, for one, and his innocence. His optimism, too- Jacen was a happy baby and nothing short of an ebullient child. Hera and Kallus liked to joke that his smile could light up the galaxy. It was impossible, when gazing into Jacen’s blue eyes, not to see the hope and love of another boy who once looked to her as a mother. They had so much in common, these children of war, but their biggest similarity was those who loved them.

Sabine was the first one to teach her the bittersweet pride of a child leaving the nest, and she came to Hera again to tell her that she must go. Hera had fear and love and faith for her, but little surprise when Sabine promised to bring Ezra home. With a blessing and a plea to stay safe, she hugged Sabine tight and watched her set off into the galaxy again.

When evening fell, and Hera was alone again, Jacen approached his mother and snuggled into her arms. As much as she tried to protect her son, he always seemed to know when she was sad.

Hera didn’t think that she’d ever be complete without Kanan, without Ezra, without everyone she’d lost in a lifetime at war. But she was not alone, she knew- she had her son in her embrace and a family in every corner of the galaxy. That, for now, was enough, and she had hope that she would see them all again one day.

[zee-writes-and-draws]

Truly Important

Summary: A look at some of the more important birthdays that Saw Paing has had, and the one he celebrated right after the tournament.

A/n: It's still July 8th, so I'm on time w/this. Nonetheless, I slept five hours so I apologize for lack of proofreading.

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The first birthday that Saw Paing truly considers important is his fifth one, the day he gets to start Lethwei training for the very first time. He comes home covered in scratches and bruises and a trickle of blood running down his forehead. His father fusses a little and his ma doesn’t let him up until she bandages every little cut and bruise but nothing can spoil his good mood as Ne Win Paing puts him in a headlock and their little sister congratulates him on the start of his training.

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Most birthdays to Saw Paing aren’t majorly important beyond the fact that even as a fighter Pa Paing did his best to see every single child on their birthday every year. But some are important because there’s new people in his life, people who aren't’ there, certain benchmarks and events that are important in and of themselves, but are easier to tie to years and dates and celebrations.

Saw Paing’s sixteenth birthday is remembered fondly only because it is one week before he meets his eternal rival for the very first time, a boy named Gaolang Wongsawat.

------

Seventeen. Nothing particularly important. Current youngest brother starts his training that year.

Eighteen. Important solely by the freedom it grants in travelling. Almost all countries recognize eighteen as an age of majority, an age where you can do a lot of things that would be illegal otherwise like go somewhere without an adult’s supervision or rent a car so you have your own transport. Going to places outside of Myanmar and Thailand is the most interesting he’s done in his entire life.

Nineteen. He finally gets a job outside the village. The weapons corporation that hired him is run by an old man and a teenage girl with a vicious streak longer than the destruction radius of the missiles she’s designed. Still, they hired him to safety test things and work to rescue people in afflicted areas, not attack them. It’s Togo Tomari’s brilliant ruthlessness that causes him to end up in the same place as Muteba for a month. Another friendship struck up with someone he’s fought against. A birthday gift of an absolutely gorgeous button-up with twelve patterns and wild color is dropped off at his door that year. Even though the gifter will likely never see it, Saw Paing wears the shirt with pride as often as he can for the next few years.

Twenty. Barely important but it was Gaolang’s eighteenth birthday that year and the time the title ‘God of War’ starts creeping into people’s thoughts about him. Saw Paing cheers his rival on whenever possible.

Twenty-one. Nothing. Little sister asks out crush, dates her for seven months and change before they have to break up because the crush’s family is moving. He and Muteba have each others numbers saved and text between missions.

Twenty-two. He and Ne Win Paing get to fight outside of legal matches for the first time. It’s exhilarating. Their father hugs them both afterwards and tells them how proud he is.

Twenty-three. The first birthday in their family celebrated after Pa Paing passes. It’s somber. Saw Paing would rather have skipped the day entirely if not for how his youngest siblings all seemed determined to follow traditions for at least the illusion of normalcy  and he’s not about to ruin their coping process just because he’s sad. With Ne Win Paing travelling nearly full-time and recovering when he’s home, Saw Paing is the de facto leader of the family and he’s not going to let them down so easily.

That night there’s a card delivered to him by a hassled-looking mail carrier. It’s from Gaolang.

I heard about your father’s death, Saw Paing. My deepest condolences to both you and your family. Take care of yourself. Do what you must to feel more stable.

To anyone else the writing would be cold and impersonal. Saw Paing re-reads it over and over until a drop splashes onto it and the crinkling of paper registers and then he hurriedly folds it and drops it onto the desk in his room so it doesn’t get destroyed.

If in two weeks when they next see each other, Gaolang relents and truly fights Saw Paing for twenty minutes before declaring a defeat form boredom, neither of them acknowledge the change in routine anymore than they acknowledge that Saw Paing’s yelling is more like loud talking and that Gaolang had made an extra plate of his favorite fish seemingly just in case.

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Twenty-four. Saw Paing meets Sayaka for the very first time that year, a bright and sunshine-sweet teenager who screams out his intro and doesn’t seem to mind that he’s super-loud or that his opponent throws him into the commentators box and nearly crushes her by accident.

When he had apologized she made a joke about it. He made one back. A friendship stronger than any other he’d made was started that day. Sayaka reminds him of his little sisters, friendly and upbeat and ready to take on the world if she has to and come out with a smile, sharp wit and keen mind concealed under a bubbly layer that requires no lying to maintain.

That year his birthday includes a surprise delivery of a completely new set of cookware with a small note attached.

Happy birthday, Saw! Sorry I couldn’t make it, dad scheduled fifty matches for this week alone so I’m not even sleeping, but I hope you like it! See you in May (PS I’m secretly rooting for you!)

That night Saw Paing makes dinner for everyone with said cookware and an unflappable grin on his face.

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Twenty-five. Nothing.

Twenty-six. His little sister is now formally competing on a near-national level. His brothers, no longer so small but always little in his eyes, work hard to bring in food and water and trade with the local villages and Saw Paing never stops feeling proud of them.

Twenty-seven. More and more fights in the arena. He leaves Tomari’s contracts behind but keeps in touch with Muteba. A chance metal concert allows him to meet Yoshiko, who in turn introduces him to Sawada. Saw Paing mails him several CDs of traditional Burmese music for the other man’s birthday. Gets a collection of ballet remixes in exchange. Listens to the collection every night for weeks and weeks on end until he can whistle half the songs without thinking. Smiles at how many small reminders he has now of the people he cares about.

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Twenty-eight. The coldest and harshest one yet. Ne Win Paing is not there that year. Everyone’s energy is lower than usual. Saw Paing spends the day mostly taking care of the youngest siblings and visiting the graves of those he’s lost. He can feel the wrongness of this land on his skin, it’s Yoroizuka’s home and that’s better than the alternatives but it is not his home or their home or the home that his family deserved and had grown up in and lost because of Ne Win Paing or maybe because Saw Paing should have noticed sooner, should have caught onto the damage his brother had taken.

Sayaka leaves twenty voicemails and thirty texts, all reassurance and compassion and kindness that Saw Paing is beginning to doubt he deserves. Sawada had arranged for several boxes of their favorite sweets from all over the world to be delivered to his house. Muteba messages him a list of names and places if he needs to fight the emotions out or to talk to a professional specializing in fighters and loss of loved ones and tells him to cherish the rest of his family.

Gaolang visits that evening, sleeplessness evident in his posture and eyebags. It’s rarer and rarer for the two of them to see each other now, between the jobs they both hold and duties they’re bound to. Saw Paing’s first priority will always be his family, just as at the end of the day the Thai God of War is not that but the bodyguard of Prince Rama of Thailand. And yet here they are, sitting next to a firepit just outside a house that was not truly meant for Saw Paing’s family, in a country outside of Gaolang’s own.

“Are you alright?” Gaolang asks him. Saw Paing looks up.

I’ll be fine, he wants to say, thinks instead because even things like talking feel like too much right now. He settles for a nod instead, one that feels too slow and tired to really be him but has to be because who else could he be? Gaolang does not look reassured by this. He sits down next to Saw Paing and talks. That quiet voice, normally at least partially twinged with annoyance and exhaustion, now flows with an undertone of gentle energy. It’s not the fire that Saw Paing usually feels running through his veins. Nor is it Ne Win Paing’s quick fury or Pa Paing’s ruthless confidence.

No, it’s the other kind of energy, the kind that Gaolang always emits though it’s hidden under the day-to-day life’s mundaneness. Gaolang tell him about fights, about what guarding Prince Rama has been like for him, some recipe his parents love and he despises because of how annoyingly spicy it is and how Saw Paing would probably like it. And then he talks about staring into a fire.

“Look,” Gaolang motions at it. “It moves so incredibly, alive and unalive at once.” Saw Paing looks into the fire, watches the moving flames flicker and dance in and out of existence. Next to him, Gaolang smiles.

“It reminds me of you sometimes. The difference is fire burns out. I truly hope you never do.” They sit next to each other, watching for a while until something in Saw Paing’s chest undoes itself, letting some feeling back in. Gaolang notices.

“Tell me about Ne Win Paing,” he asks, shoulder brushing against Saw Paing’s own, warmer than the air around by just enough to be noticeable without feeling too off-balance. And so he does, spilling out every little detail he can remember about his brother and all of the memories that were crafted for as long as he can remember. The sky is light when he finishes, still tired but somehow lighter. That something that had unwound a bit earlier is almost completely gone. He’s still saddened by the loss of one of the greatest people in his life, but things look a little better.

Gaolang leaves then, apologetic but unable to stay. Saw Paing nods at him again to say it’s alright and it must come across sufficiently this time, because Gaolang’s smiling softly as he walks to his car and drives back to his too-loud and too-busy life for such a quiet man and yet a life that couldn’t be anyone else’s.

Saw Paing’s younger siblings are slowly waking up, coming out to check up on him and start their day. He hugs them, feeling his spirit coming back to something normal.

------

Twenty-nine. Still a tad colder than before but mostly better.

Thirty. A year with little occurring beyond the increasing amount of kengan matches and the frequency that he gets to see old friends like Sayaka. The tournament that happens later in the year is undoubtedly something unforgettable that he;ll treasure for the rest of his life. So many new friends made, so many bonds forged and strengthened. He makes it a point to keep correspondence with all of them, even the more quiet ones like Karo and Rei. They clearly need the company if they're quite that quiet.

Thirty-one. He wakes up expecting another birthday that’s rather insignificant. His sisters and brothers in college call and Skype and do whatever else they need to say hello first thing in the morning, yelling through the screen loud enough that he can her the dorm’s complaints through the call. The siblings still at home whether from sentimentality or youth wake him minutes before that by running into his room and wishing a happy birthday to him at the top of their lungs. He’s so proud of their lung training being quite so successful.

He checks his phone after all of the younger siblings hang up out of habit. There’s another twelve messages from various members of the assassin clans he’s befriended, a missed call from Cosmo, a notification about a post from Adam, and an alert of the local post office telling him about several packages that are addressed to him.

On the journey to the post office and back he gets six more calls. As he’s balancing reading a short ‘happy birthday!’ texted to him from Cosmo and a rambly congratulation courtesy of Okubo that is interrupted by an incoming call from either Hanafusa or Yoshizawa, a wonderfully familiar voice calls out.

“Saw! Over here!” Sayaka stands by the edge of the road, looking as red carpet-ready as always, except for the small trolley of boxes and bags she’s keeping from rolling away.

“HEY SAYAKAAAA!!!!!” He yells to her as he runs over. She’s hugging him so there’s no reason not to complete their usual greeting by picking her up and spinning in several circles.

“Happy birthday, Saw!” She laughs as he puts her down. “Sorry I didn’t warn you, but there was a lot of last minute stuff and everyone wanted to send something to you and it was ‘one more thing’ this and ‘oh wait here!’ that, and it’s so great to see you again! Here!” the packages he was holding until two seconds ago are now in Sayaka’s hands, traded for a fancy-looking photo album.

“It’s for you. I wish I could stay, but Retsudo’s been flipping out for six hours and he threatened to send a SAR squad again, but I promise i’ll call this evening, kay? See ya soon, Saw Paing!” She runs to the familiar figures of Takyama and Misasa, waving the whole time they drive away until she’s out of his line of sight. Only tnen does Saw Paing turn his attention to the trolley and the photo album.

Getting everything home requires ignoring messages and calls so his plan to find out what these things are that everyone was so determined to send to him has to wait another hour or so but then he finally has the time to check everything out.

There’s two gorgeous shirts that fit perfectly, bright greens and yellows combining with the soft fabric and reminding him of his old shirt but nicer. This, he knows without even needing to check the card, is a gift that only someone like Muteba would have gotten him. A thick book of various recipes from several different regions in Japan, along with an impressively full binder of leaflet instructions for dishes made in the mountains is sent courtesy of Sekibayashi and Haruo.

A sharp-looking knife that seems to be more familiar with intestines sliding across its blade than vegetables is gifted by the Kures he’d met after Hayami’s rebellion, right next to several ‘free assassination’ coupons Reichii and Fusui must have snuck in as a half-joke and and half-true gift.

Most of the things are actually quite small, just fragile and packaged with an insane amount of cushioning, he realizes. It’s nothing particularly fancy, but they’re all things that will remind him of the senders, be it the scalpel that Hanafusa mailed him with instructions on how to DIY surgery or the old shogi set Kaneda gifts along with a book on most famous shogi strategies played throughout history.

Saw Paing moves everything to where it should be once everything but the photo album has been looked through. The cookbooks go to a specific shelf in the kitchen that no one else can reach. The weapons are hidden in a small box under his bed to avoid any incidents. Muteba’s shirts go onto hangers, Sawada’s fancy candies are set on a plate for eating while looking at this final gift, and then the album is opened.

The first photo makes him smile, a perfect snapshot from one of his earliest fights in the Kengan matches, capturing the moment they had both gone from enemies to friends mid-blow. A date, presumably of when the photo was taken, is written on the border in Sayaka’s neat writing. The second one is of Ne Win Paing from seven years ago. This time, the date is in heavier, blockier writing, not unlike Hollis’s. Saw Paing flips through the album a little more, taking it in. there’s plenty of photos of his various friends, fellow fighters, and even some family from the tournament and before it, but there’s also old photos of his brother and father, and even one of his mother back when she had fought in occasional matches, along with candids of some of the more stoic people. They must have been collected over several months, and not just by Sayaka.

Saw Paing already knows what will happen this evening. Gaolang will come over with some kind of small yet so deeply personal way of also saying happy birthday. Sayaka will call again, most likely throwing a small party in the Katahara house and inviting everyone she can. Rei might stop by and even if he doesn’t, he’ll Skype before the sun sets because he’s a punctual person by both nature and training.

But that’s still hours away, and in the meantime, Saw Paing decides to keep looking at the beautiful snapshots of the past, enjoying the present to it’s fullest.

------

END.

[athys-obelia]

summary: the non dysfunctional!imperial family au hcs no one asked for 😳👉👈

character/s: anastacius de alger obelia, claude de alger obelia, athanasia de alger obelia, jennette de alger obelia

here's part 2 :)

let’s set our stage, shall we?

first of all claude n anastacius’ dad is dead coz we don’t like him at all ew

so ana is the emperor, and claude is his heir presumptive (aka he’s got the strongest claim to the throne rn, but this can be changed by the birth of someone who has a stronger one - ie, anastacius’ child who would be the heir apparent) also bc “i know my mom and i gave u lots of childhood trauma that you prlly won’t be recovering from because therapists aren’t a thing here but here’s a crown you might get to make it better”

claude’s in a position where after the birth of ana’s kid/direct descendant, he’s gonna be given a duchy that athy should inherit after him while still retaining the title of prince

but after hearing of diana’s pregnancy, ana tells her and claude he doesn’t really plan on having children and wants to make their future kid his successor

he basically reserves a spot for their child in the directory and rather than announcing anything publically, anastacius names her athanasia after the sex is confirmed

then this mf obviously pulls a clown move and gets penelope pregnant and complicates things, ultimately naming her jennette, finding the name fitting - ‘god is gracious’

and really, what could be more evidence of god’s grace than the child he’s now fathering, when he thought his legacy would be ending with him?

anyways!!!

so since athy and jennette are born near the beginning of ana’s reign, both claude and anastacius are wayyy too busy trying to bring back the empire from the literal brink of bankruptcy and a possible war to really spend time w their kids

it’s alright, though!! lily is hired as athy’s nanny, while jennette gets kiel’s mom as hers

they all still live together, though obviously the main palace is for ana + jennette while claude + athy are in a separate one

this 'separate one’ is ruby palace after ana dismisses the concubines and he definitely 100% did this on purpose, and whenever he’s summoning claude he’s such a shit about it and goes about it the way you’d summon a deadass concubine

on a separate note, it’s surprisingly claude who visits athy first - he’s seen her here and there with lily but hasn’t ever had the chance to spend time w her. but now it’s almost been a year since athy’s birth (or diana’s death), her first birthday is fast approaching, and he is drunk

lily is a reallyyyy light sleeper and enters the nursery upon hearing someone inside

she doesn’t expect to see the prince standing above his daughter’s crib, a strand of her golden hair between his fingers as he just…stares at her

she approaches quietly, curtsying in greeting - he’s too absorbed to notice, and after a few minutes of silence lilian tells him, “babies can get lonely too, your highness.”

he glances at her then, confused. “how?” he really can’t understand how this girl, who can’t even speak yet comprehend something like loneliness

“princess athanasia is very responsive to her surroundings, much more than children her age usually are,” lily says, “and i like to believe children are able to tell when their parents are with them.”

he scoffs - what a foolish thought. still, claude sits by her bedside, and before he can register it, he’s taken over by sleep

the next night, claude makes his way towards the nursery and stiffly asks if athy could sleep beside him for the night - it’s fairly late, but lilian allows it

he’s gone to the main palace too early the next morning for athy to be awake, but she spent about two minutes tops worrying about the strange surroundings, saw the shiny chandelier and fancy bed and decided yes, she doesn’t mind this kidnapping

this becomes somewhat of a regular occurrence soon enough, and sometime that week she wakes up in the middle of the night with her nose pressed into something soft and literally falls off the huge ass bed at the realisation that this something soft is actually her papa’s hair (you just know that hair smells great i mean uh-)

this mans wakes up and peeks at her on the ground, reaches out to grab her from the front of her nightdress (he swears it’s exactly how he’s seen lilian do it) and plops her back onto the bed

she backs up OBVIOUSLY, you don’t just wake up with a random ass man in your bed and just vibe together?? lee jihye is dying but he glares at her for disturbing his sleep and athy pulls her act together in 0.000001 secs as claude pulls her closer and goes back to sleep

as athy grows, claude starts allowing her to visit his office during the day until it becomes a sort of ritual - he’d have tea and milk prepared and she’d come, sitting somewhere completing a puzzle or sum while he works

mans nearly tears down the entire imperial palace the day she doesn’t show up until he finds her in the garden, teaching jettie the 'proper’ way to hold a teacup during tea parties while lilian and roger’s wife, vivian, watch

athy emotionally blackmails asks him to join the tea party, so half an hour later, anastacius finds his brother sitting on the grass with a plastic teacup that athy’s filling with hot water as she lectures him to learn to fix his posture from lily so he can sit like a “proper dignified lady”

so in the beginning, jennette actually ends up spending more time with claude than her dad. though one day, the brothers are in the audience hall when athy runs in with felix running after her telling her not to run (there’s a shit ton of guards surrounding anastacius so felix has orders to be with princess athanasia when claude is with ana)

anastacius is used to this sight, and watches, smirking at his brother’s subtle smile as athy offers him this wonky looking flower crown - claude accepts it wordlessly, and ana wants to slap his ass to sanity, who wouldn’t thank their kid when they do adorable things like this??

but then they hear another voice, and in comes jennette with vivian not too far behind her. now jettie has a much cleaner looking crown in her hand, but she glances at her father’s elaborate and beautiful crown all embedded with gems and glittering and then at the one she’s fashioned out of daisies

she's always thought she was much like her uncle - jennette was so fascinated by the plain daises, they weren’t flashy but caught her eye all the same - while athy was shiny and bold like her dad

but now she’s second guessing her choice, how could she make such a simple crown for her dad, the emperor??

claude sighs from beside anastacius and literally picks off his brother’s crown before tossing it towards a very tired felix

athy urges jennette forward, and with a bright red covering her entire face she offers the crown. jennette glances at her uncle for comfort before muttering, “for papa”

anastacius.exe has crashed

this blushly, embarrassed, and apparently talented at flower crowns kid was his?

long story short he forgets to breathe or react and jettie thinks he hates the crown and hates her and won’t ever like to see her again so she starts getting teary

claude pushes his brother’s head down before athy can be convicted for murder

ana 100% almost faints when her tiny chubby fingers delicately place the crown in place, he’ll never admit it but he closed his eyes and almost hugged her instinctively as she shyly adjusted some of his bangs around the new headpiece, muttering, “papa pretty”

jennette rushes back to her sister, who’s glaring daggers at the emperor

anastacius tries to smile to calm jennette a bit and maybe look nice enough for his niece to not kill him in his sleep

right well kiel becomes the royal playmate for both the princesses - athy has her classes with him since she’s advanced and honestly they’ll be going back forth with infodumps one minute and he’s teaching her to make paper airplanes the next

(she writes notes on the paper airplanes the next time she’s in claude’s office and flies them towards him, stuff like, 'does uncle cius also snore loudly like papa?’ and he gets seriously offended like a pissbaby)

jennette first met kiel when he was visiting his mom - vivian had to leave for a bit and she taught him a bunch of flower names and their meanings in the meantime - he makes sure to research a new flower every time he visits her, and brings her a bouquet of said flowers she always knows them but never says anything coz she doesn’t wanna hurt his feelings and he gets so excited as he tells her about their meanings it’s so cute

speaking of jennette - claude and ana may seem worlds apart but they’re at the same level of emotionally constipated

ana watches his brother and niece interact and he craves that, an unconditional, timeless love that can’t possibly be tainted by ulterior motives or the like, but he just doesn’t know how to approach little jettie

it seems easy enough - she’s a smiley, sweet girl and theoretically would be friendly if he is to approach her

but gods he’s just so ashamed - such a sweet babe grew without either of her parents and he doesn’t have an excuse because holy hell, even claude is close to athy

he’s being served food in his chambers when he asks the maid about jennette, and she tells him how among her first words was 'love’ and the brunette would just stroll the palace pointing at people and declare “love you” and watch their face light up

thats so CUTE OMFG

his jaw is touching the floor when he’s told that his daughter knows the names of every worker within the palaces

at this point he’s honestly questioning whether this child is his at all

he’s absolutely horrified at the realisation that this maid, who doesn’t even work in jennette’s part of the palace, knows more about her than he does - hell, he hadn’t even asked vivian to keep him updated on her growth, what right does he have to stick himself into her life now?

now, the maid quietly suggests starting with something small like inviting jennette to tea and

of course he goes about it the wrong way??

poor jettie thinks she’s being tested by the ruthless emperor on her etiquette and spends the entire day practicing with claude after athy guilted him into it

she’s so nervous in front of her dad that he honestly feels even guiltier, and anastacius hurries to grab her hands in his to calm their tremble as she reaches to serve him tea

she apologises lmao and he’s just so flustered himself that he orders for her to sit down and instructs her through a few deep breaths

as she calms down, ana serves her the tea before asking whether girls her age even drink tea

she says no and you can literally hear the crickets

he slides the cup he’s poured for her over to his side before gesturing towards the deserts (it was claude’s daughter-luring pro tip) on her side

“you look like you read a lot,” ana says, before asking whether she’s been reading anything interesting lately

“i don’t, actually,” she tells him shyly

anastacius laughs at how of all things his hate for books is what she got from him - and only when jennette chuckles does he realise that he said that out loud

he lets her go around her bedtime, feeling rather… energized? he doesn’t know how to explain it, but it’s a good feeling

he’s busy again the next day, but has an aide send her flowers - the same ones she had put in her flower crown for him

yes lucas is still sleeping in the palace, yes athy still finds him

so athy sees the flowers from uncle cius and is enraged, literally walks up to her uncle and demands he leave jennette alone if he’s only gonna break her heart by neglecting her

and so we have fifteen minutes of the emperor of obelia stuttering as he explains himself to this seven year old

smfh his cluelessness reminds her of her own dad and she takes pity on ana’s suffering soul

the next morning, to give him a chance to redeem himself, athy asks all four of them to have breakfast together - they accept the invitation, and despite an awkward start, the meal seems to be going well

peace is not written in this family’s fate however, and this is where the first coughing up blood thing happens

ohhhh the palace staff almost gets massacred that day

athy’s limp body is moved to jennette’s room since it’s the closest - lily bursts into tears at the very sight of her princess, jennette refuses to eat or drink until her sister can, felix hears his heart break, claude is barely holding himself together

ana is livid - who dares poison a member of his family? what has he even done to earn the privilege of calling these girls his family, when he can’t protect them, at the very least?

claude absolutely refuses to leave her room and finishes all his work right outside her door, lest she wake up in pain again

anastacius can’t keep his own anxiety about jennette at bay, insisting she sleep with him as long as claude stays with athanasia - he can tell she’s drained, and she ends up sharing some of her worries late at night. he soothes both her worries and her cries, letting her curl up into him despite it being a rather uncomfortable position

the family is thrown into chaos again once they realise it was never poison, but athy’s own magic that caused this

aka when chibi lucas drops by and voodoos her back to 100%, everyone legit starts worshipping the ground he walks on - he saved their precious princess!!

ana insists on making him athy’s royal playmate after hearing she isn’t fully healed yet

what does this give us? well, a very very early lucas vs kiel

since they’ve both got the title of royal playmate, they constantly argue on whether being the future duke alpheus is a better title than the future royal magician

the girls are always dragged into this - athy always takes kiel’s side to avenge blackie, and jennette likes kiel too, but the young magician sir saved her sister!!

so.

when vivian passes away due to an illness, it’s like roger is an entirely different person

jennette + kiel + athy all help with the funeral preparations since she was a mother/aunt to them all

felix seems to be paying extra attention to kiel

it isn’t long after this that roger decides to send him to arlanta for his studies, leaving behind two disillusioned princesses

athy spends her time viciously studying to stay ahead of arlanta’s curriculum, while jennette takes an interest in cooking

(athy tries and fails spectacularly; lucas laughs at her and jettie accidentally serves him his favourite food too salty to be edible)

a/n: this would be the first of the two parts, so stay on the lookout, hope y'all enjoyed n have a great day <3

edit: part 2

[hyena-frog]

Makes me so sad to think about how Cassius raised Lysander for 10 YEARS and came to love him like a brother and likely put a ton of effort into being a decent role model only for Lysander to turn around and become exactly like Octavia..... like can you imagine what must be going through Cassius’ head when he flies over Lysander at the end of DA.. :( seeing the kid he raised to adulthood become a monster.. I just... ugh. It tears me up inside

Hoo boy, I hope you’re prepared for the essay I’m about to write.

Genuinely, I think about this all the time. Cassius and Lysander have one of the most complex, tragic relationships the second trilogy has to offer. I hated Cassius so much after Golden Son but now he’s one of my favorite characters. I would really love it if he is the new POV Pierce Brown promised. In the second trilogy, Cassius has been exclusively filtered through Lysander’s POV, so I’m dying to know his own thoughts on everything that has happened. (But I would also like a Volga POV for the Obsidian story and maybe Diomedes POV for the Rim perspective. I’m torn.) I just want Cassius to have a happy ending. And I hate Lysander, but I would really like for him to see eye to eye with Cassius at least once before he is horribly, painfully, rightfully murdered.

Now, the thing is, Cassius didn’t come to love Lysander as a brother over time, he already loved him when he decided to become his guardian and mentor. It bugged me that, at the end of Morning Star, it didn’t feel like Cassius’ decision to take in Lysander was justified enough. All we really got out of him was that Lysander reminded him of Julian. Pretty flimsy. Then Iron Gold came along and blessed us with a flashback to when they first met. Little Lysander wasn’t too impressed with Cassius (he wasn’t exactly as respectable post Red Rising as he is now) but Cassius quickly went from calling Lysander an “eerie little creature” to declaring “I’ve decided to like you, little moon boy.” From that moment, Cassius truly cared for Lysander. Reading that flashback again after Dark Age makes me so emotional.

Lysander has this complex about being Julian’s replacement, that Cassius doesn’t love him so much as he loves the shadow of Julian he sees in him. And he’s justified, in a way, because Cassius does slip up and call him Julian sometimes, but it’s usually when he’s delirious from pain and not thinking clearly. Lysander completely misses the fact that Cassius does love him. I guess he doesn’t have much experience recognizing when he’s genuinely cared for, because why would he, but there is plenty of evidence of Cassius’ true feelings.

For example, Cassius sold most of his remaining family possessions to keep them afloat on the Archimedes. Now, Cassius isn’t strapped for cash by any means but the fact he cares for Lysander (and Pytha) enough to sell many of the last reminders of his dead family that he owns, is very telling. But Lysander doesn’t think about that. He acknowledges that it happened but doesn’t consider the deeper, emotional meaning behind that action.

Another example is Cassius opening up to Lysander about the last time he ever saw his father. How he disappointed Tiberius but finally regained his respect, only for the entire Bellona family to be slaughtered shortly after that reconciliation. That was a sign that he loves and trusts Lysander enough to be vulnerable with him. He never told that story to anyone else, as far as we know. He believed he was going to die in the Bleeding Place and wanted that memory of his father to live on in Lysander. The fact that Lysander is blind to how Cassius genuinely loves him, even now, is tragic.

You’re right, Cassius did try to be a good role model and pass on good morals. I think the scene in Dark Age, where Pytha confesses that Cassius forbade her from revealing to Lysander that she is actually a soldier and not a disgraced commercial pilot, as he was lead to believe, was very telling. Cassius attempted to show Lysander life outside of politics and war. He tried to show him that all Colors are equals deserving of respect. Cassius was devastated when Lysander chose to save Seraphina over the many mid- and low-color prisoners on the Vindabona. He was horrified that Lysander chose “quality” of life saved over quantity. This coming from Cassius, who compared Pinks to animals in Red Rising. Cassius has learned and changed a lot since the first book and he tried to pass those lessons onto Lysander. But it didn’t stick. Not even after 10 years of teaching.

Unfortunately, his teachings were tainted by his bad coping mechanisms for his personal demons. His alcoholism, his continued pining for Virginia, combined with his betrayal of Octavia and involvement in Aja's brutal murder, gave Lysander enough excuses to never fully embrace his lessons. While Lysander did love Cassius, there was always some flaw or another in his teacher that allowed him to comfortably distance himself from the lessons that diverged from Octavia’s teachings. To be honest, Cassius had no business taking on a ward while he was so torn up inside. Keeping Lysander isolated in a tin can in the middle of space for 10 years, instead of living among diverse people, didn’t do him any favors either. Frankly, Cassius missed a lot of red flags. A big one is the fact Lysander carved Lux ex tenebris, the Lune family motto, into the ceiling of his room on the Archimedes, where he could stare up at it every night. Yikes.

This dissonance in Lysander’s thinking is what lead to his betrayal in the Bleeding Place. Yes, Lysander loves Cassius and wanted to save his life rather than see him die at the hands of people who don’t respect him. But he also genuinely believes in the inherent hierarchy of Octavia’s teachings, that the “true order” is for Cassius to follow him. If Cassius lives, if he can convince him that his rightful place is to follow Lysander, things can finally be right in the worlds. Cassius failed to express his feelings in a way Lysander can comprehend, so he felt he was just a replacement for Julian. Lysander can dismiss Cassius’ love as love for his dead twin, and in turn, he can dismiss his claim to believe in the inherent equality of humankind as guilt and justification for killing his Sovereign. Cassius was unable to truly see how badly he failed until he was betrayed.

Since Cassius was absent for most of the plot following his “death” it’s difficult to concretely say what he’s been thinking since then. But I’ve been thinking a lot about him, so here is my conjecture. Take it with a grain of salt.

That moment you mention, when Cassius flies overhead, he deliberately retracted his helmet for a brief moment of eye contact with Lysander, so he would know exactly who rescued Darrow... Shivers. So much left unsaid. I imagine Cassius was thinking a lot of things in that moment. On the one hand, some pettiness and anger at being betrayed: “I lived bitch, I rescued Darrow, this is where my loyalties lie.” But there was also probably a mixture of shock and guilt at knowing what Lysander has done, at who he’s sided with and enabled, but also at seeing evidence of physical suffering in Lysander's burn scar and blind eye. Cassius loved Lysander, he was his guardian for 10 years, so he would hate to see him hurt. I think he would feel responsible for Lysander’s actions on some level, even if he logically understands that he’s an adult who makes his own choices.

Regardless, Cassius probably blames himself on some level. That’s what I think anyway. He tried his best to teach this kid good morals for an entire decade only for him to cling to the ideals his grandmother taught him. That has to sting. It’s probably also embarrassing, to a degree. Cassius made this grand promise to Darrow that he’d raise Lysander right, that Sevro was wrong to suggest they should have just killed him when he was little. Now Cassius’ failure to make good on that promise has been advertised to the whole Solar System through Lysander’s actions on Mercury. Surely Cassius feels responsible.

Cassius had a lot of time to think during his long return trip to the Core. About what happened with Lysander in the Rim, about his lingering feelings for Virginia, about his place in the Republic, and about what he really considers the right thing to do. Cassius can be intensely empathetic when he allows himself to be. For example, in Morning Star, he managed to really sympathize with Darrow’s life when they were drinking whiskey together. I’m willing to bet he spent that long return journey considering Lysander’s perspective with a clear head, after spending so many years lost in the haze of his own sorrows. Now that he is out of that bad mental place, he is likely able to see where he made mistakes in how he raised Lysander.

It will make for an interesting confrontation between Cassius and Darrow, who is thoroughly, understandably, done with Lysander, when the time comes to kill him. Cassius knows the danger Lysander poses and probably won’t argue against killing him this time, but I do think he would resist a little and at least try to find an alternative solution.

Lastly, I just want to say this, since it’s sort of relevant: This fandom tends to agree that Sevro should have just killed Lysander as a child, but if I’m being honest, I don’t agree. Kill Lysander now, as an adult, by all means, but as a kid he hadn’t done anything wrong yet, even if he was a little creepy. Darrow was right to give him the chance to live in peace. Too bad he ultimately didn’t take it. I especially don’t think Cassius would agree killing Lysander as a kid was the right choice, even now. He is traumatized by the sudden loss of most of his family, including little kids, so I don’t think he’d ever agree to killing a child. If he could somehow go back in time, knowing what he knows now, I think he would make the same choice to raise Lysander. In that scenario, I think he would rather try to fix the mistakes he made as a mentor, rather than punish Lysander.

Guh. Anyway. I had a lot of words in me about this subject. Hope you got something out of it! I’m consistently amazed by how Pierce Brown’s writing compels me to think deeply about these characters. Not to mention his ability to make me understand Lysander’s perspective even if I don’t like it or agree with it. Cassius’ perspective though... well, half of this post is just me guessing, so we’ll have to see how close I am to canon when book 6 comes out. Thanks for reading!

[onebatch2batch]

kastle + "“Is that.. my shirt?” please and thank you❤️❤️

HI, I KNOW YOU SENT THIS A MILLION YEARS AGO BUT I JUST FINISHED IT SO HOPEFULLY YOU LIKE IT <3

--

If there’s one thing Karen hates most in the world, it’s laundry. Which isn’t entirely warranted, because a majority of her things are dry clean only, and she usually only has to do a load or two herself every other week—but still. She hates that it feels like an all day affair, she hates folding everything, she hates the feel of the lint of her fingers when she removes it from the filter. So when a warm Saturday in June arrives and she’s low on clothes, like really low on clothes, Karen realizes she should start a load. 

Unfortunately, her body is not on board with the idea. She wakes up slow, eats some late breakfast, and lethargically gathers the clothes strewn about her apartment. It’s a Saturday, so she has nothing to do but procrastinate. Procrastination forces her into the shower, and procrastination has her drinking coffee in a towel at the edge of her bed as she realizes that she has nothing to put on. It’s either she wears a skirt and blouse around the apartment or a towel until the first load is done. 

Or, her brain supplies helpfully, there’s Frank’s drawer. 

Karen’s eyes slide unwittingly towards her dresser, where the bottom drawer remains firmly closed. He’s been out of town for the last week or so with Curtis, up in the mountains with absolutely no reception. She knows it’s good for him to get away every once in a while, especially with his friends, but part of her—the smallest part, the only part not thinly veiled in denial—wishes he would have asked her along. It’s a thought she’s had a lot in the last couple days, accompanied by the hollow ache left by his absence. 

God, she misses him. 

She misses his surprise visits that turn into too much wine and inevitably leading to his crashing on the couch. She misses waking in the morning to freshly brewed coffee and he at the kitchen counter, head bowed over a book. She misses walking into the bathroom and inhaling Frank’s steamy post-shower smell: cedarwood, something earthy, something subtly metallic. It’s both a blessing and a curse to have him stay the night at her place; she only wishes it was in her bed, not on the couch. 

Karen sighs. Goosebumps are starting to pebble on her skin from the AC, and so she steels her resolve and kneels before Frank’s drawer. She’d casually offered it to him months ago over breakfast. You spend the night enough, she tells him while staring resolutely into her mug. Might as well have a change of clothes here just in case you need them. 

She had felt his eyes on her, all intense heat and wariness, long enough for her to fidget. And then finally he’d said: Yeah. Yeah, okay. Thanks, Karen. 

The drawer is filled with a myriad of things, and not just clothes. On the top of the pile there’s a paperback by Jack Kerouac, a box of ammo, and a pair of spare keys she suspects is to that intimidating black van he drives. Underneath is a pair of socks, boxers (that she hurriedly paws past), some grey sweatpants (that look absolutely sinful on him, she recalls), and a pair of dark jeans. At the very bottom is a long sleeved henley and a plain black t shirt—Karen pulls out the t shirt and slips it over her head before she can talk herself out of it.

It’s comfortable, if a little too big. The hem hangs just past her hips when she stands, so Karen slips on a pair of underwear and leaves it at that. The rest of the afternoon she spends doing laundry and pretending as if she can’t smell him on her with every inhale. And when the guilt starts to eat at her, she tells herself that the shirt will be cleaned and replaced before Frank even knows it’s missing. 

—

Except it isn’t, because of course it isn’t. 

Hour three of dragging herself through the slowest washing machine cycle in the world (she’d splurged a little on an apartment with a hook up, too unwilling to deal with the laundromat down the block) and the worst dryer to accompany it (she hadn’t so much splurged on the actual machines)—finds Karen on the couch, flipping through the television channels. It’s nearly four o’clock and the temperature outside has finally broken, so the air is off and the windows are open. A soft breeze occasionally brushes over the exposed skin of her legs. And there’s absolutely nothing on the television. 

So she does what any sane person would do, and returns to Frank’s drawer for the book. Not that she doesn’t have plenty of her own reading material, but she’s never read Kerouac and she’s a little curious what Frank sees in him. It’s halfway through the first chapter that she realizes there’s a key turning in the lock, and that Frank’s back. 

Because of course he would walk in to this: her, clothed in underwear and his t shirt and no bra; sitting with her legs stretched across the couch cushions, back against the arm; his book in her hands as she struggles to parse the casual run-ons of Kerouac; a basket of half folded laundry on the floor. And he does—his face appears at the end of the hall leading to her front door and he pauses, bag slung over his shoulders and eyebrows raised to his hair. 

“Hi, Frank,” Karen greets, carefully closing the book. “How was your trip?”

His eyes glance quickly at her exposed legs, and then up to his t shirt, back down to her legs, and then up to her face. Karen relishes in the warm flush that spreads across his cheeks, even if it is partially covered by his beard. “It was, uh, it was good,” he tells her roughly, unmoving. His eyes stray back to her lower half. “Is that...my shirt?”

Karen realizes that she should be embarrassed by her lack of clothes or admonished for going through his things without asking. But the only thing she really can feel is frustrated as a thought strikes her. That day in the hospital when she and Frank were alone--before Amy had interrupted--after Karen had all but blurted her feelings into the stale, tension-heavy room. His entire body had been covered in lacerations and zig zagged with stitches; his face was bruised and battered. He’d been so evasive with her, gaze hardly connecting with her own before darting away again. She’d been so afraid for him. Hopeless. And frustrated. 

“You could love someone else instead of another war.”

“I don’t want to.”

At the time he’d been so determined, so set in his jaw as the hoarse declaration hung in the air. She wonders if that’s changed now, months of spending the night and phone calls and take out dinners later. If she were to ask the same question now—what he would say? 

“It is,” she tells him evenly.

Frank’s hand tightens on the strap of his bag, a nervous gesture. “Why?” he finally asks.

“I haven’t been pining after you, if that's what you mean. I was out of clothes.” Karen offers him a small smile, trying to quell the bout of butterflies that erupt in her stomach at the rough edge to his voice. 

To her relief he smiles. The tension eases from his shoulders. “You don’t seem like the pinin’ type.”

“I’m not.” Liar, liar, no pants on fire. “You just got back?” 

He nods, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Was thinking about gettin’ dinner.” 

“You find the take out menu, I’ll put pants on,” she wages.

Frank’s blush rises. He coughs and then turns, walking into the kitchen at a pace quicker than usual. Karen fidgets with the hem of the shirt, waiting until she can hear the telling sound of the coffee machine being manhandled. She grapples for a pair of leggings in the basket beside her and hurriedly puts them on. 

“Sorry about the shirt,” she says loudly. “I was completely out of laundry and I figured you wouldn’t be back for a while. I’ll wash it for you.” 

Frank reappears in the doorway, eyes on the floor until he’s sure she’s fully clothed. “Don’t worry about it,” he mumbles. “It’s nothin’.”

“I went into your things, Frank, I hardly think that’s nothing.” 

At that, he meets her gaze. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he counters, shooting her a grin. 

Karen huffs out a laugh. “Whatever. Hang on, I’m going to change out of this and then I'll order the food.” 

“No.” 

Karen swivels her head to give Frank a surprised look. The intensity of his no is startling but he seems as shocked as she is. There’s a beat of silence, and then he clears his throat and looks away as his finger starts that familiar rhythm against his leg. “I mean. You don’t have to. If you’re comfortable.” 

She considers pushing it. She doesn’t. Not yet. 

“I am. Thanks.” 

—

Several hours later, Karen realizes their bottle of wine is empty. She’s sitting against one arm of the couch with Frank against the other. Her legs bridge the gap between them, and if she were to point her toes she could touch the strong muscle of his thigh. Their take out boxes sit empty on the coffee table, and Frank has his head tilted back, eyes on the ceiling. The apartment is quiet.

“So what did you and Curtis do in the mountains?” Karen asks into the silence, hesitant to break it but curiosity finally getting the better of her. 

Frank sips his wine, and then turns his head to look at her. Karen is struck by how handsome he looks, the setting sun’s orange rays highlighting the curve of his nose and the warmth of his eyes. “Stupid shit,” he tells her with a chuckle. “We chopped up some trees, went hikin’--that asshole’s still faster’n me even with that leg--I read a lot. Talked. Drank some.”

Karen waggles her eyebrows. “Does that mean you guys got hammered in a cabin?”

His mouth curves into an amused smile. “Takes a lot to get me hammered, Karen.”

“When’s the last time you were?”

Karen is always careful about asking questions regarding his past. She knows it’s dangerous territory--one small slip could turn their conversation from lighthearted banter to emotional warfare. That’s the last thing she wants for him, for them. 

Thankfully, Frank has a quick answer. “Can’t remember. Years.”

She hums, curiosity piqued. She wonders what an overabundance of alcohol does to someone like Frank Castle--someone who is already so intense, so physical. Someone who already isn’t afraid to cry in front of her, who isn’t afraid to show emotion--would he close himself off, shut down? Would he laugh more? Would he touch her more than the casual touches she already receives? Would he kiss her? A thrill runs through her at the thought. She stays firmly planted on the couch, fighting the urge to grab the whiskey in her cupboard and put her theory to the test. 

“What about you?”

“What?”

Frank fixes her with an amused look. “The last time you were sideways.”

“Oh. A couple weekends ago, Foggy came over.” She smiles, remembering. “Marcie was out of town so he brought over the wine and we did--well, this. Take out and wine. A lot of wine.”

There’s an expression on his face she can’t figure out. A mixture of forced casualness, of caution, of amusement. “So this is--...” He pauses, takes a drink of his wine, starts again. “This is what you do with your other friends?”

Two thoughts settle into the sudden ache in her chest at his words. That on one hand he does, in fact, consider her a friend. She’s not just a warm body to keep the loneliness at bay. Which she’s known that for a long time, of course. They trust each other in the way that only two people who have gone through a number of life-changing and dangerous ordeals together can--why wouldn’t they be friends? The second thought is how carefully he speaks the word friends, as if solidifying the idea. As if reminding her of their relationship status. As if to say, we’re friends, and I know you want more--but I can’t. So we’re friends.

“Yep. This is what I do with my other friends. All two of them.” The joke falls flat, overshadowed by the catch in her voice. Karen finishes off her glass of wine and decides she will get out the whiskey after all. Even if he doesn’t drink it, she needs something a little stronger than just another Rosé. She starts to get up, but his hand catches her ankle and keeps her firmly in place.  

“You’re upset.” He looks at her cautiously from under a furrowed brow. His hand doesn’t lift from her skin, and it sends an unfair thrill through her. Karen’s toes curl before she can stop them, pushing against his thigh. 

“I’m not upset.”

He frowns. “And now you’re lying. Did I say somethin’?”

She doesn’t want to lie to him. She also doesn’t want to tell him the truth. There’s a nagging thought in the back of her mind that says if she’s honest with him, he’ll be scared off. He’ll decide her feelings are too much for him to handle, and then he’ll leave. Again. 

Her heart couldn’t bear it. 

Karen tugs her leg out of his grasp and sets her feet on the carpet. He sits forward, trying to capture her eyes again. “Karen,” he says gently. It’s cautious and worried, and so completely Frank in the way he grinds out her name that the words escape her before she can stop them. 

“It’s nothing, Frank. We’re friends, and that’s all, and I’m being selfish wanting more. I’ve just been--I’m not trying to--...” she glances over helplessly, but he’s giving her a look that she can only describe as stricken. She looks away quickly, desperate for a change of topic. Desperate to pull herself out of the hole that she’s dug for herself. There’s a brief moment of silence where she tries to decide what to do, outside of leaping from her fire escape, and then she hears Frank move. The cushion dips next to her. Warm fingers intertwine with her own, and then his lips are pressed to the back of her hand. 

“Shit, Karen,” Frank murmurs, exasperated. “For a smart woman, you’re bein’ pretty stupid.”

She’s still stuck on her fact that his breath is dancing over her skin, and that he’s pressed against her side, and that he still hasn’t released her. That he hasn’t gotten up and made a hasty exit. His words barely register. “What?” she asks weakly. 

“Curtis and I did a lot of talkin’ this weekend,” he says, staring to look her in the eye. The sudden change of topic throws her off balance. Before she can get a word in, he’s continued on. His thumb strokes her palm. “And a lot of it was dumb shit. We talked about his new apartment, the one he had to get after Billy shot up his old one. He says it gets a lot of sunlight. He talked about how the vet group is going and what team he thinks will win the World Series this year. It was good, and easy. We talk about some hard stuff too. We talked about Maria and the kids, and the war, and you.”

She’s not sure she likes being in the ‘hard’ category, but he seems to be edging towards a point, so Karen remains quiet. 

“And after we talked through all that other stuff, Curtis told me I was bein’ an idiot. He told me that you’re a good woman, and an even better friend. That I needed to make a decision before someone else made it for me.” He pauses, looking away. In the following silence, she digests his words and tries to keep the hope from blossoming in her chest. His hand is still warm in hers, and the earthy, woodsy smell of him fills her nose. 

He doesn’t speak long enough for Karen to finally hedge, “I’m not sure what you’re getting at, Frank.”

He turns back to her and offers a tiny, nervous smile. Not many things make a man like Frank Castle nervous, and the thought eases some of the tension from her body. She grips his fingers and holds her breath. 

“I’m tryin’ to tell you that I’m yours, if you’ll have me. I don’t want to be friends, Karen. I want you. I want more, too.”

In retrospect, her next words could have been a little more eloquent. She could have taken an extra second to think of something romantic and elated. Something that matches his earnestness. What she actually says is, “Frank Castle, you’d better quit keeping me waiting and kiss me.”

His eyes widen briefly, and then he’s grinning at her. His free hand cradles her cheek and between one breath and another he’s doing just that. Karen wont admit to herself how often she thought of this moment, but she does think about how every imagining doesn’t come close. She never could have pictured the tenderness with which he kisses her or the feeling that swells inside her. There’s no daydream in the world that compares to the softness of his lips or the sensation of his beard against her chin. She fists one hand in his coat, letting the other drift up into his hair. It’s longer, curling at his temple, and when she gently tugs he lets out a groan that makes her shiver. His tongue swipes at her bottom lip and she grants him access eagerly. The kiss devolves into wandering hands, heaving breaths, and the distinct feeling that Karen is being carefully, intimately devoured. 

After some time, Karen forces herself to pull away. Frank backs off immediately, a flash of concern in his gaze, but she gives him a small smirk, smoothing her hands over the hard planes of his chest. 

“How do you feel about me taking off the shirt now?” she asks casually. 

Her meaning sinks in quickly. His fingers grasp at the hem, dancing along the bare skin on her hips. Frank gives her a mischievous, sinfully attractive smile. “If you’re comfortable,” he repeats, and then drags his shirt up and over her head.

The buzzer on the dryer goes off in the background, but Karen has never been less inclined to attend to it than she is now. In fact, she thinks, if wearing his shirt gets this reaction, I may never do laundry again. 

It’s a nice thought, but then Frank lips meet her shoulder and she doesn’t think about laundry for a long, long time.

[spiltscribbles]

Prompt #37 for you, dear: Things you said with the tv on mute 😌📺🤫

Notes: Okay angel, you have an official IOU from me for a one shot that’s total fluff!!! I love you!!!! Thank you to the gorgeous bitch that is Bethany for making this better than it ever could’ve been <3 <3 

A Reblog is worth a thousand Stars

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Things you said with the TV was muted  |  Send Me A Prompt

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Sirius’s never been much for silence. He was brought up in the heart of London in a household always filled to the brim with guests that his parents deemed worthy enough to intermingle with the ever so illustrious Black name, and then in Hogwarts there was always the chatter of other students or the mysterious sounds ringing from the forbidden forest. Sirius’s always needed that extra layer, that muffled background noise to help ground himself, to help not get lost in his own thoughts of inadequacy or regrets over his vast array of stupid decisions that he’d make in a thoughtless spur of passion. 

If he’s really forced to think about it, the only time Sirius’s ever been comfortable blanketed in quiet was during the few times he spent his school hols in the Welsh countryside. But Sirius tries not to, think about that he means. Because then he’s back in bed, curved against Remus, one of his arms stuck underneath him while the other traced elaborate designs against his sun dappled skin. And it’s hard to reminisce on those sorts of memories, the ones that remind him about burnt toast mornings in their Camden flat and the taste of blackberries on Remus’s lips and the way they had always found solace in folding into one another after a long day out on patrols or raids of a Death Eater hideout. Well, found solace until they had suddenly, abruptly not. Before Remus had begun spending his full moons away, out on covert missions given by Dumbledore and never repeated about to Sirius. Before a thick, uncomfortable tension had clogged between them on the breakfast table that they used to stretch across to interlace their hands with one another’s. Before secrets infested every nook and crevice of their relationship, burrowing through it like deadly, invasive pests— rotting away at the one thing Sirius held with reverence and an aching sort of love that he’s only ever felt towards Remus. 

The night Remus left was only surprising in how long it took their bending to turn to a break that couldn’t stitch back up with heady kisses, and ardent declarations and tender caresses that always were that bit lighter for how afraid they’ve always been to hurt the other. It was early June and it was like every ounce of Sirius was being rinsed of resolve, like the moonlight itself  was bleeding out with the desperation and yearning and pain painted so evidently on each of their faces and what measured their movements when in relation with the other. It was in the midst of an argument, because of course it was— because that had become their only form of communication in those final fleeting weeks in-between the fucking and the cautious glances volleyed around like they were back in sixth year and first beginning to tend this tentative, little flame between them, a flame that became a supernova that swallowed Sirius whole without his permission. Remus had made a crack about Sirius needing to get him a leash if he was so convinced that he wasn’t being forthcoming about his whereabouts, and Sirius had snapped back saying that at this point he wished Remus was actually just sneaking around to shag Dearborn, and then Remus had just slumped over, lying against the wall as if it was the only thing keeping him up anymore.

He had circles as dark as the velvet night sky beneath his bright eyes, and he had such a rigid sort of posture once finally standing back up that it makes Sirius wince even remembering it, and just looking at him in such a state felt like the deepest betrayal. All Sirius knew, all he’s ever known and all he will know for the rest of his days is that he never wants to be the one to make Remus look that defeated or exhausted or just plain sad ever again. Remus had packed his few belongings in the old luggage he’s had since first year in a matter of minutes, and marched out the door without ever looking back, and Sirius hadn’t seen him until after the dust had finally settled in the wake of the end of the war. Remus is the one thing Sirius has always known he never deserved, and now— six weeks removed from the defeat of Voldemort by the hands of a still recuperating Dumbledore, Sirius knows that truth is as inherent as ever.

It was Lily who stayed up with Sirius on nights he couldn’t go back to bed in fear of being met with Remus in his dreams— her missing him in a different but just as painful way. It was Lily who told Sirius about the borderline sadistic recruitment efforts Dumbledore had Remus operating— making him relive his worst nightmare every full moon with the man who had turned him when he was no more than four years old. And it was Lily who called him and James a pair of “bloody prats,” because she had never doubted Remus for even a moment. So it only made sense when it was Lily who tipped her chin in that imperious way of hers two weeks before, and proclaimed that they’d be having a Christmas together as a family. Which meant that Sirius has just spent the last three— Merlin forsaken—  days awkwardly avoiding Remus in the most stilted and uncomfortable manners every time they ran into one another in the Potter cottage, and it meant that Frank, Alice and Neville took one of the guest rooms, while Sirius readily offered the only other one to Remus, and now he’s slumped downstairs, staring at the strange Muggle box that Lily had bought and what James, Sirius, and— and well the rat, had spent an entire afternoon toying around with— pure blooded to the core. Lily and Remus had only left them to it while going off for tea and scones at the cafe down the way, laughing at them all the while.

God does Sirius wish that golden splendor had never faded.

At the moment, the Muggle box is playing a barrage of clips of an incredibly pretty lady, one with dark hair and violet eyes. She looks like she could be a Black, honestly— it’s disarming. He’s sure he’s seen her before.  Sirius furrows his brows that bit more, surprised just how familiar she actually looks, and is shaken when he hears a soft, rasp of a voice— the most resplendent voice he’s ever heard— speaking from behind him. “Liz Taylor.”

Sirius turns around, frantic, as he takes in the sight of him, up close after so long, and Sirius stares, wide eyed and greedy, like he always is when around Remus. “Pardon?”

“The woman on the telly, that’s Liz Taylor. My mum was positively obsessed with her.” Remus’s arms are crossed leisurely against his chest as he lies against the doorway, clad in a white T-shirt and a pair of fading, plaid pajama bottoms. His bottom lip is worn dry and his hair is disheveled and sticking out on impossible angles, and he’s the most gorgeous thing Sirius has ever seen. Even now, even after so many months apart and even while he’s obviously lost in thought about his miraculous mother who had passed away from a Muggle disease their seventh year, taking a part of Remus’s heart right along with her. Even amidst all of it, Remus Lupin is the most startlingly beautiful thing Sirius has ever witnessed.

Sirius can’t stop his gawking, it’s like a warped image of that night over five months ago now, and it fills Sirius with a sort of dread he’s become far too accustomed with feeling when around Remus. “Oh, right,” Sirius says, more because he feels like it was his turn to say something, even if it is stuttering and dumb.

“You remember Christmas break of seventh year? When she made us watch her favorite film? That starred Liz Taylor.”

Sirius’s throat feels dry, can’t believe that Remus is speaking with him at all, wonders how he’ll actually be able to string two words together in any sort of coherency. “Yeah,” he clears his throat. “Yeah, yeah. The one about the bloke who wanted to marry her but got that other bird pregnant.”

Remus’s answering grin is small and mild and a bit threadbare, but it’s a Moony smile, so Sirius will devour the vision of it with hungry piety.

“I think the critics might have an issue with your distilling one of the greatest critiques of American capitalism into a tawdry love affair, but that’s the one,” Remus says as he picks up the clicker and mutes the box, perched on the other end of the couch’s armrest. And it’s so far removed, but the closest Remus has been able to stand being around Sirius in too long and it pumps him with a sort of staggering, hesitant hope that he has no right in indulging himself with— to feel the levitating, helium like sense of it pulsing in his chest and coursing through his veins.

“You know me Moons, just wanna get to the dirty bits.” He tries for broke and casts him a half smile, feels it like a punch in the gut when that doesn’t affect the detached way Remus stares at him from his perch. “But the bloke was fit at least— I recall saying that he looked a bit like you.” That, for some mad reason, makes Remus toss back his tawny head— silver in the moonlight— and laugh hysterically. “I’ve finally done it, made you go barmy.” Sirius marvels, goading but also partially meaning it.

“Of course you’d think Monty Cliff looks like me Sirius, he’s only the most tragic git in cinema history.”

“Since when are you the dramatic one Moons?”

Remus stills for a second— probably over the use of the familiar pet name, but he doesn’t say anything of it, just gives him a one armed, what can you do shrug. “’S true, he got in a nasty accident with Liz in the car when they were out drinking one night.”

“Oh— That’s rotten luck.” Sirius says, still feels a bit delirious with the fact that Remus is even speaking to him at all.

“Quite.”

“Did he die?”

“No, not fully. They were able to stitch back up his face, but he never actually recovered, was haunted by it really. I guess folks used to say that there was the beautiful before, and then the monstrous after, scars and all. So he spent the next decade drinking himself to death.”

Sirius’s insides go cold, flashes of Remus’s own habits bubbling to the forefront of his mind, but he sweeps it away and only nods, thinks he understands the shifty way Remus is behaving now, considering the obvious parallel to his own accident as a lad and how the Wizarding world has regarded him ever since.

“That’s shit Remus.”

He hums, noncommittal as he studies a point over Sirius’s shoulder. “They still call it Hollywood’s longest suicide.”

Sirius suddenly feels sick to his stomach, knows that if this was even just half a year ago, he’d be gathering Remus in his arms now and kissing away the lines melting into his face, and telling him in a gargled repetition that he loves him and he loves him and he’s always loved him. He’d tell Remus how damn beautiful he is and how bright and brilliant and remarkable of a person he is. And Sirius would fall asleep with Remus’s head resting on his chest and the blanket pooling around their hips and it would feel splendid just for that slice of eternity.

But this isn’t half a year ago. This is now, and now is composed of them broken up and awkward and left them unable to even hold each others gazes for longer than a few seconds at a time, lest the hurt becomes unbearable.

“He sounds like someone I’d get a pint with If I’m being honest.” 

That miraculously seems like the right thing to have said because Remus smiles softly as he stands up. “Sure you two would’ve had a marvelous time, his boyfriends called’m a miraculous lay.”

Sirius laughs, loud and abrupt and a bit like a bark. “Come off it.”

“Poor Liz, she was mad over the shirt lifter.” Remus pulls a face and sticks his tongue out, cheeky in a way Sirius has missed beyond words. “But never mind the history lesson, I just came down for a glass of water, don’t let me disturb your telly watching.”

“You didn’t!” Sirius says hurriedly, forcing himself not to actually leap up and corner him. “I mean—“ he coughs, tries evening out his heartbeat.  “You’re never a bother Remus, you know that. You know I’d rather talk to you than just about anything else,” the silent, save for fucking you, doesn’t have to be said, but Sirius reckons Remus caught the implication if the slight flush to his ears is anything to go by.

“Right, well I should still get back to bed. Tomorrow’s actual Christmas Eve and Lily’s practically branded the damn schedule onto my hand.” Remus turns to the kitchen, and it’s all too much like before, but Sirius won’t let him— can’t let him— go off and leave him behind. If there is one inarguable truth in Sirius’s life, it’s that he loves Remus John Lupin more than all the stars in all the damned galaxies combined, and losing faith in that has only ever caused him the worst sort of pain. So he doesn’t let him go, flings himself forwards and encircles one of Remus’s bony wrists with a loose hand, can practically hear his pulse pounding in his ears.

“Wh— Sirius—“

“Are we ever going to be alright again,” Sirius asks outright, probably the stupidest thing he’s ever done but he doesn’t care, is sick of feeling so damn lost and wrong footed and lonesome without him. 

Remus slowly pivots back around, lips set in a firm frown and brows beginning to knit. “What do you mean.”

“Don’t Remus, please, just don’t. If it’s no then please just put me out my misery. I can’t do this sodding in-between shite, this purgatory of nothing and everything. I just can’t.”

The silence that drapes over them seizes with a tension Sirius hadn’t felt since the night Remus had left, and it probably doesn’t bode well, but Sirius doesn’t care, wants an  answer damn it.

Remus only stares at him, measured and noncommittal and with an almost aloofness that Sirius had successfully penetrated by the end of their first term in Hogwarts. It’s really something awful being on the other side once more.  “You thought I was the spy.” He says in a deadpan, void of any warmth, and cleared of even the Welsh lilt to his words that always shone through when he was relaxed, and wasn’t afraid of being cast off as just some country boy.  He sounds methodical, by rote. He sounds like he doesn’t dare allow any emotions to bleed through because he’s afraid what Sirius would do with them, and that realization, above anything else, is what punches him right in the gut.

“I thought everyone was the spy,” he tells him, isn’t above from graveling at this point. “Hell I thought I was the bloody spy for a moment there! Under the imperius curse, or was obliviated or—“

“That’s different Sirius,” Remus interrupts, seething, and tearing his wrist away from Sirius’s light grasp. “Think about why you would presume me to be working for the dark side over Peter!”

Sirius flushes, is getting angry now, hating that Remus wouldn’t even hear him out. “Because you were in the top of the class, and that fucking rat barely knew how to transfigure  a throw pillow to a damn porcupine!”

Remus’s face— a face Sirius knows better than the back of his own hand— twists up in derision, lips curled and nose wrinkled and pinning Sirius with a one eyed squint. It’s completely inappropriate timing, but Sirius wishes he could show Remus just how thoroughly he pays reverence to him and that face. “Well lucky him he was born a pure blood.”

And that, that snide remark is what makes Sirius jolt back, as if he’s been slapped open handed right across the face. Like the one and only time his mother had done so when she caught him and Regulus dressing up in her heels and jewels and lipsticks when he was seven years old. This, this insinuation by Remus is just as striking and probably ten times as painful. “Don’t. Don’t bring blood politics into this Remus. You know I don’t give a buggering fuck about any of that trite.”

“Then what?” Remus almost yells now, face reddening and stepping close enough to Sirius that he has to tilt his head back just so, just enough so that they’re eyes are boring into one another properly once more. “Was it the fact I’m a fucking werewolf? Huh?” He grabs for Sirius’s front, hands knotted in the material of his shirt, and careful not to touch him. It’s a familiar action when Sirius thinks back to the final couple months of their relationship, Remus had always just grabbed onto Sirius’s clothes— wrinkling his jackets and Henleys whenever they kissed goodbye. Sirius had ultimately thought it was because of the guilt eating up inside for his turncoating ways, but now recognizes it for what it was and what it is. He sees that it’s Remus trying to grapple for something, anything. It’s Remus trying to ground himself by touch, and by Sirius, to feel still amidst all the chaos. 

Sirius puts his larger hands against Remus’s wrists once more, doesn’t let him drop his gaze. “Fuck you Remus.”

“Is that it? You got sick of fucking a halfbreed? Figured that if I was just like the lot who actually were enthralled by Grayback that it’d be fine if you could end it.”

“Shut the fuck up!“

“Just say it! Say you didn’t trust me because I’m a werewolf and you believe that propaganda that we’re some sorta inherently dark creatures. Tell me you gave up on me because of that. Just give me an answer Sirius!”

And it’s like Sirius can’t breathe, doesn’t know where to begin his rant. Whether he should shout at Remus for being a self loathing prat, or shout at Remus for thinking so low of him, or maybe shout at Remus for trying to pretend as if he wasn’t the one who gave up on them first. In the end, he does none of that. 

It’s pure instinct when Sirius plunges forwards and crashes his lips against Remus’s own, trying to infuse the love and adoration and acceptance he knows Remus has never allowed himself to truly feel, and is relieved when his lead-like insides lighten just a fraction when Remus opens his mouth and grabs for Sirius’s face, and kisses him that much deeper. His tongue plunging into Sirius’s open mouth and the familiar slide is so achingly welcome Sirius swears he could fall over in gratitude, frantically palms up and down Remus’s lightly muscled back for purchase, and ultimately just gives up and drags him to the sofa, doesn’t let their lips separate for more than a breath at a time.

“I love you, I never stopped loving you Moons,” Sirius tells him as he practically rips Remus’s shirt as he pulls it off and Remus collapses over him, now straddling Sirius’s lap and kissing a path across his jaw. “Don’t ever think otherwise.”

Remus pulls away, only for a moment, but it’s enough to see the watery gleam to his eyes and the doubt that passes across his face. Though Remus doesn’t let him look for too long, plunges back forwards to kiss him in a cacophony of lips, and teeth, and spit. His cold hands glide against Sirius’s abs beneath his own t-shirt, and Sirius is practically arching up with wanton intent. God he’s missed this, missed Remus and the way they fall against one another, and missed the way they’ve always just fit so innately.

“I—I still love you too Pads,” he says against Sirius’s neck, practically shaking but it’s enough to clear Sirius of all his worries and all his doubt. If there’s anything that couldn’t erode, its the foundation they built with one another and that’s enough, maybe that’s all they need to begin healing once more. Sirius knows that there’s countless conversations and apologies and that they’ll need to take this one step at a time, but here, now. This gives him hope that Remus is just as willing to work on it as he is, and that’s all Sirius needs to know.

He slides a hand up Remus’s thigh and dips a thumb into his waistband, asking for permission, and almost laughing at how eager Remus is to the question, eyes fluttering shut prettily as Sirius slips a hand into his front, cheeks blazing when he realizes Remus wasn’t even wearing any pants. 

“Moony,” he moans, tossing his dark head against the sofa and praying for strength from fucking Merlin himself. 

Remus actually does laugh, kisses the juncture of Sirius’s neck and shoulder before he starts rocking back and forth, against Sirius’s rapidly hardening cock, and Sirius is already so pent up and hungry for this that he knows he’s not going to last long.

“Bloody slag.”

“Pot calling the kettle black—“ Remus’s eyes go blown suddenly, absolutely going mental at the pun and Sirius can’t believe the love of his life is such a damn wanker. 

“Oy, I’ll show you what this kettle can do,” Sirius snaps, playful as he flips their positions so that Remus is lying beneath him, canting forwards when Sirius unceremoniously grabs his cock and begins a slow, and steady stroke, absolutely fucking beaming at the small, cut off gasps and muffled whimpers Remus lets out. They should probably worry over someone walking downstairs for a midnight snack or smoke or something, but Sirius can’t be fucked to care, not with the gloriously golden sight of Remus Lupin flat out beneath him and panting and how Sirius knows precisely how to get him to whimper out in that particularly stunning way.

“Sadistic— Hah— Sadistic bastard,” Remus groans as Sirius begins to thumb at the tip and uses the pre-come to slide faster up and down his shaft, his own hips rocking faster against Remus’s leg to catch at the sensation.

“No arguments here,” Sirius whispers, dipping back down to kiss him as he speeds up the stroking, and gets some of his own friction as he rubs against Remus’s thigh in quick and graceless thrusts and it’s only a moment more before Remus is groaning out with his orgasm and another few thrusts of Sirius’s own hips  after that when Sirius joins him, practically collapsing over his body once he does.

“Oof, get off me you prick.”

“Too tired Moons.”

“You’re heavy.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

Remus laughs and Sirius wishes he could be wrapped up in the sound for the next eon to come. For now, he only licks off the come still sticking to his hand, and Remus wrinkles his nose in acute disapproval, but then he kisses him deep and thorough. So Sirius doesn’t take it to heart. 

Eventually they adjust themselves so that they’re each lying on their sides and peering at one another, gentle but with more stability than they’ve felt for nearly a year now. It feels like they’ve come to some sorta equilibrium about where they go from here, and it’s so bloody miraculous. It’s like their lives have finally been unpaused from the war and they have a thousand, glimmering memories waiting to be had. A future painted with a house of their own, and visiting James and Lily and the Sprog every night for supper, and maybe even having one of their own. A future Sirius lost hope in while they were apart but is now suddenly and painfully the brightest spot in Sirius’s world. 

[silvysartfulness]

Omg I saw that you used to write for the assassin’s creed fandom and honestly what a throwback 😭 are they on livejournal?

Aahhh, this is the part where I have to admit, I don't think I ever put any of those drabbles online! It was more a fun thing me and wife used to do, writing very very short 5 minute one-shots based on single word-prompts.

Oh, wait! Apparently I actually still have them, in an old folder of mine! Will post under a cut. These are AC 1-3-brotherhood, primarily focused on the latter.

La Volpe/Cesare post the fall of the Borgia was my main rarepair ship in that fandom, so that's the main (if occasionally only implied) focus for a lot of these. (CW some dubcon/non-con under the cut, so be warned.) 😊

1 Unwillingness

It goes against everything he is, a greater challenge than any battlefield taken on. Snarling, eyes blazing his defiance, Cesare submits for now.

2 Memento

”Something to remember me by,” murmurs Volpe softly against the sensitive skin of his neck, and it's all Cesare can do not to yelp as those vicious teeth leave a bleeding gash in his ear.

3 Baseline

He still doesn't trust Machiavelli, Volpe muses, and it's equally clear Machiavelli doesn't trust him. Perhaps their shared love of secrecy is the one dependent thing about their relationship.

4 Sniper

He has shot guards from rooftops, towers, horseback, beams and the treacherous crumbling tops of ancient stone pillars. So why was it, muses Ezio afterward, that he hadn't even thought of pulling crossbow or gun out as his sworn enemies held their short council in the courtyard a few measly yards below his feet?

5 Birthplace

It is in Masyaf the order of Assassins was born into what it is now. Searching for answers Ezio sets out on the longest journey of his life, back to the beginning of all.

6 Denunciation

It is hard to remember what it was like to have faith, Cesare thinks, but easy to remember when it was lost. What God could ever work through the instrument that was Alexander VI, his father?

7 Distaste

”Volpe, you didn't!” Ezio exclaims, his face a mask of distaste. Volpe smirks.

”Oh, it was not at all bad. Cesare is well trained.”

Ezio shudders. ”That is exactly what bothers me!”

8 Elimination

Constantly, frustratingly one step behind, it is little Cesare can do as his allies are meticulously taken out by the Assassins one by one. And yet it is not until the last of those on his side willingly turn their backs on him that he realizes this battle is lost.

9 Bluntness

”You can do as I say,” says the master thief matter-of-factly, turning the vial of antidote over in his spindly fingers, ”or you can spend the night dying slowly while vomiting your innards all over the floor. The choice is yours.”

Pale with fury Cesare chooses to live.

10 Turf

The Assassins had been myth, legend, bed-time stories to frighten a young boy already afraid of the dark. But as they dealt an all but deadly blow to his father inside the Vatican itself, Cesare grimly declares war. Roma is his city, and all who oppose his rule must be swiftly and mercilessly dealt with.

11 Assassination

He burns for the ideals, fights the fight with passion and utter devotion. But when Shaun's shaking hands lower the suddenly impossibly heavy gun he knows something he'dnever even thought about (Innocence? Compassion? Humanity?) has perished as surely as that very first body at his feet.

12 Apprentice

He remembers a gangly youth skidding across slippery roof tiles, trying so hard to keep up and even harder to hide his inability to do so. La Volpe silently studies Il Mentore and considers he's no longer sure who would lead the way across the rooftops.

13 Debris

Ezio swears as the ceiling collapses over the bed he shared with Caterina until moments ago – his armor and weapons are buried in the rubble and will be hard to replace. He does not yet know they will be the least of his losses this day.

14 Scolding

Altaïr has never been one to accept blame or criticism for his actions, but something about the way Malik's not-there left arm twitches as to shake a not-there fist in his face as the man speaks makes him look away in hidden shame.

15 Torrent

The rain pours down over the city, making roofs and cobblestones alike wet and slippery. Volpe tugs his collar tighter around his shoulders against the biting cold and idly contemplates if a trip to the Castello would be worth the trouble.

16 Anchor

He cheats and steals and tells honeyed lies with the ease of a snake. But his eyes can be oceans and his touch velvet – sometimes Ezio wonders if his always restless, inspiration-ridden friend keeps Salai around just to remember what it's like to be human.

17 Truce

”It would be nice,” says Machiavelli evenly, ”if you would not so readily name yourself judge, jury and executioner the next time you fall victim to unfounded suspicion.”

”Fine,” mutters Volpe, frowning. ”It would be niceif you were not so secretive. And stop trying to steal my spies. Get your own.”

”Fine,” Machiavelli replies with a minute smirk.

Fellowship is knowing just when your brother-in-arms is lying.

18 Nook

There are many unknown and unseen hiding places among the rooftops of Florence. On his back, hair plastered against his face and hot breath against his ear, Giovanni concludes it's very handy that La Volpe always knows to find one when you need it.

19 Orgy

These parties are more to his father's tastes than his his, Cesare firmly tells himself, perhaps letting his eyes linger thoughtfully on the multitude of courtesans a moment longer than intended. Then a familiar slender hand grazes his thigh and he is reminded that the only person even close to matching his own schemes, cunning and skill is the woman on the throne next to his.

20 Scoff

”I spend all my time in the Animus,” Desmond frowns, ”Lucy's keeping an eye on Abstergo and Rebecca... hacks and stuff. What do youdo, really? Anyone could use, what, Google and Wikipedia?”

Shaun grins or at least bares his teeth.

”You mean Templar Central One and Two? No, it's called obtaining knowledge, Desmond - sifted like little gold nuggets of fact from the vast sands of ignorance you're so fond of burying your head in. Google can't help you there, I'm afraid.”

21 Scolding

At the time, Ezio always figured Giovanni's constant nagging and pleading with him to stay out of trouble was only the worrying of an overprotective father. Only later was he taught discretion was part of the ancient Assassin's creed. He never got very good at it, even so.

22 Bonfire

No-one is entirely sure why Julius II has tempered justice with mercy for now and opted for his enemy's imprisonment rather than death sentence. As far as la Volpe is concerned, the way Cesare goes pale whenever the topic is brought up is at least good for entertainment.

23 Nakedness

Being exposed holds no particular shame for him, but the walls and floor are freezing to the touch, draining precious warmth from his aching body. Now would be a prudent time for an accursed thief to show up with a blanket to bargain for.

24 Arbiter

It was funny, Machiavelli drily noted in his notebook, how God and Divine Justice so often were on the side of the biggest army with the sharpest swords.

25 Purgatory

The land burns, smoke choking the sky and tinting the sun a sickly shade of blood. It is with a cold and unfamiliar sense of foreboding Cesare hurries through the flames toward the towering walls of the fortress to escape this hell on earth – one way or another.

26 Fingernail

Ezio has more than his fair share of scars adorning his hardened body, some remembered more fondly than others. He would never dream to ask Caterina to trim her nails, or use them just a touch more carefully.

27 Slavery

The Creed dictates freedom of thought, and in his reckless youth Altaïr would use it as justification for any rash impulse. But the older he grows, the more he comes to realize freedom and all its crushing responsibility can be the harshest master of all.

28 Carnivore

When confronted on his nasty habit of biting, Volpe only grins and quips something about foxes and their nature. Cesare is tempted to snap he's often seen dirty foxes prowling the back streets for garbage, but can see where Volpe would go with that, and so holds his tongue.

29 Bluntness

Ezio is too flustered after his mother's blunt request he find other outlets than vaginas to realize the enthusiastic young artist at his side seems more than eager to offer a few suggestions on the particular subject.

30 Vow

He will live, Cesare vows. He will live, he will regain his freedom, his power and his army. At any cost. And then they will. All. Pay.

31 Blending

It was simply not fair, thought Machiavelli, that no matter how solid your acting, no matter how meticulousyour disguise, Volpe would immediately spot you in a crowd and grin at you. Clearly spying on the sly old fox called for more cunning means, he conceded as he made his way to the Rosa to shamelessly bribe Claudia for information.

32 Misconduct

“Not that we are in any particular hurry to the Castello,” Orsini says, the knuckles of his war-gauntlet quite pleasantly buried in Cesare's face, “but things would just be easier all around if you would stop squirming and came quietly.”

33 Ultimatum

“If you don't stop hogging my mp3-player,” Rebecca whispers softly in Shaun's ear, “I'll tell Lucy exactly whatyou and Desmond used her yoghurts for last night.”

34 Takeover

“Stop!” Lucrezia commands as the soldiers feed the paintings to the fire – already the image of a swan is crackling and fading to black amongst the flames. Such a waste of beauty. She hasn't even realized Cesare is standing behind her, fierce and bloodied after the battle, until he speaks.

“You like them?”

She nods, and he touches her cheek with a smile, careful not to stain her hair.

“Then they are yours. A memento of the day the Assassini fell.”

35 Afterlife

“I blame you for this,” says Cesare flatly as the imps re-heat the lake of boiling tar. Again. “There is no God, you said. No heaven and no hell, you said. Stupid old bastard.”

Rodrigo mutters something about Hell being other people, but will have to concede that in this trifling matter, yes, he was mistaken.

36 Distaste

He would rather be hated than forgotten, Cesare sullenly thinks, rubbing his stiff hands for warmth. Bony, filthy, with the matted long hair of a hermit falling into his face, he has to settle for the guards' contempt. At least it's better than pity.

37 Slavery

He isn't really paid, Leonardo thinks, merely kept alive, yes. Not really compensated as such. And so the construction of the intricate war-machines is really on the consciences of his masters, not his. Sting of guilt quenched he returns to the blueprints with renewed fevered enthusiasm.

38 Probation

“What's the catch”, asks Cesare with deepest suspicion.

“No catch,” Volpe assures, looking innocent. “Just a reward for your recent good behaviour. Keep it up and there may a meal and a hot bath in it for you, too.”

Cesare does not for a moment believe they are just going out 'to stretch their legs', but a meal does sound inviting. He follows.

39 Adversity

Ezio strongly disapproved of the idea of his little sister taking over the Rosa in Fiore, and he frankly can't say whether he is more disappointed or proud when it flourishes under her care.

40 Bluntness

“You are a thief,” Machiavelli growls, piqued into a rare display of anger. “A liar and a cheat and an honourless thief!”

Volpe grins.

“All those things. And I'm still better than you.”

41 Scheming

Ezio gave the Apple to Mario, who had it stolen by Cesare, who gave it to Leonardo, who found it plucked out of his helpless hands by the Pope and his daughter. He ponders life was easier when he was just a painter. The Apple is a thing of awe, but the intrigues in its wake make his head hurt.

42 Favorite

It wasn't that Cesare particularly hated his older brother. It was just that while he no longer childishly sought his father's approval, the position as the Pope's favorite son came with several practical perks. Unfortunately for Juan, that meant he simply had to go.

43 Truce

When things are civilized, they can be bearable, almost even pleasant. The food is good, the wine plentiful, and Volpe's skilled fingers all but gentle. An unspoken truce, no matter how temporary. But neither man ever forgets the truth, which is war.

44 Scour

They answer to no-one, self-proclaimed executioners beyond all law. Too much blood on their hands now. Just before sunrise Cesare gives the command to attack. The cleansing of Monteriggioni has begun.

45 Extrovert

To hold his own council and play his cards close to his heart has always been his way, and he knowshe is a master at his game. And yet, Machiavelli can grudgingly admit to himself, it isn't until the boisterous chaos in human guise that is Ezio bursts in on the Roman scene that he begins to see how they will win this war.

46 Protagonist

“I will avenge the cowardly, treacherous plot against my father,” he thinks. “I will root out all those involved, every single one, and I will kill them and all they stand for.”

No-one ever sets out to be a hero, only to do what is right.

For Cesare, the path ahead is clear.

47 Willpower

It is never easy. Every time Altaïr visits his (his!) bureau in Jerusalem, Malik has to struggle with himself not to slay the man in his sleep. On many a moonlit night, only a lifetime of discipline stays the blade in his white-knuckled hand.

But strangely, it does get easier over time.

48 Esacalation

At first it had been mere proof of his ability to go anywhere in Roma as well he pleased, the taunting and impotent rage in response a given bonus. After some time, forced still-furious intimacy gained through blackmail had appeared a logical step. Then force turned out redundant. As Cesare clings to him, nails biting into his arms and teeth bared with need, Volpe admits to himself he would never have suspected the caged Borgia would so willingly use him to sate his desires – nor the other way around.

49 Torrent

Raw grief fades over time, a broken heart healed into a dull ache. The thing that keeps Claudia from sleeping at night is not all she has lost, but her screaming frustration at not being able to take her fate, and that of those responsible, into her own hands.

50 Danger

The peaceful life he had envisioned just the evening before will have to wait, Ezio grimly decides, pressing a hand to his wounded shoulder and focusing on not falling off his horse. And despite the shock, grief and pain, it somehow feels right. He has lived this life so long, he isn't sure he remembers how not to.

51 Splattering

Leonardo likes to buy birds at the market and set them free, watching with dreaming eyes as they take to the endless sky. Once, Ezio surprises his friend with twenty white doves. Much belatedly he wishes he'd remembered that stressed pigeons prefer to lighten their load before taking off.

52 Ramification

“It is time you take responsibility for your actions,” Rodrigo snarls, and Cesare struggles with the impulse to scream, childishly, “But father, younever did!”

53 Concession

“I'm not sure we should...”

Lover and Thief, silhouettes in the dark, alone. A light touch.

“Come now. It will be good, I promise.”

“But, what if...”

“Ssh. Are we not both Assassins? Everything is permitted.”

His honed thief's nerves tingling with foreboding warnings, La Volpe allows Claudia to persuade him in the end, knowing Ezio will probably kill him, and that it will no doubt be worth it.

54 Leer

You can't even seehis face in the shadows beneath the cowl. And yet, Volpe just standing there outside the bars, nonchalantly leaning one hand against the wall, makes Cesare want to scream. Or punch him hard. Preferably both.

55 Whisper

Ezio reflects that there are few other voices he would instantly recognize by just a short, urgent uttering of his name. His hesitation to turn around stems not from uncertainty, but the childish wish to postpone the trial of his oldest friend's rumored treason just a few moments longer.

56 Absurdity

At first Ezio had felt confused, then worried and finally terrified. But as they've fled Florence and the man introducing himself as uncle Mario tells him that his family belongs to an ancient clan of legendary assassins, relief washes over him. Finally is clear it has all been an insane dream. He can't wait to wake up.

57 Experimentation

Leonardo da Vinci is a true genius, his brilliant mind always seeing the world through a lens of wonder. Nothing escapes his never-sated curiosity – but that a small poseable wooden mannequin could be used like that? Cesare is a man not easily impressed, but will have to admit the artist rarely fails to amaze.

58 Farewell

It is with uncharacteristic kindness Volpe kisses him, between shared gasps for air after their final tryst. A last goodbye before the approaching dawn will see Cesare on his way to exile in Spain.

”Growing sentimental, old fox?” the younger man scoffs at him. ”No need. I shall return soon enough, and repaint the walls of Roma with Assassin blood.”

Volpe just smiles. He has already helped Ezio prepare his own journey and knows with certainty that Cesare will never again return to Rome.

59 Turf

”Maybe Giovanni could get away with doing paperwork all day over in Florence,” Mario says, and his tone clearly states what he thinks about his brother's choice. ”But arround here we train Assassins, not accountants or delivery boys.”

Ezio's body has never ached as much in his life as it does after his first day of training with his uncle.

60 Smoothness

When she smiles her deep red lips are like tantalizing rose petals, framed by sun-ray golden hair. She is smooth, flawless, perfect. But every rose has its thorns, and Lucrezia's are laden with poison.

61 Kneeling

Every fiber of Ezio's body strains desperately to regain control as he jerks like a puppet on golden strings of light.

”You are lucky,” breathes Rodrigo in a low, husky growls, leaning hard on the staff after the battle, ”So verylucky, little Assassin, that I am in a hurry.”

As the dagger sinks into his guts, Ezio briefly thinks that indeed, it could have been so much worse.

62 Purgatory

The imps don't know whether to feel amused or put out that the screaming, flailing argument between father and son has by now escalated to the point they don't even seem to register the lake of boiling tar anymore. A bit of respect for good solid workmanship, is that too much to ask?

63 Lick

It has to be said in favour of Machiavelli's assassin reflexes that the unexpected lick at his ear out of the dark earns Volpe neither a jump or a shriek but a rapid fist to the nose.

Only half an hour later, safely home in his bedroom, does Niccolo allow himself to contemplate what might have otherwise transpired.

64 Bonfire

It is a sad thing, reflects Ezio in hindsight, older, wiser, that compared to all the priceless art and knowledge fed to fire during Savonarola's mad reign of Florence, the mere loss of a human life that ended it is remembered with little sense of loss or revulsion.

65 Last

After Mario's death, Ezio has felt the weight of being the last Auditore Assassin ever heavier on his shoulders. But as he watches Claudia fearlessly take her leap of faith, he wonders how he could ever have been blind enough to think himself alone.

66 Well

The guards in hot pursuit yell and stab at wells, haystacks and dark alleyways. From his perch on a rooftop Ezio smiles. He always did prefer to take to the sky.

67 Wrongdoer

As his support falters and the opposition grows ever bolder, Cesare becomes increasingly frustrated with their attacks and accusations. He would prefer to answer only for his own sins, not those of his dead father.

68 Deliberate

It really is getting unnerving, decides Machiavelli, the way Volpe has taken up the habit of commenting on his every observation with a frosty ”Indeed” or ”Yes, quitethe coincidence”. He wishes he could believe the man isn't doing it on purpose.

69 Counter

When he first arrives in Jerusalem, Altaïr can't quite shake the feeling that the only thing between him and certain death is a rather narrow, map-strewn desk.

70 Bribe

Cesare has always been good at striking a profitable bargain. Unfortunately Borgia as a currency is bitterly deflated, and these days he often have to sell himself too cheap for comfort. Even though it isa warm, snug blanket.

71 Chess

Cesare knows he is a brilliant strategist – not so much because of the expected praise from his subordinates as from the satisfactory number of pins currently adorning his map of Italy. He would like to believe himself modest in this, careful not allow hubris to cheat him of a victory. And yet he never knows whether to frown or laugh helplessly as the absent-minded artist all but appologetically check-mates his king time and time and time again.

72 Feel

Leonardo never knows how to feel when Cesare enters the room. At first he is apprehensive, but as weeks turn into months and he realizes he's not only allowed but encouraged to dream up grander designs than ever before he is thrilled.

In the end, seeing the Assassins' plans put into motion long before Cesare even knows the final battle has begun, he can only avert his eyes in regret.

73 Mister

”Outside the kingdom of God is the realm of men,” Salai says, leaning just an inch too close. ”You worship there, Messere?”

Only years of training his clueless look on Leonardo helps Ezio keep a straight face as he blankly waves for the boy to follow him.

74 Fine

There are simply too many guards around for a discreet kill, so Ezio grudlingly counts the florins and hands them over. How was heto know he wasn't allowed to park his horse there? Time to liberate another stable from its Borgia-tower shadow, he decides. Burning them all down is easier than keeping track of territories anyway.

75 Dog

If La Volpe is the fox and Ezio the bird of prey, Pantasilea ponders, then Bartolomeo reminds her of a large, lumbering dog. Faithful and loyal unto death, but with a booming bark and a vicious bite for those who threaten those dear to him.

76 Forgotten

When Volpe appears he is the first person Cesare has seen in days. He greets the thief with his usual brazen curses, careful not to let any trace of relief shine through. Of all things he is most afraid to be left alone to die; not slain out of hatred or need, but simply ignored and forgotten.

77 Changed

Had Ezio been the kind of man to think upon such things, he might have noticed the Cesare facing him atop the towering walls is not the self-assured young general he met a handful years previous in Roma. Tired-looking and hunched over he looks defeated even before the battle has begun. But Ezio is here for one single purpose alone, and has never been the kind of man to think of such things anyway.

78 Gondola

Antonio assures Leonardo that only from an extensive tour with his private gondola will the artist truly get to know his new home town. As it happens, a rocky two-hour boat ride later, Leonardo still hasn't really seen much of the city. But that's quite alright, as he happily agrees to repeat the endeavour soon again.

79 Casino

It never hurts to try to win Fortuna's favour when gambling is one of your favorite pastimes, Salai knows, but in this particular case divine intervention is quite a bit closer at hand. As long as you have La Volpe's favor, the dice at the Sleeping Fox will never let you down.

80 Soup

The first bowl of watery gruel ends up thrown in the guard's face with enough force to break his nose. The next morning the second splinters against the wall. Nearly a week passes before he forces himself to eat the fifth, to preserve his strength.

Cesare closes his eyes as he quickly raises the bowl to his face to wolf down the hundredth, before the reflection in the dull surface can show him what he has become.

81 Carrot

”Tell you what,” murmurs Volpe in the starving prisoner's ear, dangling the vegetable in front of his face, ”If you give me a good enough show I'll even let you keep it for supper when you're done.”

82 Madame

Volpe has to admit himself impressed – Claudia is shrewd, ruthless and horrifyingly practical, and stillmanages to be praised a good businesswoman rather than cursed a thief.

83 Kilt

Yes, Ezio decides as he flexes his body inside the unfamiliar weight of Romulus' armour, there is definitely a draft around his nether regions. Whatever the old Romans may have thought, a skirt of leather belts does notconstitute proper clothing.

After some swearing and creative arranging of his spare cloak he considers it may well look even moreof a skirt, but at least this cut preserves his manly dignity when he jumps.

84 Theft

He has stolen valuables, information, people and lives. La Volpe draws in a deep breath as he surveys Roma in the first light of morning, then exhales in satisfaction. She is the greatest city in the world, and she is all his for the taking.