#don't care about the world | Nicholas Scratch

[thenightmareofyourdrems]

                   ˜”*°•.      Encountering anyone  at  this  moment  was  far  from  ideal.  But  to  cross  paths  with  a  demon,  of  all  beings?  There  were  certainly  far  more  pleasant  ways  he  could  have  spent  his  day. Still ,  he  didn’t  miss  the  opportunity  to  offer  one  of  the  most  scornful  smirks  he  could  have  possibly  achieved .  If  she  wanted  to  play , well … then  so  be  it.   ❝ I  don’t  usually  say  hi  to  pests. ❞  Tone  that  echoed  as  disdainful  as  the  words  being  spoken.  However,  to  claim  that  he  wasn’t  curious  about  what  was  happening ?  It’d  be  a  horrible  lie .    ❝ I  doubt  you  came  on  holidays,  so  what  is  it  that  you  want ? ❞ 

@duskhued | Continual from here

[fakeagatha]

Made from Scratch | Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal & Nicholas Scratch

A/N: I haven't written anything like this before but I really enjoyed it. Here's an alternative scene of Nicky's birth for you!

Summary: Rio arrives just in time for the birth of her son.

Word Count: 701 Warnings: Birth, Blood

Salem, 1750

Loud footsteps and crunching leaves were heard, as Agatha Harkness stumbled her way through the forest to the river that she found the most peace in. She sat under a tree, panting, holding her stomach protectively.

Her water had broken just as she had finished stealing the powers from her new founded "coven". Panic filled her, and all she could think about was getting herself, and her soon to be born baby, somewhere safe.

She yelped in pain, sweat dripping down her forehead as she struggled. Her eyes shot up at a sudden sound of a twig snapping, giving the mysterious person a look that could kill.

The figure came out of the trees, and Agatha's face washed over with relief.

"My love, he's almost here!" Agatha cried out, and her wife, Rio Vidal, approached her, sitting down in front of her.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be here sooner. I had to take care of some duties." She says, guilt filling her eyes as she met Agatha's forgiving gaze. "I'm here now, I promise."

The purple witch was unable to hold eye contact for long, as the pain got worse, which she didn't know would be possible in that moment. Sure, her magic has no limits, but one thing that she had promised to herself and her wife, was that no magic was going to be involved in any of her pregnancy.

She gripped Rio's hand tightly, screaming in pain as she pushed. Her cries of agony soon turned into tears of joy at the arrival of her crying son. 

Agatha held him in her arms, and Rio sat next to her, at a loss for words at the beautiful sight.

Agatha looked over to her wife, and smiled. "He looks like you, my love."

Rio's heart swelled, unable to pry her eyes away from her baby.

"Nicholas..." Rio muttered, looking back at Agatha, who was wiping away her tears.

"He was made from scratch..." She replied, "We did it... We created him." 

Agatha used her magic, and created a soft, gray cloth, and handed it to Rio, who walked over to the river and soaked it. She squeezed out some of the water and bent down again, carefully cleaning the blood off of Nicholas' face and body, then moved on to attempt to clean Agatha.

"He's perfect..." Rio smiled, her eyes tearing up again, as she sat down, sharing a passionate kiss with Agatha, though she suddenly paused. She took off her green cloak, and gently wrapped it around the newborn, to keep his body protected from the cold.

Agatha leaned her head on Rio's shoulder, before the green witch spoke up.

"You chose to bring life, to the place we met." Rio whispered, looking up at Agatha lovingly, who nodded.

"If I were to bring the life I love most into this world, I choose to do it in the place I love dearly." Agatha muttered back, supporting Nicholas' head against her chest.

Rio pulled her in for another kiss, running her hands through her hair, looking down at her son again when they parted.

"Would you like to spend the first night with him here?" Agatha asked softly, as not to disturb Nicholas.

Rio nodded, taking out a tapestry and laying it on the grass under the tree. Agatha carefully laid down, holding the baby closely as Rio took out a knitted blanket and covered the two with it. She took out two of her cloaks, and folded them up to use as pillows for her and her wife. 

She got under the blanket next to the pair, wrapping her arm around Agatha for warmth, who sighed in content. Rio had never seen Agatha move so cautiously, and so delicately up until the moment she held her son.

"You should get some rest, okay?" Rio whispered, looking as the newborn started to fall asleep already.

"Okay..." Agatha said hesitantly, making herself comfortable. "You should sleep too." She added, looking up at Rio.

"I will, and don't worry. He'll be safe, I'll make sure of it." 

Rio pulled Agatha closer to her, watching as sleep had already overtaken her exhausted body. She stayed awake for a little while longer, wanting to make sure that nothing could harm them, until the tiredness took over her as well.

"Sleep well, my darlings."

[thatsmybook]

I wonder if Nicholas Scratch has a reputation in the witch world as being one that leads witches to their deaths. This could be why he is associated with the Darkhold or being an agent of Mephisto. "Old Scratch" or "Mr Scratch" is traditionally another word for the devil. This is Nicky's lasting known legacy in the world.

The truth is even worse. Yes, a child from birth was used to lure witches to their deaths when they gave in to their empathy for him and let their guard down. He was made to do this by his mother, even before he knew what he was doing. Nicky is the cause of and surrounded by death all of his life, and when he is able to understand what he is doing, he does it to make his mother happy.

Then, once he is dead, his mother uses the song he made with her out of love to lure even more vulnerable women to their deaths.

Nothing about Nicholas's life or legacy is good. Agatha made it that way. She did not do it maliciously to taint who Nicky was because she didn't care about the opinions of others. (Although she lets them believe a different story because her real story is too awful, so she must care a little). She knew he was a good soul, and that is all that matters to her. But she does know that when he was old enough to understand, he did not like that they were murdering witches together. His opinion is the only one she cares about. So she can not face him. Tellingly, she does nothing to change her ways in order to potentially be redeemed by him were she ever to meet him. Instead, she doubles down and carries on.

When Death calls her a coward, it makes me think she means this: she is too cowardly to do the work to change. To come to terms with the trauma she experienced with the first witches, she called family. To move beyond them and not treat all witches like they are her original coven. All witch-kind get punished for her original coven's actions. She tells Nicky witches will kill them so they have to kill them first. She's had 70 years before his birth and hundreds of years after to know that that is not true and to find a coven that will help her with her unique type of power and not judge her. To make her own found family of people who will understand and guide her to learn control of her succubus powers. To find witches like Billy who will trust her and willingly give her power. To then find witches who will feed, heal, protect her and her son and divine their future. She is over 70 years old when she gives birth to Nicky. She's had time. What does she choose to do with the time she's had at that point? Kill so many witches that she attracts Death and Death's love. What does she choose to do with the time Death gives her with Nicky? Make the beauty of his life and creativity about death and destruction.

As Death said during her trial with the spirits: she is scared. She was not scared of her mother as much as she was scared of Nicky showing up to punish her. When he does show up, he implores her to stop.

Her grieving stage is stagnant at anger and at times, shame. She occasionally shows signs of the acceptance stage when she whispers "sometimes boys die", and when she draws in Death's power during their kiss of death. Unlike every other person who walked the witches road (all who went there willingly knowing it was dangerous and deadly (apart from Sharon) but willing to face their trails and do the work to gain acceptance), Agatha walked the road knowing she would not be making any changes.

Her journey continues on in ghost form. And this is the dissatisfaction one feels with her at the end of the show. She has moved the needle ever so slightly by deciding to guide and love a boy who knows her yet accepts her. But she sees the road as a con the same way that she saw tarot as a con, and she won't use them as tools to finally complete her arc. The reason the other witches aren't ghosts is because they don't have unfinished business. Agatha knew she had unfinished business and that becoming a ghost was her likely future. She made a calculated move.

I prefer Billy as the witch that Agatha is going to coven up with more than Wanda. Wanda is a very traumatised witch and the two of them together would not have helped each other. Billy has come from a loving family with a therapist mum. He has a stable relationship with someone who fully accepts him. He has a strong moral compass and is interested in Agatha's ability to feel over her reputation as an evil person. So the road ahead for Agatha could be one where she works for and gets the solace she needs.

[full-of-mercy]

❛  come on, are you serious?  ❜ @forgivenpunishment

Five-word sentence starters | accepting but slow

"Yeah, I'm serious. Sit the hell down and look straight ahead," Nicholas gripes at his compatriot. His scowl is at once impatient and knowing, and maybe just a little bit amused.

Okay, a lot amused as he snaps out what amounts to a tattered pillowcase to drape over Nick's shoulders, tucking the thin cloth just a bit into the collar of his shirt. It isn't exactly a proper barber's setup, but they are indoors and out of the blowing sand, and they must take what they can get.

Next up is the grooming kit. He unrolls it on the nearby counter, deep brown worm leather burnished and scratched with time and use—an artifact from another world. One that no longer exists as it was. Funny how that works out. Whether for his weapons or for his affectations, Nicholas cares for his tools. The shears and straight razors are sharp, stropped, polished. The comb is clean, as are the bristle brushes for shaving, everything in its place.

"You were the one complainin' about your hair," Nicholas demonstrates with a quick ruffle and a quicker grin, darting back to avoid reprisal.

Just within arm's reach he pauses, fingertips pressed to the sleeves holding the blades. It might be a matter of trust. "If you don't want me to do it, I'll grab Blondie."

[sixty-billion]

"Ehehehe—"

It's an offhand, almost nervous giggle that Wolfwood will likely recognize as a reflex born of something else entirely. Even though their worlds are different, even if the Vash Nick knew seemed far more reserved and far less angry, some threads run parallel, woven into the fabric between realities.

He can think and he can feel, even if he sometimes wishes that he could not, that he could just turn it off and hide away from it all. That would be so much easier, that escape from rational consideration; he does and he does not want that, by degrees, and it continues to be a struggle. He can hate and he can love, and he does—he does, vehemently, sometimes at the same time, and it gets him into so much trouble. He tries, tries to be good, even if he fails. He tries. Tries to be compassionate, because people deserve as much.

What happened to Wolfwood, this Wolfwood, is his fault in the end. Knives, Knives's organization… he must take a moment to swallow his helpless, reckless rage about it. More than a moment. Maybe another eighty-odd years will be enough time.

But this…

This here and now isn't all terrible. Not in the slightest. It's hard to be dissatisfied with the progress of fingers through his hair, the keenly dexterous rasp of nails against his scalp. It is both a sensation and a sound, soft and raspy through his skull and into his brain, tingling long and low and electric down his spine. He feels it, feels the tension in his shoulders and neck slacken, feels himself spreading out his posture on the floor for a more complete lean.

And then there's the matter of thrumming on each inhale and each exhale. Purring.

He is an expert at avoiding discussions of deeper feelings, sure, but he does not want to tuck tail and run just now.

"Mm, maybe I ought to call you the good boy here," he murmurs, then blinks as he realizes just what it is he's said out loud. Well. He'd better own it then. "Keeping me out of trouble and all…"

Reopening his eyes he peers up to Nick's face, tilting his head into the curve of scratching fingers and skewing his own hair without any real care for his pomade. From sun and wind and wear there isn't much residue left, leaving softer strands and their natural loft, now thoroughly ruffled.

With the sibilant creak of leather and quiet rattle of buckles he rises up on his knees, still poised between Nicholas's. His cooler prosthetic remains splayed out over the undertaker's scars, as if guarding against any further hurt memory might dredge up. If anything, Vash can commiserate with phantom pains (and missing people, and the hollow ache it all leaves behind), and distraction helps. Distracting one another. What a novelty.

Swiping his flesh and blood thumb against Nick's cheek, he leans closer. "I don't know what I would have done, stuck out there in this—"

Oh, that is a timely window-rattling rumble of thunder. Or is that the wind? Maybe a bit of both.

He lets his hand flow past, fingertips filtering from cheek to temple to hair and then—

"—all by my lonesome and all."

—Vash reaches behind Wolfwood, plucking up the swing-top of honeyjack for a luxurious, burning sip and a throaty hum before he offers the bottle out. "It sounds like you have ideas."

Yeah—they all are just kind of like that.

Panic now subsided, the pain of Nick's most recent mark fades. His hand relaxes on Vash's, holding it more gently now. He's not afraid of Vash leaving anymore; he can't control whether it happens or not. If the man wants to trudge off into the typhoon on his own, that's his choice. Hell, if Vash wants to go get his own room and get away from him, he'd be alright with that too.

...But then Vash settles. It's okay.

He's been told a lot recently that people are glad he's there. He struggles to see why that's the case—but as he learned before everyone was separated, he just needs to accept the positive things people say to him. Accept the compliments. Accept love. It's all the same, really.

The feelings are so, so much. Sometimes they're too much. Sometimes they're a bubbling pot of water on a too hot stovetop, and you lose track of the time and suddenly you just have a mess. Before he met Vash and Meryl, his pot was on the range for too long—simmering under a lid. Now he can't stop feeling emotions, and it's frustrating. His counterpart can handle his emotions, so why can't he??

"Hey, I don't wanna hear it from Mr. Spends-a-century-alone. We all do this shit, I've learned," he reaches down and ruffles Vash's spikey head with a fond smile, "This has been nice. Gettin' to spend time with you, even if it... well, I..."

Wolfwood rolls his eyes with a sad huff of a chuckle, choosing tough honesty over cushioned lies, "It's hard comin' to terms with losing someone forever, you know? I mean, I know you know, but... I miss the guy. You and him are different, but similar—kinda like me and Nicholas." His hand softens as he runs fingers through the blond strands. There's residue of hair gel, but it's faint from being over a day—at least a day—since he's applied it. Those fingers dive deep, fingernails scritch-scritching while they move.

"I'm... kinda glad I got to meet you before you meet us. I don't know if you ever will now, but... now you have to face the truth that people care about you. That you can love and be loved. Maybe you'll actually cut yourself some damn slack."

He continues to pet Vash idly as he speaks, then scoffs.

"What, you want me to call you a good boy? Might have to earn that," Nick jests. He knows Vash is a fan of praise, but he was never so forthright about it. "How can I entertain the easily distracted Vash the Stampede to get him to stay? What's his idea of a good time for tonight?"

It's funny—minutes ago he was furiously blushing, flustered at the prospect of this Vash coming onto him. Now Nick's petting him and it's comforting. The skin around his eyes is still swollen with shed tears, he still has a bit of a sniffle, but the blond knows exactly how to comfort him even if he doesn't know him. Wolfwood hopes that, if this world has a version of himself, he gets to meet Vash and Meryl. Even if it looks different, even if he's okay, even if Livio is safe too... he can't imagine a world where he doesn't meet Vash the Stampede and the fiery Meryl Stryfe.

"I'm open to any ideas, if you have any," he looks outside to the worsening weather as wind kicks up dust with a rumble of distant thunder, "As long as we don't go outside, anyway."

Wolfwood shifts his gaze to those soft, glassy blue eyes he adores. Is it so bad that he considers kissing the space between them?

[peytonhalliwel]

Hey, isn't there some witchy club we can go to? Ambrose mentioned one.

[bonbwrill]

The Liberation of Santa Claus

Saint Nicholas is the patron saint of thieves. He's the patron saint of, "If you saw someone shoplifting, no you didn't." Santa Claus is a construction of a society that wants to establish rigid rules of behavior and reward compliance with material items. Christmas is such a major holiday, not only because of the sales receipts, but because this idea of "Goodness (conformity) leads to rewards (survival)." and that is a major dose of programming to drop on a capitalist society for three months every year. Add to that the layer of, "If you really care, you'll go bankrupt proving it." and you get a holiday that celebrates nothing more than trading the well-being of the self for the benefit of the economy.

The smart thing they did was to be really vague about the standards for "naughty" and "nice". These are already really strange conditions as naughty is when we flout the social rules just enough to catch attention and not enough to earn hard punishment. Nice is how we behave when we want people to like us or to do something for us. Setting these standards up as the gauge for who should be deprived of things and who should be rewarded is only going to result in a bunch of people who act in ways that are inherently manipulative. That means that influential people are surrounded by people who tell them whatever they want to hear regardless of reality and consequences. People who have nothing to trade for niceness get shat upon regardless of their conditions and needs. That really benefits some folks and leaves others quietly perishing away from the public eye.

Santa Claus was hanging out in his workshop, drinking a cup of coffee and watching a nearly skeletal polar bear walk by outside his window. St Nicholas knocked on the door and then let himself in. "Son of my name and descendant by narrative… what the fuck?"

Santa started to put on a jolly face and inhaled to laugh, but stopped when he heard the final words. He started to speak, but Nicholas raised his hand, "Don't speak. Listen." He looked around the workshop and picked up a rawhide mallet, "Do you know what this is? Don't speak. This is a tool. It does nothing on its own, but in the hand of a craftsman it can be used to make delicate adjustments to fine metalwork. In the hand of a person intent on harming you it can be used to… well… it would probably leave a few bruises. Maybe I should have picked up the chisel instead."

Nicholas set the mallet back down and sighed heavily, "What makes you different than any one of these tools? Don't speak. In the hands of a skilled parent you can be used as a fine example of generosity and joyful surprises. In the hands of a person intent on harming the world you are a fucking nightmare. Do not speak."

Santa seemed to shift from angry to sad and back, turning his head to gaze into the fireplace. Nicholas continued, "Yes, it's tempting to burn the whole thing down and start from scratch, but that's not very creative. If you've come to represent one good thing it's creativity. Creating toys out of nothing with your army of elves and your magic bag of holding. There is a lot worth saving here, but… maybe you should shift your methods a bit." When Santa glanced back at him, he went on, "For one year and for the whole year, not just Your Season, I want you to be everywhere with everyone all at once. Since you're already monitoring behavior, this shouldn't be hard. Don't speak. When someone does something harmful, you will leave them living in a world where people do horrible things. When someone does something kind, you will leave them living in a world where people do kind things. That's the judgement, that's the punishment, that's the gift. No more, no less."

When Santa frowned and inhaled to speak, Nicholas raised his hand as though in benediction, "This is your mission. This is your punishment. This is your reward. This is your liberation. You are already free. Go forth and do this work and you will live in a world where people recognize that their own actions determine the harmfulness and kindness in their lives."

Nicholas disappeared in a puff of ostrich feathers which fell to the ground with a soft thud.

The moral of many a holiday movie is that the true Santa Claus lives in every one of us. The idea that we each embody the spirit of this manipulated tool can make us feel revolted and destructive. Or we can use that power against those who would use that tool as a weapon against us. We can recognize that the reward for living in a world where we are harmful is that we live in the same space and body as a person who does harmful things. If we make choices based in kindness and a desire to see all beings thrive, we will not be conforming to the system and those who control our resources may become unhappy with us. In the end, if we make that choice, we will live in the deepest intimacy with a person who chooses kindness.

By this story, told to me by me, may Santa Claus be liberated from the status of tool of the oligarchs and become a tool of skillful chaotic choices of kindness in the face of systemic and endemic cruelty.

[quidfree]

hi! hope you're well and that you're having a good day:) I absolutely adore LMV - I genuinely think it's the best fic I've ever read. anyway, the point of this ask was that I was wondering whether you had any thoughts about sirius as a godfather? like, was he suited for the job, did he actually do a good job... idk, maybe you've answered that question before, in that case, sorry! and ofc don't stress abt answering:))

this is so nice of you ty!!!

ive never talked about dogfather sirius, actually!! what an interesting pair of questions.... i would have to say a qualified yes to both?

was sirius suited for the job: personality-wise, maybe not entirely (raising a child alone in the event of jily deaths would have been Rough, and he’s not exactly a stable parental unit, not to mention he would have spoiled harry rotten), BUT he has the most important prerequisite, which is undying love and loyalty for the potters and for harry, and that means he would have done everything in his power to be a good parent figure to him, which is what really matters, so. not to mention that jily realistically weren’t contemplating he would have to be godfather alone for the majority of harry’s life- with jily around he could have been just The Coolest Godfather Ever instead of harry’s first living parental figure who didn’t treat him like shit.

did he actually do a good job? i would say a resounding yes. bearing in mind he was stuck in azkaban for twelve years (let’s not get into that), we only actively see him godparent harry for three years (plus when he was a baby). obviously baby harry was spoilt v much by his dogfather; what we see of sirius + teen harry also speaks favourably of him, i think. ok, little bit of a rough start what with the unhinged prisoner vibe, but the FIRST thing sirius does when free is go check up on harry- and he keeps tabs via crookshanks etc once at school, knows his interests well enough to send him the firebolt, and he values harry’s opinions enough to not murder peter on the spot despite his thirteen year revenge vendetta. obviously, the fact harry is the spitting image of someone sirius hasnt seen except for in his nightmares for over a decade doesn’t hurt, but he’s just so awkwardly sweet to harry afterwards- when he offers harry to come live with him, expecting him to refuse and completely understanding of it, it’s so endearing (and it always broke my heart how excited they both were about it- i bet sirius was thinking about another time a potter asked to live together). and from the start sirius ALWAYS speaks to harry like a whole person, not a child to be kept in the dark (which, if everyone else had done, looking at you dumbledore...)- the speech he gives him before he escapes is so important for harry to hear, especially from someone who knew his parents. sirius is always so careful to tell harry things about james and lily. now, it’s not that sirius treating harry like an adult would be ideal on its own, and i do think in part the issue is that he skipped his entire childhood and harry looks so much like james, but i also don’t think sirius actually treats harry too much like a grown man, apart from slipups- just like a grown teen. he advises him against threats, tells him the edgy backstories harry SHOULD know (and no other adult ever wants to tell him), looks after him as best he can (HE LIVES IN A CAVE EATING BONES TO LOOK OUT FOR HIM), listens to his teen melodrama. even when he’s fucking up by encouraging harry’s risk-taking i don’t think he’s treating him like an adult- he’s treating him like a *marauder*, because at that age, that’s what he or james would have done; being able to make informed choices is what sirius would have wanted at his age. i don’t think molly or sirius necessarily have the better argument- both make good points; sirius gets what harry wants and molly gets what harry might need even if he doesn’t want it, but that makes perfect sense- molly is an older woman who’s raised seven children, and sirius is in his early thirties and lived with kids for (1) year. james and sirius were order members by age /eighteen/ and sirius was in azkaban at /twenty-one/- he was basically a kid HIMSELF before he got put in the torture prison. i always found it so unfair that literally none of the other adults ever mention the debilitating mental issues he must be suffering from- remember the lifelong PTSD hagrid got from a MONTH there???- and that’s without even mentioning dumbledore’s purposeful exacerbating of them. not to say that mental health excuses poor parenting, but sirius both /isn’t a parent/ and really does very well at filling that role anyways, on the whole, so i think he can be cut some slack for once in his life. harry loves sirius SO MUCH and sirius loves him right back- and sirius teaches him some of the most important lessons in the whole series, even if he himself never managed to learn them- lessons that i really think shape the adult harry becomes, and the kind of lessons his parents might have taught him. so overall i’d give him kudos- and considering the absolute bullshit he’s living through, with james and lily dead, azkaban sucking the light out of him for over a decade, peter running free, and dumbledore QUARANTINING HIM IN THE HOUSE WHERE HIS ABUSIVE DEAD MOTHER IS (?!?!), i would say he does a stellar fucking job.

anyways harry & sirius’ relationship is so important to the series- even the GP was upset when sirius dies in OOTP, largely because everyone could see how bad it hit harry. that scene in dumbledore’s office? oof. they just care about each other so v much and we were robbed of a lifetime of sirius as harry’s absolute fav adult. if sirius had held onto harry that day- if dumbledore hadn’t decided to place him with abusive bigots for a plan which would only pay off by OOTP- i honestly think sirius would have outlived the series. because with harry he’d have been less unhinged by grief, able to testify properly, gotten support from other order members, not gone to azkaban- and with harry he would have had a reason to live. thirteen years of raising harry would have made harry the snarky little fucker he is at his core by age eleven, confident and happy and very good at quidditch indeed; thirteen years would have made sirius as whole as he can get. they would have patched things up with remus. there’d be no OOTP tragedy of errors. sirius would have punched dumbledore at some point. harry would have sent a pic of him and his new friends over week 1 of hogwarts and sirius would have punched through a wall and then calmly strolled over to hogwarts and taken ron’s pet rat over to minerva mcgonnagal, where unspeakable things happened to it. he would have gently butted heads with hermione (but won her over via crookshanks if nothing else) and gotten on very well with ron; snape would barely have been able to be such a dick to him because sirius would have gleefully sent him howlers for every minute of his day until he cracked. lucius on the school board terrorizing the other parents? not on sirius “billionaire heir to the toujours pur line” black’s watch- he’d happily invest even more obnoxious wealth into the school fund to get first call, not to mention lucius’ imperius excuse would not get very far with sirius around. “who’s nicholas flamel? we can’t ask adults- we’d get in trouble with the teachers and our parents are either muggles or wouldn’t know- oh wait nevermind, sirius, who’s nicholas flamel?” no more expelliarmus-ing for four years; harry Trained Duellist By Age 11 more like. dobby the house-elf? oi dobby sirius is family too- now spit it all out, won’t you? chamber of secrets? yeah, sirius knows what that is. parseltongue? yeah, sirius is familiar, and fuck those other kids for being weird to harry about it, does he want to come home for the holidays? weird creepy diary? oh, sirius’ family will have Magicke Moste Evile around somewhere. book 3 is just Harry’s Holiday: The Book because there’s no sirius subplot. you think snape would have dared treat remus the way he does with sirius hovering around paying half his checks? i think the fuck not. you bet your ass they had box seats for the whole of gryffindor house at the Quidditch World Cup. barty crouch? yeah, sirius knows THAT asshole- and remembers his son. catch harry whizzing through all the challenges minus the nerves ahead of time while sirius and remus do half the investigating for him. yule ball? no sweat, just go with ron; that’s what james and sirius would have done. if the maze went the way it goes in the books, “moody” wouldn’t even have been able to drag harry off without sirius intervening. and sirius “ptsd” black would have been The One Person who Got harry’s feelings in OOTP- not to mention sirius Skilled Legilimens black could have coopted that shit from snape and gotten harry up to scratch. sirius-raised-harry would have given umbridge twice as much shit. no kreacher lying here- and harry has sirius’ mirror anyways. so no massive drama in the ministry, and no suicidal recklessness / desperate first taste of freedom on sirius’ part means no veil incident even if they got there. hence book six through seven going Quite Differently. sirius shows up book six to be DADA teacher, why not. him and remus think it’d be funny, and besides he’s petty enough to steal the job from snape. move over firenze, new hot teacher in town. half the books are avoidable.

[blankticket]

This rush together, skirting past danger through the edges of Fibonacci, leaves Vash breathless and exhilarated beyond the chase. But as their steps slow to a stop, Vash feels that inexplicable elation begin to ebb, too.

It's as though he never expects for them to reach the end of their journeys, together, no matter how many times they already have before. It felt too cruel to accept that they'd have to keep parting ways. All the more, now, anxiety bubbles up in his chest. The pacifist's effort to catch his breath is left to the wayside as he realizes how close he's stopped himself to the other man.

Wolfwood looks so happy. It had been rare to see the cross-bearer let his guard down like this, but it felt wrong to chase after these moments. As if he'd done anything at all to deserve something as precious as this. After all the pain that Vash has caused—to the undertaker, to the world around him—how is it that Nicholas can decide to care about him anyway, again and again?

"Sorry," he so rudely blurts over Wolfwood's thanks, because he can't stand to hear the gratitude. He's smiling, sadly, like usual.

"I'm sorry. That I hurt you so much. Never wanted that. And sorry for making you clean up my messes all the time. And when—when I leapt onto doubting your work, earlier, I…"

Laughter, somehow; bashful and sheepish. Vash notices finally that his hand's risen up to his waist, spread fingers aimed at the other man's hand, so he pulls it up and away to scratch at the back of his head instead.

"Just don't want you t'get into all this again, y'know? You deserve better."

The grin on his own face turns into a lopsided smile for a moment, catching that softer expression that came from surprise. It stays a moment, and then he snaps out of it. Whatever daze that was could wait - shoved into the back of his mind with everything else, coffins wrapped securely with little intent to be open - because the sirens were getting louder.

But it didn't change that they were in sync once the chase began. He hasn't unwrapped the Punisher - whoever caught them would have to pose much more of a danger than that, and while a giant cross would catch a bystander's eye, it wouldn't bring about as much fear as a giant cross shaped gun.

He does lead the way, though. They see Louis sprinting off into a different ward, having caught up to him easily enough, and Wolfwood is sure to head in a different direction, skirting the edges of the current investigation.

There are a few footfalls out of place, but no gunshots. Whoever it was lurking in the shadows decided better of it as the pair approaches the Cotes Fantasci ward. Skirting into the edges of the Yela Alora swamp, he stops.

Aside from their own footfalls, a silence draws across the swamp. Whoever had been trying to tail them had seemingly given up.

It only occurred to him that his face hurt once they stop, and he rubs at his cheeks. He could be a bit of a smartass in combat, but he couldn't have been that expressive while they ran. "Well, that's gonna be a shit show to revisit, huh?"

"That's tomorrow-Wolfwood's problem. Paperwork an' all." He sets down the Punisher, looking back to Vash. "...Hey, uh."

"Thanks. For trustin' me." He shuts his mouth after that, avoiding his usual 'bad choice on your part but thanks' shit. Biting his own tongue against his own self-deprecating remarks. For once.

[thenightmareofyourdrems]

                   ˜”*°•.       Awkward  was  a  rather  inadequate  word  to  describe  this  encounter .  Waiting  for  Sabrina  to  get  ready  one  thing  but  the  specific  conversation  with  her  aunt ?  An  experience  he’d  rather  avoid  in  both  the  near  and  distant  future .  ❝ I  care  for  her . ❞   Echoed  the  assurance .  And it was sincere , indeed . ❝ I  just  don’t  know  if  she  feels  the  same  . ❞  Doubt  he  wasn’t  even  certain  why  he  was  sharing .  But  maybe  he  knew  -  if  one  person  was  aware  of  Sabrina’s  feelings ,  it’d  be  her  aunts,  right ?  Lying  about  it  not  in  their  best  interest  either -  not  when they  wanted  their  niece  to  be  happy . @auntiezelda

Continued from here

[dailynabrina]

#Chilling Adventures of Sabrina #Sabrina Spellman #Sabrina Morningstar #Nicholas Scratch # Nick Scratch # #CAOS #Nabrina #Nick x Sabrina #OTP: I don't care about the world #

“You just found me in the wrong universe, that’s all. There had to be one universe where we don’t end up together. Here and now just happens to be it.”