#canon divergent ficlets

[ellecdc]

Come Back, Be Here

Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 8k words

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

CW: mentions of past abuse/torture, amnesia, healing/blood and injury (no one is injured during this story), mention of Bellatrix's cursed knife (same injury Hermione received, sorry), angst, hurt/comfort, use of Y/N

Synopsis: After sacrificing yourself to save your friend and Order partner James months before, you're found on the brink of death. How will Sirius react when he finally gets his love back, but you don't seem to recognize any of them? (concept inspired by Recognition by aeaean__bliss on ao3)

James hated this – he hated the paranoia, he hated worrying, he hated the idea that taking one step outside of the threshold may be the last time he ever sees his wife and son. He had taken ‘one last look’ at too many people in his life, and he was exhausted.

         But he was also trained for this.

Pads had been growing more and more paranoid as the war waged on – with all the loss, the targeted attacks of Order members and the growing speculation of a spy amongst them; he begged Lily and James to change Peter to the secret keeper. “I’ll be the Death Eaters first thought, Prongs - he’s the less obvious choice.” It had been months since James had seen Sirius so desperate and passionate, so he agreed. Peter’s schedule with the Ministry had been taking up a lot of his time, but he said that the next Order meeting they would do the trade.

Until then, Sirius made sure Lily and James had a contingency plan.

“If anything fuckey happens, you have to promise me you’ll leave, no questions asked. Okay?” Sirius begged. “Have a go-bag packed for you both and Harry at the ready. If you feel any weakening of the wards – you leave.”

So, something fuckey happened. Lily got herself and Harry dressed for the rain, their bags by the back door ready to make a run for it, and James stood at the front door with his invisibility cloak pulled over him and wand at the ready.

The wards had chimed – signifying someone was here – but they were still standing; this meant Sirius was fine. Wards wobbled all the time – sometimes muggles wandered too closely to them without realizing – but the concerning part was the snap of apparition they heard before the wards had alerted them.

“It could be Moony, or Wormtail.” Lily said, mostly trying to convince herself that everything was fine.

James smiled at his wife like this might be the last time he ever did so. “Very true. I’ll be back in a mo’, okay? If anything happens, you guys go. I’ll find you.” He said.

Lily gave him a watery smile.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

James stepped out into the torrential downpour. Britain wasn’t always known for its reliable weather, but even James was baffled by the sudden late-October thunderstorm. As tempted as he was to cast a weather repelling charm around him, he didn’t want to give away his location by having water bouncing away from his invisible figure, so he allowed himself to get increasingly soaked as he squinted into the night, looking for any signs of who alerted their wards.

He made it to the front gate – where he could see the end of the wards and cast a quick revelio.

Nothing.

“Moony?” He whispered, knowing the lycanthrope would hear him over the heavy rain.

“Pete?” He asked a little louder after receiving no answer.

He waited for a few more moments, cast one more revelio, and moved to the back of the house when he picked up nothing.

Godric’s Hollow is a wizarding community as well, he reminded himself, maybe someone just unknowingly apparated too close to the property.

He cast another revelio in the backyard and his heart leapt into his throat when he saw movement in the woods. “Buggering fuck!” He whisper-shouted, but embarrassingly realized he was watching the figure of a cat running away into the forest.

“Well, that’s not what I heard apparating here, now is it?” He muttered under his breath. He was beginning to suspect they heard some ignorant witch or wizard who miscalculated their apparation as he finished surveying the backyard.

Suddenly, he spotted a figure; it appeared unmoving, and was in a heap on the ground directly outside the ward line. James looked around, casting another revelio – nothing. The only thing he’s found is the slumped figure at the ward line.

James was torn – does he check what it is? What if it’s a person? Should he see if they are okay? Should he go inside and tell Lily that it’s fine before he checks on the figure? Would they still be waiting outside when he came back out? Is this a trap?

His musings were interrupted as the figure started choking.

“Merlin, I’m going to die of a bleeding heart.” James muttered as he made his way to the figure. He cast one more revelio on his way to confirm no one else was around waiting to ambush him.

Against his better judgment - knowing Sirius would have him by the bollocks for this later - he stepped outside of the wards, grabbed the figure and hauled the body back over the ward line. At least now I only have to be worried about dying at the hands of this individual half dead wix.

The body was small – James would assume it was a student from Hogwarts if it weren’t for the fact that they clearly apparated here and all students would be in school. Their cloak appeared far too large for their body and was completely soaked through due to the rain.

The figure began coughing again, and James heard gurgling sounds.

He ripped the hood off the figure and gasped.

Pale – so sickly pale – bruised black and blue and currently coughing up blood was you. Vixen! The witch, friend, fellow animagus and therefore honorary Marauder and his personal mission partner whom James last saw dying in the rubble of your last stake-out location.

“Oh Merlin, OH MERLIN.” James shouted as he whipped off the invisibility cloak and threw it over his shoulder.

He turned his attention back to you as you continued to sputter. He carefully turned you onto your side so you could spit the blood out of your mouth, which caused you to throw up.

“Okay, alright, come on Vix. Let’s get you inside. You’re okay, come on.” James muttered, mostly as a mantra to himself. He felt the adrenaline rushing through his body and tried to ignore the ringing in his ears.

He lifted you up into his arms; one arm supporting your knees whilst the other supported your shoulders. You hung from his grasp like a corpse.

“Stay with me, Vix. Stay with me. You’re going to be okay.” He continued as he got to the door.

He kicked the back door with his foot before cursing and remembering their code. He paused; three quick kicks, one kick, two quick kicks. “Lily! It’s clear, open up!”

Lily set Harry in his playpen and was quick to unlock the door. “Thank Merlin, I - oh!” She quickly moved out of way to avoid being barreled over by her husband with a body in his arms. “What did you find?”

“Not what, Lil’s. Who.”

He ran to the guest bedroom on the first floor, gently laying you onto the bed.

“No...” Lily whispered from the door, her face falling so pale that her freckles stood out in stark contrast.

“Help me. Help her. She’s hurt, she’s-” he started, but he could hardly breathe.

James’ stuttering seemed to snap Lily out of it, and she began barking orders.

“Go get towels, as many as we can. Put a few throw blankets into the dryer for about twenty minutes to warm them up.” She said as she moved to the bed. James didn’t need to be told twice.

Lily set the soaking cloak that James had unceremoniously plopped onto the bed onto the chesterfield. She vanished the black turtleneck and black trousers from your body hoping you wouldn’t miss them terribly. Her breath was taken away, but she couldn’t stare in horror for long as you began coughing up more blood.

She noticed bleeding from your left side – you had what looked like a stab wound in your ribs, which had punctured your lung. Okay Lily, you know this.

Lily sometimes hated magic - it had caused so much pain in her life. She had been called slurs and faced prejudice, she was left without a relationship with her sister, she lost friends and many she considered family to this magical war, and her husband and family were currently facing death by the hands of an evil wizard. Right at this very moment, however, Lily thanked all the deities possible for her use of magic.

She quickly syphoned the fluids and blood flooding your lung before casting a quick sawdering charm to it. Lily heard the telltale snap of your ribs back into place before she closed the wound. It wasn’t as pretty as what could have been done by a real Healer or even Madam Pomfrey, but it would do.

Lily cleared your mouth and throat of blood and conjured a glass of water, forcing some into your mouth before encouraging you to spit it back out.

Once you were no longer at risk of immediately dying, Lily took in the rest of your body.

Your collarbone appeared to protrude from its rightful place, and you had severe bruising around your neck. Lily corrected your collar bone with a flick of her wand which elicited a painful grunt from your lips. You seemed quite a bit thinner than the last time she had seen you, and wondered when your last good meal was. She levitated you gently off the bed and noted that the majority of the bruising appeared around your torso and back. You had a large, healed scar on your right thigh and a small puncture shaped scar on your lower left abdomen. But none of this made Lily feel nearly as sick as when she noticed the word mudblood carved into the skin of your left arm; the wound appeared brand new, as if it had just happened, but it was dry and not bleeding.

The bedroom door slammed open as James threw a pile of at least twenty towels onto the other side of the bed as your form. “I’ve got blankets in the drying machine thingy.” He muttered out of breath as he straightened his glasses.

“Merlin’s tits. What-” he started before Lily cut him off.

“Out, out. Give us some privacy, I’m going to run her a warm bath. Can you bring me some clothes for her?”

James jumped and took off out of the room again.

You had been coming in and out of consciousness as Lily gently washed your body. Every time your eyes met Lily’s green ones, Lily felt her breath leave her body. It’s like looking at a ghost. She wanted to throw up, she wanted to cry, she wanted to sing and dance, my friend, who we had a funeral for, was back from the dead. But she had a job to do, dammit she had a job to do. She’s not your friend right now Lily, she’s your patient. Help her. She needs a healer. You’re as good as one. Help your patient.

Neither of you spoke – Lily didn’t want to overwhelm you, and she also had no idea what to say. There’s so much I’ve wanted to tell you since you’ve been gone; now I have no words.

Lily helped you dry off and supported your weight as she walked you back into the bedroom. James had brought down a tracksuit of Lily’s, which was too big for you, but it was dry and warm, and it would have to do.

After you were dressed, Lily had you sit on the edge of the bed as she brushed and braided your hair.

“There you go, Y/N.” Lily said as she gently tapped your shoulder, cautious of any pain you may be feeling from your collarbone injury.

“You know my name.” you asked quietly, but it wasn’t a question.

Lily paled. Know your name? Try: know your entire life story up until about a year ago.

“I do.” Lily answered cautiously, moving to stand in front of her friend. “Do you know mine?”

Lily watched as your eyes scanned her face. “No,” you admitted. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” Lily said dumbly. “Well, that’s okay. Nothing to be sorry for. I’m Lily. We were friends, before.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and Lily instantly regretted saying anything. “Here, why don’t we get you into bed, hm?” She offered as a distraction to the both of you.

You grimaced as you shuffled to the head of the bed where Lily pulled the warm blankets James had left for you to climb under.

“I’ll go make a pot of tea and get you some pain potion, okay?”

You seemed to consider Lily for some time before finally nodding your head at her.

“I’ll be right back.”

Lily closed the door behind her and rushed to the kitchen. “James” She sobbed.

Her husband immediately stood from the kitchen table and enveloped her in his arms.

“What happened? Is she okay?” He asked into her hair.

“She doesn’t know who I am.” She muttered miserably.

James froze and pulled his wife away from him to look into her eyes. “She what?”

“She doesn’t recognize me, James. She asked how I knew her name.”

“Oh, Godric.” James muttered, falling back into the chair. “Do you think she’ll recognize me? Or anyone else?”

Lily sighed as she made her way into the kitchen and turned on the kettle. “I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s shock, or amnesia, or a brain injury, or if it’s just me. There are too many variables. I think we should probably wait before we tell the other’s she’s here – I don’t know how they’ll handle not being recognized.”

“Fuck” James whispered.

“Potter.” Lily deadpanned. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

The only response she got was a guilty look from James before the front door flew open.

“Where is she?” Sirius demanded, staring at his friends as if they had personally victimized him, Remus following closely behind, face white as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Would you quiet down.” Lily seethed as she threw up a hasty mufliato.

“I am not fucking around, Red. Where. Is. She.” He repeated angrily, shaking off James’ hand that had been placed on his shoulder.

“If you think I’m letting you anywhere near her when you’re like this, you are out of your sodding mind.” Lily seethed, walking over, and shoving her face into Sirius’. 

“Mate, please. Sit down, let us fill you in. The second we do; you can go see her.” James said, trying to appease his friend. Sirius’ chest heaved as his burning eyes met Remus’ glassy ones which were already on him; a silent question of “Are we going to comply or are we going to cause a scene?” passed between them. Sirius moved his eyes back to Lily; he knew Lily wasn’t messing around - she was the mother of the group; she always had been. And she had always been the absolute best of friends with you and Remus, which made her all the more protective over you two in particular. He knew he should trust her when it came to you, but after the last mission - the mission you never fucking returned from - he doubted he would ever trust anyone with you ever again.

Lily watched his face as he seemed to come to some sort of decision.

“You have exactly five minutes starting the second my arse hits that seat, and then I will see her. Got it?” He stated bluntly, before shoving past her and James and sitting at the kitchen table.

Lily and James shared a look before they joined him at the table, Remus sitting down last.

James and Lily just stared at each other; each silently begging the other to start. Sirius grew more and more agitated the longer no one said anything, his knee bouncing under the table. 4 minutes and 17 seconds before I break every door down in this fucking house to find her.

“So,” James started, “She’s here.”

Lily grimaced. “We heard the snap of apparition and then there was a wobble in the wards.” Sirius’ eyes widened.

“We were ready to run,” Lily input at Sirius’ face, “but since the wards were still up and unaffected, James went to investigate.”

“She was soaked to the bone and just lying there. Honestly, I...I thought there was just a dead body until she started to choke.” James admitted. “I got her inside and brought her to the room where Lily healed her.”

“And?” Remus asked quietly.

“And it’s not good.” Lily admitted.

“She’s alive.” James amended, giving Lily a pointed look as if saying do you know who you’re talking to right now?

“Right, erm,” Lily started, “She had a stab wound in her ribs which had punctured her lung – that’s what was causing her to choke. I emptied the lung of blood and fluids and closed it up, re-set the broken ribs and closed the wound – her collar bone was also dislocated. She’s badly bruised and beaten. She has a few healed scars...” she trailed off awkwardly.

“Merlin’s tits.” Sirius muttered into his hands which were covering his face. “Is that all?” He asked sarcastically.

“No, there are two more things, but I need you to stay quiet and calm and listen to me. Do not speak until I say so, okay?”

She gave Sirius a pointed look and the man begrudgingly nodded.

“It appears that someone carved the word mudblood into her left arm – the wound looked brand new, but it wasn’t bleeding or red, so I’m not sure why it looks the way it does. I’ll need an actual healer to look it over.” She sighed greatly before continuing. “And she doesn’t know who I am.”

The room fell painfully silent, all eyes on her.

“Someone carved...?” Remus finally began whispering before he was cut off by Sirius.

“What do you mean she doesn’t know who you are?” Sirius asked.

“I mean I’m a stranger to her Sirius.��� She muttered miserably. “She asked me how I knew her name, and when I told her we were friends, she looked like she was going to cry.”

Sirius’ already alabaster skin appeared to grow a sickly paler shade as he looked incredulously at Lily.

He watched as James rubbed Lily’s shoulder. Beaten. Stabbed. Bruised. Tortured. Someone hurt her. Someone touched her – violated her. My girl.

But she’s here. He reminded himself.

“Okay.” He whispered.

The table grew quiet again, everyone turning their attention to the dark-haired man.

“Okay?” Lily asked between sniffles.

“Okay.” He repeated before making eye contact with her again. “She’s likely been through hell, I hardly expect much of her right now. Fuck, I hardly ever expected to get her back at all so, let’s just...” He stopped, looking down at the woodgrain on the table. “We’ll make sure she’s okay to start and then, maybe eventually, we can help her get her memories back or something.” He sucked in a deep breath. “I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

Lily gave him a sad smile as more tears fell.

“Okay Pads.” She said, reaching to take his hand. “Let’s go see our girl.”

“Y/N? It’s me,” Lily started as she leaned into the bedroom door. “Erm, Lily.” She clarified awkwardly. “I’ve got your tea and something to eat, may I come in?”

She waited for a few beats before she poked her head in. “You okay?” She asked gently. She spotted her friend sitting exactly where she had left you; propped up in the bed on a tower of pillows and wrapped in the numerous blankets that James had warmed up for you. Lily plastered on what she hoped was her most calming smile.

“When was the last time you’ve eaten?” She asked gently, moving into the room.

 “I’m not sure.” You admitted in a whisper, warily eying the grapes, cheese, and crackers Lily had prepared that sat beside the tea and vial of pain potion which Lily placed on the bed before you.

“I can get you something else if you’d like, but I figured it might be good to have a little something in your stomach on account of the pain potion.” She grimaced as she motioned toward the offending vial.

The sound of a throat clearing interrupted the women and brought your attention to the door where James and Sirius both stood, waiting for... well, Lily wasn’t sure.

You just stared blankly at the men. Your eyes seemed to dart between James and Sirius, questions flying behind your eyes.

“Mind if we join you?” James asked quietly, holding his hands open as if a universal way to say, see? Friendly. We mean you no harm.

You turned your gaze back to Lily who was silently encouraging you. Lily wore a soft smile, and her eyes were full of compassion and understanding.

“Sure.” You finally said, your voice thick. The boys let out a breath and moved into the room slowly. Lily stared at them both, hoping they got her silent plea: you are great big giant oafs; please be as un-intimidating as possible.

It wasn’t easy; Sirius with his thick, rock-star style black hair and covered in various tattoos which stood out in stark contrast against his alabaster skin. His combat boots which were never tied properly were not the stealthiest footwear, and his various pieces of silver jewelry littering his body added to the intimidating aura that was Sirius Black.

And big, bumbling James; built like the Quidditch chaser he is. He stood slightly taller than Sirius, and between his ADHD and constant need for movement, he was in perfect shape for a soldier. He could appear intimidating when he needed to be, and when he was actually angry: watch out. But those who knew him would laugh and laugh to know you ever feared him if you hadn’t a reason. He smiled warmly at you and sat on the floor near the fireplace.

Sirius sat behind Lily in a wingback chair that he turned to face the bed you were sat on. He monitored your face looking for any signs of recognition as you surveyed the newcomers. He tried not to feel disappointed when he didn’t see any. He failed anyways.

“Our friend’s showed up while the tea was on, we never could keep them away for long.” Lily offered when you still hadn’t said anything.

“Rem will be back later; he ran out to grab some things.” Sirius explained.

James, never being one for sublties asked “do you recognize either of us?” as if the question had been lodged behind his teeth since he first found you.

Lily and Sirius sucked in a breath as they turned to analyze you. Your gaze moved over the two men before looking down at your hands in your lap and shook your head.

“Well, that’s alright; we always liked making new friends.” James offered. “I’m James – I found you outside. And this here is Sirius.” He said, motioning to his friend.

Sirius heard you let out a shakey breath at the end of James' sentence, and Lily noticed tears springing into her friend’s eyes.

“What’s the matter, love?” Sirius asked her gently.

You shook your head miserably and looked between the two men again. Sirius thought he would throw up while Lily’s eyes widened in horror.

“No, no. Y/N, it’s alright, you’re safe, no one’s going to hurt you.” she clarified.

“We’re your friends,” James offered quietly, “we only wanted to know you were okay.”

You didn’t seem able to make eye contact with any of them anymore and stared at the tea tray set out in front of you.

“It’s chamomile,” Lily offered, “it was one of your favourites.”

Sirius and James exchanged a glance before the former slowly stood and made his way over to you; you didn’t look up at Sirius, but he noticed your body tense. Keeping his distance, he picked up the cup of tea and gave it a sniff before taking a sip, making a show of swishing it in his mouth before swallowing. 

“Hm, yep. Chamomile, two sugars and a splash of milk.” He said before he cast a quick revelio over the cup and pot. “And nothing else added.”

He placed the cup back onto the tray. “You can never be too careful these days, hm?” He offered you with a smile before returning to his seat.

You looked at Lily before you carefully picked up the tea with shaking hands. The warmth of the cup brought tears to your eyes as you held it tightly in your hands, enjoying the aroma before taking your own cautious sip.

Seemingly satisfied you weren’t being poisoned, you grimaced at the smell of the pain poition before downing it with nothing more than a cough. Sirius thought you were a much better sport about it than he was.

“Why don’t we light the fire, hm?” Lily asked, beginning to stand.

“I’ve got it.” Sirius mumbled, standing, and placing a few logs into the hearth before casting an incendio.

Sirius could feel your eyes following him; he knew because they burned into his skin like they always had before. He always had a sixth sense when it came to you. He missed this familiar feeling, even though it was currently painful; he never thought he’d feel the burn of your stare again.

“Thank you.” He heard whispered, and looked to see you looking at him from under your lashes as you brought the tea to your lips again.

“You’re very welcome.” He smiled at you.

“Do you know me?” You suddenly whispered. If it wasn’t for the fact that the only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire, the rest of the room’s occupants would have missed it completely.

“Yes.” James said with a soft smile.

“Were we...” you started, before clearing your throat and returning your gaze to your hands. “Were we friends? Before?” You finished, not returning your gaze.

“The best of.” James replied.

You seemed to think on this for a while before you looked up and met Sirius’ eyes.

“And you?” You queried.

Sirius was sure he just heard his heart break. He wondered how much he should tell you. She doesn’t remember me. She doesn’t remember the nights shared, or the fights had, or the days spent. How much does he tell you?

He recognized that everyone is looking at him now; you inquisitively, James appeared distraught, and Lily was looking at him with the saddest smile he’d ever seen. He had very little time to answer this question.

“You couldn’t shake me off, love. I followed you around everywhere.” He settled for, trying to smile at you but it felt more like a grimace.

You sighed and returned to fiddling with your teacup.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. The two present marauders and Lily exchanged glances before turning back towards their friend.

“What for?” Lily asked gently, moving to place a hand on your shoulder. Nobody in the room missed the full body flinch that took place when you spotted a hand coming towards you, which caused Lily’s hand to retreat to her lap.

You sighed heavily again before continuing. “For not recognizing you all.”

“None of that now, gorgeous.” Sirius stated. “You’ve done nothing wrong. You’ll be just fine.”

“Where have you been all this time?” James asked, which was met with a low rumble from Sirius’ throat; a warning that no one in the room missed.

“Prongs, she’s been through hell. Leave her be for now.”

Your eyes flicked between the two men who seemed to be having a silent conversation with their eyes. You looked back to Lily who gave you a crooked smile and a shrug of her shoulders.

“Was your hair shorter when I knew you?” You asked. Sirius tore his eyes away from his best mate and looked into your warm gaze. You looked so inquisitive, and he instantly thought back to the nights that the two of you spent on the astronomy tower where he would point out every constellation and star you could see with your naked eye and tell you their stories; you’d always ask follow-up questions, which he loved because none of your other friends found astronomy to be at all interesting, and he could show off his wealth of knowledge on the topic.

Sirius subconsciously brought his hand up and ran his fingers through his hair. No, he thought, in fact, I’ve cut it quite a bit shorter since the last time I saw you. His hair had always been quite long, especially since he and you became friends back in 4th year. After you passed away - or, disappeared, Sirius supposed – he found it harder and harder to deal with especially when in battle, between needing it to be up elsewise it was in his face, or being easy to grab by enemies. He kept some length, but now the longest pieces came just below his chin.

“I don’t think so, darlin’. Must be thinking of someone else.” He tried to tease, but it came out pained.

Your eyes stayed on Sirius as you analysed him. “My mistake.” You whispered.

It grew incredibly awkward from there. No one knew what to say; you wouldn’t eat or make eye contact with anyone anymore and continued fiddling with your teacup.

“Well, why don’t we leave you to eat up, and you can rest some, hm?” Lily offered, looking around the room at the others. James immediately nodded his head in agreement, whilst you looked indifferent, and Sirius looked anything but pleased at the prospect of leaving the room you were currently situated in.

“Pads, why don’t you help me make something to eat for the rest of us, and we can come check back on Y/N a little later.” She offered.

Sirius kept his gaze on you; you seemed concerned, though he didn’t know what about – were you worried they’d stay? That they’d leave? Were you worried that they wouldn’t come back?

“Alright,” He offered Lily, “I’ll be back shortly, okay?” He added for your benefit. You looked up at that, appearing to analyze him as he moved to the door whilst keeping eye contact.

“Okay.” You whispered, and everyone shuffled out of the room.

“Fuck.” He breathed as the door clicked shut behind him.

The three friends moved back to the kitchen where Sirius did indeed help Lily make more sandwiches while James began to pace the kitchen behind them.

“Spit it out Prongs, we’ve not got all day.” He muttered, tired of his friend’s nervous ticks.

“Listen, mate,” James started awkwardly, “I just want you to be careful.”

Sirius looked at him incredulously. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, with Y/N.” He clarified, which for Sirius clarified absolutely nothing.

“What are you on about?”

“Okay.” James breathed. “Listen, I’m just worried - about all of us, okay? Vix included. I mean, she was as on deaths door the last I saw her and-”

“Yeah, and you fucking left her there.” Sirius spat quietly. James’s face pained considerably, the guilt and memories clear on his face. It wasn’t fair of Sirius, he knew that. You made that choice for the both of them; he saw James’ memory of that moment with his own eyes - hell, he was there when a distraught James dropped into the safe house via portkey without you.

“I know, I...” James started but was interrupted this time by Lily.

“Sirius, we both know how stubborn our girl is. Nothing would have changed that outcome.” She offered him quietly.

“I shouldn’t have interrupted James.” Sirius bit out, knowing he was out of line but not willing to apologize for his words.

“We believed her to be dead for months, and then all of a sudden, she quite literally drops out of the fucking sky and remembers nothing. I’m not saying she’s chosen a side or anything, but I cannot help but be worried. This feels like a trap.”

James’ words hung in the air, Sirius never breaking eye contact with him. Sirius’ stares could be intense which was extremely intimidating. While James was undoubtedly uncomfortable, he needed Sirius to understand his concerns. You were a potential threat whether you were aware of it or not, and you were currently living in his house alongside his family.

“So, what? You think she’s been turned a spy? That she’s been sent to destroy us from the inside out? After all this time?” Sirius asked incredulously.

“I don’t know what to think, Pads. All I’m saying is that I’m scared and for all our sakes, I need you to be careful.”

“You want her out.” Sirius spat.

“No.” Lily and James chorused.

“Sirius no, I want my best friend here, with me where I can help her.." Lily started. "That’s not what this is about. Maybe I’m being naïve, but I don’t think she’s a danger to us. I want her here, Sirius. I need her here.”

James looked at his wife, disagreement written all over his face, but it was joined with acceptance and understanding. You were his friend too; he spent summers and full moons and missions with you, and he wouldn’t trade any of it. Well, he’d leave the missions happily behind but hoped one day that you could spend the first two together again. But he had a war to win and a family to protect, and right now, that had to come first.

The three friends were interrupted by a silvery whisp of a phoenix travelling into the room. The Phoenix whistled three times, waited four seconds and let out one long whistle before adding five short whistles and then disappeared.

“Dumbledore wants a meeting.” James translated.

“I bet it’s all about how your ex-partner is a big fat spy, Prongs.” Sirius muttered.

“Enough.” Lily remarked. “None of this right now, let’s just get her through tonight.”

Lily sat a few sandwiches onto the table.

“I just wish we could get her to a healer; see what could be causing the amnesia.” She murmured miserably.

“What do you think it could be?” James prodded.

 “I’m not sure. Many things can cause amnesia - malevolence or injury, perhaps. If it’s due to a malevolent curse or she’s been obliviated or imperio’d or something, maybe we can reverse it. If it’s an injury... well I’m not sure. Brains are tricky but maybe it can be healed, or I don’t know...” She trailed off frustrated. In her mind, it was either that her friend had been being cursed, or she sustained a brain injury that may not be able to be fixed.

“Maybe it’s something else, Red. We’ll find a way to fix this.” Sirius offered quietly, reaching for her hand across the table which she met. She smiled at him for a few moments.

“She really is the better part of you, isn’t she?” James interrupted.

“How do you mean?” He asked, moving his eyes and soft smile to James who he regarded a little cooler.

“Being all reasonable and optimistic. You’re giving Haz a run for his money being the most optimistic in the family, and he’s ignorant to anything that doesn’t fit in his mouth.” James clarified.

“Classy Prongs,” Sirius muttered. “Jokes at the expense of your own sprog when he’s not even awake to defend himself.”

The three friends chuckled, allowing some of the tension to dissipate from the room. Sirius would let it go for now, but he was less than pleased with his friend’s accusation. But James just wanted to protect his family, and that included Sirius and you, whether Sirius understood that or not.

Sirius rapped at the door gently. “It’s just me, erm, Sirius.” The door opened a crack, and he poked his head in. “Mind if I join you?”

You shook your head which he took as an invitation. He closed the door gently behind himself before he returned to the wingback chair he had settled in earlier. He had his own cup of tea and half a sandwich on a plate.

“Lily’s going to bring us some more tea later, maybe with some sleeping draught. Do you think you’ll need help sleeping tonight?” He said.

“You’re asking my permission?” You asked, which caused Sirius to nearly choke on his tea.

He looked at you incredulously for a moment. “Of course, I am. It’s your choice”

You seemed to think about that for a moment.  “Perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad idea, to have an aid.” You admitted finally.

He considered this. “Very well, we’ll get that brewed for you.”

Sirius continued to watch you. You fiddled with the hem of the sweatshirt you were wearing, which he recognized to be one of Lily’s. Lily, the beautiful Amazonian woman she was, meant the outfit was far too big for your smaller frame, especially with how much you had seemed to hollow out since Sirius last saw you. That’s okay, he reminded himself, we’ll get her all fixed up. He made a mental note to try to find what clothes of yours he still had at his and Moony’s flat. He suddenly felt simultaneously embarrassed and grateful he kept most of your old things, only donating what you hadn’t used in the past year and a half before you went missing. Remus had suggested placing some of his and Sirus’ favourites of yours in what muggles called Ziploc baggies which basically cast a stasis charm on it to keep it fresh. It may sound weird, but for Padfoot and Moony, both of them understood how comforting someone’s scent could be, and he was willing to look ‘weird’ for the sake of keeping what little of you that he could. He’d go shopping as well, to replace what he had given away. Maybe even get you a whole new wardrobe - when you were feeling better, you could come with him, pick out your own things.

Thinking about you feeling better, he looked up at you and noticed how not better you were. Your eyebrows were furrowed as if you were in pain, your knee was bouncing underneath you, and you kept looking at the doors.

“What is it, love? What’s wrong?” He asked, pushing his plate and cup aside and rising to kneel in front of you.

You looked at him, startled at first, before tears welled up in your eyes.

He remembered your flinch at Lily’s hand, so once he was on his knees, he slowly raised his hands and motioned for yours all while maintaining eye contact. You looked between his hands and his eyes for a moment before you lifted your hands into his. He wondered if you could hear his heartbeat as it bounced around in his chest. Your skin still felt cold – though he remembered that you always seemed to run colder than he did.

“What’s wrong love?” He asked again.

You began to cry in earnest. “I...” you choked out.

“You can tell me, it’s alright.” He offered.

“I have to pee!” You whispered through a sob. “I’m sorry.” You added. Sirius scrunched his eyebrows at you. Had this been anyone else, he would have started to laugh. But you seemed thoroughly distraught right now; your knee was still bouncing, and you looked so pained.

“Okay, that’s okay. There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He offered. You made a disgruntled sound.

“Have you been waiting this whole time?” He asked. You cried some more and nodded.

“Oh love, okay. Come on.” He began to stand and used your hands that were still in his to pull you up. You stumbled a bit, but he steadied you.

You made your way to the bathroom, and he sat you on the toilet. “Do you, erm, are you okay to do...what you need to do, by yourself?” He asked awkwardly. You nodded quickly.

“Okay.” He smiled at you. “I’ll be just outside this door, okay?” He said as he backed out of the washroom. He closed the door, and he could hear you shuffling as you pulled down your trousers.

Merlin. She was nearly in a fit over asking to use the loo. Why would she wait to ask to go?

Sirius aggressively wiped his face, feeling tears burn his eyes. He heard the click of a door and moved his hands, expecting to see you but was surprised as Lily entered the bedroom.

“Hey. How’s she doing?” She asks as she peered around the room trying to spot her friend.

Sirius sighed. “She almost let her bladder burst waiting to be told she could use the loo.” He stated plainly.

“Oh Vix...” Lily tutted as she leaned against the back of the couch which faced the bathroom door. Sirius moved to join her.

“She’s open to a sleeping draught for tonight.” He offered. Lily just hummed.

“What are we doing to do, Pads?” She asked after some time.

“Be patient as hell, I guess.” He answered.

Lily chuckled and nudged Sirius with her shoulder. “Patience. A Sirius Black special.”

Lily watched as Sirius smirked and looked back at the bathroom door. Lily was right, of course; he was never very patient. He wasn’t the kind one of the group, he wasn’t always very understanding, and he surely wasn’t the patient one. He was loud, he was angry, he was crass, and he never slowed down, not for anyone. Except for her she remembered.

(Five summers ago)

The group of them had been getting ready to head to the Potter’s for a few weeks in the summer between 6th and 7th year; you had asked to be picked up last so that you didn’t hold everyone up. Sirius and James picked Lily up first, ever the timely one. They stopped at Remus’ next, who was mostly ready, but ran back inside four times as the others listed off things he may have forgotten. “Toothbrush?” Lily asked. “Fuck.” Remus muttered as he ran back inside the Lupin cottage. He emerged victorious with his toothbrush in hand.

“First thing we’re doing when we get to the manor is jumping in the lake. It’s too bloody hot today.” James muttered, which caused Remus to groan as he went back inside.

“Moooooonnyyyyyyy.” Sirius whined as his friend disappeared.

This happened two more times for his sandals a a pair of sunglasses which was met with a lot of whining from Sirius before they were ready to go.

Next stop was Peter’s house; they were met by Peter’s mother who showed them to his room which was nothing short of a disaster.

“Peter Pettigrew!” She shrilled at him from the door. “You are not to leave this room like this, do you hear me young man?!” She demanded as she started down the hallway.

“Great, now we have to wait for him to finish packing and clean his bloody room.” Sirius muttered as he kicked Peter’s school bag aside to sit on his desk chair.

“Wormy, you knew we were coming and what time. In fact, we’re late. How are you not ready?” Remus asked incredulously, trying to help Peter fold his clothes and put it in his bag as the kid continued running around his room throwing things on his bed which was deemed to be the ‘pack’ pile.

“’Cause he’s a wanker, that’s why.” Sirius muttered none-too-quietly from his moping spot in the desk chair which earned him a flick in the head from James.

“Now, now, Pads. We’ll make it home eventually.” He chuckled.

“Listen, I’m sweaty, I’ve been travelling around all of the UK picking up you knob heads and we still have one stop. I wanna gooooooooo.” He whined petulantly.

“Okay well you can whine all you want to Vixen since she’s our last stop then. Maybe she’ll feel bad for you.” Lily offered, zipping up Peter’s first of three bags he ended up leaving with.

Entirely too long later, they travelled to a spot close to your house and began the trek, the sun still high in the sky and accosting Sirius.

“Too bloody hot for this.” He muttered to himself as he knocked a little impolitely on your door. A few moments later, a frazzled looking you swung the door open and looked at your five friends.

“Oh God, here we go.” Lily muttered as she was sure Sirius’ whining was going to continue at the lack of a packed bag in your hand. She was completely astounded however when he rushed inside and shut the door behind him, leaving his four other friends outside. The said friends shared a bemused look before leaning their ears against the door.

“What’s the matter?” Sirius asked you gently. They heard a small sniffle.

“I’m sorry Siri. I’m not ready. I slept through my alarms and then I had to do laundry and the washing machine is giving me problems and my dad is away for work so I had to make sure everything was set up because the cats will be alone for the rest of the week and I’m not ready and I’m sorry.” You finished taking a long breath which sounded like it was close to becoming a sob.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. Not a problem at all love, come on. Let’s get you packed up. We’ve got time.” Sirius could be heard saying before your sets of footsteps moved further into the house.

“‘We’ve got time’ he says.” Peter muttered, mimicking his friend as he kicked a pebble.

“There’s always time for Vix, Wormy. You know this.” James said as he winked at Peter and slung his arm over Lily.

(Present)

Lily and Sirius heard water running and knew you were finished. They waited for a few moments but when you never exited the bathroom, they shared a quick glance.

Sirius moved up to the door and gently knocked. “You okay?” As he waited for a response, he made eye contact with Lily.

“Yeah.” You answered through the door.

“Are you done?”

You were silent for a moment before you answered, “yes.”

Lily and Sirius looked at each other again for a moment. “I’m gonna open the door then, alright?” He didn’t receive an answer, so opened the door slowly.

You were leaning your weight against the bathroom sink and had your arms wrapped around yourself protectively.

“Feel better?” Sirius asked gently, offering you his hand.

You looked from his hand to his eyes. “Yes. Thank you.” You said as gently took his hand. He placed your arm in his and helped you towards the bed on the other side of the room.

“No need to thank me, love.” He offered as he helped you up onto the bed. It seemed to be a little too high for you, and Sirius made a note to put a step stool here for you tomorrow.

“Y/N, the bathroom is there for you whenever. No one else will use it. If you ever need help, you can let me know, okay?” Lily offered.

“Anything,” Sirius added solemnly, lifting the duvet for you to climb in under. “You can ask for anything, okay?”

You fiddled with the duvet and quilt after it was set on top of your lap.

“Is there anything you can think of now that you want or need?” He asked, ducking his head to try to look into your eyes.

You searched his eyes, the silver gaze so familiar against his black hair.

Sirius was about to give up and look to Lily when you finally answered. “I don’t think so.”

He smiled gently at you. “That’s alright. I’ll think of lots of things for you.”

“I’m sure Pads already has a list compiled.” Lily snorted from the end of the bed.

“As a matter of fact, my dear Red, I do.” He smirked at her as he began tidying up the room.

“She’ll need some clothes...” Lily started.

“Already on it. And we’re gonna get a stool so she doesn’t have to haul herself up into that tall ass bed. We’ll get her the shampoo she likes; we can’t let those locks suffer.” He added with a wink in your direction.

Lily took the dishes Sirius had collected and brought them to the kitchen where she began the tea just as Remus came back in through the front door with a box in his hands.

“This is about two weeks of dreamless sleep if she needs one every night. I can get more if she needs it.” He said as he placed the box on the kitchen table.

“Thank you, Rem, I’m sure this will be a great help.” She smiled at her friend before kissing his cheek.

“How’s he holding up?” He asked. She knew he was worried about his roommate.

Sirius’ feelings for you have never been quiet nor simple. In fairness to her friend, he had always lived with his heart on his sleeve; his feelings written all over his face. His love for you had always been palpable. They thought they were going to lose him when they lost you, and in some ways, they did. They lost the slightly gentler side of Sirius, the side that would give pause when his friends needed it, who tried to see the good in everybody first. 

His better half was back, but not really. Sirius wasn’t usually able to live by halves and they wondered how this would play out while they waited for you to remember something, anything.

“He’s hanging in there. He’s been really strong for her.” She answered gently as the tea pot started to whistle. Remus hummed in acknowledgment.

“She always was the strong one for us, when it mattered most. Seems fitting he returns the favour.” He admitted.

The sleeping draught tea made, Lily re-entered the bedroom with Remus where they found Sirius setting up the couch with a pillow and some blankets.

“Having yourself a slumber party here, Pads?” Remus asked lightly.

“Yeah, I think I’ll stay here for tonight, keep our guest company. Try not to miss me too much, alright Moony?” He offered cajolingly, but Remus and Lily knew; he wouldn’t be leaving your side any time soon, not unless you asked him to.

Continue to part 2 here.

[hairmetal666]

TW for internalized homophobia and related bad decisions

Steve is 12 and he thinks about finding his soulmate all the time.

You're supposed to find them through touch; your life together will flash in front of your eyes. They're rare, though, soulmates. So rare that most people never find theirs. So rare that some people say they're made up.

Steve wants to be one of the lucky few. He wants it to be a true, unbreakable bond, a love he gets to have forever.

He wonders if he'll find his soulmate at school. He's popular, he thinks. Tommy would say they were popular. But Tommy's definition of popular mostly has to do with the number of kids he can get away with being mean to, and that's not really Steve's deal. Tommy is like a prey animal, the way he can find weaknesses.

There's a new boy at school. Steve doesn't know his name, but they have English together. He's too thin, with huge brown eyes, and all his clothes are too big. His head's been inexpertly shaved and he never looks anybody in the eye. It's only a matter of time before he catches Tommy's interest, and Steve wishes he could stop it somehow, but he's never been good at going against Tommy.

The day comes, of course. They're standing in the hall, the new boy walking towards them, head down, as always. Tommy nudges Steve says, "What a loser."

And Steve shrugs, starts to ask Tommy about football, if the Colts can make the Super Bowl, but the boy is nearing and Tommy is cackling.

"Watch this." Tommy sticks his foot out.

The boy doesn't react fast enough. He falls forward with a bitten off yelp, and Steve moves without really thinking, only knows he can't stand to see him fall. He catches the new kid beneath his armpits, Steve's thumbs brushing the soft skin his arms.

The world around him falls away at the touch.

---

He's sitting on the floor in the band room, Eddie--the boy's name is Eddie--next to him. Eddie's hair is a little longer and Steve's in a green polo he doesn't recognize, and he's never been in the band room in his life. They're leaning into each other and laughing and Eddie's so beautiful.

---

They're in the woods--Skull Rock, Steve thinks. Eddie's hair is curled and frizzed around his chin, and he's laughing, his cheeks pink, his dimples prominent. He tries to pull his hair in front of his face, but it's not long enough yet to reach. Steve is overwhelmed, wants to kiss him so bad. He's never had to wait to kiss someone, or been unsure, or--

He wants to kiss Eddie.

So, he does.

It's hard, desperate, not the first kiss Steve expected, but then they've been waiting for so long.

---

Steve stands in the hallway of Hawkins High. He's wearing a striped, beige short-sleeved polo, and flirting with Nancy Wheeler.

He likes Nancy, she's pretty and smart and fun. And it's easy. He can hold her hand. Can introduce her to his parents. Can take her on dates and kiss her in public.

She bats her big blue eyes at him, and he can't help but kiss her.

He pulls away gently, brushing his thumb against her cheek, and when he looks down the hall, Eddie is there, frozen. His mouth is wide, his eyes glassy.

Steve thinks the way his heart stutters must be what dying feels like.

---

He's sitting on his diving board, facing away from the pool. He smokes a cigarette and there's a bat studded with nails at his feet, what the fuck. Music thuds, shrieks and laughter seep into the cool night air.

He should be playing the gracious host. He should be having a good time. Instead, his eyes search the woods and he taps another smoke out of the pack.

"Harrington?" The voice makes him jump, hand flexing around the bat handle. "It's freezing out. What are you doing?"

He recognizes the voice now, doesn't turn, doesn't respond, can't stand to see another person he let down; another person who could call him bullshit and be 100% correct.

"Do you not have a jacket? C'mon, man."

Something warm settles over his shoulders, and he inadvertently breathes in weed and leather and cedar. He squeezes his eyes shut, like that will make the comforting, familiar scent go away. He'll have to move to shrug off the jacket, though, which would mean acknowledging Eddie's presence.

"Can you at least say something, Harrington? You're freaking me out."

"I'm fine, Ed--Eddie." The nickname falls from his lips too easily. He doesn't miss how Eddie flinches.

His hair is long now, down to his shoulders, brittle looking in the cold. He's wearing a t-shirt and worn flannel, arms wrapped around his chest for warmth now that his jacket is draped over Steve's shoulders.

Steve is an idiot. He's such an idiot. Chasing after Nancy when Eddie is--

"I'm sorry," he says. He turns to face his soulmate, then. "I'm sorry about Nancy, I--"

Eddie jerks back like he's been hit. "Fuck you, Harrington," he snarls.

---

He sits in the back of an ambulance, eyes swollen shut, face throbbing. He's wearing a sailor suit for inexplicable reasons, which is almost more upsetting than the ambulance. He smells like puke and something toxically sweet.

A girl is with him, one he doesn't recognize, but he feels deeply, instinctively protective of her. He holds her shaking shoulders tight, tries to whisper comfort to her through his busted and bleeding mouth.

He's pretty sure he has a concussion.

"Steve!" Someone screams over the sounds of the EMTs and firefighters, of the building burning and collapsing behind them.

Eddie bursts through the gathered onlookers and past the ring of police cars enclosing them. He's falling into the ambulance before Steve has a chance to react.

"Sweetheart," Eddie sobs. He tries to cup Steve's face, but his fingers flutter around the damage. "Sweetheart, oh my god. I came as soon as I heard. Are you--what can I--"

Steve stares at him--his hair falling from its messy bun, his cutoff Metallica tee, concern and love leaking from those brown, brown eyes--and bursts into tears.

---

They sit on the roof of his house, sharing a joint back and forth. It's chilly, bordering on cold, winter just on the horizon. They're laughing, leaning into each other, and Steve is--he's happy. Elated. Could float away with it.

Robin--Robin-- is in the bathroom, or maybe in the kitchen for snacks, and it's just them for now. They're looking at each other, smiles wide, eyes bright.

They're taking it slow. Steve knows it's important, after what he did. They talked about it, his abandoning of Eddie for Nancy, chasing what his dad told him was normal and expected.

He doesn't want to cross any boundaries, wants to do this right. How Eddie deserves. But they're leaning into each other and they're smiling, and he's so in love. Intoxicated with it, lost.

In the end, he doesn't know who makes the first move, just that they're kissing and it's like coming home.

---

He's in a building, a shed or something. It's musty and dirty, smells like oil and gasoline and a building left closed up too long. Eddie's in his arms and he's talking through hiccuping sobs.

"I didn't save her, Steve. I didn't help. I just left her there! She was broken in pieces and I--I--"

Steve holds him close, tight, squeezes his eyes closed to stop his own tears from falling. He never wanted this for Eddie, never wanted him involved. Thought he could protect him from all of Hawkins's terrible things.

They aren't alone. Robin is there, coming up to hold Eddie too, plus a redheaded girl and curly haired boy he doesn't recognize.

"We'll figure this out, Eddie." The boy promises.

"We won't let anyone hurt you. We know you didn't murder Chrissy," the girl says.

---

Steve is in a world he doesn't understand, and Eddie is his arms. Eddie is in his arms, and there's blood everywhere. He's not awake, he's not--his heart beat is soft and slow, too slow, and his breathing stutters, and Steve can't--

"Baby, stay with me." He begs as he runs across the dead and rotting landscape. "Eddie, please. Wake up, okay? Wake up for me. I need to--I need to know that you're alright."

Eddie stays limp in his arms.

"Please," he begs. "You can't leave me. We promised, remember? We promised we'd be together forever. The rest of our lives. Me and You. Our six little nuggets. You promised."

The portal back to Hawkins is less than a dozen feet away, he's so close. Eddie gasps to consciousness, but his eyes are still hazy.

"Hi, sweetheart," he mumbles.

"Hey, hi, you're doing so good. We're almost out, okay? We're almost out and we'll get you to the hospital."

Eddie reaches out a weak hand, touches the edge of Steve's jaw. "Love you, Stevie," he whispers. "Glad you were mine."

He goes still in Steve's hold.

---

The images come faster now--

A hospital room at Hawkins General, Eddie hooked to machines. Steve holds hands with an older man. They wait in terrified silence

Eddie propped in a bed, a bunch of kids around him, Steve and Robin at his side. His eyes keep sliding to Steve, like he's making sure Steve's real, that he's still there

Their bodies tangled together in a bedroom Steve doesn't recognize

Steve down on one knee in a marble room lit only by black and red candles, Eddie standing in front of him

Hand-in-hand on a cliffside overlooking the ocean. The Chief of Police, Jim Hopper, stands in front of them with tears in his eyes and a beaming smile on his face

In a big, green yard behind a cozy little house. A little boy with Eddie's eyes and curls riding on his shoulders. Eddie sprinting around with a tiny girl giggling after him, perfect imitation of the King Steve hair-do on her tiny head

In a park, surrounded by family and friends. Steve has a little bit of a paunch and wears glasses. Eddie's hair streams around his shoulders, going grey at the temples. There's a banner strung between trees proclaiming 'Happy 20th Steve and Eddie!' They're surrounded by everyone they love and it's perfect

---

The images flash too fast for Steve to catalog after that, seconds-long glimpses of a shared future, and then he's back in his body in the hallway of Hawkins Middle, still holding too tight onto Eddie's arms.

Eddie rears back, face pale and terrified, and Steve is too shocked to do anything but let him go.

Tommy's yelling, but Steve only has eyes for his soulmate, who scrambles to his feet and throws himself down the hall away from them.

"What the hell, Harrington? Why'd you catch him? That was about to be funny as hell! I bet he'd have broken his nose--you ruined it!"

Steve isn't listening. He's trying to hold on to the memories of their life together, the ones that are already fading.

The last thing he remembers is that, sometime in the not-too-distant future, he'll find his way to the band room, Eddie Munson, and the rest of their lives.

[zarasu]

Cw depression, Binghe's depression becomes physical

***

The first months Luo Binghe is in the Endless Abyss, he's so busy fighting for his life and trying to stay sane that he wouldn't notice any changes in his body even if they did happen. Then, towards the end of his first year down there, he catches a break.

He is sitting in a cave, peeling his blood- and dirt crusted robes off of his body when he notices it. The scar right over his heart, where Shizun's sword pierced his flesh, is black.

First, he thinks it's dirt and tries to clean it as much as he can.

But it doesn't come off. Instead, as he scrubs the thin barrier of skin over it away, it breaks open and a strange, dark grey goo starts leaking out.

It doesn't look like anything that should come out of his body.

But Luo Binghe's body has changed so drastically over the last few months, has done so many things it isn't supposed to, that he can't muster up any fear for what could just be another demonic peculiarity.

He washes his robes in the green river running through the cave, cleans the grey goo off his chest and pulls his robes back on.

It keeps happening. Sometimes it heals just enough that he can go a few days without any... leakage. Then, he's in a fight and it breaks open again. Sometimes, it just builds up for too long and breaks open anyway.

Sometime during the second year, he finds the emotional capacity to be mildly concerned about it. Besides leaking, it also starts to spread. The black escapes the scar and starts to taint the skin around it in strange shapes, winding and curling like the long vines of a plant.

He begins to suspect that he has been cursed. Or maybe, one of the plants of the abyss has found its way into his skin and is now spreading inside his body. He doesn't know. Even if he did know, what could he do to stop it?

In any case, he doesn't get weaker. He can still fight and still flee and that's the most important part. And, in the privacy of his mind, he admits that sometimes, he kind of likes it. When the grey mud gushes out of his heart and stains his chest, when it runs down his arms and drips off his fingers.

No matter how he badly he gets injured, his body always heals, returning to a perfect, unblemished state.

The black scar and the way it stains him grey is the only thing that makes his outsides match how he's feeling inside.

The truth is, he doesn't try that hard to get rid of it. He gets used to it, even as it spreads further, until his chest is covered with curling black, possessively cradling him like thorny vines. He leaves a trail of grey if he doesn't keep his torso wrapped and clean.

It doesn't stop, even when he gets out of the abyss. The demons he fights and defeats don't dare mention it. Mobei-jun, when Binghe pins him to the ground and declares his victory, looks at his chest and frowns, but he drops the matter when Luo Binghe roughly pushes him away.

Then he's at Huan Hua Palace and, for once, has to truly hide his condition. He keeps his chest wrapped and vanishes now and then to change the bandages and clean up the goo. The drains of Huan Hua are flooded with grey and unbidden, Luo Binghe has to laugh.

He's reminded of women after they birth a child, desperately trying to keep the leakage contained.

Any child he fed this milk to would surely become a monster.

It was appropriate, in a way.

Then he's in Jinlan City, investigating a strange sickness. When he realises it's sowers, he knows he needs to be careful not to let them touch him. Anyone trying to treat him would pull up his long sleeve and be greeted by the sight of black, inhuman vines under his skin.

It's all manageable, all routine, until he turns around and there's Shizun.

Suddenly, he breathes in and, for the first time in a long while, feels something. It's not until the feeling brings a speck of colour with it that he realises his world has become entirely grey.

Shizun is as cold as stone towards him. His face doesn't betray any of his thoughts, he looks at Luo Binghe impassively and quietly while he talks and laughs with others.

Now more than ever, Luo Binghe feels like a child left in the middle of a large, grey sea, abandoned and forced to watch as he is disregarded.

Over the course of a few hours, the black vines creep down his legs. When he is alone in his room, he coughs and a string of grey drips out of his mouth onto the table.

He blankly stares at it for some time.

Then, he goes to confront Shen Qingqiu.

Things escalate quickly and Luo Binghe can't say he's sad about it. Finally, finally, Shen Qingqiu looks at him, shows some emotions other than disinterest on his beloved, hated face.

He chases him through Jinlan City on his sword and corners him in an alley. He knows he's frightening. He doesn't care, even when Shen Qingqiu points his sword at him.

It pierces his hand and Luo Binghe looks down, curious if it'll be blood or grey goo coming out of it.

It's red blood, surprisingly. Now that it's there, he might as well use it.

He pins Shen Qingqiu against a wall and pushes his bloody hand against his mouth, forcing the blood onto his tongue, down his throat.

Turns out his Shizun is only human, after all.

Shen Qingqiu swallows and his eyes dart around in fear. They catch on the front of Luo Binghe's robes and he abruptly stills. Luo Binghe realises that, during the hunt, the scar broke open again and stained his robes grey.

It must be a bemusing sight for Shen Qingqiu. Still, Luo Binghe doesn't expect him to care for long. He's all the more surprised when Shen Qingqiu seems to forget all about fleeing and, instead, gently grabs Binghe's wrist and guides his hand away from his mouth.

He thinks about resisting, at first, but he's becoming a little curious about what Shen Qingqiu is trying to do.

As soon as he can move, Shen Qingqiu is patting over his robes. "What is this," he asks. "Binghe, are you hurt?"

"Now, Shizun cares?" Luo Binghe laughs bitterly, but Shen Qingqiu doesn't seem to hear him. He's too busy parting Luo Binghe's robes.

He lets him. He's tired of hiding.

The black scar is uncovered, and the myriad of black vines spreading all over his body with it. They're all bleeding now, grey liquid flowing down his body in rivulets.

He looks like a broken cup, Luo Binghe thinks. Shattered and leaking everything that was inside.

"What is this," Shen Qingqiu asks, with the most horrified expression Luo Binghe has ever seen from him.

He touches the scar and his hand is immediately stained grey. He pulls it back and stares at it silently.

Luo Binghe wonders if he's disgusted.

Instead, life seems to return to his body and he suddenly grabs Luo Binghe by the shoulders. "Binghe, have you been cursed?"

He moves to touch the scar again and Luo Binghe grasps his wrist to stop him. He stains his wrist further with the touch.

"It's not a curse," he says quietly.

Shen Qingqiu looks up at him helplessly and Luo Binghe has the old, familiar thought that he is beautiful.

"What is happening to you?" he asks.

Luo Binghe is still angry, and hurt, and lost. But, right now, he finds it in himself to answer honestly. "I don't know."

Shen Qingqiu shakes his head. "This isn't supposed to happen."

A laugh escapes him. None of this had been supposed to happen. Luo Binghe feels that his life has stopped being anything like it's supposed to be from the moment he was pushed into the abyss.

But Shen Qingqiu seems more distressed about this, of all things, than anything else that happened.

He grabs Luo Binghe tighter and seems to barely resist shaking him as he insistently says: "Don't worry, Binghe, we will figure this out. We will find a way to help you."

Luo Binghe stares at him silently. Maybe he should feel more about this. He tries, but he just feels cold. He doesn't know if this is real. Shen Qingqiu cast him away so easily. Why would he be concerned now?

Shen Qingqiu seems to finally realise he might as well shake a stone with how little Luo Binghe reacts. He draws back a step, suddenly looks smaller.

"Unless... That is, I know you don't like me right now. Or rather, hate me. That's alright. I promise, you can hate me as much as you want to, but you need to be healthy to do it, alright? Just, let me help you this one time. I might know someone who can help you."

Luo Binghe shakes his head in denial and Shen Qingqiu grows fierce again, his eyebrows drawing together like elegant swords. "Binghe, don't be stubborn now! I swear, you can take your revenge however you want, later, when you're better again. But right now, nothing matters more than this."

He hesitates, looks to the side and back to Luo Binghe's chest. "Please, Binghe, let me help you."

Luo Binghe is standing on an island in the middle of a large, grey sea, and he knows he has been abandoned. There is no one coming to save him, he has been forgotten.

Except now, the one who abandoned him in the first place has come back, is reaching out towards him, is offering his hand to help Luo Binghe off the island.

Luo Binghe is afraid to take that hand. He's afraid to do anything. He doesn't know if he wants to be saved anymore.

But Shen Qingqiu is still looking at him with pleading eyes and Luo Binghe's biggest weakness has always been that he has a soft heart for the people he loves.

He doesn't know if he wants to be saved but, even after everything that happened, he can't bear to disappoint Shizun.

Slowly, slowly, he reaches out and grasps Shen Qingqiu's sleeve.

Shen Qingqiu exhales sharply and pulls him off the island and into his arms.

Luo Binghe takes a breath. The air tastes like spring.

[teencopandthesourwolf]

SAME

for the @sterekdrabbles 12.04.24 challenge. the prompt words were: lush, wakeful, and lethal.

.

Stiles was in for a long, wakeful night. 

He was devastated when Derek left after Mexico, but had been doing okay for a while now.

Then the werewolf came back—a lethal blow for Stiles moving on.

It'll always be him.

A huff from his open window had Stiles looking from his bed to see unnaturally blue eyes. The wolf padded silently over, resting front paws on Stiles's comforter, waiting. 

Stiles sighed, then sunk his fingers into Derek's lush fur.

Fuck it. 

He said, “I love you,” and when Derek whined and licked his face, Stiles realised maybe that was okay. 

.

[writer-in-theory]

berry sweet on your lips

TW: Period-typical homophobia, Some Internalized homophobia, Implied abuse (Steve's dad is a pos)

When Steve was seven, his Mama caught him in her makeup.

He was sitting up on the bathroom counter, sloppily drawn eyeliner over his eyelids and trying to apply bright cherry red lipstick to his lips without smearing. The application process required so much focus he hadn't realized when the front door opened downstairs, or when his mom called repeatedly for him to come down to dinner. He did hear the surprised little yelp from her though, and the sigh once she realized which eyeliner he'd accidentally broken.

"Honey, those aren't toys to play with." His Mama's voice was tight like she was barely containing her frustration at the lost products. Dad always made her upset, and Steve didn't want to add to it. So it didn't seem like a good time to correct her, that no, he wasn't trying to play. He'd seen how pretty makeup could make people, and he wanted it. He wanted to be pretty.

Instead, he sighed and nodded, hopping down from the counter. "Sorry, Mama."

"It's okay, baby, that stuff just isn't for kids to play with. C'mon, let's get you washed up and we can get some dinner."

It wasn't the last time he'd thought about makeup, though it took years until Steve found the courage to try again.

--

It happened when he was fourteen in Carol Perkins's basement. He, Tommy, and Carol spent most nights together anymore. The Perkins' always volunteered to babysit Steve when he was younger and his Mama started going on business trips with his dad, and they always let Tommy come over so he wouldn't be left out. That basement with its bright tie-dyed blankets scattered around and posters of every attractive celebrity you could imagine felt more like home than his own house.

Maybe that was why he felt so comfortable suggesting it in the first place.

"Ugh, I need more girl friends, honestly," Carol groaned, flopping back onto the pile of pillows and blankets she'd acquired.

"What now? We're not entertaining enough?" Tommy teased from where he and Steve were playing air hockey. Steve's knuckles were sure to bruise tomorrow from the speed with which they were knocking the puck at each other but they hadn't stopped laughing yet. "Need to go braid Tina's hair and talk about boys?"

"You're not boring," Carol clarified, "but it'd be nice to do someone's makeup and talk about boys every once in awhile. A girl needs some gossip."

Tommy laughed, so Steve laughed too because it seemed the right thing to do. But really...it didn't sound so bad, did it? So when the laughter died down, he spoke up. "You could put makeup on me, I don't care," Steve shrugged.

He did. He did care so much. Even the thought of it made his heart flutter, threatening to fly away at any second.

"Really?" Carol raise one eyebrow, sitting all the way up and twisting around to face him. "You'd let me put makeup on you? The whole thing, I don't do boring makeup."

"C'mon, man, don't let her do that to you," Tommy groaned, but Steve just shrugged again and abandoned the air hockey table, coming over to sit down on the floor with Carol.

"It washes off, right?" As if he hadn't known how easy it was to swipe off red lipstick, though it would always leave a deep tint to his lips like he'd been eating berries. "It can't hurt."

It at least made Carol happy, and seeing her smile as she rushed off to retrieve her makeup bag made Tommy's grumbles about ditching the game worth it.

And you know, it was fun. Carol was actually gentle, and seemed to know what she was doing. Steve had his eyes closed most of the time while she brushed powder and liner on them, as she swiped mascara on and tried to perfect whatever glamorous look she'd seen in her latest magazine. She did talk about boys too, all about which girl had crushes on each boy that they knew, and why Eric Thompson was the most crushed on boy in Hawkins Middle.

"Eric Thompson? Get a grip, Perkins, you can do so much better than him," Steve told her, laughing at her indignant shout.

"Seriously. The guy's a total meathead," Tommy called from where he was sprawled out across one of the couches, idly watching whatever movie the Perkins' decided to rent for the night.

"You're a total meathead," Carol shot back in return. "Not Stevie here, though. No, I think after I tell all the girls about what a good guy you are, you'll be the new king of Hawkins Middle."

"Screw Hawkins Middle, I better be king of Hawkins High for this," Steve laughed, only because he had no idea how to thank her for it. By the time he'd left the Perkins' house the next morning, the bright eyeshadow and tacky lip gloss had been washed away but the feeling of pure peace it had brought him persisted.

--

Steve hadn't dared try again, not until he was sixteen and saw a guy wearing nail polish. It was one of the Seniors, the one who wore all black and who the whole basketball team called The Freak. And maybe he was a freak, Steve didn't really ever have a reason to talk to him and find out, but the sight of the swath of black over his nails left Steve breathless.

"You taking photography this semester, Harrington?" The guy—something Munson, Steve thinks—asked when Steve hadn't stopped staring in the hallway.

"Huh?" Steve startled, looking down both sides of the hallway as if to check if any of his friends were seeing who he was talking to. "No?"

"Shame," Munson let out a little 'tsk' noise, the way Steve's dad always did when he was disappointed. "You could've taken a picture and made it last longer."

Oh, oh. Steve's face flushed red, and the second he saw a flash of another green and orange letterman he panicked. They would know, oh God they'd see him with The Freak and it would all be over, they would figure out that he wanted to paint his nails too and—

Steve wasn't proud of the words spoken after that. They lingered far after he'd said them, swirling in his head until it sounded a little more like his dad was repeating them over and over again, reminding Steve of just what kind of person he was to stay clear away from.

It was that guilt that finally convinced him to go to Melvald's, where the kind woman at the counter didn't question why he was buying the cheapest makeup products he could find. He didn't even know if any of it would look good together, he just knew he needed it. He needed a way to see himself like this before he messed up again where someone could see, where someone could figure him out.

And so began the careful ritual. Every night he'd rush home from practice, lock his bedroom door even though he knew his parents were away on another trip, and swipe the makeup over his eyes, cheeks, lips. He got better at it with every attempt, until the liner wasn't shaky and his lipstick didn't look like it had already been kissed off (and now, wasn't that a thought).

--

Except that was the trouble with secrets, wasn't it? They couldn't stay buried for long, not when Hawkins was so small and this felt so much larger than the town, than the state, than anything Steve had ever been apart of.

It was only a matter of time until his dad found out.

That night he'd been sloppy, unprepared for his parents to come home early. The light in the upstairs bathroom had gone out and instead of changing it he'd moved downstairs, where the lights had already been switched out to a cooler white that made it easier to see what colors he was painting his skin with.

Steve Harrington was pretty sure he would die that night, all over deep red lipstick and perfectly-drawn eyeliner.

He didn't know where he was running to, all he knew was that he couldn't stay in Loch Nora. He ran until he was near the edge of town, nothing but trees and the one road leading out surrounded him. Steve hadn't had his car keys on him, and there was no way he could go back for them without facing his dad's righteous anger. Steve let out a painful cry, finding nothing left to do but lay down on the pavement and stare at the stars. He was barely eighteen, no car, no money except whatever bills were stuffed in his pocket, no plan. Just himself and that damned red lipstick still lingering like berry-stained evidence on his lips.

He didn't move for anything. Not when the night grew chilly enough to freeze his joints and prick up goosebumps on his arms. Not when the rumble of an old car engine came roaring in the distance, or for the subsequent squeal of brakes and a loud horn.

"Shit, Harrington, I know you have air for a brain but what the fuck are you do—" The person cut themselves off, like from seeing the state of him. They'd probably hit him too, kick at him while he was down because why the fuck did he think he could get away with this shit in the middle of nowhere Indiana?

"Shit, Harrington," the voice hissed again, sounding as pained as Steve thought he should feel.

"Get on with it," Steve voiced, voice rough with tears and the violent yells his dad had hit out of him.

"Get on with what?"

Steve rolled his eyes, turning his head to meet Eddie Munson's gaze. He wondered if he still painted his nails. He wondered if it even mattered, because even Eddie Munson didn't do what Steve did. "I'm tired, man. If you're gonna get your revenge on me make it quick."

That startled Eddie, reminding Steve of just how expressive the guy was. It was almost humorous, the way his head reeled back and his eyes widened impossibly far.

"Get in the van, Harrington."

Right, if Eddie was gonna murder him he couldn't do it out in the open, not where anyone could be driving by.

So Steve picked himself up from the ground, not bothering to brush off his jeans before sliding into the passenger seat. They didn't talk the whole drive. No music played. They just sat in complete and total silence, punctuated only by the nervous taps of Eddie's hand on the steering wheel.

Eddie Munson must be stupider than he was. Most murderers wouldn't drive their victim to their own trailer before finishing the job. Though, Steve supposed all Eddie had to say was that he saw Steve Harrington wearing lipstick and it'd all be waved away. Upstanding citizen, that Eddie Munson was.

"Shower's back there, there's a first aid kit on the shelf," Eddie spoke, unable to stand still once they got inside the trailer.

And that, well that was just downright weird. Steve tilted his head to the side, eyeing the little hallway Eddie waved his hand at like it might jump at him. "What's happening?"

"What do you mean?" Eddie sounded tired, like he hadn't slept in weeks. Steve felt like he'd never slept at all, like he might never again.

"You...aren't you gonna...?"

"I mean, I could if you think you're gonna fall," Eddie said nervously, eyes also watching the hallway. "Just tryin' to protect your modesty, man."

"What?" Nothing was making sense, and Steve was beginning to wonder if maybe his head had hit the tile floor one too many times because this was supposed to be simple, cut and dry.

"Can you just go clean up, Harrington?"

"Why?"

"Because I hate seeing all that damn blood on you, okay?" Eddie snapped out, voice raising in pitch the more worked up he got. "I don't know what the hell happened, but I hate it."

Oh.

"You're not...you're not gonna...?" Steve repeated, including a lackluster air punch.

That seemed to make everything click in place for Eddie. He sucked in a breath and both hands flew to the top of his head, scraping through his unruly curls. "Shit, you think? Nah, man, I'm not a piece of shit like whoever did that to you. C'mon."

Eddie started walking down the hallway, and honestly this all felt so vaguely dreamlike Steve couldn't do anything but follow, wordlessly sitting on the toilet lid where Eddie waved for him to be. The other man was knelt between his legs, wiping off his face with a wet washcloth. His touch was gentle, experienced as he wiped away the blood and set to work rubbing antibiotic onto each open cut.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Steve whispered out, eyes focused on the barest hint of eyeliner on Eddie's eyes. The other man clearly wasn't wearing it to be pretty though. No, this was drawn on with intentional haste, and made Eddie look so fucking badass that Steve didn't know what to do about it. "I sucked in school. I was awful to you."

Eddie's hands didn't stop, brown eyes focused on Steve's lips as he wiped at the split in the lower one. He could see the breath hitch in the other man's chest though, a quick collapse of Eddie's chest before his breath restarted at a normal rhythm. "You did suck, but that doesn't mean you deserve this."

Steve didn't say anything else, couldn't really. Not when the lump in his throat grew until he was sure he would never be able to breathe again, and the tears began to spill without inhibition. And Eddie, well Eddie let him. He just kept patching him up, never saying anything, never berating him or looking disgusted by the tears. He just sat with Steve while he let it out, eyes looking to Steve's every so often as if to check he was okay.

"I think something's wrong with me." The whisper sounded so loud in the tiny bathroom, echoing around and around and smacking into Steve's chest repeatedly.

"No." It was the first time Eddie seemed bothered by anything Steve said all night, fingers gripping tightly around the corner of the counter he was holding to keep himself steady. "There's nothing wrong with you."

Steve opened his mouth to say something, but Eddie cut him off. He looked Steve right in the eyes, a kind of fire lighting up in those dark brown eyes of his. "Steve Harrington, there is nothing wrong or broken or shameful about you. So you like to wear makeup, lots of guys do."

"I've never met anyone who does."

"Because you're in Bumfuck, Indiana," Eddie continued on, never sounding more passionate than he did now. It was intense, sure, but Steve had longed for someone, anyone, to say what Eddie was now. And of course it was the guy with the painted nails he'd been enraptured by years before. "Just you wait, pretty boy, there's a whole world out there with people like us."

Like us. Like us.

"C'mon, you need some sleep. We can figure out the details in the morning."

"Wait...what?"

Eddie laughed a little, shattering the heavy moment with a burst of pure warmth. He stood up and offered a ringed hand out to help Steve up despite him not needing it. Eddie's hand was cold in his own, but it felt right there.

"Try to keep up, Harrington," he teased. "If you don't mind sharing a bed, you can stay here. Us freaks have to stick together, right?"

"I mean...your uncle won't...?"

"Nah, Wayne'll love pissin' Robert Harrington off," Eddie answered coolly, "And he's cool with...everything."

And despite Steve's skepticism, he was. Wayne Munson was pretty much the greatest support anyone could ever have. His face had flashed dangerously when Steve admitted what happened, saying the world had no place for men who hit their boys (Steve wondered only briefly why the topic seemed to pain Wayne so much). And living with Eddie Munson, well, it was great. The trailer was small and Eddie kicked in his sleep, but Eddie also smiled from the second he was awake and the no place had ever quite felt like home in the way the Munson trailer did.

And the next time Steve found the courage to sit and do his makeup, it came with bright smiles instead of that old, lingering fear.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A Different Ending

written for @steddiemicrofic October

prompt: dress || wc: 350 || rating: E || tags: main character death (steve), hurt/no comfort, blood, gore, body horror, grief, s4 canon-divergence, pre-steddie

story under the cut

~~~

“Someone help me dress these!” Eddie screams over his shoulder. His hands are pressed so far into the wounds on Steve’s chest that his fingers squish against something warm and wet. Steve winces at the pressure, and more blood pours from his mouth.

Eddie turns around to find Nancy still standing behind him. She should be running to grab the gauze and bandages from Steve’s pack, tearing her clothes into strips like the last time the bats ripped him open. She shouldn’t just stand here, motionless, dread and acceptance scrawled across her face.

Robin would kill her if she wasn’t dragging Dustin away into the trailer after Nancy agreed to help Steve. Now Eddie understands– she just didn't want them to watch this.

It wasn’t supposed to go like last time. They were defenseless. Steve didn’t even have a shirt or shoes when they traversed this hellscape. But this time they wore their War Zone gear, Eddie and Robin prepped molotov cocktails, and Steve had hammered nails into a shield ’to match my bat, Robs, how cool is that?’. 

They agreed it’d be more dangerous at the trailer, so of course Steve volunteered. He’s the fighter, sword and shield. He’s the goddamn babysitter and if Dustin’s here, then so is he.

But Steve promised Eddie a date, he promised not to do anything cute. Now–

“Eds,” Steve coughs, dark red blood seeps out from between his teeth, trickling down the corners of his mouth. It soaks his hair. Out of everything, that’s what rips the first sob from Eddie’s chest. “Please, Eds, you have to go. Get them out of here.”

“No, no please, Stevie– you promised me, remember? Enzo’s, a movie at the Hawk, and a goodnight kiss.” Snot drips from Eddie’s nose into Steve’s chest wound, and he swallows the vomit that floods his mouth.

Steve chuckles, the sound so wet it gurgles. His lips are blue, his eyes unfocused. “Don’t remember promising a goodnight kiss, Munson.”

“Let a guy dream, big boy,” Eddie sobs through a fake, comforting smile.

“You’ll be in my dreams, Eddie. For always.”

[wangxianficrecs]

Chapter 66: Tenderness - Part Four, Take Two by ninehoursofsleep

Chapter 66: Tenderness - Part Four, Take Two

by ninehoursofsleep

M, <1k, Wangxian

Summary: What if Lan WangJi and Wei WuXian communicated about their feelings, putting me out of my misery? Unrealistic, right? Minor spoilers for chapter 66 of the novel. Kay's comments: Another canon-divergence where Wangxian get to confess earlier in the story and I also really loved this one. It takes place during the scene where Wangxian are hiding in the hay and are almost discovered by some farmers. Here, Wei Wuxian doesn't freeze up and instead stands his ground. Short and cute! Excerpt: Wei WuXian touched the ribbon. Finding that Lan WangJi didn’t stop him, his fingers followed its path across Lan WamJi’s temple. Lan WangJi, “Behave.” “Lan Zhan,” Wei WuXian paused. “I’m allowed.” Lan WangJi, “...” Wei WuXian continued, almost to himself, “On top of me like this, you have control. If I’m doing something inappropriate, there’s no need to save my face, you can call me ridiculous.” Lan WangJi just stared at him. For a moment, Wei WuXian really thought Lan WangJi was about to call him ridiculous. Lan WangJi, “You are allowed.”

pov wei wuxian, canon divergence, romance, kissing, ficlet, love confessions, fluff, short & sweet

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[jamiesfootball]

Beard says goodbye to Ted. He gets off the plane. He goes to Jane.

It only takes two days for him to regret it. Beard's no stranger to impulsive decisions he regrets. No sooner is he sure he wants to stay in London, that the high of the situation abandons him. Him and Jane have a fight (again). Ted's name is used as a weapon against Beard (again).

Beard leaves. He goes back to his corporate housing. Rebecca is a sentimentalist, and he's confident she hasn't given anyone the go ahead to terminate the leases on their flats yet.

(It's the hope that kills you.)

When he arrives at new-home/old-home/same-home-now, He finds someone's already let themselves in with the key he hid behind one of the bricks.

He enters the house the same way he enters most situations: with no shortage of either caution or excitement.

Both crumble to dust when he spots Teddy sitting in the dark with his head in his hands. His suitcase stands attention next to him, and Beard can't make out if he's staying or leaving.

So Beard asks, "You staying or leaving, Coach?"

Ted sniffs. He couldn't sound more waterlogged if he'd jumped out the plane into the Atlantic Ocean.

"Failed at both, I guess," Ted answers. "Got all the way to Dulles International, bought myself a ticket, and turned right back around the way I came."

Beard waits. When it seems like he might be in for the long haul, he moves to fetch the whiskey. He left a half-drunk bottle with a twenty pound note tucked under it for whoever came to clean the flat next.

Halfway across the room, the shine of moon on glass catches his eye. The bottle's snug against Ted's hip in the armchair. The bottle is empty.

Before he can ask, Ted breaks.

"I can't go home to Henry like this. I thought I could, but I can't. I can't do that to him. I don't want him to look at the way I-"

As far as unfinished sentences go, Beard would rather have lived not hearing the first part either. Ted looks up at him with a helplessness that Beard's seen in the mirror more days than he can count.

"I think I need help."

Beard's spent the better part of twenty years knowing this knock was coming. He answers the door.

"Okay then, Coach." He moves the bottle away, pulls Ted to rest against his hip, and hopes that his presence could perhaps, in this one situation, be considered an adequate remedy for anything greater.

"Let's get you help."

[raayllum]

au where finnegrin's bluffing

"No, no wait!"

The words rush out of him like water, quick and anguished, mind racing. He read the spell just once, not wanting to pay any more mind to what had been used to avenge his mother, but it'd still been burned into his brain.

"A dying breath!" he bursts, chest threatening to cave in. If Finnegrin would just turn around then—"Blood filled with hatred, and a-a unicorn horn."

Guilt and relief wage war as the captain turns to face him; the bruises on his face, the ache from the electrocution seem to hurt twice as much. Withstanding all that harm and for what? For—for Rayla, though she'd loathe it. But he can't—he can't—

Callum can't meet the pirate's eye as he swallows, admitting, "That's the dark magic you want. Just..." His chest is so tight it's hard to breathe. He manages to raise his head. It'll be worth it if Finnegrin will just—"Just let her go." His voice creaks, cracks. He's begging and they both know it.

The captain pauses, then ponders, and then grins. Then he starts to laugh, hearty and cruel.

Callum glares at him, trying to put the pieces together. He pulls at his chains. He doesn't understand, but—"What are you waiting for?" he demands. He wants to punch the man all over again, to beat him senseless and—"Tell them to let her go!"

Finnegrin wipes a tear of mirth from his eyes and then bends down, grinning. "Oh, m'boy. So gullible. Your precious elf girl was never really in any true danger."

Staring, Callum keeps struggling, but less so. The snake rattle slips down from his sleeve and into his palm for reasons he can't (or doesn't want to) explain. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, do you see her tied up?"

"No, but—"

"Can you hear her screaming?"

His ears strain. One of Finnegrin's windows is cracked open just enough to hear the constant knocking of the waves. He still wants to punch that smug sneer from just the thought of Rayla screaming off Finnegrin's stupid face. "Well no, but—"

Finnegrin sets down Bait's cage. "You were so composed overall, you know—barely even screamed. Then you saw her in pain, and well, we've discussed your little display already haven't we? Unchained and you could've taken me down easily with a spell, but no. Just nothing but pure, raw, emotion." He hefts an overdramatic sigh. "Young love, I suppose. You didn't seem to think when it came to her, and I wanted to test if that was true. If you'd give me what I wanted after all." Finnegrin adjusts his cuffs, his smirk growing. "Thought I'd try a pirate's bluff. Worked out quite nicely, wouldn't you say?"

Callum's mind is still racing, heart beating loudly in his ears as his feelings try to catch up to his mind. "Wait, so she's—"

"Safely in the brig with the rest of your little friends. For now. But if you disrespect me again, boy, we'll see just how far I have to press that on weakness to get you to cooperate. I expect you'll have an idea or two of how to track down a unicorn, won't you, once we get back to Scumport?"

Callum glowers at him, eyes burning as Finnegrin whistles while he leaves, the door thudding shut behind him.

The mage runs his thumb over the groove in the snake's rattle tail, debating.

How does he know doing dark magic a second time won't unleash Aaravos? How does he know he could make it to the others, find the others, even if he did free himself? How would they get off the ship with a storm rolling in, rain and wind lashing at the windows? A bit of water seeps onto the floor.

Callum tucks the rattle back into his sleeve.

For later, once he has the answer to his questions—because he will not let Finnegrin hurt Rayla just to get to him.

Not again.

[edgeofn1ght]

Anakin was looking forward to sleeping in his bed. Or Obi-Wan's bed. He was so exhausted it didn't really matter at this point -- he just wanted to sleep. His report to the Council thankfully took less time than he had expected, which was helped a bit by the absence of about half the members. Most notably, Obi-Wan himself. Anakin couldn't remember Obi-Wan saying he was going to be off-world when he returned, and it was very unlike him to miss a meeting if he was in the Temple.

Maybe he was at Dex's. Or maybe he had an errand somewhere else on Coruscant.

Or maybe sick or injured in the Halls of Healing. But surely the Council would have mention--

Anakin was pulled from his spiraling thoughts when a hand reached out and grabbed the voluminous sleeve of his brown cloak, pulling him behind one of the large marble columns in the Temple's great hall. Before he even knew what was happening, a pair of warm, chapped lips were being pressed against his, soft hair tickling his upper lip.

Obi-Wan pulled back, a small grin on his face and a twinkle in his blue eyes. Anakin couldn't help but return the grin.

"Master! What--"

"Hello there," he replied quietly, cupping Anakin's face in his large hands and nuzzling his cheek.

Anakin's eyes darted back and forth, looking for any fellow Jedi. It was a huge -- and surprising -- risk for Obi-Wan to take. "But master, anyone can see out here."

Obi-Wan kissed him again, then backed away reluctantly. "Yes, you're right." He straightened Anakin's cloak then his own tunic.

"What's gotten into you, Obi-Wan?" Anakin asked. He was hesitant to ask in case Obi-Wan suddenly closed himself off out of shame or guilt.

"I just missed you, that's all." He smiled, eyes softening at the corners.

If it hadn't been for the pair of younglings who walked by just then, he would have grabbed Obi-Wan himself and kissed those wrinkles he loved so well.

"I missed you, too," he smiled.

"But I'm sure you're tired," Obi-Wan said, putting a hand on Anakin's elbow to lead him away. "You can come sleep in my bed, undisturbed. I just have some reports to write up which I can do in the living area."

Sleep sounded nice, but Obi-Wan always sounded nicer. "Maybe you can disturb me a little bit... then work on your reports."

Obi-Wan chuckled as he walked faster, "Well, then we must not waste any more time."

[jessicas-pi]

it has occurred to me that it is truly preposterous that I, the Maker Of A Ridiculous Number Of AUs, have never yet played that ask game that's like "send me an ask with a character pairing and an AU and I'll write 3 sentences"

anyway, send me an ask with a character pairing (or just some characters) and an AU and I'll write probably way more than 3 sentences

[ellecdc]

Come Back, Be Here (part 2)

pt1 // pt2 // pt3 // pt4 // pt5 // pt6 // pt7 // pt8

Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 6k words

CW: mentions of past abuse/torture, amnesia, angst, hurt/comfort, use of Y/N

Synopsis: After sacrificing yourself to save your friend and Order partner James months before, you're found on the brink of death. How will Sirius react when he finally gets his love back, but you don't seem to recognize any of them? (concept inspired by Recognition by aeaean__bliss on ao3)

Sirius entered the Potter’s cottage in Godric’s Hollow the next morning with (far too many, in Lily’s opinion) bags of your things.

My girl is not going without, Red. He’d simply said. Who was she to argue?

After a restless sleep, most of Sirius’ night was spent doggedly watching your sleeping form. He couldn’t complain; he’d certainly had worst nights and he’d happily spend the rest of his nights this way if that meant keeping you around. Once Harry was up for the day according to his parents, Sirius decided to leave you in Lily’s capable hands while he retrieved some things from his flat, and picked up some personals for you from Tesco. He had left a glass of water, more pain potion and your wand which had been in the cloak you were found in on the bedside table with a note saying he'd be back soon.

He brought the bags into your bedroom – or, the spare room, he supposed – and tried to suppress the panic he felt when you weren’t in the bed where he’d last seen you this morning.

He failed though, and he did indeed panic. Apparently, the trauma of unexpectedly losing a loved one (and then getting them back much the same way) takes longer to shake than 18 hours.

Sirius noticed a shuffling sound in the bathroom, and his rational mind told him that you were simply using the washroom and he should just wait outside, or, hell, knock like a gentleman.

The other half of his brain – the one currently driving his central nervous system - was telling him to break doors down.

He decided to choose a happy medium and pulled his wand, leaning to listen against the door. When he failed to hear any more movement, he opened it slowly. He held his breath and begged his heart to stop hammering in his chest as he surveyed the room. He moved into the seemingly empty bathroom, until he turned back towards the door and saw you hiding between the open door and the wall.

“Whoa there love, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spook ya.” Sirius chuckled under his breath, holding his hands up in surrender. He tried to smile while his heart broke at the sight of the cowering girl before him.

Your hand trembled as you lowered your own wand and let out a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“No, I’m sorry, gorgeous. I should have knocked.” He countered. “You got my note?”

You seemed to shake yourself and square your shoulders.

“Yes, you had errands?” You queried as you both exited the bathroom.

“That I did!” He answered jovially. “I took care of some business and sent a note to my supervisor saying I’d be taking a leave of absence for the next while. I also went shopping.”

Sirius pulled out the bags he had set behind the couch with a flourish.

“We’ve got you lots of your own clothes now, so you won’t need to borrow from our dear Lily flower.” He said, motioning towards the tracksuit spilling over your body.

You peered into the bags, and Sirius watched excitedly as you pulled the bag he had brought from his and Remus’ flat to your lap. Please remember he begged you silently.

You gently pulled out a zippered knit jumper. Your zippered knit jumper. “This is mine.”

Sirius failed to suppress a smirk. “It’s all yours, love.”

“No.” You argued. “This is mine, it was mine. Before.” You stated clearly, holding it up in front of you. Your brows were furrowed, and Sirius tried to ignore how cute you looked.

“Ah, so it is.” He offered noncommittally

Your eyes flit between him and the sweater for a few moments, and Sirius let you ponder. Please remember.

“I loved this sweater. It was my favourite.”

Sirius hummed as if in thought. “Do you remember where you got it?”

Your left eye twitched as you scrutinized the article of clothing.

“I think,” you started, grunting as if it was hard to get out. “I think it was a gift.”

Yes, Sirius thought, you can do it baby.

“Who gave it to you?”

You actually whimpered as you dropped the jumper into your lap and clenched your forehead.

“I can’t...” You started. “It’s like I know that I know the answer, but I just can’t get it.” You muttered miserably.

“Hey, hey. That’s alright.” Sirius said, removing the sweater from your lap and replacing it with his hands. He drew circles on the backs of your hands and willed you to look at him.

He continued talking when you finally met his eyes. “You don’t have to remember right now. You’re alright.”

Your eyes jumped from each of Sirius’ grey ones as if searching for the answers you were missing. He’d gladly give you all of them if he could.

Slowly, so, so slowly, you lowered your forehead to his.

This is how Lily found you both; Sirius on his knees in front of you with your hands intertwined in your lap and your foreheads pressed together. She hated to interrupt.

“Knock, knock.” She called to the room quietly. The two of you whipped your heads to face her, both blushing as if you had been caught doing something naughty.

“Hate to interrupt Pads, but I was wondering if you could help me with something for a sec?”

Sirius turned back to you and offered you a soft smile before joining Lily in the hallway.

“Well, that looked cozy.” She teased gently which was met with a very dramatic eyeroll.

“Yeah, yeah, Red. What is it you needed.”

“I spoke with Dumbledore. I haven’t told him why yet, but I asked for a Healer – one specialized in neuropsychological practice.” She trailed off as Sirius’ eyes widened in horror.

“There’s a healer coming here. To your safe house.” He managed, feeling like he might faint.

“Well, no,” Lily muttered, “you’d have to go meet her at St. Mungo’s and then apparate her here.”

Sirius stared at what he officially considered to be his dumbest friend.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” He whispered as he grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the kitchen. “What point of in hiding or safe house don’t you understand?”

Lily ripped her arm from his grip. “Listen, Dumbledore trusts the healer, they won’t be given the address, you’ll just be escorting them. And, I want to be here for her.”

Sirius had begun tallying up counter points but deflated at the end of her sentence. Lily didn’t miss it.

“I want to be here for her.” She repeated.

Sirius sucked in a breath between his teeth and looked to the heavens for answers. The heavens had never answered him before so he wasn’t sure why he felt disappointed when they left him on his own again.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Red.”

They were joined in the kitchen by James and a miniature version of James who appeared to have just woken up as he rubbed his eyes with two pudgy hands from his father’s hip.

“There’s the prongslet!” Sirius beamed at his godson.

“Pa-foo!” The child squealed and held his arms out for him, tiredness completely forgotten.

Sirius happily took the almost-toddler and sat him on his lap.

“Alright Pads?” James queried.

“Not bad Prongs, yourself?” He responded coolly.

James grimaced at his friend’s displeasure with him but carried on making small talk while preparing breakfast for the infant.

The awkwardness was interrupted by a light knock, but it wasn’t from the front door. Lily and Sirius exchanged a look while James took Harry from Sirius’ lap.

“Y/N?” Lily called tentatively, which was answered by the bedroom door slowly opening and exposing you.

You had changed out of Lily’s tracksuit and were wearing the zippered knit jumper and a pair of green corduroy trousers that Sirius knew he bought a size or two too large but figured they could spell them smaller, and it’d be easier to let them out as you regained some weight. It appeared you had already spelled them in, and Sirius tried really hard not to stare at how good it made your arse look.

“Awe! I remember that sweater! That’s the one you bought her for her birthday; isn’t it Pads?” Lily exclaimed, causing you to pause and Sirius to blush furiously.

You watched as James smirked and Sirius looked towards you shyly.

“Did I thank you for it?” You asked as you cleared your throat and sat at the far end of the table.

Sirius coughed before he answered. “Er, yeah. Yes, you loved it.” He admitted.

“Good. It was my favourite.” You reiterated and looked to the little babbling baby in James’ lap.

“Who’s the little one? Must be yours.” You mentioned, motioning to James.  The baby was the spitting image of what you could only imagine was his father, except perhaps the eyes. He had...

“Yes, he has his mother’s eyes though.” James admitted, smiling adoringly at Lily who shared his grin and brushed a finger across the baby’s cheek.

“Y/N, this is our son, Harry. Harry James Potter.” Lily stated.

The three friends smiled at the baby at one end of the table before turning to meet your ghostly pale face of at the other end of the table, who seemed to be looking at Harry in horror.

“He’s...” you started before swallowing, “he’s Harry Potter?”

Lily and James shared a look before Lily answered with a simple “yes.”

You looked frantically at the three adults surrounding the child.

“Is this house safe?” You demanded; Sirius was almost excited at how much like your old self you sounded but was startled by how familiar this panic of yours was. The last year you had together was spent in almost a near state of it. “Who knows we’re here?”

“What’s the matter, love?” Sirius started, standing up slowly but stopping all movements when you stood as well, wooden chair grating loudly against the floor beneath you.

“Who knows the child is here? Who can get in?”

“Y/N, please, I need you to calm down and tell us what’s wrong.” Lily pleaded, approaching you with her hands up from the opposite side of Sirius who began doing the same.

“‘You-know-who’ is looking for him. The prophecy.” You stated, eyes watering as you stared at Harry in James’ arms, who had since stood from the table and had his wand pointed at you.

“James, put your wand down.” Sirius spat as his friend as he reached you and gently touched your arm.

“Who knows he’s here? Is this house safe?” You demanded again, your voice starting to sound shrill and your breathing becoming erratic.

“It’s safe love, we’re safe. It’s okay. The house is protected by the Fidelius charm. Please breathe for me.” Sirius said as he gently embraced you and pulled your head to his chest, shielding you from the aim of James’ wand with his body.

His words seemed to work, as you let out a breath and leaned into his touch. “You’re sure?” You muttered into his chest.

“I promise it’s safe, love. I’d not let you or Harry stay somewhere that wasn’t.” He said, pointedly shooting a look at James who had finally lowered his wand.  

He relished the feel of you in his arms for as long as you would allow it. Apparently, you needed it just as much, because it was a few moments before you were finally willing to pull away from his chest.

“Vix, why don’t we go play some cards?” Lily asked, holding up a deck.

You smiled and nodded, and the two of you retreated to the bedroom, Harry on his mother’s hip. The men waited until they heard the door click behind you.

“Look, mate-”

“You pointed your fucking wand at her whilst she fretted over the wellbeing of your son!" Sirius seethed at his friend.

"Sirius-”

“She is broken James. She is not dangerous, she’s scared.”

“Sirius please, I-”

“She’s fucking terrified; Lily and I can hardly touch her, she’s afraid of her own shadow. I didn’t immediately announce myself this morning and I found her hiding in the bathroom with her wand at the ready. She escaped, bloody hell knows how, but she escaped and she’s terrified. And you pointed your wand at her!”

“I’m sorry!” James finally shouted. “Sirius I’m sorry. I’m scared too. I’m scared. And honestly, I think it’s because I’m afraid I deserve it. I feel guilty, Sirius. So. Bloody. Guilty. I couldn’t sleep for months without seeing the look on her face the moment we realized she wasn’t going to make it home with me. And I didn’t sleep at all last night because I hate myself for leaving her there and I think if she could remember me, she’d probably hate me too. And she should. She should hate me. And if she did, she’d probably want me and my family dead. Okay? I’m fucking terrified and I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” James’ finished, his chest heaving as if he ran a marathon.

Sirius huffed at his friend and felt his face heat up. He angrily wiped at it and his hand came back wet – he was crying. “Fuck” He breathed and leaned over the table.

“I’m sorry.” James whispered again.

You and Lily played a few rounds of goldfish, rummy and big bertha. Lily asked you where you had learned to play these games, but all you could remember was that your friends at school taught you; though you couldn’t remember who the friends were. As the two of you played, your left eye kept twitching.

Lily was reshuffling the deck when there was a knock at the door.

“Hey girls, the healer is here.” James said through the door before gently opening it.

A kind witch who introduced herself as Healer Grundke entered the room with Sirius and James, who picked up a babbling Harry to sit out of the way.

“So,” The Healer started, having you sit at the end of the high bed with your feet hanging off of it, “We’ll start with some easy questions.”

You told the healer your full legal name, your date of birth and hometown, and your parents’ names without any issues.

“Very good,” she continued. “I’m going to continue asking questions about yourself, your life, your family and your friends. But I’m going to cast a diagnostic spell of your mind which should show us a scan of the locations of your brain that your answers are coming from, and if there happens to be anything interfering with you recalling that information. Does that sound okay?”

You nodded and the healer waved her wand above your head. Sirius watched as a scan of your brain materialized above you. Sirius thought it was beautiful, even though he had no idea what any of it meant. Lily appeared to be scrutinising it with much more authority whilst James and Harry enjoyed the look of the pretty lights.

“What does your father do?”

“He...he was an ambassador. He worked in government.”

“Was. Has he passed?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry to hear. How did he pass?”

“Heart attack.”

With every question and answer, lights flashed across your scan, signifying information entering and exiting different areas of your brain.

“And your mother?”

“Also dead.”

“How did she pass?”

“Car accident.”

“How old were you when she passed?”

“Fifteen.”

“Do you have any siblings?”

“Half siblings, from my mother’s first marriage. They both chose to stay with their father in Canada when she relocated.”

“Where did you attend school?”

“Hogwarts.”

“Which house were you in?”

More flashes appeared on the scan.

You chuckled before giving her your answer.  

The healer averted her eyes from the scan to your face. “What makes you laugh about that?”

“I was a hat stall.”

“Were you really?” The question comes from James, which earned him a nudge from Lily.

“Yes. It was humiliating.” You said with a smirk.

“What caused the stall?” Sirius asked, though he already knew.

You looked up and to the left as you recalled your sorting ceremony experience.

“The hat probably would have thrown me into Slytherin immediately had I not been muggle-born. Small mercies that, I suppose. I wasn’t quite outgoing or extroverted enough to be placed in the house of the brave, though I had a strong sense of justice. Loyalty was one of my biggest attributes, but I wasn’t always very kind or thoughtful with my words. I wasn’t extremely bookish or the academic type, but I was witty. Apparently, I was a real mystery.”

The healer smirked at that.

“That you are, dear.”

You smiled kindly at the healer.

“Okay, where were we? Ah yes, what was your favourite class in school?”

“Hmm...”

Sirius smirked. My little swot. Can’t even choose a favourite class after all these years.

“Probably charms, or transfiguration. I really enjoyed care of magical creatures as well. Arithmancy and alchemy felt familiar and came easily to me because they reminded me of muggle maths and chemistry. I think...”

You trailed off as the scan turned an angry colour for a minute before it settled back down.

The healer looked at the scan and asked again.

“You liked charms, transfiguration, care of magical creatures, arithmancy, alchemy and...”

The scan moved again, and even Sirius could notice that a flash of light was trying to travel a path between two memories, but one appeared to be wrapped up inside of a silver-coloured orb, which caused the light that had been travelling to it to splinter and disperse.

“And, I think, uhm,” You tried again as your left eye started twitching. “I enjoyed astronomy.” You finished on an exhale.

“Astronomy.” The healer clarified.

“Uhm,” You thought again, “yes, I liked astronomy.”

“Did it cause physical pain to recall that information?”

“Yes.”

Sirius and Lily exchanged a glance.

“Where did it hurt?”

You sighed, “the pain seems to stay primarily behind my left eye. If I try too hard it becomes a pulsing pain that seems to circulate around my skull. I’m sorry I can’t explain it better.”

“No apologies necessary, this is very helpful.”

The healer was quiet for a moment while she looked through the notes.

“Okay, do you remember graduating from Hogwarts?”

You thought for a moment before responding. “I remember that I did graduate, but I don’t remember the day.”

“And what did you do after graduation?”

“I moved in with friends.”

“Who did you live with?”

The scan flashed again.

“I don’t know.” You admitted.

“Did you work?”

“I remember working. I remember fighting.”

“But...” The healer pushed.

“But I cannot remember for whom or with who was working nor fighting.”

The healer was quiet for a moment.

“Y/N, can you look at Sirius for me please.”

Your gaze moved and you held eye contact with Sirius.

“Think of a memory with him.” You were instructed.

A light travelled in the lower left scan unaffected.

“Can you describe the memory?”

A faint blush appeared on your cheeks.

“I thought of how he held me this morning, after an argument in the kitchen.” You admitted.

Sirius’ heart thumped in his chest. When asked for a memory of him, you thought of being held in his arms. I’m one hell of a lucky man.

 “Very good. Now, Sirius, can you ask her about a memory from before she went missing?” The healer in structed.

Sirius thought for a moment.

“Do you remember when we got into a fight, and you charmed my hair pink and wouldn’t reverse it until I announced in front of the entire Great Hall that I was wrong and you were smarter than me?”

Your scan flashed violently as the healer and your friends watched a light travel along a path towards the same large silver orb as before. As soon as the light met the orb, it splintered. You winced.

“Okay, alright. Now, look at Lily please.”

You looked back up at your red-headed friend as your left eye stopped twitching. The red head offered a gentle smile in return.

“Think of a memory with Lily.”

Again, they watched as a light travelled along a path on your scan completely uninterrupted.

“What was your memory?”

“She made me tea and served it the way that I like.”

“When was this?”

“Yesterday – last night. I don’t know what time.”

“Very good,” the healer said, looking at her notes. “Now Lily, can you tell her a memory of you two from before?”

Lily smirked. “What about the time we skived off prefect rounds to go skinny dipping in the Black Lake after we caught McLaggen cheating on me?”

The scan flashed violently again as the light travelled to an orange-coloured orb and splintered upon impact.

“I see...” The healer stated, more to herself than anyone else.

“Healer Grundke, what is it that we’re seeing?” Lily asked finally. Sirius was thankful someone else voiced it, he was sort of intimidated by this woman if he was being honest.

“Well, I can’t be sure yet, but I have a hypothesis. Perhaps we can test it out.” She turned to the other three adults in the room. “Do any of you know how to occlude?”

James shook his head and Lily grimaced, but Sirius nodded his head. “I can’t say I’m extremely good at the practice, but I have some experience.”

“That’ll do, Sirius. Can you please sit beside Y/N here?”

Sirius smirked “I would love nothing more, m’lady.” He said in a sultry voice and winked at you. You rolled her eyes at him. Oh my Godric! We’re making progress!

Sirius propped himself on the bed entirely closer to you than was strictly necessary, but he couldn’t really be blamed, he was after all just a man.

The healer walked across the room and picked up a small picture frame from the fire mantle. She looked at Sirius to ensure he was watching her and threw it across the room where it hit the wall and smashed to the ground.

“We were all thinking it, and she just does it.” James murmured to himself, earning him a kick in the shin from his wife.

The healer walked back over to Sirius and pulled up a matching scan of his brain above him. He was astonished to see how different his scan looked compared to yours. Your lights travelling the paths were a warm yellow, while his were red. The thoughts and paths were also organized differently.

“Okay Sirius, please recall the memory of what you just saw me do.”

Sirius did as he was asked, and the healer watched his scan as the red light travelled a set path before she used her wand to mark where the light travelled to.

“Thank you, now occlude that memory from your mind for me.”

Sirius closed his eyes in concentration. Occlusion didn’t come as naturally to him as it had to his younger brother Regulus, possibly because Sirius never much felt like keeping his thoughts to himself anyways. He preferred to anger his parents by voicing his thoughts and opinions, whilst Regulus found comfort in keeping those locked away. Nevertheless, Sirius understood that sometimes one needed to lock some thoughts away, what with his psychopath cousin Bellatrix and her love for Legillimency. It was also one of the only ways Sirius survived his time at Grimmauld before he finally left for good in the summer between 5th and 6th year. Sirius boxed up this memory of the healer smashing the picture frame in his mind and slowly opened his eyes, keeping the memory in its box.

Sirius’ eyes fell to Lily who looked astonished. He took a peak up to his scan where the healer had erased her mark and exposed a purple-coloured orb that sat in its place.

“Is that...Is that the memory?” He asked under his breath, hardly believing what he was seeing.

“I believe it is.” She answered.

The room sat in silence for a few moments before Lily broke it.

“So, are you suggesting that the orbs present in Y/N’s scans are areas of occlusion?” Lily asked scrutinizing the scan above her friend’s head.

“I believe it is Lily. My current theory is that your friend has occluded memories associated with those closest to her.”

“But she remembered her parents, and siblings.” James interjected from the far side of the room.

“But they didn’t need protecting.” Lily exhaled, looking wide-eyed at her friend.

“Exactly.” The healer said, clearly impressed with the thought process of Lily Evans Potter as well as her own work here today.

“So let me get this straight.” James stated, standing up with a baby in his arms and joining everyone else in the centre of the room. “Y/N has buried her memories of us - her friends and Order members - so deep inside her brain that even she can’t access them in order to keep them safe against...”

“Against people willing to use torture, Legillimency, or other nefarious means to get information. Yes James, exactly.” Sirius finished James’ thought bluntly, staring at his friend with a blank face.

“So, what you’re saying is I’m a total arse.” He concluded.

“Yes, and we have it on a healer’s authority too.” Lily agreed, winking at Sirius.

Sirius glanced up at his scan and noticed the box surrounding his memory fading. The occlusion was wearing off.

“But look, the protection of the memory has worn off now that I’m not focused on protecting it. As far as we know, Y/N isn’t even aware that she is protecting memories. Why is it different?” He asked the healer.

“I'm aware that there are protected memories, I’m just not actively trying to do it.” You countered.

“I have to admit, I’ve not seen anything quite like this before myself.” The healer admitted. “It would appear that whoever or whatever you were trying to protect these memories from required more than a temporary solution.”

“Will she be able to resurface the buried memories?” Lily interjected.

“I believe so. There’s very little that magic can’t undo,” She started as she waved her wand with a quick reparo to the picture frame and the sheet rock that the picture frame hit. “I suspect once she begins to relax and feel safe in her surroundings, this underlying sense of needing to protect the memories will dissipate.”

The room stayed quiet for a few moments; Sirius looked over at you as you fiddled with your hands in your lap. He wished so badly he could jump inside your brain and know what you were thinking. How did this all make you feel?

“I feel a pull,” You started quietly. “When I’m trying to recall a memory, or someone tries to remind me of something. It’s as if someone is pulling at rocks that have been tightly wedged into a crack in the wall. Sometimes they wobble or crumble a bit. Hurts like hell for a minute but, I don’t think it’s impossible.”

The healer hummed in acknowledgement. “It seems that patience and time will be the answer then. It is likely a good thing that your memories don’t all come flooding back in at once. That’s bound to be very painful, both physically and emotionally.”

The room collectively nodded at her words.

“Healer Grundke, could you show me the spell for this scan? It appears that the grey orb is Y/N’s memories of Sirius, and when she tried to recall her memory with me in school, it went to this orange orb. I think we’d be able to help her with some memories if we understood more how they were being organized.” Lily asked.

The healer stared at Lily for a long moment. “It would be my pleasure, dear.” She took a few minutes to show Lily who practiced the incantation over James’ head. “You know, after this war, you’d have quite the career as a healer.”

Lily’s face lit up to the colour of her hair as she stared abashedly at the healer. “Thank you, healer Grundke, that’s quite a compliment.”

The healer smiled kindly at Lily and patted her shoulder, “You give me a call when you’d like to chat more.”

The adults shared some goodbyes as the healer wished you a speedy recovery and Harry babbled absolute nonsense with his slobbery fist waving at everyone.

“Y/N, I owe you one hell of an apology.” James started once Sirius returned from escorting the healer back to St. Mungo's. “Actually, I owe you many apologies, but I want to start with how I treated you this morning.”

Sirius, who was still feeling petulant over the matter, scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. You, on the other hand – the beautiful angel that you are – smiled kindly at your friend despite Sirius’ demeanour.

“That’s alright, James. I don’t think I’d trust myself much either.” You looked back down at your hands. “Someone who’s been held by Death Eaters shows up unannounced and conveniently can’t remember a thing? That’s not suspicious at all.” You laughed wryly.

James seemed appeased by your words, but Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s you babe, you’re not suspicious.”

You looked at Sirius very intensely before responding. “But how much of me is left here, Sirius? Do you recognize me? The person I was?”

Sirius stuttered. “Well, yeah. I mean, love, you’re still in there.”

You grimaced and returned your glance to your hands.

“Who is someone without their memories? Their experiences? Those things make a person. I’m nothing more than a shell.” You admitted quietly.

“Oh, honey.” Lily said as she walked back into the room, having put Harry down for a nap. “You haven’t forgotten everything, just us.” You laughed at the deprecation. “And we’re not gone completely, see?” She paused as she pulled your scan back up. She pointed at the orange orb. “There’s me, and there’s this oaf.” She pointed at the grey orb as she nodded towards Sirius who scoffed.

“And tell me, do you remember when James convinced you to set Snape’s robes on fire in 5th year?” She asked and watched as a light travelled towards a red orb before splintering. “See, right here, there’s James!”

“Did I really light his robes on fire?” You asked quietly, looking at James.

“You sure did beautiful; I don’t think I’ve ever been more proud of anyone ever in my entire life. Until the day Lily gave birth to our pride and joy of course, but that day still remains a very close second.” He proclaimed. Sirius chuckled and Lily rolled her eyes.

“See? We’re still in there, and we still make up quite a significant portion of your mind, which makes you, you. You’re still here, and we’ll help you get it all back.” Lily finished.

You smiled at your friend with a loving gaze, and Sirius already felt a step closer to the you that had been buried – literally - this past year.

“Were you really with Death Eaters the whole time you’ve been gone?” Sirius asked quietly, afraid of the answer.

Surprisingly, your scan flashed violently, and lights travelled toward two orbs – one black and one green – on the opposite side of the scan. “Yes, I was kept mostly at the Lestrange Manor.” You admitted.

Sirius shuddered. His bat-shit crazy cousin, her husband and her brother-in-law were not ideal hosts for even an afternoon tea, let alone for the past few months.

“You had allies?” Lily whispered, eyes not moving from the green and black orbs on her scan.

“Allies? With Death Eaters?” James asked incredulously.

“James.” Sirius warned, putting his arm behind you protectively.

“James, don’t start.” Lily added. “Look, she’s alive which is more than any of us ever expected. That is thanks to someone, seeing as she had life-ending injuries the last anyone saw her. Plus, I don’t remember her being well-versed in occlumency while she fought with the Order, do you?” She asked the two men who both shook their heads.

“No, so that means, someone taught her. Someone knew she had people to protect and then they helped her do so.” She added and watched again as lights travelled to the two orbs before fizzing out.

Sirius looked over at you as you rubbed none-to-gently at your temples. He leaned into you and placed his forehead against your shoulder.

“Why don’t we call it a day, hm?” He asked as he drew circles against your back. He could feel you nod your ascent.

“Dumbledore called an Order meeting tonight, five o’clock.” James reminded the room. “Gives you guys about three hours for a nap.”

“That might be good, yeah? You can see everyone again, maybe it’ll help jog your memory.” Lily offered and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah.” You breathed out without looking up.

“Okay, that’s it. You two, out.” Sirius said pointed at Lily and James. “It’s nap time for Princess here.”

“’M not a princess.” You muttered causing Lily and James to chuckle.

“Who said I was talking about you, gorgeous? Now out, out!” He quite literally shooed the other two adults out of the room (in their own house, mind you) and closed the door behind them. He turned to face you as you sat on the bed looking at him with a cheeky smile.

“What’s that look for?” He asked as innocently as Sirius Black could manage.

“If you wanted a nap so bad, you could have just said so Princess.” You said, smirking at him.

“I have no shame; I’m willing to admit I am a Princess and would love a nap.” He peeled his jumper off and watched as you moved up to the head of the bed and laid down on the right side. Sirius felt a crack in his chest at the sight of you curled up there; that was the side of the bed you always took when you moved in together. Without thinking, Sirius shifted into Padfoot and leapt onto the bed, curling up on the opposite side. He was startled by a sharp laugh.

“No way.”

Padfoot turned to you and tilted his head.

“I remember Padfoot.” You said. The large black dog could feel both of his ears pop up as he let out a whine. Remembers. Remembers good dog.

“He was always such a pain in my ass.” You muttered with a smirk as you pulled the throw blanket over your body. Padfoot’s chest rumbled, am not pain, am good dog. You heard what could only be described as a doggy scoff as you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Continue to part three here.

[mirrorofliterature]

after they are tossed out of a plane somewhere over china, alejandro turns to face courtney, deflated.

the game is up.

his mask has been shattered, obliterated. his dreams of his parents ever loving him? lost to oblivion.

'what happens now?'

courtney looks at him, gaze narrow and calculating.

of course, she does not like him.

no one ever likes him, particularly not the real alejandro, rough and caustic and too much -

'we go to stay with everyone else who has been eliminated.'

'ah.' alejandro swallows, mouth bitter.

back to everyone who hates him.

is it better that it is people he only knows superficially, rather than the family that is supposed to love him but never has?

courtney shrugs, deceptively nonchalant. 'they didn't like me after last season. they probably still don't. you'll live.'

'right,' alejandro says.

if there is one thing alejandro knows to live with, it is people not liking him, not loving him.

especially the real him.

they trek to the meeting point in silence.

loss hanging over their heads, in more ways than one.

alejandro, the perpetual loser.

it's fine. it's not like he needed his parents' love anyway.

[ficfinder-general]

Heyo I have a very broad ask that I, myself cannot properly find

Just Ahsoka being Obi-wans padawan with codywan on the side

Cody and Ahsoka being besties is also greatly appreciated

Hi,

I'm so so sorry about the late reply, I totally forgot about this ask, it was buried in my drafts. I can't recall many fics like this, but I've been trying to put together a tiny list.

Ahsoka as Obi-Wan's padawan

Handle with care by K_R_Closson - Qui-Gon survives & Stewjoni have wings in this AU, which makes for some interesting worldbuilding. BUT to be fair, this is more codywan with taking Ahsoka as a padawan on the side but it does happen this also happens later on, so minor spoiler alert Rated M (mostly for language, though, if I recall correctly), 75k, completed, fix-it

Bitter Dregs by Livsy - AU in which Anakin goes undercover during the Rako Hardeen arc. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan grieve and try to move on. Bonus small moment between Ahsoka and Cody, 5.6k long one shot

Alpha-17 Would Like A Fucking Break by BitterChocolateStars (@bitter-chocolate-stars) another AU in which Qui-Gon survived. It's told from Alpha-17's POV which makes it h i l a r i o u s but also both codywan and Ahsoka-as-Obi-Wan's-padawan are on the side. 15k long one shot, fix-it.

Careless to let it fall by Artemisdesari - This one is ongoing and pretty long already (140k atm!), and to be perfectly honest, I haven't read all of it yet, but I like it so far, and Ahsoka does become Obi-Wan's padawan :)

Cody & Ahsoka

At cuyir payt nor'be by onepageatatime715 - a ficlet, Ahsoka is looking for Obi-Wan but finds Cody, very sweet :)

[drawyourbow]

HEY GONE FANDOM !!! i wrote a fic :3

it’s a shortish gone au set during HUNGER where the famine was worse, and sam had to make a hard choice to feed the people

if u want u should check it out yayayyay

ao3 link:

[cricketnationrise]

Your banner of “shut up, shut all the way up!!” Makes me laugh every time so may I humbly request: 8:00 pm, the red room, Alex and Henry, no songs for vibes but how about if they didn’t get interrupted? I’m down for all the spice but it’s up to you my dear!!

Ao3-royalhearthuff

i'm glad you laugh, that's one of my favorite quotes from the book its just so perfectly alex. i am SO DOWN for your prompt its ridiculous. have some canon-adjacent making out for your sunday afternoon.

read the rest of the ficlets here

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

8:00pm, red room

Alex might legitimately be going insane — it’s the most likely explanation for how fucking good it feels to be making out with Henry. And they definitely are making out, not just kissing; there’s nothing remotely polite about the way Alex shoved Henry against the wall, nothing PG about Henry’s hands in his hair and clutching his ass. Every rattle of the portrait against the wall as Henry arches into Alex’s touch drives Alex even wilder. The weight of Henry’s leg around his waist might as well be one of those safety bars for a roller coaster — keeping Alex in the moment, on this ride as he and Henry go through loops and twists and down steep hills.

Alex has been breaking apart since January; only Henry’s lips on his, only Henry’s body pressed close, is keeping Alex in one piece now. Each kiss, each thrust of hips, each new place Alex’s hand lands lights a firework inside his mind. He’s really here — in the fucking Red Room, with a party full of diplomats just down the hall — with Henry. 

Henry, who he would have sworn on his mother’s election that he hated just a few months ago. 

Henry, who kissed him under the linden tree and tilted Alex’s axis completely askew.

Henry makes a low noise against Alex’s mouth and Alex drops a hand to Henry’s thigh. He squeezes the hard muscles beneath his fingers reflexively, rewarded with a gasp so thin it’s almost a whimper. Alex can practically feel Henry’s pulse through his suit and he moves his hand higher, closer to the bulge in Henry’s suit pants. Henry’s hand slips out of Alex’s hair (the one on his ass stays firmly in place) and slams down on Alex’s hand, his nails digging in sharply.

Alex stops moving, pulls back just enough to meet Henry’s eyes. They’re both breathing heavily, mouths less than an inch apart. Henry’s eyes are wide in surprised pleasure. Alex slides his free hand inside Henry’s suit jacket, finds the dip of Henry’s waist as if it’s fucking magnetized.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” Alex says, proud of how steady his voice is when he feels so wrecked. 

“Don’t.”

That one word is enough to make Alex’s dick twitch in his pants. He’s captivated by Henry’s flushed cheeks; wonders how far down that blush goes.

“Gonna need you to stop trying to draw blood then,” he murmurs between sucking kisses down Henry’s neck. Henry exhales more shakily than a house of cards built on Jell-o salad, but relaxes the hand trapping Alex’s.

Alex flexes his hand to get some feeling back into it before resuming his task. He brings his lips to Henry’s, kissing him hard, as he finally gets his hand on Henry’s cloth-covered cock. Henry straight up groans into Alex’s mouth and bucks his hips into Alex’s hand, seeking more contact, more friction, just—

“More, Alex, please—”

Alex manages to get Henry’s pants open quickly, only fumbling when Henry nips behind his ear. He doesn’t waste any time working a hand inside Henry’s briefs, wrapping around Henry’s cock; it feels fucking perfect in his hand. Henry pushes into Alex’s grip, establishing a rhythm that matches his racing heart. Henry’s desperation drives Alex wild.

He crowds Henry even closer to the wall, chuckling darkly at the rattle of Hamilton’s frame, and stills Henry’s hips with an arm across his abs.

“Let me.”

“Get on with it, then,” Henry pleads, eyes closed, sweat beading at his hairline, so fucking stunning, and Alex is more than happy to oblige.

It takes Alex a second to find the right angle, but once he does, he starts jacking Henry with fucking intent. Sure, he jerked Liam off, but that was years ago, and he was pretty drunk. This time, he’s stone cold sober — too jumpy during dinner to handle a wine glass. This time, he’s practically on fire from the feel of broad shoulders and strong thighs beneath his hands. This time, it’s Henry — and that, apparently, changes everything.

There’s enough precome leaking from Henry’s cock to make Alex’s strokes smooth, and he wants to record the wet noises for goddamn posterity — proof that he’s the one making Henry feel good, pulling Henry toward his orgasm. Alex doesn’t know what words would spill from his lips if he took them off Henry’s (he’s pretty sure there would be more terms of endearment than he’s comfortable acknowledging), so he doesn’t. He keeps his mouth fused to Henry’s, exploring with his tongue and catching Henry’s moans and hitching breaths before they echo through the room.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Alex knows they’re running out of time. Amy told him five minutes and every second past that is borrowed time. He speeds up his hand and now both of Henry’s legs are around Alex’s waist, caging him in. Alex lets Henry’s hips move as they want to, desperate to get Henry’s hair between his fingers. It’s just as soft as he imagined, so you know, fuck him.

“Christ,” Henry moans against Alex’s lips, “close—”

“C’mon, sweetheart. Do it, come on—”

Henry does, with a whimper that would be a scream if Henry wasn’t clamping his lips shut. Alex gentles his hand, letting Henry come down before detangling their limbs.

“Wait, I can—”

Alex cuts him off. “No time, we’re pushing it already.”

“But, I—”

“You are going to be at least five hundred feet away from me for the rest of the night or I won’t be responsible for my actions. And then you’ll come to my bedroom and return the favor and then some and if you fucking ghost me again, I’ll have you put on a fucking no-fly list, got it?”

“Got it.”

Alex takes a few steps back, straightens his own suit and moves to the door with a last wink at Henry. He sees Henry’s blush get stronger before he slips out and shuts the door behind him with a grin.