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lightsupinthenorth · 4 years

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Read me like an open book part 1/2

Hey! :) Here is the first part of a two-part (at least I think ah ah) Harringrove fanfiction. It’s set a few years after the events of the third season (which Billy survived, obviously ^^). It starts on Steve’s birthday just because it’s my birthday today :p

I hope you’ll enjoy ;)

Read on AO3

“It’s presents time, bitches!” Robin said, getting up from the floor, where Steve was still sprawled with Billy half-laying on top of him.

They might have overdone it a little on the weed. Steve didn’t really care, though. He was relaxed and happy. So far, his twenty-first birthday had been the best birthday ever. Robin and Billy had organized a surprise gathering in their shared flat, inviting the kids, Nancy and Jonathan, as well as Joyce and Hopper. After everyone had left earlier in the evening, Robin had gone to her room and had come back with a bag of weed bought by Billy and her for the occasion, and they had gotten positively baked.

Billy and Robin had insisted to give him his present when it was just the three of them instead of doing it at the same time as the others. When Steve had seen the weed, he had understood why. So, he was confused when Robin mentioned presents.

“What presents?”

“Your birthday presents, dingus. I know you’re high right now, but I didn’t think you were high enough to forget your own birthday.” Robin cackled.

“Hey, I haven’t forgotten. I just kinda thought… wasn’t the weed the present?”

“Pfff, no.” Billy replied. “What kind of present would that be? As if we didn’t already smoke weed on the regular.”

He made them sound like potheads. They didn’t smoke that often… Then again, it did happen more frequently than their respective birthdays.

“Yo, Buckley, can you go to my room and fetch my present for Steve too, now that you’re at it. It’s in the drawer of my bedside table.” Billy yelled, a lot louder than was necessary considering Robin was just in the next room.

Steve whined. Billy’s voice was reverberating in his head.

“Sure, you lazy fuck.” She yelled back, just as loud.

They were so noisy!

“Open mine first!” Robin said as she sat down on the floor again, extending a rectangular package.

Steve had to detangle himself from Billy, ignoring his mumbled complaints, before he tore into the brightly colored wrapping paper. He uncovered a thick book with a beautiful cover representing a sky full of stars. It was titled Long live the King.

“I know you’ve taken to reading, these days, and this novel is amazing.” Robin assured.

“It’s really not that good.” Billy grumbled, with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh, you read it too?” Steve asked.

“Uh… yeah, I did.”

Billy was staring at Robin when he said it. And he was frowning.

“Don’t listen to him, Steve, he’s being a buzzkill. You’re going to love it.”

“I’m sure I will. Thanks Rob.” Steve hugged her.

He hoped Billy would still agree to help him with the book, even if he didn’t like it much. Ever since he knew Steve had trouble with written words, Billy would read to him all the time. It had become their thing. Steve loved his voice. Well, Steve loved everything about him, but that was off topic.

“Now, here’s Hargrove gift.”

Robin basically dropped the gift in Steve’s lap. The wrapping paper had multi-colored stars on it. Steve unraveled it carefully and found a set of pencils and a beautiful sketchbook. Billy and Robin’s gifts kind of coordinated aesthetically speaking, which was nice. Indeed, on the cover of the notebook was a drawing of the night sky, with the sea represented underneath. “My sea of stars”, was written on the front.

Steve used to doodle distractingly during class. He’d been doing it since primary school. After he had graduated, his doodling habit had spread to his daily life. He would draw lines absentmindedly while he was on the phone or trace random shapes on discarded pieces of paper when he was watching TV but was too fidgety to focus. He hadn’t been seriously committed to drawing, though. He had only started making it into a real hobby after Starcourt. Billy had been the one to suggest it, in fact. After he’d literally come back to life, Steve and he had become good friends, and Billy had noticed his little habit and had bought him a sketch pad. Drawing helped Steve a lot. Gave him something to do when he was feeling restless, which was the case more often than not after the whole ‘Upside-Down and co’ experience.

Steve was frustrated by his lack of technique, at first, and had almost given up on several occasions. But Billy had always been there to cheer him up and keep him going. He was certain Billy hadn’t even realized his compliments and encouragements had prevented Steve from calling it quits at least a dozen times. They spent hours together in their living room, on the couch, Steve drawing while Billy wrote in his huge notebook, with his feet on Steve’s lap. Steve was eager to spend many more hours that exact same way, drawing on the new sketchbook Billy had offered him.

“It’s… it’s really nice, Billy. I love it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Pretty boy.”

They hugged, and Billy didn’t let him go, half-climbing on him again as they laid back down.

“Ugh, guys, seriously, get a room.” Robin complained, which led to Steve blushing and Billy flipping her the bird.

Steve would have attributed Billy’s behavior to the weed, but they had gotten more and more tactile since the beginning of their friendship about two years prior, so the weed didn’t have much to do with it. Except that maybe Billy would have waited for Robin to go to bed before attaching himself to Steve like a koala, if he hadn’t been high.

Either way, Steve was far from complaining: the more Billy touched him, the better.

Before he went to bed that night, Steve took his secret sketchpad – the one in which he drew his best friend page after page (like an obsessed creep) – from under his mattress, and drew the version of Billy he had seen earlier: high Billy, with his lax body and hazy eyes.

A few minutes after putting his paper shrine back in its usual hiding spot, Steve fell asleep with a smile on his face, and the smell of Billy’s cologne on his own skin. He hoped all his birthdays to come would be similar to this one.

When Steve got up the next morning, Billy and Robin were eating breakfast in the kitchen.

He heard Billy say:

“Stop it, Robin. I can’t tell him, I just can’t.”

It made no sense to him, since he had missed the beginning of the conversation, but his interest was picked.

“You can’t tell who, what?” He asked as he went to the cupboard to get his favorite cereals. No way he would eat oatmeal like Robin and Billy. What a depressing way to start the day.

“I, uh…” Billy started. Robin interrupted him, though:

“He can’t tell his coworker that his new haircut looks stupid.”

“Yeah… ‘Cause it would be mean, you know.” Billy added, before putting a huge spoonful of oatmeal in his mouth.

“Uh… well, it’s true. It wouldn’t be a very nice thing to say, Rob.” Steve agreed.

He put his box of cereals on the table and sat down next to Robin, in front of Billy, who was looking intently at his bowl.

“Why do you think Billy should tell the poor guy his hair looks weird?”

If anyone said that to Steve, he’d be devastated. That was for sure.

“So he can let his hair grow back and have it cut in a more flattering way.” Robin explained. “It would be doing him a favor, in my opinion.”

Steve hummed. “Makes sense”, he said. He was more focused on his fruit loops, though. It wasn’t like he cared about the guy anyway. He hadn’t even met him.

Robin hadn’t either, so Steve didn’t know why she was so pressed on Billy giving him hair advice. Whatever floats her boat, he thought.

His roommates were weird, sometimes. Nothing could be done about it.

The next weekend, Steve and Billy were both off from their respective work, and Steve really wanted to start reading the book Robin had gotten him for his birthday.

Billy was occupied with a novel of his own next to him, and Steve didn’t want to be a burden, so he started reading on his own. After a few pages, he was already hooked, but he got tired quickly, as he always did. Frustrated, he fidgeted a bit on the couch and brought the book closer to his face, as if it would help the words stop swimming in front of his eyes.

Billy sighed.

“What’s up, Pretty boy?” He asked, only then looking up from his own reading.

“I just… would it be okay… would you read to me? Please.”

Billy sighed again, a bit louder. Steve’s face fell. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but Steve always looked forward to Billy reading out loud to him.

“Sorry… I know you don’t like this book… I’ll ask Robin to read it to me when she gets home.”

“No! I… I’ll do it, I’ll read for you. I really don’t mind.” Billy exclaimed.

Steve was agreeably surprised by the amount of enthusiasm Billy displayed and he smiled at him when he handed him the book, letting their hands brush.

“Thank you!”

Steve kissed Billy’s cheek and laid his head on his shoulder.

“Don’t mention it, Pretty boy.”

“Sure, I’ll mention it. It means a lot, you know.”

Billy cleared his throat. “Right… if you say so.”

Steve could feel the heat of Billy’s blush.

He always downplayed the nice things he did, but Steve wouldn’t have it. He would keep showing Billy he was grateful for every little (and not so little) attention. Declaring his undying love to him would be a very effective way to make Billy realize how much Steve really appreciated him, but that would also do a lot more harm than good. Steve had to focus on the big picture, here.

Billy began to read where Steve had stopped, and if Steve didn’t already know Billy disliked the book, he wouldn’t have been able to tell at all. He put his heart into it as he always did. Not only that, but Steve felt like Billy’s voice held even more emotion than it usually did.

Steve fell into a sort of trance. The story was told in first person, from the point of view of a magician in a fantasy land, and Steve imagined himself as the narrator. In his mind, he could see everything Billy was describing: the village, the fields, the magnificent castle surrounded by a dark forest in which creatures lurked, the King who lived in the castle and whom the enchanter was secretly in love with.

Hours passed before Billy stopped reading. Still, Steve had to refrain himself from begging for one more chapter. He couldn’t be greedy; he didn’t want Billy to tire of him.

“Here you go, Stevie.”

“That was great. You’re the best.”

“It’s just reading, Pretty boy. I didn’t hang the moon.” Billy mumbled.

Steve nearly said “You might as well have”, but said: “It’s far better than ‘just reading’”, instead. That was a close call.

They went to the kitchen to make dinner, and Robin came home from work right before the oven beeped.

Steve ate his meal slowly, without really tasting it, and he didn’t say much, letting Robin and Billy do most of the talking. He was still somewhere far away, in a fantasy land ruled by a beautiful king. And, if the king was a carbon copy of Billy, it was nobody’s business but Steve’s.

On Thursday, Billy went to Indianapolis, and Steve went with him. Apparently, Billy had been asked by his boss to go check and fix a few collection cars over there, and Billy had invited Steve to come with him. Said it would be fun. They’d spend the morning together and Billy would go to his work appointment after lunch.

“Not that I’m not glad to have the opportunity of going on a fun little trip or anything, but couldn’t that guy find a garage in Indianapolis to take care of his cars? There must be more than a few.” Steve asked Billy, who had just started the car.

“That’s because I’m the best in fucking Indiana, baby.” He said with a cocky grin.

Steve rolled his eyes but couldn’t hold back his fond smile.

“Right. Forget I asked.”

“To answer more seriously, I don’t really know. But who gives a fuck? The guy paid extra… I mean like, a big wad of cash. So, fine by me.”

Billy shrugged.

Steve found it quite weird, but it was fine by him too. It wasn’t any of his business, anyway: he was just tagging along.

He turned the radio on, and then Billy and he bickered for ages about what station to choose. That was somewhat of a tradition every time they were in a car together.

“I’m driving, so I choose. It’s driver’s privilege, Pretty boy. Suck it up.”

“But that’s not fair!” Steve whined. “You insisted to drive, it’s not like I had a choice.”

“Too bad. You lose anyway.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, making Billy laugh. The cold bastard.

When they arrived in Indianapolis, Billy parked, and they chose a direction at random to go wander. Steve got caught up in some window-shopping, stopping abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk to stare at the newest Adidas sneakers behind the glass.

Steve used to be given everything he wanted. Well, everything he wanted that could be bought with money. Now that he didn’t speak to his parents anymore and was financially independent, however, he couldn’t afford many unnecessary expenses. These shoes sadly fell into the “unnecessary” category.

Billy had not immediately noticed Steve had stopped walking, so he had to go back on his tracks a little.

“Hey, Stevie, give a guy a warning, would you? I turned to talk to you and you were not there anymore.”

“Sorry, sorry. I was just… I wanted to take a look at these.” Steve pointed at the shoes. “I don’t know why I did, anyway… it’s not like I’m gonna buy them.”

“Right… it’s fine. Let’s go get lunch, Pretty boy.” Billy said, steering him away from the shop, but not without giving the shoes a good look himself.

They ate burgers and fries in a greasy joint they had stumbled upon. The food was pretty good. As a testament to that, Billy kept trying to steal fries off Steve’s basket. At first, Steve batted his hand away, but he gave up after a while. When Billy gave him a wide smile after finally succeeding, Steve couldn’t even be mad at him. He’d gave up all the fries in the world if it meant seeing Billy smile like that. Steve smiled back at him.

In the afternoon, while Billy was at work, Steve went to a coffee shop and bought a cappuccino for himself, and a giant raisin oatmeal cookie to go for Billy. He grimaced a little as he ordered the latter. Billy really had weird tastes, sometimes.

He sat down at a table and put the cookie in his backpack, before taking out his book. He progressed slowly, really slowly, only managing to read a chapter before he had to meet Billy back at the car. Yes, Steve had trouble with reading to begin with, but the fact that this book was making him emotional was not helping him read it any faster.

He related to the narrator a lot. He, too, was in love with someone close to him yet unreachable. He, too, had to admire them in silence. And the object of his love was as beautiful and as brave as the King was described to be. The only difference was that the King was said to have brown hair and eyes.

What the characters were going through also reminded him of what had happened because of the Upside-Down, in some way. Life in Hawkins was (or at least had been) so strange that it looked like something out of a fantasy novel. How wild was that? Steve mused, as he was waiting for Billy near his car.

When Billy made it to the car, he was carrying a thick brown envelope in his right hand and a paper bag in the left.

“Want some help with all that?” Steve asked.

“Uh… No, thank you. I’ll be fine.” Billy assured, transferring the envelope in his left hand so he was carrying everything on the same side and could fetch the car keys from his pocket with his newly free hand. He opened the trunk and dropped everything in it.

Steve didn’t bother asking what was in the envelope, or in the bag. If Billy had wanted to share the information, he already would have. Steve definitely wondered, though.

“I have an oatmeal raisin cookie for you, if you’d like.” He said once they were in their seats, as he rummaged through his backpack in search of it.

“Oh yeah thanks! that sounds perfect.”

Billy took the paper bag from Steve’s hand as he unparked the car. Steve would have scolded him for eating while driving instead of focusing solely on the road, but that would have been slightly hypocritical of him.

“Well, that’s a relief, because no way I’d have eaten that if you didn’t want it.” Steve made a face again.

“That’s ‘cause you have bad tastes, Pretty boy.” Billy said, taking a big bite of the cookie and putting crumbs everywhere.

Steve laughed. If only Billy knew how much Steve loved him, he would certainly backtrack on what he had just said.

“It’s delicious, you don’t know what you’re missing.” Billy said in between bites.

Steve was watching him with a sad smile, glad that Billy’s eyes were on the road and not on him. It took him a few seconds to reply.

“Oh I know, believe me. I know.”

The next morning, when he woke up, Steve found the brown paper bag Billy had come back with at the foot of his bed. What the…?

The idea of Billy sneaking into his room during the night to put it there made something tighten in his chest, but Steve was mostly preoccupied with finding out what was inside the bag.

He basically jumped out of bed, which was very unusual of him (he was the exact opposite of a morning person), and reached for the bag. There was a box labelled Adidas in it… no way! Steve opened it with shaky hands and his jaw dropped.

What… how… why? Steve was confused. Billy had gotten him the sneakers he’d been looking at in the shop window. How had he paid for them? Why would he spend so much money on Steve? Especially so soon after his birthday… This was far too much.

Steve exited his room quicker than he would have if it had been on fire.

“Billy!” Steve might have called his name slightly louder than he meant to.

Billy, who was sitting at the breakfast table with his back to Steve, jumped and put a hand over his heart.

“Damn, Pretty boy, calm down. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“What the fuck?”

Robin darted her eyes between the two of them and announced: “I’ll leave you to it”, before retreating to her room with her bowl of disgustingly bland oatmeal.

“What gives, Stevie?”

“You know what, Billy. The shoes. What the fuck? Why did you buy them?”

“Isn’t that obvious? You wanted them, and I wanted you to have them. It’s not that big a deal.” Billy was not looking at him as he spoke.

Steve’s heart nearly melted. Because that was so fucking sweet of Billy to do what he did, and then say something like that. He couldn’t possibly accept the gift, though.

“Not that big a deal? They’re so expensive, Billy… I can’t … I can’t just take them… it wouldn’t be right.”

“Look, Steve… As I told you, my client from yesterday paid really well, and it’s my money, so I get to decide how to spend it, and I wanted to spend it on these shoes, for you. So please, keep them. They’re your size and not refundable, anyway. Either you keep them or they’ll just rot in the cupboard. That’s up to you.”

Steve was almost certain Billy was bullshitting him on the “not refundable” part, but he didn’t argue. It would be no use: Billy always won.

So, he just hugged him tightly instead. Billy froze for a second, but quickly let go of the spoon he was still holding to hug Steve back.

“Thank you so much. I don’t know what I did to deserve that.”

“You don’t need to do anything in particular, Pretty boy. Being yourself is more than enough.”

Steve was not a crier, but his eyes were undeniably misty. Billy couldn’t keep being so sweet and expect Steve to reign his feelings in. They were on the verge of overflowing already.

After finally letting go of Billy (not before leaving a kiss on top of his head, though), Steve put the sneakers on.

“Steve, seriously… you’re still wearing your pajamas.”

Steve’s pajamas consisted in frayed basketball shorts and a old Hawkins High t-shirt, so it was fine to wear the sneakers with them in Steve’s book. And he wouldn’t take these off until he absolutely had to.

“So what?” Steve asked.

Billy rolled his eyes, but his ears were red.

About a week later, Steve’s nightmares paid him a visit. They had left him alone for a while, but Steve knew they’d be back eventually. He saw Billy die again, which was simultaneously his worst and most common nightmare.

“Hey, Steve. Stevie. Wake up, please.”

He was shaken awake.

Thankfully, Billy was the one to wake him up from his dream, so Steve instantly knew he was alive and well. Steve threw his arms around him, buried his face in his neck, and inhaled his scent to calm himself down.

Billy held him close and rubbed his back, whispering reassuring words in his ear:

“You’re okay, Pretty boy. You’re fine. It was just a dream.”

Yes, Steve was alright. But the most important thing was that Billy was. That had been the object of Steve’s concern.

“I’m sorry… did I wake you?”

Billy sighed.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t mind, Steve?”

“As many times as I have to tell you the same thing.”

Billy’s room was right next to Steve’s. It wasn’t the first time he woke Billy up with his nightmare-induced screams. And Billy’s night terrors had woken Steve up a few times too.

“Touché.” Billy said. “Do you think you’ll be able to go back to sleep?” He added after a pause.

“I don’t know… Could you read to me again?”

“Sure, if it helps.” Billy agreed.

Steve snatched the book from his bedside table and handed it to Billy, who opened it where the bookmark indicated Steve had stopped.

“You read all this by yourself?” There was awe in Billy’s voice.

Steve was blushing, but in the low light of his bedside lamp, it was probably not very noticeable. At least, he could always hope.

“Yeah… uh… I was really into it.”

He had read about seven chapters on his own, which, added to the ones Billy had read to him the other day, only left three before they reached the end.

“Steve, you did really good!”

Steve blushed even harder. His face was burning at that point. Billy sounded so proud of him.

“It’s not like it’s a great achievement, or anything… but yeah, I guess it’s progress.”

“Hey, of course it’s progress. It’s a lot, Steve. Don’t diminish your accomplishments.” Billy said in a firm tone.

“Okay, okay. I won’t.”

“Good.” Billy sprawled on the bed and leaned against the headboard. He then tugged on Steve’s arm. “Now settle down.”

Steve did as he was told and settled right next to him, resting his head on Billy’s chest and putting an arm over his waist. Steve loved the feeling of Billy’s naked skin against his. When they had first moved in together, Billy wore long-sleeved t-shirts almost constantly, self-conscious as his scars made him. Now, he slept in nothing but shorts. Steve wasn’t the only one who had been making progress.

Billy was barely three sentences into the third to last chapter when his voice broke. He cleared his throat and resumed the reading as if nothing had happened. His voice was now breathy, though.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“You sure? We can stop.”

“I’m sure, Pretty boy. Now shut up and let me read.”

Steve effectively shut up and Billy got back to the task at hand.

In the last three chapters, the King lost his kingdom, the magician finally confessed their love and found out it was in fact reciprocated. Then, the narrator described their first kiss with the King, a kiss that made Steve’s chest constrict with longing. The fact that it was Billy’s voice describing it only made the longing ten time worse.

As Billy read the last words: “He was not ruling the kingdom anymore, but to me he would always be king. My king, my light, my love, my everything”, Steve was on the verge of tears.

He regularly went through terrifying nightmares and found himself unable to spill a single tear, but this book might do the trick. And okay, it might have been a bit mushy, but Steve was really digging it, alright?

He opened his eyes and saw a tear stain on the last page. For a second, he thought he had already started crying without noticing, but his cheeks were dry. It then occurred to him that the tear had come from Billy.

Steve put the book away from him and had to straddle him so they could be face to face. He then wiped Billy’s tears, but they kept coming.

“What’s the matter, Billy?”

Unlike Steve, Billy was a crier. Steve had seen him cry a bunch of times, when he’d been particularly tired, or sad, or frustrated. However, there was something he was not getting: why had Billy pretended he didn’t like the book in the first place? It had to be the book. What other reason did Billy have to cry right now?

“I… I’m sorry.” Billy just said before he started properly bawling and hid his face in his hands.

Steve was even more confused… and slightly panicked.

“Hey… hey… please, tell me what’s wrong. I… I don’t know what to do.”

Steve circled Billy’s wrists to ground him, but he didn’t try to pull his hands away from his face for fear it might make him retreat further into himself.

“I just… this book hits me really hard.” His voice was muffled, but Steve could still make out the words.

“But… you said it wasn’t very good.”

Billy lowered his hands. His eyes were red and puffy.

“I meant it… It still makes me sad, though.”

Steve frowned. He didn’t think a book could elicit such reaction in someone who didn’t like it all that much.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Steve wouldn’t have judged Billy, he would have understood. He never wanted Billy to feel so bad, and even less if it happened because of something Steve had asked of him.

“I should have… I should have said something. I’m sorry.” Billy’s breathing was uneven, and Steve could see his tears threatening to come back.

“Hey, no. Don’t be sorry. You don’t have to apologize. Just tell me next time, okay?”

Billy nodded and Steve smiled at him tentatively.

“Let’s go to bed.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Billy mumbled.

Steve turned the lights off before moving from Billy’s lap to lay down. As Billy snuggled up with him, Steve couldn’t help but think about his recent behavior. Billy was acting a tad strange these days. He had gotten a lot better at expressing his feelings verbally in the last couple of years, and Steve was positive that the Billy he knew would have told him the book would upset him instead of pretending he would be fine.

Steve would have to talk to him when he was more clear-headed. The last thing he wanted was for Billy to close himself off again.

Thank you for reading :D

#Harringrove #Steve Harrington #Billy Hargrove #fluffl #a lot of fluff with a side of plot #Robin Buckley #Harringrove fanfiction #Stranger Things #part 1 #part 1 of 2

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foxtophat · 4 years

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(still trying to figure out how i link these but whatever)

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!! i decided to just sit down and hammer out the last edits for this lil one-shot so i could get it out today!

i’m gonna be real with you: the only reason i wrote this fic is because i couldn’t get the idea out of my head. you weren’t supposed to see mercyverse for another month, honestly!!! but it’s been cold as fuck here and it’s made me fantasize about classic bed-sharing tropes, and so here we are!

this is a bit of a slice of life, to sort of give an idea of how day-to-day these guys all interact, especially now that carmina doesn’t have to pretend john doesn’t exist. plus, i’m starting to see how the caches might be involved in the overarching plot???? awesome!!!

as usual, the full text is below the cut for my friends who don’t wanna leave tumblr. i hope you enjoy -- feel free to leave a comment, i loooove hearing from readers. likes and reblogs are also great! kudos are fantastic! adding to the hit counter is just fine by me!!! anything you do to show support for fanfic is a good thing imo. i hope y’all have a happy wintereenmas or whatever and i will see you guys in 2021 with more mercyverse :)

The best thing Nick can say about the blizzard currently sweeping the county is that he could see that it was coming. They'd gotten almost a foot of snow the night before, which gets him worried about getting snowed in, and as the day progresses, the sky grows an ominous gray that Nick recognizes from a lifetime of living in the area. He knows that they probably only have a few hours left before they're going to want to get inside and avoid the worst a winter storm has to offer.

Nick and John spend the entire morning hauling wood into the house, while Kim does her best to clean out the broken chimney and ensure they won't die of smoke inhalation. They also pull in some pre-made stock that Kim had left in the freezer after it had gotten cold enough to use, as well as a few smaller pieces for miscellaneous projects. But with the storm rolling in overhead, they don't have long; they end up leaving a lot of things for later as the wind whips up around them and turns the snow sideways.

By two in the afternoon, they've closed the doors to officially bunker down for the rest of the blizzard. They have enough wood to last them three days, plus their military rations and plenty of coffee, so Nick isn't particularly concerned about their safety. The only thing he's really got to contend with is boredom, which is easier to stave off in the first few hours of captivity than it is later in the evening.

For the most part, Nick passes the time by sharpening their knives, cleaning their guns, and checking the radio every hour for any emergencies. The blizzard ensures that not many people are on, but at least he gets to check in with Jerome and make sure that Grace is safely in her bunker. It's unlikely they'll get in contact with the trailer park until after the worst passes, but that just means Nick's gonna worry about those jackasses all night.

Kim is probably the only one comfortable with the downtime, making the most of things as she chews on the radio's instructions. When the technical jargon gets to be too much, she switches to entertaining Carmina, who gets bored quick when her only job is to keep the fire going. The easiest distraction comes from card games; the deck they'd had in the bunker had shrunk to only 32 cards, but now that they've got a full deck to work with, Carmina is eager to relearn and master games like Go Fish and Old Maid. Nick doubts Jacob planned to be entertaining kids with his survival gear, but it's not like the guy's gonna complain.

Carmina isn't the only one that Jacob is keeping busy beyond the grave. Ever since they found that cache of his, John has been borderline obsessed with figuring out what the point of it could be. He'll go all day without mentioning the puzzle plaguing him, but any available downtime has him staring at the map and its coordinates. Nick and Kim have both been keeping an eye on it, just in case it turns into something worse than his usual tunnel-vision, but so far it hasn't gotten out of hand. If anything, John seems more aware and alert now that he has something to focus on, and now Nick can even pretend he's a normal guy for conversations at a time before being reminded otherwise.

Of course, the blizzard's making it impossible to find alternate distractions. John does spend part of the afternoon in his room, but eventually, he can't help but come downstairs to mull over the map. There's only one problem with that — they've hung the map up in the radio room, so there's about ten minutes every hour where Nick has no choice but to sit in John's presence. It probably wouldn't bother him so much if there was somewhere else either of them could be, but they're stuck for the foreseeable future. John's looming is just going to be part of Nick's life until the storm passes.

In the interest of keeping the peace, Nick reluctantly tries to have the same level of interest in the random dots that John shows. His attention, however, is distracted by the penciled-in changes that he, Kim and John have all been making to the landscape. The river's wider in some places now, and there are doodles of trees in spaces that were once open fields. A few X's mark places where bridges have collapsed, and Kim's circled anywhere they've made radio contact with. Their notations have scattered across the valley, and have even spread over to the river region thanks to Hurk and his raider gang, but they still don't know anything about the mountains, or even the spaces that are supposedly occupied by bow-wielding religious nutjobs. It's going to be a while before any of them get the nerve to go poking that particular hornet's nest.

John has his little notebook open, but he's not writing anything down. Nick's not sure what he would even put down, since they haven't gotten any more leads since early autumn, but he's always got the thing tucked in a pocket nowadays. Maybe Nick should be mad he outright stole that resource from the rest of them, but — well, come on. He can't yell at the man for taking up journaling, not without flying in the face of every therapist Nick had pretended not to listen to. It's just... well, what the hell is there for him to write down?

"Are you staring for any particular reason?" John asks, because of course he does.

"That's rich, coming from the guy lurking over my shoulder all day." Nick flips off the static-ridden radio frequency, leaning back in his chair so that he can get a better look at the map push-pinned to the wall. "I hear if you look at it just right, you can see a sailboat."

John's clearly not much of a Kevin Smith fan, because he only sighs heavily at Nick's flat joke. "If you have something better for me to be doing, I'm all ears," he says, revealing to Nick at last just how bored he really is. Weirdly enough, being in the same boat as John is somehow reassuring.

"Okay, fine. At least tell me what you're staring at, so I know what to fake interest in."

Even though it's mostly a joke, it lands softly enough that John doesn't take offense. Stuffing the notebook in his back pocket, he shakes his head, gesturing at the map. Getting John to explain himself is usually like pulling teeth, but right now he seems relieved to have someone to bounce his thoughts off of. It's a long way away from the guy Nick remembers saving, enough so that it almost catches his full interest.

"It's nothing in particular, really. I've already spent hours staring at this thing, but I'm... still looking for a pattern, I guess. Jacob was paranoid and secretive, but if there's a hidden code buried in these coordinates, it's beyond me to see it. And the snow was already keeping us from traveling too far — now with this blizzard, we're likely stuck with no new information until spring ..."

John sighs, rubbing his forehead as the pretense finally abandons him. "I just don't know what I'm supposed to do until then."

That's certainly a feeling that Nick can relate to. Nick is less of a workaholic than John might be, but that doesn't mean he won't go stir-crazy without his own set of chores. Hell, that's why he's been hanging around the radio in between games of cards with the girls and cleaning whatever he can get his hands on. It must suck extra for John; the guy's been spinning his tires in the dirt for years, probably, and being this close to having a purpose beyond doing whatever chores Nick sets him to must be irritating.

Nick props one leg up against the wall, tapping his boot against the wood as he ponders the dots scattered around the map. There are a few still in the valley, but there's no driving until they thaw out. The points in the mountains are probably inaccessible to anybody, and who knows when they'll get to investigate the old vet center or find the Wolf's Den. There are a couple points nearer the trailer park, though, and not for the first time Nick tries to measure the distance from Hurk to the various red dots. There's one near the lumber mill, and one near where that godawful statue was, and of course one right smack dab in the middle of the original Peggy compound.

Nick can't imagine his truck making it all the way there and back, not without more information about the roads. Hurk might not have the same trouble. "I could send the trailer park a couple coordinates," he points out. "They might get to search before us, and it could cut the work in half."

Despite John's scowl, he only sounds tired as he replies, "I've considered it, but I don't trust them. Then again, I hardly trust myself, so who knows."

"I guess you're shit outta luck, then," Nick says. John takes obvious offense at Nick brushing him off, but hey, what else is Nick supposed to do? "God's giving you a freebie with this blizzard. Maybe you should try catching up on your sleep, or something."

"And ruin the precarious schedule I'm keeping?"

"Jesus, then go read a book! Just — you know, quit hovering over me all day. Don't you know how to entertain yourself?"

John seems unphased by Nick's half-hearted outburst. "This is how I entertain myself. Maps, resources, legal documents — that's probably the only decent outlet I've ever had." He stares at Nick's boot, unwilling to meet his eyes. "At least, it's the only one healthy enough to keep."

That is probably a safe bet, Nick realizes, quickly trying to backpedal away from the open scab that is John's history. "Uh, well, what about before the cult?"

John surprises them both with a brief laugh. "If I could source some coke, then yes, I would be entertained."

"Jesus, John."

"I'm not known for my healthy self-care habits," John points out, a little too smug to be truly self-deprecating. At least he seems to understand what Nick had been getting at originally, deferring with a vague hand-wave. "Is my loitering in the kitchen going to be too smothering for you, too, or is that okay?"

Nick rolls his eyes, flipping the radio back on to scan the channels once again. "It's fine, whatever. Just as long as you've got something better to entertain yourself than snaking the whiskey Jacob left."

"I'm more of a gin guy," John admits.

"Of course you are."

It's still a relief, though, knowing they aren't keeping an alcoholic too near his fix. On top of that, John's relaxed disregard for his past vices settles nerves Nick hadn't even realized were rattled. Sure, there's probably a whole other box of American Psycho- esque worms waiting to be opened up from John's time before Eden's Gate, but at least he seems to have comfortably packed that part of his life away for now. Unlike talking about the cult, John has no trouble dropping the conversation, just as casually as he'd brought it up. He retreats into the kitchen to mull over whatever he's written down already, leaving behind no traumatic story or sad-eyed stare — just the casual admission that he would really like to do some drugs.

Weirdly enough, that is probably the most respectable thing about John to date.

Nick spends another fifteen minutes checking the radio, scanning the channels he knows people use most. He winds up with nothing to show for it — either the storm is making radio communication impossible, or everybody else has given up on their radios. It's only after he's cleared the range twice that he flips the radio off and escapes back to Kim and Carmina, leaving John in the kitchen with a broad, somehow-sarcastic gesture towards the now unoccupied radio nook.

Carmina ropes Nick into a game of Go Fish, which Kim seems keen on losing. Nick isn't surprised — Carmina is a wily player, which is to say that she tries to bluff her way through hands with all the grace of a sledgehammer. Kim's not as willing to put up with cheating as Nick is, but neither of them are capable of even pretending to believe Carmina's poker face. It's going to be a problem one day, but Nick isn't exactly ready to teach his daughter how to lie to his face.

Well, that is until she and Nick are on their third round of Go Fish, and Nick has had to pretend not to see through all of Carmina's gambits.

He asks her if she has any threes, and she scrunches her nose up as she glances meaningfully at her cards. "Go fish," she says, making Nick regret not having Kim sit right behind their daughter as a referee.

"Fine," he grumbles, "If you say so."

Kim blinks skeptically at the pants she's fixing, but she doesn't offer Nick any out. If it weren't for his clumsy hands, maybe he could use darning socks and patching shirts as an excuse to quit playing, but as it stands, the only thing he has other than getting trounced is staring at the map with John. And since he already tried that and found it to be mildly aggravating at best...

"You know, this would be more fun with more people," Nick says, desperately glancing at Kim.

Kim, of course, gives him no quarter. "Why don't you ask John," she suggests rhetorically.

"John," Carmina calls out, "Do you wanna play Go Fish?"

Nick opens his mouth to chastise Carmina, but he realizes there's nothing to discipline her for. Especially not when John flippantly replies, "I think your father's looking to play with fewer cheaters, not more."

"I'm not cheating!" Carmina exclaims, not-so-surreptitiously pressing her cards into her lap to ensure nobody's looking at them. Between that and her guiltily furrowed brow, there's no hiding it. Her poker face needs a lot of work.

"Go Fish isn't even worth cheating at," Nick sighs, gesturing for her cards. "If that's the way you wanna play, at least do it the right way. Here, gimme your cards — John, come over here so I can teach my daughter how to lie to your face."

As if playing a game of cards with John wasn't enough to excite Carmina, she's doubly over the moon when he tells her the rules. After all, a ten-year-old girl is the prime demographic for the game Bullshit, especially when she's given carte blanche to shout cuss words at her dad. On top of that, it seems like bluffing really is half of the fun for his daughter — which is a little intimidating, sure, but at least he knows she's smart enough to understand the utility of lying.

John is... unenthusiastic, to say the least, but that only makes the prospect of humiliating him that much better. A few weeks ago, Nick would've thought John was too fragile to be messed with, but now there's a bounce in his step that will make taking him down easier. He's got to do something to remind himself that this nearly-tolerable man is usually a miserable sonofabitch.

Unfortunately, John has a fantastic poker face. Nick figured that from the get-go, but it's still daunting to play against a bored, uninterested party. That's probably why Carmina avoids John in favor of hounding Nick, calling out "bullshit!" with delightful glee whenever she thinks Nick has dropped the wrong face card or played a nine instead of a King. On the one hand, Nick appreciates that he can read her as well as she can, but on the other hand, he'd really like a chance to beat John. So far, he's the only one who's called John out, and all he has to show for it is the extra six cards in his hand.

Although Kim is on standby for this round, she keeps flashing Nick amused grins whenever Carmina calls bullshit. Nick almost hopes John can hold it together to be mundane for two entire rounds of cards because he wouldn't stand a chance against Kim.

Case in point, John lays down two cards that are meant to be threes, and Kim clicks her tongue disapprovingly. Carmina frowns up at her mom, who only shrugs and suggests, "I would call him out, if I were you."

John's neutral frown doesn't change. "Last I checked, you weren't playing," he says.

Kim only shrugs in response. Nick furrows his brow at Kim while Carmina squints suspiciously from the discard pile to John and then back again. Of course, encouraging a ten-year-old to swear is always going to win out, and so Carmina wrinkles her nose and calls John out with a slightly uncertain, "Okay, bullshit."

Without so much as a grimace of defeat, John lets Carmina flip his played cards — one three, and one dirty, rotten, lying, bullshit seven .

"That's what I thought," Kim says, flippantly triumphant. "Guess you're not as hard to read as you thought."

Nick sure can't tell what John's thinking as he lifts one shoulder noncommittally. "I stand corrected."

"Wait," Nick asks, "What gave it away?"

"I'm not helping you too , Nick," Kim laughs. "That wouldn't be fair."

"It's not exactly fair to help Carmina," John points out. Nick bets he's just as interested in what tell Kim noticed, although he manages to be less obvious about it. At least he can't crack Kim's smug smile any better than Nick, which is some small compensation.

Nick manages to win this hand, if only because his play strategy involves lying as little as possible. That seems to work against Carmina no problem, but Nick suspects John threw the game out of personal disinterest. If it weren't for the howling winds whistling through the roof and second story, John would probably excuse himself from another hand by retreating upstairs, but as it is he manages to sit through one more round of cards, this time with Kim joining in.

Carmina's poker-face doesn't improve by leaps and bounds, exactly, but she manages to fool Nick into picking up a fat stack of cards, so that's something. Too bad he'd been trying to teach her to lie to John , not her parents. Well — at least she's a nice enough kid to only do it for fun. He hopes, anyway.

Kim makes John's loss look more organic, at least, and she doesn't rub it in too badly when she wins. It's extra kind of her considering Nick is the one who called her last play bullshit, leaving him to rot in miserable third place after both his girls. Well, fine . At least Carmina seemed to have fun, even if Nick is now sitting with nearly half a deck in his hands. If the blizzard keeps up for too long, they might have to graduate to poker.

Before they can play any more card games, though, they take time out for dinner. It's almost normal, sitting around the fireplace with their military rations and some hot broth — if they were eating Marie Calendar pot-pies and watching Christmas movies, Nick would even be able to ignore John's presence sticking out like a sore thumb.

The next best thing to watching movies is talking about them, which has become something of a tradition between the Ryes. It all started in the bunker, where Kim and Nick ran out of normal Christmas stories and began taking turns narrating whatever holiday movies they could remember. They've run through all the memorable Rankin & Bass flicks, as well as a couple more contemporary ones, so they're starting to reach for their personal favorites or the very bottom of the barrel plots.

Nick intends to be paying Jingle All the Way a tribute tonight, but as soon as he mentions that the Arnold Schwarzenegger vehicle is one of his favorites, he's interrupted by John snorting derisively.

"Let me guess," Nick snaps, "You're one of those jackasses who pretends Die Hard is a legitimate Christmas movie just so he doesn't have to watch good, family-friendly content."

"It is a legitimate Christmas movie," John responds, just petulantly enough to tell Nick he hit the nail on the head.

"Look, Kim and I have already had this discussion — just because it takes place during Christmas doesn't make it a Christmas movie . Set dressing alone isn't enough!"

John raises his eyes towards the ceiling, which is as subtle as his eyerolls can get. "Whatever you say, Nick."

"What's Die Hard about?" Carmina asks, excitedly guessing, "Does Santa get to shoot people in it?"

"That would be a good Christmas movie," Nick replies. "No, it's just about some guy who has to fight bad guys in a building."

"During Christmas," Kim points out.

"Okay, fine during Christmas. But nobody's dressed up like Santa, nobody sings any carols, and there sure as hell isn't any Christmas magic that saves the day, so it doesn't count!"

"So what does happen?" Carmina asks.

Damn it — Nick should have known that talking about an action flick would immediately disinterest her towards any sloppy story about consumerism. She doesn't even know what a mall is — but she knows how to shoot a handgun, and now that Nick's thinking about it, she might need to use the duct-tape shoulder holster trick one day. It would be pretty bad-ass if she knew how, anyway.

"Okay, fine, I'll do it real quick. I don't remember all the parts, so Kim, you gotta help."

Real quick turns out to take almost as much time as the movie itself had. Kim interjects whenever Nick forgets a plot point, but at least he remembers the core conflict. Sort of, anyway — by the time he's done recounting John McClane's tale, John looks visibly dissatisfied, and Kim has a "well, sort of" expression on her face that implies he didn't quite nail the execution. Well, who cares what they think? All that matters is that Carmina is entertained, and of course she is. After all, narrated or not, it's still Die Hard . Just so long as she doesn't ask about the sequels, they should be okay.

The wind is still whipping overhead, and Nick can see nothing beyond the windows. There's no telling how late it's gotten. Although his internal clock insists it can't have been that long since sundown, Carmina has been yawning for a while now, and the fire's gone down again. It looks like sleeping through the storm is the only pastime left for Nick to try.

Carmina takes over stoking the fire for the final time before bed, while Kim makes her way upstairs to gather as much of their bedding as she can carry. John follows reluctantly behind, clearly unhappy with the prospect of facing his own cold room, but Nick figures he can deal for five damn minutes. For his part, Nick busies himself checking the radio one last time, just in case there's an emergency. He doesn't know what they'd be able to do if there was one, but that doesn't stop him from checking anyway.

With the radio situated just under the stairs, it's easy to listen in to Kim stomping around in the room above, desperate to keep her temperature up. Nick had put off too many attic repairs before this winter — he's going to have to make up for that in spring, when he and John can worm their way into the rafters and ensure that their next winter won't turn the bedrooms into a cold wasteland. Of course, even if they did patch up the gaps in the floorboards and do their best to insulate the attic, not much can beat a genuine fire in the middle of a snowstorm.

Nick isn't even paying attention to the radio, so he flips it off and trusts that everyone can keep themselves safe for another night. He hears the whump of fabric as Kim tosses their two biggest, least moldy blankets down for Carmina to start with, and the creak of footsteps on the landing overhead. Kim's voice isn't raised, but it carries down to Nick clear as a bell.

"John, you'll freeze if you stay up here," she says. "Get your stuff and come downstairs."

"It's not that cold," John says, attempting to deflect from one weak excuse with another. "I doubt Nick approved that suggestion."

Well, not technically, no, but Nick had sort of assumed they were already all on the same page. What does John think Nick's gonna do, force him to freeze upstairs so he can hog the fireplace all to himself?

Kim doesn't give the excuses a chance to breathe, replying with parental exasperation. "He and I both agree it's too cold to sleep upstairs." Nick can hear the teasing plain as day when she adds, "Just don't be weird about it."

Sure enough, suggesting John might be making things awkward is enough to get him to shut up and follow orders. Nick briefly longs for the days when John would mutely nod and do as told without any additional goading, but only for a second. Even that is long enough retrospection to remind Nick of how creepy and genuinely alarming it had been. Sure, John might get argumentative or exasperated now, but at least there's an actual person to communicate with. Nick might want to kick his ass more now than before, but he absolutely hated dealing with the hollow-eyed monster John had been.

Besides, it's way more satisfying being a dick to him now that he actually gets offended.

Despite John's furrowed-brow glares, Nick doesn't comment whatsoever on him trailing downstairs after Kim, clutching two actual blankets and a tarp that's weather-worn enough to pass muster. He stands and waits for someone to point him in the right direction as Kim and Carmina do their best to bundle together a soft place on the floor, but Nick studiously ignores him until he makes a decision himself. John takes a spot close to the fireplace, off to the right of where the girls are setting up. It's still plenty removed enough, so that nobody will get the wrong idea and think John is supposed to be welcome down here. Nick wonders who he's trying to convince, but there are so many damn demons in the man's head, it's anybody's guess.

With the fire roaring for the last time that night, all the blankets arranged and everybody looking exhausted despite not doing anything all day, Nick finally gets to crawl into bed and put this whole goddamn blizzard behind him. Hopefully, the weather has the common sense to clear up tomorrow — for now, it's time to shut out the cold entirely.

He must be tired. Nick barely stays conscious as Kim and Carmina climb under the blankets, the cool air rapidly warming as they begin to shift around and get comfortable. He rouses a few times at first as Carmina kicks his leg and Kim bumps into him, but eventually, he finds himself dozing in the silence of a quiet house. Far above them, the wind is whipping through the attic, but from down here, it sounds like a generic white-noise machine; coupled with the crackling fire, Nick is lulled to sleep by the sounds of peaceful normalcy.

Who knows how long it is before Nick finds himself conscious again. Even then, he only wakes enough to hear the dying fire popping by his feet. Maybe he should stoke it. But that would mean moving, and Nick is weighted down on either side beneath warm blankets, so that's a hard no. He tries first to roll towards Kim and Carmina, ready to curl into a ball and conserve even more heat, but his right arm is stuck. It takes a few bleary-eyed blinks to realize what's pinned him down, but he's barely coherent enough to make sense of it.

Sometime in the night, John must've migrated from the no-man's-land he'd made for himself towards the Rye's pile of blankets. Unsurprising, really — but more than a little awkward, given how he's pressed into Nick's side, pinning Nick's arm in place. Worse yet, half of his blankets have been absorbed into the mess that Nick's been using to keep warm, which is going to make extracting himself tricky if not impossible.

While he tries to figure out how to avoid making this mortifying situation worse, Nick watches John for any signs of consciousness. The guy usually sleeps light, but Nick watches his breathing for a solid minute and doesn't catch anything. Either his poker-face is just that good, or John is actually asleep. Deeply, peacefully asleep. Nick had assumed that was impossible.

If Nick were a better person, he'd probably be thankful to see it. Glad to know that John's insomnia might finally be coming to an end. But Nick is mostly just an exhausted, anxious mess, and now he's just wondering how to get out of the situation he's found himself in.

John shifts, and like a guilty ten-year-old, Nick immediately closes his eyes and pretends to be asleep. If he's lucky, John will roll away of his own volition, or at least move enough to let Nick roll over himself. If only he'd decided to sleep on Kim's side — she wouldn't have the same trouble Nick has. She'd just kick him away and be done with it.

Slowly, John moves away from Nick. The relief is short-lived as John pulls back the covers enough to send a cold chill down Nick's side; it's a split-second decision that John immediately regrets, hissing under his breath and letting the blankets fall back into place as he recoils from the freezing temperatures.

Nick can't help his quiet huff of amusement — which is enough to break the illusion that he'd been asleep in the first place. He could probably still fake it, but if he does, John will definitely try to move his blankets, and that is going to be a much bigger problem than tolerating John in his personal space.

"Quit squirming so much," Nick mutters. "Gonna let in the cold."

John is silent and tense beside him, but he does stop squirming. It's like lying near a tense bar of iron. After a brief struggle to figure out what to say, John's embarrassment catches in his voice as he apologizes. "I'm sorry," he rasps. "I — must have been tired."

Nick sighs. "Just don't crush my arm again."

Even though John moves as though Nick threatened him, he stops short of retreating from the blankets entirely. Nick can only imagine how cold it must be — every breath of his that makes it above the blanket-line comes with a faint puff of visible air. No matter how humiliating it might be to cuddle up to Nick, it doesn't seem like John had much of a choice in the matter.

Before John can decide to try escaping again, Nick repeats, "Whatever you do, don't let in the cold."

In for a penny, Nick decides, worming deeper into the makeshift bed so that John can have more room. Rolling over is the easiest way to avoid the mortifying process of finding a comfortable sleeping arrangement. Eventually, they wind up back-to-back; Nick normally wouldn't be able to stand John touching him, but the additional body-heat does a lot to soothe Nick's reservations. Who knew all he needed to tolerate John's physical presence would be cold weather and exhaustion?

The Deputy, probably, which only makes Nick grin in tired relief. At least they would be glad to know that Nick's grown as a person. They'd probably be glad to learn he's finally gotten on-board with not murdering the Seeds in cold blood — even if it took an apocalypse to get there. If they could see the shit he's gotten himself into now, they'd probably...

He sighs. It must be a heavier sound than he imagined, because John whispers, "What?"

"Nothing," Nick says immediately, as default an answer as John's yeses are. But that's not fair, he doesn't think, because they never let John get away with his obvious deflections. As late as it is, it's easy to blame his guilt on his exhaustion. "Just thinking about Rook," he admits.

"Oh."

John is clearly uncomfortable with the topic, but he doesn't react when Nick continues sleepily, "They'd get a kick outta this, is all."

John hums. It's a quiet noise, but Nick can feel it vibrate through John's shirt. If there are two people Nick hates bringing Rook up around, it's Sharky and John. Sure, Sharky's crush was the one that was reciprocated, but Dep had always treated John's flat-footed overtures like creepy compliments instead of outright threats. They'd probably figured John's crush was superficial, whereas Sharky's had been more real than probably anything else Nick had seen the poor sap go through. John's infatuation had been about power, control, and Joseph goddamn Seed. Still, Nick can't help but wonder just how much of it might've been real to John at the time.

"They had a bad sense of humor," John finally responds, quietly enough that Nick almost misses the hurt.

"Terrible," Nick agrees.

When John sighs, Nick recognizes it as a sign of defeat. Whatever he's debating with himself, he's clearly lost. Although he doesn't speak up again, Nick isn't sure he's gone back to sleep. He sure hopes he didn't just instill another restless night in the guy, but that's John's burden to bear. Maybe he can use it to finally find some common ground with Sharky.

Nick isn't even sure that he can fall back asleep, but that doesn't seem to matter. Before he knows it, he's being woken up once more — this time by a glance of sunlight coming in through the upper part of the windows. It's just enough light to wake him, but he spends an exhausted minute staring at the wall over Kim's shoulder as he debates whether or not he's really committing this time. He's going to need to use the bathroom sooner or later — and just thinking that is enough to tell Nick that he's not getting back to sleep again.

John's back is still facing Nick, and Kim rolls away as soon as Nick starts to squirm, which leaves his path to escape much more open than it was a few hours ago. He manages to pull himself free without waking anyone else, but as soon as he does, John worms into the warm spot left behind. Nick should probably be upset, but mostly he just needs to pee. He can kick John out of his spot after he takes care of himself.

Nick leaves the rest of them to sleep as he tiptoes across the living room to the front door. Unfortunately, the door only wedges open an inch before it hits a wall of snow. Unwilling to wake anyone else up with catastrophic noise, Nick heads upstairs, going for the broken window in John's room. It's freezing up here, cold enough to keep meat until spring, and Nick pulls his flannel closer as he crosses the room, trying not to take too much stock of his surroundings. He doesn't care about the tallies John used to carve in the wall by his bed, and he definitely doesn't care to snoop through the pile of clothes that John's been growing in the corner. What he does care about is how easy it is to crawl out onto the roof from the window — after all, this isn't the first time Nick's been snowed in, and he's made escaping his childhood home an art-form.

There's a good three and a half feet of snow on the ground below, blocking any exit from the first floor. At least the gray sky above is calm, and the weather seems to have calmed down some. They'll have to prepare for another couple of inches before the week's out, but Nick bets the worst of it is over. Now he can think about breakfast — more specifically, coffee — and debate the best way to clear the doorways. They need a path out to the hangar, although they can wait another day or two before they'll need to press the matter. Nick's still convinced there's a set of tire chains hiding away in there, but it's not like the roads will be in any condition to drive on for a while yet...

Nick spends so much time thinking about what he's got to do, he forgets to consider how willing the rest of the house will be to pitch in. The top-of-the-snow sunlight isn't enough heat to make up for the lack of a fire, and getting Kim out from under the blankets is gonna be like pulling teeth until he does something about it. Worse yet, John's rolled into the spot Nick had occupied — not exactly sprawled out, or anything, but the guy is irritatingly close to Kim's sleeping back. If he decided to roll one more time, he'd probably end up smacking his face into her shoulder.

Nick considers throwing a fit on principle, but honestly, that's too much work. It's much easier to sulk, glowering at the bed he's definitely not getting back into before getting some logs to stack in the fire. He drops them noisily by John's feet, although he makes every effort not to accidentally pull a Misery on the guy.

The sound of hollow wood clattering on the ground is enough to stir John, who wakes with a sharp inhale, and cause Carmina to groan and turn away from the noise. Kim has probably been awake for a while now, but it won't make a lick of difference until the fire's on.

He turns away to toss the logs semi-haphazardly into the fireplace, then remembers the kindling and turns to get it. John has propped himself on his elbows, but his half-waking confusion causes him to overlook Nick entirely as he stares around the room. Seeing Kim and Carmina asleep next to him is initially met with confusion. He barely seems to recognize the shapes bundled in the blankets, but when he does he recoils in shock. All the nasty comments Nick had thought up take an abrupt backseat as he stops to marvel at the physical repulsion John shows. He's not sure if he should be offended or not. Probably not, but this apocalypse has got Nick wired all wrong.

"She's not gonna bite," Nick says. John whips his attention back to Nick the moment he raises his voice, only for Nick to realize that looming over the guy with a thick block of wood in hand might send the wrong message.

Sure enough, John catches sight of him, jerking back with a startled hiss. " Jesus !"

"Shit, sorry." Nick turns and drops the log, wincing at the noise that he'd moments ago been deliberately making. "Well, judging from that reaction, looks like this isn't the first time a man's caught you in bed with his wife."

John's withering glare is enough to lift Nick's mood right up. He turns his attention back to starting the fire, listening as John slowly shifts his way free of the blankets. Part of him wants to make a few more jokes at John's expense, but that can wait until John's coherent enough to be snide in return.

Nick gets the fire going and turns to follow John, who's made his way into the kitchen to peer out the window. "Completely snowed in," Nick tells him as he gets the instant coffee and the beat-up kettle. "But it looks like the worst of it's over."

"Seems to be," John agrees, adding, "We forgot the shovels in the truck. It's going to be difficult digging them out now."

"Not a lot of other options, unless you wanna stay inside until the big thaw. Don't worry, I'm sure Carmina will be excited to help us dig."

John hums in assent, although his mind seems to be somewhere else. Nick can't help but notice that John's pensive states seem damned near reasonable nowadays. He has plenty to think about, and he seems to be keeping one foot in the here-and-now. He's aware enough of his surroundings that he stops Nick before he can leave John to it.

He tries to stare Nick down, but he can't quite manage it. "Thank you for not..."

John gestures vaguely as the rest of the sentence fails to generate. Nick could probably wait it out, but he's just as embarrassed as John apparently is, and he would rather move past the whole thing.

"Don't worry about it," Nick says. "Just don't get too comfortable cuddling up to me."

Rolling his eyes doesn't hide John's faint smile, but he turns away before Nick can see if it lasts. "That won't be a problem, trust me."

Nick is surprised that he does, even for something as small and inconsequential as a joke. "Grab the mugs when you're done looking for Santa," he says, turning back for the warmth of the fire. A few months ago, Nick might've resented how eroded the line has become between John and his own family, but it's honestly too much work to keep up. At a certain point, they're just going to have to include John in their daily routines — Nick just hadn't expected that point to be made by sharing blankets during a blizzard.

Well, there's one good thing about that, Nick supposes — it means that somewhere up there, the Deputy is watching over them. After all, there's no way in hell random chance has the same shitty sense of humor as Rook had.

#fcnd #john seed #nick rye #kim rye #christmas fic #mercyverse #my fic #i don't even use that tag any more wtf??? whatever #love you guys have a safe holiday <3

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a-totally-legit-farm · 5 years

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Marmalade’s Winter’s Star Party

// Hey y’all, this year I was Shio’s ( @stardeworanges ) secret santa for our discord community secret santa! It took me forever but I present to you ‘Marmalade’s Winter’s Star Party’, a story with a bit of fluff, a bit of edge, and then some more fluff, with some guest appearences in there too.

The full version can be found under the cut, or you can read the story HERE.

I hope you like it shio!!

Word Count: 3022

_______________________________________________________________

Marmalade looked down at her latest accomplishment: a small stack of laminated cards, each one addressed to the friends she had made – her Valley family. There were about 50 cards, everyone from Sebastian to Gus was invited. Names embossed in cursive detailed the addressee of each invitation. The orange-haired woman was so proud of her little cards – she had designed them from scratch, from the colours on the bordering, to the little intricate mistletoe and stars adorning the corners. They were her own little doodles, quite well-done considering Marmalade had never considered herself an artist. In all honesty, Marm had gone a little over the top with these preparations, which had become obvious after she had created a 50-page binder complete with individual greetings, an array of feast meals and cocktails, and even mood boards to pin the perfect aesthetic. But she had a mission, and by Yoba, she would do whatever it took to achieve it.

Her smile softened. The Winter’s Star had always meant so much to her. When she was a little girl, she’d always visit her grandpa for his Winter’s Star festivities. Many a memory was dotted with her kind grandpa’s grin, the smell of warm cocoa, and the flashing of festive lights; the raucous of townspeople sharing hot drinks and good food. But those memories were fading with age, and Marmalade knew that she had to take up the mantle. She was going to throw the perfect Winter’s Star feast. She was going to honour her grandpa’s legacy.

And the next step to doing so was dispersing these slick-looking invitations to their rightful owners. Most important on her list was Clark, her best friend, and the newly appointed mayor. She hadn’t seen him in a few days – the farmhand had been tied up with bureaucratic red tape left behind by a spiteful Lewis. The poor man had been running circles around the town, attempting to get at least somewhere with his new legislation. Well, there was at least a slim silver lining to that storm cloud – Marmalade knew exactly where he would be.

It was a short walk from the farm to the town, though the brisk winter winds would require a Winter’s Star sweater, and of course, the tackier the better. She scanned her drawer for the best candidate: a red and white wool monstrosity, with “Orange you glad it’s winter” knitted in a box. Perfect. The sweater slipped on, gloriously awful pun present in yellow text, a pair of oranges decorating the inscription. She wrapped a scarf around her bare neck, her orange locks falling over the dark, soft material. Finally, she swung her backpack on, filled with a water bottle, some orange slices, and the crux of it all, her invitations.

Without a misstep, Marmalade was out the door, the brisk winter winds and the ankle-deep snow neither bothering nor hindering the ginger on her mission. Winter always brought a unique beauty to the Valley, bare skeletons of trees sleeping for the winter, and those brilliant blue berries poking up through the white terrain. One of Marmalade’s favourite sights had to be spotting the holly berries and crocus flowers in the dense snow. Wet gravel crunched under her feet as Marmalade trekked on. Her mental checklist of places to stop kept growing. Gotta invite Pippa and Rue and Dae! I’ll stop on the way. And I’m sure Cherry will be home – and maybe Nikoma and Jenna will come… Then I should stop at Pierre’s for some more supplies. Oh, and of course, Clark, in the town hall!

She smiled once more to herself.

Winter 26th was going to be the best Winter’s Star party anybody had ever been to!

_______________________________________________________________

Clark ran his fingers through his dense, blond curls, the toll of being constantly busy affecting the usual lustre of his hair. He grimaced at the paperwork in front of him, feeling each and every monotonous, tedious word sap strength from his dwindling will to keep reading. He loved being mayor. He loved the warm appreciation of the townsfolk as he walked the streets of the Valley, he loved the constant support and trust. He loved that he was elected the Mayor. He did not love the piles of paperwork constantly inhabiting his in-tray, perched eternally on the right of his desk. The dark circles under his eyes evident of his sleeplessness, his expression stony as he stared down the stack of sheets sitting, waiting, mocking – Clark wanted nothing more than to slam his head into the desk. He pulled at his red tie, loosening its grip around his wrinkled, white button-up shirt, sleeves cuffed awkwardly around his tanned wrists. That was one thing he did miss – the blue jeans, the red flannel, the straw hat, but there was something about office-wear that really made his pecs look juicier, so he was willing to compromise. A groan escaped him, forcing its way through his teeth, as his eyes wandered towards the window, looking for anything to fuel his procrastination…

And as if summoned by Yoba himself, Marmalade burst through his office door, face alight with happiness.

She was a radiant beam of sunlight in the poorly lit office, and she couldn’t help but bring a grin to Clark’s mug. Her silly holiday sweater procured a chuckle from the exhausted ex-farmhand – it was just like Marm to be a walking pun. The woman basically bounced to the front of his desk, striking a little pose before rummaging through her pack. It was obvious Marmalade was very excited, and Hayesmith was ready for whatever the exuberant redhead was going to throw at him.

“Mayor Clark,” Marmalade’s voice rung with a silliness that she only showed around her closest friends, “I would like to cordially invite you to Miss Marmalade’s Winter Star feast party!” She slapped down the invitation on top of all of his paperwork, its festive design a winter star compared to the drab documents underneath. Clark let out another one of his gruff chuckles. “Not even a howdy before the theatrics.” Marmalade’s face went a shade of bashful pink, the playful act dialled back a bit from the cowboy’s ribbing.

“Now y’know I’m jokin’ there, Marm. I’d be pleased to make it.” He lifted the card up, inspecting the calligraphy – Clark Hayesmith, You are invited to my Winter’s Star party, 6 PM on Winter 27th. See you there! He tucked the invitation away in his pocket – it had been a while since the man had been able to socialise, and he was looking forward to the opportunity.

“Say Marm, who’ve you invited to this lil’ shindig?” Oh, how Marmalade had missed his deep, soothing drawl – and boy did she have a list of names for him. “Well, Pippa and her crew are coming, and Clive, uhh Sebastian and Maru said they would come, Red and Derek, Abigail… Nikoma sighed at me and said ‘fine’ so I’m assuming he’s coming… Jenna and Haley said yes too! Oh, and Jenna has an assistant now? And Amelia, Ainsley, Edel…” The names kept coming, and Clark’s excitement to flex his social and physical muscles was only growing.

“Trust me darl’, I’ll be there, I wouldn’t miss it for th’world . Now, I better get a hustle with this work, or I’ll be stuck here till the party’s over.” Clark shook his head in exaggerated despair, and Marmalade let out a small chuckle. “Okay Clark. See you at the party!”

“See y’all at the party, Marm.” Clark waved as Marm hurried out the door, the farmer eager to deliver the rest of her invitations. The new mayor-elect pulled out his invitation once more.

He grinned, and for the first time in what seemed like days, he actually wanted to finish his paperwork. A party clearly makes for a mighty fine motivator.

Winter 27th was going to be the best Winter’s Star party he’d ever been to.

_______________________________________________________________

It was 7:56 PM on Winter 26th.

The ticking of the kitchen clock on the wall had drove her crazy. It now laid facedown on the tiled floor.

Marmalade glared at the door. She sat alone, at her dining table, 34 different plates of food sitting, cold, untouched, abandoned on the dark cherry wood, uncovered and unprotected from the cold night air. The fire had burned out about half an hour ago – what was the point of keeping a fire burning if no one was here to stay warm?

Marmalade glared at the door. She hadn’t touched any of the food she had slaved the day away cooking. She hadn’t had a sip of the punch, or the soup, or the wine. She was at first waiting for someone to come, to share the food with, but after an hour of sitting alone she had thoroughly lost her appetite.

Marmalade glared at the door – only pausing to wipe the tears defiantly escaping her eyes. She had told herself she wouldn’t cry. It didn’t matter if no one had come. She was sure there were reasons why they hadn’t come, but no one had even called to inform her. Maybe they just weren’t her friends. She had always thought that at least a few of the farmers had been left with good impressions of her. The anti-social ones, she understood – those like Katherine, afraid of people, or Nikoma, annoyed by people – but the extroverts? Cherry? Pippa? Red? Where were they?

The only conclusion Marmalade could come to was they didn’t care. They must have had other plans, or had forgotten, they must have been too busy with their lives to remember Marmalade’s party. She sniffled, wiping away more tears that had forced their way down her face. She had to reason with herself. After all, yesterday was the Winter’s Star Feast, and everyone would be tired…

Even Clark, her best friend, her old farmhand, was too busy for her. It must have been his new job…

Marmalade glared at the door. The door swung open. Tension was almost palpable in the air as Marmalade tensed up – tears at this point were streaming over her blushed cheeks, make-up running. Clark walked in, sighing. He had yet to look up, his head was hung low, the strain of sitting at a desk all day leaving a myriad of cricks in his neck and back.

The cowboy could tell Marmalade was in earshot, and he called out while taking his shoes off. “Hey Marm, excited for your party tomor-…” Finally, his gaze swung up to meet Marmalade’s glare.

Time froze as he scanned the room; the festive decorations, the tinsel-covered tree, the holly and mistletoe and wreaths hanging from every possible point. The banquet of food laid out in spectacular fashion. The poor, lonely woman, sitting isolated amongst the festivities.

Uh-oh.

Marm broke down. The floodwalls failed, and she began sobbing, only quietly, but there was no other noise – all Clark could hear was Marmalade’s soft weeping. Immediately, he moved towards her, trying to protectively wrap himself around her, in an attempt to shield the orange-haired woman from what had happened in her own dining room. She protested, albeit weakly, beating closed fists against his brawny chest. It didn’t last long, as those beating fists uncurled into fingers gripping his shirt, knuckles clenched white, the fabric a lifeline to Clark as Marmalade pressed her tear-soaked face into him.

Clark didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t even entirely sure what happened – her party wasn’t supposed to take place until tomorrow evening… Unless she didn’t know that. The invitations must have been wrong. The cowboy shook his head. All of Marmalade’s meticulous planning, all of her expertise and effort, left to rot because of a typo on the invitations. Clark knew what he had to do.

Clark continued to hold Marm as she wept out her grievances, Clark affirming her and hushing her softly. It didn’t take long for Marmalade’s crying to slow – it was clear now, obviously the town didn’t hate her. But it didn’t matter. The party was a failure, and she had spent so much time and effort and money on this one, she had nothing left to throw another one. It was all a waste, and everyone was going to be disappointed.

All Clark could do was hold the woman, assuring her that the townsfolk wouldn’t be mad. He told her stories about his failed events in the past, about his week and all the mess-about that went into being mayor, about how people were kind, and forgiving, especially in these parts. For about 40 minutes, the pair laid spread out on the on the cold tiled floor, Marmalade’s head still on Clark’s chest, time passing in an emotion-filled haze.

It was 9:03 PM on Winter 26th, according to Clark’s wristwatch.

He knew exactly what he had to do to make this right. As Marmalade drifted to sleep, he swept her up, and escorted her to her bed – and then he was out the door. He knew most of the farmers and townsfolk would be winding down for the night, but if he knew this Valley, he knew that they would come together for something this important, especially for the mayor.

Well no, actually.

They’d come together, especially for Marmalade.

Clark had to make sure that Winter 27th was going to be the best Winter’s Star party Marmalade had ever been to.

_______________________________________________________________

It was 9:04 AM on Winter 27th, according to the clock Marmalade had picked up off the floor.

She was still a little down – she had thrown all the wasted food in the bin, and tried to salvage what had kept, but it all felt like a big mistake. She was now sitting at the dining table, staring absent-mindedly at the door. Clark was nowhere to be seen, again, as always. The farmer didn’t want to walk out that door, didn’t want to have to tell everyone the party was cancelled.

But she was a brave woman, and she’d let most of the negativity out last night. She wasn’t ready to do it yet, though. No, she’d check the mail, and then finish her coffee. Then she’d set off to let the public know of her shame.

The woman stood up, stretching her haunches, mug of hot, black coffee clutched tightly. A small amount of the life-saving ichor had stained the sleeve of her long sweater, but that was fine, it was just a pyjama top anyway. The soft fleecy fabric was a latte-foam tan, with the sleeves slightly too long, and honestly, the small brown stains added to the look. Marmalade ambled towards the door, procrastinating her eventual exposure to the outside elements.

It was just the mail.

She’d have to face the world eventually.

She swung the door open – and dropped her mug.

Laid out on the front lawn, cleared of snow, was tables of food. Fresh prepared meats, plates of berries and fruits – all in season, all garnished with those dark green leaves that survived the winter chill – bowls of punch and liquor and crates of wine laid out, hot coffee and soups simmering over small fires. And with it all, stood all the farmers she had invited to yesterday’s party.

Warm smiles from familiar faces all began turning towards Marmalade, the breaking of ceramic and the splashing of coffee alerting the people laying out this feast on her front lawn. It felt like a dream – the slow roll of applause started to crawl across the crowd, and before long they were all cheering at (or cheering for, more likely) Marmalade.

Friends and acquaintances from all around the Valley were present – she immediately noticed the tall figures of Barclay, Rue and Bernard, discussing fishing in the mines (a very controversial topic, apparently), with Pippa and Red inspecting the miner’s latest find close by. Edel, Katherine, Mona and Amelia sipped at Kat’s latest champagne, the bubbly enticing enough to drink even this early in the morning. Alex and Cherry were carving roast chicken, while Ainsley and Delaney seemed to be debating what exactly defined a ‘soup’. Jenna and Haley chatted away with Vi, Percival and a pair of siblings who Marmalade hadn’t seen before – but they were all far too dressed up, clearly. Even the recluses had turned out; Anderson and Morrison stood at the end of a table, alone, and Nikoma sat in a pile of snow, flask in hand. And that wasn’t even most of the people Marmalade could recognise – about 60 bodies, more than she had ever invited, stood around, having a good time, eating food and drinking merrily, just as she had envisioned for her party…

And right, smack-bang in the middle of them all was Clark, those new, dark rings under his eyes the blackest she’d ever seen them. He had been up all night, corralling the locals into coming together, pooling their resources, cooking and brewing and shovelling snow, to throw Marmalade the best Winter’s Star party that she had ever been to.

Marmalade hopped over the shattered mug, and ran straight into his arms, once again pressing her face into his broad chest. There was no way this was all happening, and yet, it seems Clark had made it happen.

A few tears stained that same, white shirt he was wearing last night.

“Thank you so much, Clark! Thank you…”

Clark smiled warmly, his tired eyes softening as he patted Marmalade on the back.

“Not a worry in the world, Marm. You know I -… You know this town would do anything for you.”

Marmalade could feel the kindness in her soul, the flame that had been doused last night, reignite within her. She couldn’t ask for anything more, to be surrounded by those she lives with, to supply the space for her community to be happy, to be safe, and to have a good Winter’s Star. To take up the mantle of her grandfather. She pulled herself from Clark, and looked around at all of her friend’s faces, warm drinks and good food in their hands.

This was going to be the best Winter’s Star party ever.

#long post #secret santa 2019 #stardeworanges #drabble #event drabble #i hope you like it shio!!!!!

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queensdivas · 5 years

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Otters Part 2

It’s kind of short...kind of SMUTTY!!! THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I’VE EVER WRITTEN SMUT AND IF IT’S BAD I AM SO DAMN SORRY! PLUG IT UP LADIES AND GENTS! I PROMISE IMA GET BETTER WRITING AT SMUT FOR YA!

PART 1

You eventually got tired of doodling with your project that you passed out in the middle of working on it. Your dream which turned into some sort of flashback was the night that you and Joe finally moved into your own apartment in lower Manhattan but close enough to the main strip of New York. It had your own little room to work on your art since you finally made it big in the art scene to the point the metropolitan museum was looking to display your art!

That night was also the night you accidently made your sweet Angel Bevvie. But it was the most wonderful night of your life. You were covered head to toe in paint since you were working on a large field mural that was a mixture of the different kinds of sunflowers. One of the hardest pieces you’ve done so far in your career.

Joe walked into your studio to see your hair was an absolute mess, you wearing one of his old shirts, and nothing else. Your thighs looked delicious in his eyes and the fact that you weren’t wearing anything else drove him wild.

His hands gripped your waist softly as you continued working on one of the sunflowers and trying not to mess up. His lips pressing under your right ear as his hands snuck to the front of your thigh to give it a light squeeze.

“Babe. I would love nothing more than to have a fun night with you and for us to stay in bed. But I really need to fin..” His hands snuck down to the front where his middle finger began making the tiniest circles on your clut. His breath tickling your neck as you tried to focus on your painting.

“Babe..plea..” His finger began rubbing harder yet still small circles. The brush was shaking in your hands to the point you dropped it on the floor. Your breathing began to pick up a little bit as those circles began moving rapidly.

“Can’t resist me can you?” Growling into your ear as you pushed back against him with your hand grabbing on the side of his hair to give it a little pull. He began leaving pecks across your neck and around your jaw as you were already near the edge. How could he do this to you? What sort of magic does this man have over me!? Instantly stopping to spin you around and ripping the shirt you had on and your hands accidentally cupped his face which had paint on them.

“Oh my gosh hahaha. So sorry!” You giggled as he grabbed the bottle of red paint to pour some in his hand. He squeezed the bottle into his palm then putting his hand on your face. Not around your mouth but close enough to where you accidentally put the paint that was on his.

“You brat!” You giggled as you began unbuttoning his shirt then grabbing the yellow paint to then squeeze a little on your finger. Your finger began leaving a trail down through the open part of his shirt. His eyes were predatory as your other hand began working on his chest.

“You can’t resist me..can you?” Chuckling at Joe as you put down the bottle of paint on the floor to begin undoing his pants. Getting down on his knees then yanking down his pants including his boxers. But you were planning on teasing him and covering him head to toe in paint so you two could take a long shower.

Grabbing and squeezing more yellow paint into your hands to then mix it around before your hands ran up his thighs then up to his waist. His head fell back as you took him into your mouth with your hands then going as high as they could. Swallowing him whole instantly then digging your nails into his chest to slowly drag them down which left lines in the paint.

“Fuck..(y/n)..” Bobbing your head with such passion was driving him mad. His paint soaked hands gripping into your hair to move your head faster. But your nails digging into his chest to have him stop so you could continue milking him leasurily so you could also drive him to the edge.

Popping out of his mouth as your right hand held it up with your tongue going down to the base to then licking your way up steadily as his knees were practically shaking at your tongue. To think you can make him so weak with only your tongue. Following the same pattern again as he began leaking precum all over your lips. He bucked his hips forward trying to put it back into your mouth.

“God you really can’t resist me can’t you baby? You want your cock in my mouth so badly?” Giving it a quick full head then standing back up to then shove your tongue down his throat. His hands pulled your tighter into his body where both of his hands grabbed your ass then spanking it hard, causing you to jump a little from it.

“For some reason I want more paint on you..more paint to make us even closer..” Joe whispered grabbing more of the red paint to squeeze the bottle on his hands then tracing from the top of my back right down to my ass.

The urge got so bad for you that you leaped up onto his waist, wrapping your legs around his waist so that he would get the message. Nodding as he dropped the bottle of paint to grip your ass and moving to the closest wall.

“Oh yes baby..I’m going to fucking destroy you..” Growling as your back was against the wall as he lowered you down onto him. Stretching your walls and since it’s been a good while since you and Joe had sex since he was busy with his work. God his cock was filling you all the way, your toes curling with shivers running hasty up and down your spinal cord.

His hips began slamming into you as you began yanking his hair since he was already hitting that deliciousness already. So eager..so lustful! Relentless raiming into you against the wall as your moans were turning into a light scream. The ramming stopped as he had to catch his breath for a moment. Letting you down so that he could lay on his back then you climbing on top of him.

“Bounce babe..fucking..bounce..”Doing as he ordered you began to lower yourself down onto him and the aura changed around you two. From lustful want to greed of each other cum. You craved his cum inside you like it was some kind of sweet to you. He wanted yours like it was water and he had been in the desert for days!

Your bouncing became erratic and in not set beat because you craved every drop of that delicious cum. And nothing made you more ecstatic then when it would shoot inside of you. His fingers began fucking your clit again as you were getting so damn close again.

“Fuck baby..keep going..” Your walls squeezed around his cock so you could milk the living hell out of him! You didn’t even realize you had this kind of power till the moment his fingers were demolishing your entire body with these pleasures. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!

“Baby...HOLY FUCK!”

“(Y/N)!” You were woken up then practically freaking out in your seat for a moment till you realize where you were. In Front of the diner!

“(Y/N). You okay? God you’re red..did you have some kind of bad dream?” Your physical appearance said yes, your mental and emotional self was having a very very wet dream what was interrupted!

“Just peachy baby. Just had a very..strange dream.” Laughing at yourself as you looked back to see Bevvie and Joey were waking up and seeing that they were at the diner. Beginning to get excited in their seat as you climbed out of the car then getting Joey out his car seat first then putting him on the ground. He tried making a run for it but stopped halfway because he knew better than to run off. Bevvie was glued to Joe but was awake this time, Joey grabbed my hand as he helped open the door for the three of us, then running head to the other one to open as well.

“Why what a little gentlemen you are young man.” The greeter was at the podium as Joey smiled and put his hands on his hips.

“Yup! Mom always said to hold the door open!” Showing off his cute little smile as the greeter grabbed the menus.

“Well you’re gonna be such a gentleman when you’re all grown up. If you’ll just follow me please.” Joey immediately followed her with us following behind. She sat us down at the far booth with Joey climbing into it then Bevvie climbed down from Joe to sit next to him.

“Let me guess you two. Which one of you is gonna get those double chocolate chip pancakes?” Joe asked them as they both raised their hands!

“MMEE!” They were in sync as Joe nodded.

“Now who's going to share their pancakes with dad.” Immediately and in sync once again put their hands down then shook their heads.

“That’s not fair you two.” He began to fake pout to then put the menu in front of his face. Raising two kids is one thing..but raising three kids...that’s just completely unfair.

~~ @mexifangorl @i-live-for-queen @leah-halliwell92 @its-funny-til-its-not @rawyld

#joe mazzello #joe mazello x reader #joe #joe mazello one shot #joe mazzello fluff #joe mazello imagine #joe mazzello smut #joe mazello smut

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sheanam · 5 years

Text

Outliers Who’s Who!

Actually you know what, it’s been a long time since I talked about my characters to any degree at all, and I’ve seen friends make fun posts about their own crews lately, so between all the goofy random doodles I do with little explanation and my webcomic Outliers being on hiatus for several months due to unavoidable irl circumstances, I feel it’s probably a good time to introduce all you lovely recent followers to the people I like to draw all the time, and also give a refresher to the awesome patient folks who’ve been following for a while! And properly introduce a couple new faces I’ve only just started drawing!

Outliers is a romantic slice-of-life focusing on Walt and Chary, a long-time gay couple, and assorted other characters doing their best to live their lives in a world full of superpowers and aliens and magic and other comic book cliches; it follows them through the years and there’s all manner of life events and such. Shit Happens now and again, but there’s lots of positivity and cute people and occasional goofiness. And date nights. And bird monsters.

The following are (plot spoiler-free!) blurbs on the two main characters of the comic, plus several assorted supporting characters, some of whom I don’t draw as much as I should but are important and who I’m fond of, and some who won’t actually show up in the comic for a looong time but I love them very very much and can’t stop drawing and thinking about them. There are other background characters, lots of ‘em, but (most of) these guys are the ones you’ll see me draw the most often on this here blog!

Zachary ‘Chary’ C. Milford

One of the two mains. A big, chubby, gentle guy with sleepy sad eyes who’s genuinely a nice person, occasionally grumbly but soft-hearted to a fault. Indiana Hoosier and midwestern as hell, raised by a single mom. Loves dad jokes and puns, cheesy ties and collecting records, is bi and has been dating Walt for the better part of a decade. They’re pretty damn inseparable at this point. A few years back was horribly injured and left disabled and scarred after getting caught in a terrible supervillain attack. It can be tough, but he tries not to let it slow him down. Is the good sort of lawyer and rarely swears, radiates pure Dad Energy at all times.

Walter T. Corvi

The other of the two mains. Short-ish, slender, swears like a boatload of sailors. Currently identifies as a gay nonbinary man and uses he/him and they/them pronouns, is pretty feminine in most of his presentation choices, going between fashionable as hell and frumpy comfort depending on mood. A middle child, hails from one of the rich parts of Long Island, but it doesn’t take much for him or his large Italian family to sound like extras from The Nanny. Is a metahuman with the superpower to turn into a big ‘wereraven’ type bird monster, which runs fairly commonly in their family, but chose to stay out of the hero business. Works as a cook and is great at it, it’s a passion of his.

Hoshiko ‘Iko’ Nieri

Iko is of mixed race, but primarily identifies as Japanese. She’s also a lawyer, tough as nails and also the good sort, and Chary’s co-worker and friend. She’s cis, but prefers and feels happy not being particularly feminine most of the time. Works out a lot and has a mean right hook and a delightfully obnoxious laugh.

Keeg-Ok

Keeg’s a weird huge gargoyle monster dude from a magical pocket dimension who got dumped out into the ‘main’ one. Exceptionally friendly and sunny, he adapted to modern everyday life quickly, building a career as a cook (he loves fancy cooking) and a family of his own. Walt’s co-worker and friend. Your best spiky friend if you let him be.

Mary Hell

The young daughter of a human man and a demon from ‘down under’. Cheerful, pleasant, and eager to please, she’s taking steps to become a fully licensed superhero and use her powers for good. A member of the metahuman support group Chary and Iko support as its legal team. Yes, her name’s a pun.

Edmund Irving Rudyard Hawke II

Edmund 2.0 is probably more accurate, honestly. Edmund Hawke Sr. was your standard evil comic book CEO, like Lex Luthor or Kingpin, and when he died heirless he had his organization make a clone of him to inherit and take over the company and continue their work. It was very successful...except that in terms of personality and morals, Ed turned out absolutely nothing like him. Excitable, eager to please, anxious, lonely, slightly flamboyantly gay and full of all sorts of emotional and mental and existential issues, Ed does his very best to be his own person and be more than a figurehead puppet, using his resources and power for good. Was ‘born’ in the US but has a British accent from being ‘tweaked’ to better match the original Edmund. Lacks context for a lot of things and imprints on people who are nice to him like a baby duck.

Dustin Smalls

Somehow fell into the position of being Edmund’s personal assistant, a position of unexpected power and influence. Mostly runs around keeping Ed out of trouble and educating him on things, and protecting him from people taking advantage of or outright abusing him. To his surprise, wound up becoming super best friends with Ed, which evolved into a complicated but deep queerplatonic relationship. Tired Trans, actually has albinism to a small degree but he doesn’t have cliche red eyes so it surprises people. Cranky, loves shitty memes and video games, hates ‘You’re killing me Smalls’ jokes and will tell you exactly why The Sandlot is problematic shit. His other best friend is Pam, his wife who he’s in an open relationship with.

Pamela Flores

Wife and other best friend of Dustin. They’re nesting partners; it’s a very well-functioning open marriage agreed to by both parties, she has a girlfriend who’s her primary romantic interest, and Dustin dabbled around now and again before meeting Edmund. Also trans; the two actually met at a fertility clinic where they’d both gone to freeze some of their DNA. Sweet, supportive, can be deadly serious and firm when the need arises.

#outliers #chary #walt #iko #keeg #mary hell #edmund #dustin #pam #long post #original characters #character list #VERY long post

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metiterasu · 5 years

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Inktober/OCtober Week 1

I’m going to be posting these in batches of weeks to give myself time to catch up if I need it! Every week will have 7 doodles plus a short story to go along with each one.

So I decided to just make this a Llyra study month since I’ve been missing writing and drawing her!

I made these following @oc-growth-and-development ‘s prompt list for this year.

Day 1 - Beginnings

The sounds of the train starting on its journey rang in Llyra’s ears, bringing a smile to her face. She made her way from her seat to the back of the train, out onto the small balcony.

As the train pulled out of the station, she stared off into the night sky, leaning on the railing. “This is it” she thought, “I’ll finally learn something new.”

She glanced back at her bag, thoughts wandering to the spellbook and wand waiting inside, of the spells buzzing in her mind as she mentally went over her routine for the entrance exam in the morning. Thilmserine was a small town, tucked away in the mountains and far too small and boring for her tastes. But the wondrous tales she had heard of the nearby Abizum Academy had set her heart aflame.

Her smile grew wider as she watched her hometown shrink in the distance until it disappeared from view. She turned from her spot on the balcony and made her way back to her seat, turning her back on Thilmserine and towards her new beginning.

Day 2 - Dance

Music floats softly throughout the garden, a nearby bard practicing for his show, no doubt. Many were up dancing while most stuck to the outside tables, sharing drinks and laughing, celebrating surviving the recent vampire attack on the town.

Llyra taps her fingers on the table to the beat of the music, itching to get up and move but her companions seemed content to mill around their table. Her eyes wander around her party until landing on her dragonborn friend. A soft smile appears on her face as Pokke notices her gaze.

“Dara, would you like to dance?”

“Eh?” Pokke tilts her head to one side, “Me?”

“Of course. Come on, it’ll be fun!” Llyra stands up and offers her hand out.

Pokke sighs and takes the hand extended to her “You won’t take no for an answer, huh?”

“Nope!” Llyra smiles and leads Pokke closer to where the bard was playing, the soft music lilting through the garden.

Llyra takes the lead in the impromptu waltz, placing a hand on Pokke's shoulder and taking her hand with the other. She smiles and laughs as they make their way around the space, gently swaying and turning to the beat of the music.

"If I could spend the rest of my days in this easy bliss, I would be happy…" she thinks to herself as she loses herself in the music and the moment.

Day 3 - Feast

"Woah!" Llyra marvelled at the spread being set down in front of her on the table. From rare meats to juicy fresh vegetables and everything in-between, Varis brought tray after tray of food for the party that evening.

He smirks as he sets down another plate worthy of a king and finally takes his seat at the table. "It's not much but I thought I would show my gratitude for lettin' me travel with y'all."

"Not much?" Anya says from her seat beside him, "This is enough food to feed a whole village! No, two villages!"

"I think that's a bit of an exaggeration…" Llyra pours a glass of wine for herself, "But this really is a lot of food Varis."

"Perhaps, but at least we won't go hungry for a while, eh? Eat up!"

Llyra smiles and lifts her glass, "To Varis! And his great cooking skills!"

"To Varis!" The party chimes in after her, the sounds of glasses and cups clinking filling the small tavern.

------

Llyra pulls her knees closer to her chest as she sits by the campfire that night, the small hut they took shelter in barely shielding the party from the wind.

The lackluster dish of food lies untouched at her feet, only serving as a reminder of what they lost that day.

The mound of earth that serves as Varis' grave is barely visible out of the shack's door, Pokke and Shanan were finishing filling it in before returning to the camp.

A silence falls over the party as they mull over the events of the day, Llyra's attention squarely on the fire and the distorted lump of earth she could see through the heat. Leaving her wondering what could've been if she'd just been faster, smarter, able to think clearly at all. Instead she walks away unscathed while another companion joins the sea of souls that haunt her dreams.

Day 4 - Nature

“Another one?” Llyra watched while Anya placed a potted plant on the shelf above her desk.

“It brightens up the room, no?” Anya smiled, arranging the leaves to be more aesthetically pleasing.

“Perhaps… But you know how bad I am at taking care of these things Anya.” Llyra gestures to the other plants on the shelf which were in various different states of dying.

Anya sighs and reaches up for the dying plants, easily bringing life back to the flowers and leaves with her druid magic. “Maybe I should bring you a cactus or something, they’re easy to take care of.”

Llyra rolls her eyes, “I think they’d be better off in your house than mine, I’m too busy to take care of myself most of the time, never mind taking care of this many plants as well.”

The tiefling lays a hand on her friend’s shoulder, “That, I am also working on. So come on we’re going out to dinner.”

“Eh? W-Wait!” Llyra says with a laugh as she’s dragged towards the entrance of the house, “I didn’t agree to this!”

“Too bad!” Anya turns to face Llyra with a grin, “My treat, you have no say!”

Llyra sighs and shrugs, there was no point fighting with Anya, it would lead nowhere. Especially when it came to making sure she actually ate food.

“Alright, alright, just give me some time to get ready and I’ll meet you there” A soft smile on her lips as she retreated back into the house to prepare.

Day 5 - Lost

As night fell over Barovia, Llyra found herself on the wall of the balcony attached to her inn room.

Her spellbook long since discarded on the table, pages fluttering in the gentle wind, her real purpose for coming out here all but abandoned as she stared down at the street below. A few people on nightly business guided by soft lamp light and the dull glow of the eternal full moon above.

It never changed.

Every night spent in Barovia was the same as every night to come. It was boring and tiring. Her grip tightened on the sleeve of her shirt as she thought about how little had changed since the party arrived in the small town.

It just made her feel worse about their situation, trapped in this never changing land, running for their lives every single day. She knew what she had signed up for when they all decided to put a stop to this, but she didn’t know it would be this hard. Every day left her exhausted, every day made her feel like it would be better to give up, to resign themselves to living in this hellhole for the rest of their lives.

Her hands moved up to her head, clutching fistfuls of hair as she tried to rid herself of her dark thoughts.

“Ugh.”

She turned around where she sat and hopped down from the wall back to the balcony.

“That’s enough for one night.”

Day 6 - Bitter

Primrose always did better than her.

In every class, in every field of study, her half-elf friend excelled in every area that Llyra tried to master. She wasn’t a jealous person, she didn’t let those feelings control her, but with every day that passed the thoughts would creep back at every new achievement.

Llyra knew that Primrose was better than her, thankful that her friend would help her through her struggles. But she hoped one day to return the favour, to help in return with something Prim didn’t understand.

But there was nothing.

She tried so hard, spent countless nights studying while Prim slept just for a chance, a single hope that one day, one day, she would be good enough to teach her something new instead of how it always was.

But for now she would admit she was jealous. The bitter taste of the emotion crept into her mouth as she explained that she needed help with another spell. Prim agreed to help with a smile, as always.

So happy. So eager to help. She held her wand tightly as she pointed it towards Prim.

I wish she would stop.

Day 7 - Tender

The smoke subsided as the sounds of battle died down around her. Llyra collapsed in place, coughing at the remnants of her fireball that had decisively finished the fight off.

“W-We did it!” She managed to sputter out, “Can we please take a rest now…?”

The sounds of armour clanging on the floor alerted her to her friend’s approach. “Of course.”

Llyra smiled as she felt the familiar soothing of Pokke’s healing magic seep into her wounds. She let out a sigh of relief as most of the pain subsided, leaving her with minor scratches and bruises.

“Thanks Dara.” She looked up at the dragonborn, who was kneeling down in front of her.

Pokke smiles and takes Llyra’s face gently in her armoured hands, wiping away a stray tear she didn’t even know was there. “As long as you are alright.”

Llyra nodded, a warm flush spreading across her face as she gently removed Pokke’s hands and instead holding them in her own. “Thanks to you, if you hadn’t have taken that axe for me I’d have been a goner…”

Pokke shakes her head, “I was only doing what I had to. Besides, I think you’re a little tougher than you give yourself credit for.”

She laughs, “Not strong enough for that surely! But regardless of if it’s your job or not, thank you… Even if you did leave me with these nasty scratches.”

That earns her a playful shove, “It may be my job but you’re making me regret it.”

They both laugh, revelling in their victory and the little moments they get to share because of it.

#inktober #OC tober #d&d #llyra #noble draws crap #oh boy I have bitten off more than I can chew but I will fuckin finish this even if it kills me

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batgirl-87 · 6 years

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Not Today

Summary: After angrily storming out of Defense Against the Dark Arts class and the library during a study session, experiencing an outburst of rage during Quidditch practice, snapping coldly at Madam Rakepick, and then being found having a breakdown, the gang is very concerned about their normally strong, composed friend and her hostile, emotional change in demeanor.

Word Count: ~20k

Genre/Warnings: Angst, a little Fluff at the end, Swearing?

Note: I’m not actually sure what genre this is but I guess angst works? A little fluff moment with Charlie at the end, lots of caring and concerned friends, some protective Rowan, and an anxious, stressed out Bill. This ended up being much, much, MUCH longer than originally planned (honestly, the ending became a lot longer than originally planned). I had a lot of feelings! (*insert ‘I just have a lot of feelings* gif from Mean Girls*) So this is more like an emotional venting story, not my best work, but it needed to be done. I also got weirdly into untranslatable words so… enjoy those =p Again, still in Fourth Year in the game even though this story is based on Fifth Year so I apologize for any inconsistencies or errors. – I started writing this before the Halloween event in the game and was already working on the ending when the event started; did add a couple references.

Soundtrack Suggestions: Honestly, I can’t think of any particular songs, I wrote this in a sort of emotional fit of rage, music not necessary, so listen to anything that makes you feel like screaming out in anger and breaking things and then crumble to the ground as a sobbing mess.

Preview: “There are much more difficult things to face and overcome than some cursed artifact or dark wizard. Some things you can never overcome and have to figure out how to cope with every day for the rest of your life. So you can’t stand up there and preach to all of us like you’ve seen it all and overcame it all, like it’s so easy to do, and you just know it all because you don’t! You have no idea how hard it is! And for you to make others who have to endure their challenge every day, who can’t just cast a spell and be rid of it, whose challenge is more about how horribly others treat them because of who they are instead of their actual struggle, feel worse about themselves is wrong. It’s harmful towards individuals and society. You are adding to the narrative and stereotypes, enabling the ignorant hatred and violence, permitting others to turn against people, some good people, who need understanding, compassion, and help. So you and everyone else can shut the fuck up about things you don’t understand because you have no idea, no idea, what real struggle and bravery and strength is.”

The students filed into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom looking somewhat sluggish and tired, probably because it was a Monday. They slumped into their desks and took out their required textbook and parchment filled notebooks to take notes on. Keira appeared to be in a particularly down mood today, not that it wasn’t uncommon for her to suddenly fall into a depressing mood when the gravity of her overwhelming situation would abruptly hit her, but this was different. And if anyone had been keeping track of this occurrence they might have discovered a pattern.

“Good afternoon class.” At Madam – er – Professor Rakepick’s voice signaling the start of class, any chatting between the students came to a sudden halt and everyone seemed to sit up straighter at their desks.

“Today I thought it fitting for us to cover one of the most dangerous beasts in the Wizarding world – Werewolves.” Professor Rakepick’s announcement of today’s lesson intrigued a majority of the class, including one Miss Penny Haywood. The popular Hufflepuff’s attention was instantly hooked and, while at first she seemed to pale and appear anxious, she quickly flipped open her book, eager to begin the lesson viewing this as an important learning opportunity. As long as there would be no actual werewolves. Keira, on the other hand, instantly tensed up at the mention of today’s lesson and apprehensively opened up her textbook.

The lesson began generally enough, Professor Rakepick going over common knowledge just in case anyone, probably assuming those muggle born, was unaware of basic facts on werewolves such as the distinctions between a werewolf and regular wolf, a werewolf’s inability to choose whether or not to transform, their inability to remember anything of their former human self when transformed, the falsehood in the muggle world of werewolves being negatively affected by silver, and on the lycanthropy infection that causes it.

Penny diligently took notes on everything Professor Rakepick said even if she was already well aware of the information. Keira couldn’t blame her. She understood Penny endured a traumatic experience with a werewolf and was determined to not allow herself or anyone else she cared about to fall victim to another one. The Slytherin, on the other hand, had yet to take a single mark on her parchment, not even a doodle.

“No, werewolves cannot pass on their lycanthropy to their children,” Professor Rakepick answered a student’s question, appearing a bit annoyed that her lecture was being interrupted, before motioning, albeit rather exasperatedly, to another student whose hand was raised.

“Is there no cure for it?” Professor Rakepick gave a condescending smirk before answering their question.

“No, there is no cure for lycanthropy. However, there is a potion, Wolfsbane Potion, which has proven to allow a werewolf to retain their human mind while transformed which has helped reduce werewolf attacks. It is a very difficult, complicated, and quite expensive to make and very dangerous, even deadly, if made incorrectly,” she added before continuing on with her lecture assuming there would be no more questions interrupting her.

Oh yes, Wolfsbane Potion. Keira remembered asking Professor Snape about it one time in Potions class which of course earned her a glaring look from her Head of House and a comment dripping in disdain. No, they would not be learning that lesson in that class or any other class of his. And she would be a fool to try and attempt it on her own because she would fail miserably and concoct a dangerous poison instead. Why was she interested in that particular potion anyway?

Keira couldn’t remember exactly what excuse she gave him, possibly relating to Penny since Penny was a potion master and always working to advance her technique or create her own potions, and Snape had a soft spot for her so Keira figured dropping Penny’s name couldn’t hurt. Regardless, he dropped it and moved on to the lesson for the day and Keira was incredibly disappointed to discover they would not be learning Wolfsbane Potion then or ever.

She had thought about trying to make it herself but Snape didn’t lie about it being an advanced potion. The ingredients were expensive, sure, but that didn’t faze her at all. And yes, there was a risk buying those particular ingredients since it could alert others to a werewolf’s identity but being a Slytherin and member of the infamous House of Black had its advantages including connections to shady wizards who sold a variety of items secretly including rare potion ingredients. Plus she could always “borrow” some ingredients from Snape – it wouldn’t be the first time nor the last for that. But even if she got the ingredients the risk of messing it up was high.

She had considered asking Penny for her help, who better to help make a potion than her best friend the potions master? But Penny wasn’t stupid, and Keira did not, could not, answer her questions about why she needed this potion. And Penny clearly had her own, personal feelings towards werewolves which could easily cause her to refuse her help. Plus she already asked so much of her friends with finding the Cursed Vaults and this was another personal thing she didn’t want to get them involved in. She had even considered finding someone to pay to make the potion for her, most likely the same type of shady character who would sell the ingredients covertly, but she couldn’t trust someone else to make this type of potion.

No, she would figure this out on her own.

“Werewolves are often shunned and discriminated against in Wizarding society and most believe they are evil creatures who deserve nothing short of death. I’ll let you form your own opinions on them. But I can tell you first hand, facing off against these beasts is a true test of one’s abilities. They are dangerous, murderous, and have killed many wizards, witches, and even muggles,” Professor Rakepick warned causing some student’s to look up fearfully at her.

Keira, on the other hand, simply narrowed her eyes at the Professor. She was quickly growing over this lesson and hoped class was almost over.

Unfortunately, class was nowhere near being over and once Professor Rakepick finished her lesson and warning on how dangerous werewolves were she brought out a practice dummy to demonstrate some defensive and attack spells they could use on a werewolf if they were ever ill-fated to encounter one. Alright, Keira could admit there were absolutely dangerous werewolves out there – she could think of one in particular – and true, they should learn how to defend themselves against one if necessary. However, some of these violent attacks and the overall aggressive attitude of this lesson was starting to wear on her. And honestly, today of all days, she had little patience and tolerance and understanding.

Once she finished her demonstration, Professor Rakepick called the students to come up and form a line to practice the spells she just showed them on the practice dummy. Penny put on a determined face and practically raced up to the front of the classroom. Fortunately it was a basic practice dummy and not one that appeared like an actual werewolf or maybe her attitude would have been different.

And on any other day Keira would admire Penny’s eagerness and bravery to face what happened to her head on and with full dedication, no fear or hesitancy. Keira normally was so proud of Penny’s remarkable ability at coping with her trauma.

But not today.

Today she did not find Penny’s eagerness to learn all she could about werewolves and how to defeat them admirable. She found nothing amusing about the jokes other students made on the topic of today’s lesson. She did not find any of Rakepick’s self-proclaimed daring adventures fighting off werewolves brave or remarkable. And she had nothing but contempt and revulsion at any comments about killing werewolves even if they were directed at a practice dummy.

Yes, there were evil werewolves out there who caused a great deal of harm to others and she planned on ridding the world of a particular one herself one day.

But today…

Today’s lesson and her fellow student’s reaction to it filled her with anger, made her want to cry, and caused her to feel sick to her stomach.

Maybe if this lesson fell on another day, any other day, she wouldn’t feel so strongly. But the lesson had to fall on today and she was not prepared to handle it.

So while the rest of the students made their way up to the front of the class to attack the practice dummy they were supposed to imagine was a werewolf, Keira slammed her textbook shut, shoved her school supplies in her bag, and stood up quickly bumping into her desk and causing it to jolt forward a few inches and slam back down onto the floor. This sudden noise caused the other students and her Professor to look in her direction but Keira showed no signs of acknowledging their attention nor caring about it as she slung her bag over her shoulder and stormed out of the classroom.

She was done.

If she had bothered to look at the front of the classroom she would have noticed the concerned and quizzical looks on her friends’ faces, particularly the dragon obsessed Gryffindor who watched her closely with furrowed brows and searching eyes full of worry.

Keira marched down the labyrinth of hallways and staircases that made up Hogwarts, muttering to herself under her breath at the complete and utter connerie of that lesson, the audacity of Professor Rakepick and those students making their ignorant comments and vicious attacks on the attack dummy. Who did they think they were? They didn’t know anything!

“Miss Black.” Keira stopped dead in her tracks and whirled around when she heard her name called by stern yet gentle voice – she knew really of only one person who could master that type of tone.

“Y-yes, Professor McGonagall,” Keira stammered nervously as it just dawned on her that she was technically skipping class and now had been caught doing so. She was thankful, however, that it was by Professor McGonagall and not Professor Snape.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in class? Defense Against the Dark Arts I believe,” Professor McGonagall questioned the young girl who resisted squirming under the powerful witch’s intense gaze.

“W-well, yes, technically I am –“ Keira started, averting her eyes and focusing them on the floor beneath them.

“So then why are you wandering the hallways instead of attending your class,” Professor McGonagall continued her questioning, clasping her hands in front of her.

Keira shifted uncomfortably as she felt the Transfiguration Professor maintain her intense gaze on her, trying to think of how to answer her. “I just… I didn’t exactly agree with today’s lesson,” she eventually replied after what felt like an eternity to her under the close watch of the Gryffindor Head of House. It wasn’t a lie! She couldn’t lie to Professor McGonagall!

“You didn’t agree with the lesson,” Professor McGonagall repeated, astonished by the Slytherin’s reply. She had to admit she was not expecting that answer.

“No, I did not agree with it,” Keira declared adamantly, looking up at the Transfiguration Professor with a sudden conviction and a fiery look in her eyes.

Professor McGonagall studied the tenacious Slytherin. No other students had appeared to have stormed out of the classroom so it could not have been that controversial of a lesson. And she was well aware some lessons, particularly those in regards to the Dark Arts could upset some of their more sensitive students but Keira wasn’t normally one to allow her emotions to get the better of her like this.

“May I ask what this unbearable lesson was, exactly,” Professor McGonagall finally asked, partially she admitted out of her own curiosity. What lesson could have sent this student in particular who dealt with so much, carried so much with them, on a daily basis to finally reach her breaking point? And what if this was a lesson that needed to be examined upon closer inspection and have necessary changes made to it?

Keira’s sudden relentless and bold attitude wavered at the Professor’s next question. “… It was on werewolves, ma’am,” she answered quietly, her gaze once against shifting down to the floor.

Oh here it came. All the questions about why this lesson of all the lessons upset her? Upset her so much it caused her to walk out of class. And then a lecture on the importance of the lessons they learned there at Hogwarts and while some may be difficult or even scary to some they had to learn them. And then she would be forced back into that class. The embarrassment of being ushered back in after her somewhat dramatic exit would just be the icing on the cake to this horrible day today was turning out to be.

But the series of questioning and matter-of-fact lecture that disregarded one’s feelings never came.

Instead Professor McGonagall’s eyes softened for a moment, full of understanding and perhaps even some nostalgia, at Keira’s honest reply. “Well, we can’t have you aimlessly wandering the hallways during class time. Come along,” she said as she glided past the Slytherin to continue down the hall towards her classroom. “It’s been awhile since we’ve had one of your private Transfiguration lessons.”

Keira watched the poised Professor curiously. “What?”

“You should be learning something,” Professor McGonagall stated before motioning towards the open door to her classroom. Once the shock wore off over McGonagall’s kind and generous reaction to her confession of ditching class, Keira grinned and hurried into the Transfiguration classroom. Maybe this day wasn’t so bad after all.

“Very good, Miss Black,” Professor McGonagall praised as the young Slytherin bonded a couple books together.

“Thank you, Professor,” Keira replied before undoing her transfiguration spell. “I appreciate you taking the time to teach me like this.”

“I am a Professor, Miss Black. It is my job to teach. And when I see promising young students like yourself, providing individual private lessons is a pleasure,” Professor McGonagall replied with a kind smile. Keira smiled back at her before attempting to cast Epoximise again. Her attitude had drastically changed from earlier. She had forgotten about being angry and resentful and was enjoying learning a new lesson with a Professor who understood how she felt better than most, if anyone else, at Hogwarts.

“You know, Sirius and his friends were quite skilled at Transfigurations as well,” Professor McGonagall casually mentioned, although there really was nothing casual about it.

Keira paused in her practicing and looked up at her Professor curiously. “Yeah?”

At her gentle prodding Professor McGonagall continued, explaining what she meant further. Alright, sure, she admitted Sirius and his friends tended to get into some trouble but their skills in Transfigurations and other areas of magic were noteworthy. “The only thing more remarkable than their ability to use their impressive magical talents to consistently get into trouble was their unwavering loyal friendship. Which was especially beneficial for Mr. Lupin who always appeared to be a bit of a loner until them. He really seemed to open up, come into his own with them – happier.” A sad smile formed on the distinguished Professor’s face which Keira mirrored.

“You know, it’s good to hear someone speak about them in a positive way,” Keira said after a moment before letting out a hollow chuckle. “Professor Snape only condemns me for my relationship to them.”

“Yes, well Sev- Professor Snape never got along well with them,” Professor McGonagall recalled with a nod of her head.

“Yeah, that’s been made pretty clear,” Keira muttered.

While she thought this topic may prove to be somewhat therapeutic for the Slytherin, Professor McGonagall had to admit she enjoyed reminiscing for a bit with Keira despite the bittersweet subject. And Keira greatly appreciated Professor McGonagall talking to her about it.

“Here’s a list of some books I recommend you read to advance your talents in Transfigurations, if you’re interested. I may even be willing to provide some extra credit if you write a particularly compelling essay on what you learn from them. And if you promise to go straight to the library, no detours, and get straight to work I will let you go,” Professor McGonagall negotiated as she handed her student a piece of parchment with her book suggestions.

“I promise. Straight to the library to quietly read these,” Keira assured her, holding up the list. “I won’t cause anyone any trouble,” she added.

Professor McGonagall smiled warmly down at the Slytherin and nodded her head to silently permit her to leave despite it still being class time for her. Keira thanked her again, and again and again – for everything. For giving her a private lesson and recommending books for her to advance her skills, investing in her and encouraging her, and most importantly talking to her about Sirius and Remus and their time as students which helped her feel closer to her family, one she barely knew. She appreciated McGonagall being there for her.

Keira hurried to the library without any detours, as promised, in a much better mood form earlier. She honestly had forgotten about that class and how it made her feel. Forgot that she was even ditching it!

She wandered up and down the many aisles of books, locating the ones Professor McGonagall suggested for her. She balanced the list on top of the small stack of books she carried in her arms as she now hunted for a spot to sit. The library had been filled recently by Seventh Years preparing for their N.E.W.T.s. Funny, she couldn’t remember other Seventh Year students taking up most of the library any other year.

And speaking of Seventh Years…

Keira’s grey eyes landed on a familiar redhead sitting at the end of one of the tables who looked uncharacteristically anxious with his head in his hands as his eyes frantically scanned one of the many open books laid out in front of him. Oh the poor boy… Keira laughed slightly to herself and shook her head before making her way over to the stressed out eldest Weasley.

“Mind if I join you,” Keira asked quietly as she pulled out a chair for herself. Bill’s head whipped up from his intensive studying to look up at her.

“What? Yeah, sure,” Bill replied frenetically, motioning to the chair she had already pulled out for herself.

Keira frowned slightly as she set her armful of books down on the table and slid her bag off her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“What,” Bill asked again, whipping his head back up once again from the books that continually absorbed all his attention. “Y-yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just studying for my N.E.W.T.s you know, and it’s exhausting! I mean, if it’s this exhausting just studying for them imagine how exhausting it will be taking them!” Bill laughed a bit hysterically as he leaned back in his chair, running his fingers through his hair look positively mad.

Keira stared at him as she set her bag on the ground next to her and took a seat next to the exhausted and somewhat crazed Gryffindor. “…When’s the last time you got some sleep?”

“Sleep? Sleep,” he repeated, growing louder and earning a harsh SHUSH from Madam Pince and some other students in the library studying for their own N.E.W.T.s. “I can’t afford sleep right now,” Bill informed her matter-of-factly in a stern whisper.

“Okay…” Keira replied, grabbing one of the books Professor McGonagall suggested for her. ”Someone needs to drink some Draught of Peace,” she muttered under her breath.

“What,” Bill demanded, giving her a harsh look. What did she just say?!

Uh oh… Quickly, think of a way out of this! “…You can borrow some of my books on Transfigurations if you want. Professor McGonagall recommended them personally,” she offered gently. Crazed, sleep-deprived, anxious Bill scared her.

“Yeah,” Bill asked, eyeing the small stack of books on the table seeming to calm down for the moment. “Thanks.” Keira nodded her head as she watched him closely.

“Will, I’m worried about you,” she confessed.

Bill took a deep breath before replying. “I’m fine, really. I just… I need to do well on these exams so I can become a Curse-Breaker,” he explained, sounding more like his composed self.

“Yeah, not everyone can be skilled enough to break their first curse at age eleven and secure themselves a job before taking their exams. I probably don’t even need to take the N.E.W.T.s. Could just leave school, walk right into Gringotts and inform them that I’m their new Curse-Breaker and they’d be like ‘alright’.” Keira’s teasing reply earned a small smirk from the eldest Weasley.

“No, unfortunately we cannot all be blessed like you,” Bill replied sarcastically, Keira smirking at him now. There was the William she knew and loved.

“Wait, aren’t you supposed to be in class right now,” Bill suddenly asked causing Keira to tense up slightly. Oh crap, busted again!

“Oh well I… I wasn’t feeling well so I left. Then I ran into Professor McGonagall and she helped me feel better. And then she gave me this list of books she thought I should read to help me advance my Transfigurations skills. And now I share them with you,” Keira replied, passing him one of her books.

“Thanks,” Bill said as he watched her closely. He suspected something more was up but these N.E.W.T.s were constantly stealing his focus. He figured if she or Charlie or anyone else really needed him they would be more direct about it.

The two fell silent as Bill resumed his exhaustive studying and Keira flipped open one of the books suggested to her and began reading. During their quiet studying session Bill let out a frustrated groan and slumped in his seat. Upon further investigation by Keira it was determined the source of Bill’s frustration was Ancient Runes. She slid the book that had currently captured Bill’s attention over so she could take a better look at it before offering her help.

“What about your own stuff,” Bill asked in a defeated tone, motioning to her books on Transfigurations.

“I can read those whenever,” Keira assured, waving off at her books on the table. “Besides, you always help me with Arithmancy,” she pointed out. Oh no, what would she do when he graduated and was no longer there to help her with her Arithmancy?! Her eyes widened as that realization dawned on her.

“Don’t worry, you can always owl me when you need help with your Arithmancy,” Bill assured her, understanding exactly what that look on her face meant.

“I can owl you my homework and you’ll do it for me,” Keira asked with an impish grin.

“That’s not what I sai-“

“Thank you, Will,” Keira cried out joyously as she leaned over to wrap her arms around the Gryffindor prefect and hug him tightly, earning a couple shushes from other students around them but she paid them no mind.

“Okay, alright. Let’s just focus on Ancient Runes for right now,” Bill suggested, patting one of her arms that was snuggly around him a couple times. Keira slowly released the eldest Weasley and began to help him with his studies on Ancient Runes.

So maybe the day had a rough start but it was a thousand times better now. Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad after all…

Soon enough some familiar faces joined them for their study session in the library once their class let out. Penny plopped down in the chair next to Keira, Rowan begrudgingly taking the next seat over while Charlie and Barnaby made themselves comfortable on the other side of the table, the second eldest Weasley sitting next to his brother and across from formerly fuming Slytherin.

“There you are Keira. Is everything okay,” Penny asked, her voice full of concern, just like Charlie’s eyes watching her closely from across the table.

“Yeah, why,” Keira asked as she kept her eyes locked on the book in front of her, suddenly feeling more tense at their arrival. Their presence just reminded her of what she was trying to get away from.

“Because you stormed out of class in a fiery rage,” Barnaby exaggerated causing Rowan to shake her head.

“No, that wasn’t a fiery rage for her,” Rowan informed them. She had seen Keira in a rage and that was not it but she was definitely upset.

“You stormed out of class in a fit of rage,” Bill questioned, his attention suddenly grabbed from his studies. Keira could feel the lecture looming.

“N.E.W.T.s.” That was all Keira had to say for Bill’s focus to instantly go back to his studies.

“It may not have been a fit of rage but you were clearly upset.” Penny steered the conversation back to the topic they came there to discuss and Keira had to resist rolling her eyes. She could feel all of their eyes locked on her and it was close to driving her mad.

“So, why did you leave in the middle of class,” Barnaby asked gently, his voice full of concern. Keira couldn’t give a snide remark when his was genuinely worried.

“I just…wasn’t feeling well,” Keira finally answered with a shrug.

“Did you go see Madam Pomfrey,” Rowan asked. “Because if you haven’t maybe we should go to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, Rowan, really,” Keira assured, raising up a hand to signal to her roommate to calm down and stop grabbing her things in preparation to leave. “I’m feeling a lot better,” she added, throwing a reassuring look to her friends, particularly Barnaby who she felt was mere moments away from either hugging her and never letting her go or knocking out anyone that came near her. Or both.

“Okay,” Penny replied after studying her a moment, although she didn’t sound entirely convinced, if Keira didn’t want to talk about it she wasn’t going to force her. “Well you missed quite the exciting class.”

Keira clenched her jaw at Penny’s mention of the day’s Defense Against the Dark Arts class. She couldn’t help but find it a little flippant that they were so concerned about why she left the class so upset and then went right into talking about it and all that she missed.

Her whole body grew tenser as Penny, Rowan, and Barnaby continued to discuss what she missed in class amongst themselves, excited over the new spells they learned. Penny in particular was eager to talk about today’s lesson. It was taking all of Keira’s willpower to keep from exploding at the keen Hufflepuff, from shouting at her to shut up. And to keep from snapping at Charlie to stop staring at her! She knew he was worried about her, and she appreciated it, but he had to stop just staring at her like he was waiting for her to have a breakdown or else she would have one! At least he wasn’t participating in this discussion over their Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson for the day. He even tried to steer the conversation to dragons, which was a normal occurrence, and maybe it was a bit narcissistic to think he was doing it for her, but Keira appreciated his efforts to change the topic of discussion since this one clearly upset her. And if anyone recognized what was going on with her, it would be the observant Seeker who always seemed to notice things about her and discern how she was feeling – which honestly sort of weirded her out. She wasn’t use to someone paying so much attention to her like that… Well, besides Rowan.

Alright, maybe it was not so obvious since she hadn’t said anything explicitly but she did leave class upset, which they were just concerned about a few moments ago, and her knuckles were white from gripping her book so tightly, her jaw clenched so tight she worried her teeth may shatter. Not to mention the anger and irritation wafting off of her and making their atmosphere heavy and tense.

“Would be cool to see a werewolf,” Barnaby considered, earning a slight glare from Penny that went unnoticed, fortunately, by the magical creature lover as he continued to think about what seeing a werewolf first hand would be like.

“You sound like Tonks,” Rowan laughed. Her joke seemed to only irritate Penny further and she suddenly turned her attention to the other magical creature obsessed person at the table.

“I assume you would love to run into one in the Forbidden Forest sometime too, huh?” Charlie blinked and looked over at Penny with wide, somewhat fearful eyes, finally breaking his focus from Keira at least. The normally happy and supportive Hufflepuff had such a pointed and accusatory tone it threw him, and everyone else at the table, off. Her piercing glare was also uncharacteristic for her and Charlie wasn’t really sure how to handle this new side of Penny.

Charlie quickly glanced around at the others at the table, Barnaby and Rowan looking just as shocked and thrown off as him, before looking back at the popular Hufflepuff. “I just want to find a dragon,” he awkwardly replied. Everyone knew he was obsessed with dragons. He had never mentioned werewolves once! Why was he suddenly under interrogation?

“A dragon is probably less dangerous than a werewolf,” Penny muttered. Charlie was admittedly too afraid of her at the moment to debate that.

“Werewolves are evil, despicable, abhorrent, murderous creatures. I’m glad we’re learning how to fight against them and stop them from hurting anyone else. They’re like some sort of sinister, destructive, killing epidemic that needs to be extinguished.” Penny’s passionate speech left everyone at the table in silence.

It was unknown how many knew of Penny’s traumatizing experience with a werewolf. Keira suspected she was the only one which made her powerful declaration more shocking to the rest of those at the table; well, except for maybe Bill who was still absorbed into his studies. Barnaby and Rowan stared at the fired-up Hufflepuff with wide eyes while Charlie shifted uncomfortably in his seat and averted his gaze from the intense one of the blonde across the table.

On any other day, Keira would have been more understanding and compassionate towards Penny and her circumstances. She knew what Penny had gone through, what she had lost because of a vicious werewolf attack. As far as she knew she was the only one who knew what Penny went through. Which required her to more supportive for her Hufflepuff friend. And on any other day she would have let Penny’s impassioned speech roll off her back, understanding it was specifically about the situation Penny unfortunately experienced and all the emotions she constantly kept bottled up inside over losing someone close to her – and Keira knew a thing or two about keeping emotions bottled up – and not take it personally.

But not today.

Today Penny’s emotional opinions on werewolves that led her to speak out against them made Keira’s blood boil. It took every ounce of self-control Keira had to keep from flipping the table over, smacking Penny in the face with her book, and blowing up with her own passionate speech about how wrong Penny was and despite her own personal experience it wasn’t universal and her views were ignorant and harmful.

No, she couldn’t trust herself to stay there. The longer she sat there the angrier she got. And the angrier she got the less she was able to control her wrath.

Keira slammed her book shut and stood up abruptly, her chair scooting back, scrapping loudly against the hardwood floors. Her actions earned her a harsh glare from Madam Pince but no loud shushing, possibly from the intense rage and fury rolling off of her in waves tarnishing the entire atmosphere in the library. Her abrupt actions also caused all her friends to stare up at her with wide, somewhat frightened eyes.

“…Keira,” Penny started carefully, the concern from earlier back in her voice. The concern for her back in all her friends’ eyes. She could feel it. And she appreciated it, she did. But right now she could not handle it, handle everything she was feeling right now, and had to get away.

“I have Quidditch practice,” Keira curtly replied as she swung her bag over her shoulder and piled her books in her arms before storming now out of the library. Was this her new thing? Storming out of every room in Hogwarts?

She could feel her friends’ eyes on her as she quickly made her leave. She knew they were worried about her, and again she appreciated it, but for now she prayed they did not follow her and hoped they would eventually forget about all of this so she wouldn’t have to talk about it.

Her friends shared a look between them once Keira left the library, full of questions and worry although no one dared to speak yet while the tense, hostile atmosphere lingered.

That is, until Barnaby gasped suddenly. “Oh! That means I have Quidditch practice too!” In classic Barnaby style, his comment eased the tension and instantly lightened the mood. He grabbed his bag as he stood up to head off to practice as well before Charlie’s voice caused him to pause.

“Hey, uh… make sure she’s okay… Okay?” Barnaby studied the troubled Gryffindor a moment before smiling at his fellow magical creature enthusiast.

“Of course. Once she hits some Bludgers around she’ll feel much better,” Barnaby assured before waving at his friends as he took his leave as well. That normally proved to be therapeutic for her in the past anyways.

Keira walked out of the Quidditch Changing Room and out onto the Pitch after changing into her gear. She preferred using the actual Quidditch Pitch for practices rather than the Training Pitch since the Quidditch Pitch is where matches were actually held and she felt practicing there better prepared her team for a game. She understood the Training Pitch opted for better privacy from any spies since the Quidditch Pitch was surrounded by spectator stands but it also lacked goal hoops which Keira, and most Quidditch captains, found useless. And this being her first year as Quidditch Captain for the Slytherin team, she wanted to give them every advantage.

Fortunately she was on good terms with Charlie and Andre so she wasn’t too concerned about anyone from Gryffindor or Ravenclaw spying on their practices and Hufflepuffs were too honest to do so, right? Although, sometimes she did suspect Andre might take an interest in watching her team’s practice since they tended to get quite competitive with each other over Quidditch.

Most of her team were already gathered around on the field chatting away. They had been going over some new strategies lately that were still written on the board in their Changing Rooms so they were able to refresh their memory before heading out for practice without having a team meeting beforehand to go over it all again. Keira swapped hands holding her broom to adjust one of her arm guards.

Her Quidditch broom was the first big purchase Keira bought on her own that wasn’t necessary school supplies. She knew her adopted parents were not very keen on her getting a broom but she bought it on her own! However, she understood their concern since what happened with Jacob so she agreed to compromise and promised to only use her broom for Quidditch related things like practices and games and the rest of the time Madam Hooch would keep her broom locked up safely. Sometimes it really irked Keira she couldn’t have her broom that she paid for herself, such as last year when she needed to get into the Forbidden Forest, but she did her best to see things from their perspective and be understanding towards their feelings on the matter.

Barnaby soon came trotting out of the Changing Rooms, hopping awkwardly as he held his Beater bat under one arm while he tried to secure one of his shin guards. “I’m here! I’m here,” he called since it appeared like the entire team was out there ready to go and waiting on him.

“Barnabas,” Keira called out to him with a slight sigh. “Your broom.”

Barnaby paused, balancing on one leg as he looked up at his Captain when she called out to him, taking a moment to process what she meant. “Oh yeah!” He turned to quickly head back into the Changing Rooms, muttering some curses as the shin guard he had been working on fell half off, the top not being securely fastened. It made for quite the sight of him awkwardly running with it hanging off his leg that even Keira in her foul mood couldn’t fight off a smile. Soon he returned from the Changing Rooms, broom and bat in hand and shin guard securely on.

Now that everyone was ready with their brooms and equipment securely fastened, the Slytherin team got on their brooms and took to the skies for practice. While normally hitting Bludgers proved to be very therapeutic for her and allowed her to get out her frustrations and stress in a healthy manner, and also kept her from fighting or threatening to fight her peers – her and Barnaby were quite the pair – this time Keira could not shake off this bad mood she was in. But it kept her from flipping table in the library and smacking Penny in the face with a book which she would have definitely regretted so guess it was helping in its own way. She still was incredibly upset though.

“Okay, let’s take a break!” After calling out to her team, Keira landed on the ground with the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team for a brief break to rehydrate.

“Listen, these are some great new formations and all but I think we should be working on making our plays more aggressive,” one of the Chasers suggested.

“Aggressive but nothing illegal, right,” Keira asked, eyeing their teammate who gave her a wicked smirk and shrugged.

“It’s not illegal if you don’t get caught.” Keira sighed and shook her head. Stereotypical Slytherin.

“I’m all for being aggressive but I will not condone reckless and dangerous tactics that are focused on injuring others on purpose,” Keira declared sternly.

“I never said the intent was injuring them. But if they get hurt, well, Quidditch is a tough sport. Got to plan for getting hurt.” Keira sighed again while a couple of her teammates chuckled. What was with people today? Or maybe it was just her and her disgruntled mood.

“Hey, heard you stormed out of Defense Against the Dark Arts today,” their Seeker mentioned casually.

“So,” Keira asked, instantly defensive.

“So… why did you do that,” their Seeker asked before their Keeper chimed in.

“Yeah, I mean if you’re going to ditch class you don’t go and then walk out, you just don’t go.” Keira sighed heavily. Word travelled so fast at this school.

“I heard you also stormed out of the library before practice,” another one of her Chasers added before Keira had the chance to answer her Seeker’s question.

“I heard you were mad at Penny Haywood,” their third Chaser chimed in. Well guess Keira should be happy for once the rumors swirling about her weren’t about her being mad like her brother.

“You’re fighting with Penny Haywood,” the second Chaser gasped. “How can you not get along with Penny? She literally gets along with everyone. Everyone. Even Liz who only talks to animals and that weird loner Ravenclaw. What’s his name? Trevor?”

“It’s Talbott,” Keira snapped slightly. “And I’m not fighting with Penny,” she clarified.

“That’s good because the whole school would turn against you. Everyone loves Penny,” her third Chaser informed her, as if she didn’t know. And Keira did love Penny! She considered her one of her best friends!

“Well I don’t know if you had the same lesson we did, but if so, you missed a cool Defense Against the Dark Arts class,” her Keeper informed her while her two Chasers continued to ramble on about Penny and her popularity.

“We learned about werewolves and how to fight them –“

“Who could possibly have a problem with Penny?”

“I don’t know. It wouldn’t be wise to start anything with her though since she has the whole school on her side –“

“I think Blatching could easily be done – Whoops, didn’t mean to collide into them –“

“So then why did you storm out of the library then?”

“And why are people saying it was because of Penny?”

“David blasted the practice dummy so hard it almost slammed against the wall. Feel bad for any werewolf that crosses him.”

“Are we allowed to elbow an opponent in the face? What if we did it “accidentally”?”

“Are you sure you’re not in a fight with Penny?”

Everyone on her team incessantly talking over one another was beginning to be a bit of a sensory overload and definitely overwhelmingly frustrating.

Instead of Quidditch being a healthy way for her to cope with everything going on in her life it was becoming an added stressor to it. She had hoped practice would help take her mind off of everything going on that day and instead she was getting bombarded by everyone about it!

While any other day Quidditch helped her release her pet up aggression clearly it was not working,

Not today.

Keira suddenly let out a loud, frustrated yell before taking her bat and hitting it aggressively, repeatedly against one of the goal hoops poles as hard as she could. This proved to be much more therapeutic than hitting the Bludgers around. Bonus – it caused everyone on her team to shut up and stare at her with wide, terrified eyes.

Barnaby in particular was affected by Keira’s little outburst of rage. He had seen her hit a Bludger with a lot of force and bark orders as Captain, and he had seen her defend her friends against any bullying but this – this was a side of Keria he had never really seen before. She had snapped!

She normally was able to hold everything together despite what she was going through and was always the ones her friends turned to and relied on for support and reassurance. Even when she got angry over someone teasing one of her friends she never reacted so violently and full of fury. Rowan had told the rest of their gang before about her roommate’s breakdowns, either a sobbing mess or a raging fire, but none of them had ever seen it before. Sure, they sometimes caught her getting a little emotional, a little teary-eyed, but Barnaby never expected her to suddenly snap and attack like that. Fortunately it was the goal hoop and not a person.

Regardless, this angry outburst caused her Beater Buddy to be much more concerned over her and her mental health. He had really thought practice and hitting Bludgers around would fix things like it normally did. But clearly something much more was going on and he had no idea what and, therefore, no idea how to make it better!

After beating on the goal hoop post for a couple minutes while her teammates stared in silent shock, Keira gave the post one more solid hit before throwing her Beater bat behind her with such force all her teammates had to duck to avoid getting smacked in the face with it, their Keeper reaching up to make the save – as they should – and caught it before it flew too far.

“Practice is over,” Keira informed them coldly before grabbing her broom and storming off the Quidditch Pitch and back into the Changing Rooms.

So guess this angry, storming out move was becoming her new thing after all.

Her team watched her go before sharing looks between them. Was she serious? No more practice for the day? Barnaby snatched Keira’s bat out of the Keeper’s hand to return to her, although he thought he should wait until she calmed down a bit first.

Keira did her best to avoid people the rest of the day. She thanked Barnaby for returning her bat to her in the Slytherin Common Room after the Quidditch practice incident. She then had to spend the next ten minutes assuring him she was fine and no she did not want to talk about what happened! But she appreciated his concern. She would feel better tomorrow. Probably. Hopefully.

Keira skipped dinner that evening in the Great Hall which left her friends to try and decipher what was going on with her with the added information Barnaby provided them about what happened during Quidditch Practice.

“She attacked the goal post,” Penny repeated in surprise, trying to imagine it.

“Then she almost took us all out when she threw the bat,” Barnaby added, looking down as he recounted their practice’s events. He was clearly struggling with some inner turmoil himself. “I tried asking her what was wrong and how I could help after practice but she just kept saying she was fine.” How was he supposed to help his friend who was obviously going through something when they didn’t tell him what was wrong?!

“I told you guys she has these rage meltdowns!” Rowan sounded as if she was scolding them all which she sort of was, and did on a regular basis. As Keira’s roommate she was the only one who saw how much Keira was suffering. While she was able to put on a brave face in front of everyone else on a day to day basis, Rowan knew how hard this all was on her. And while Rowan did her best to comfort her friend, and she may not freely admit this but she liked comforting her friend during these moments and being needed, she did try and inform the rest of their group of friends when Keira was having a harder time than others so they could aid in making her feel better and not ask so much of her during those times.

And while their friends agreed to do that, they did not truly understand how much Keira was struggling. Not like Rowan who witnessed it firsthand. Hence, when they always turned to Keira for help with… well, basically everything, needing her reassurance to help her find her brother after offering their help, Rowan couldn’t help but get frustrated with them.

Did they forget that Keira’s brother was missing and could be dead? Did they not fully grasp how hard it was to go looking for your brother, while everyone around you talked about how crazy he was, how he might be a Death Eater, or dead, while trying to save the school from curses, and on top of all that having her life being threatened?! Besides the stress of the Cursed-Vaults and her missing brother, Keira was a Prefect and Quidditch Captain which added more responsibilities to her plate, and had to go to class, do homework, and study for exams, just like the rest of them! Dumbledore, Hagrid, Madam Rosmerta, House Ghosts, other students, and some Professors all asked Keira to help them with something like she didn’t already have enough to deal with! Rowan would smack all these people if she could!

Sometimes she wished the rest of their friends would witness Keira having a breakdown so they would better understand what was going on inside their friend all the time. But, and again she would not freely admit this, Rowan kind of liked being the only one who witnessed Keira’s breakdowns and being the only one there for her best friend during those dark times – like they had a special bond the others didn’t.

“That one wasn’t even that bad. She’s had much worse,” Rowan informed them before taking a bite of her sandwich.

“Well, what do you think is wrong then,” Penny asked, a little snippy at Rowan’s know-it-all attitude. When it was about course work she didn’t mind it but when came to their friend she did not appreciate it being hinted that the rest of them didn’t know or care as much about Keira as she did.

“I don’t know but I can talk to her tonight during Astronomy and see if I can find anything out,” Rowan offered, ignoring Penny’s slightly harsh tone.

“Or, maybe we can go and try to talk to her after dinner,” Penny countered. They were all her friends and they all were concerned about her.

“Guess we could do that too. I just thought maybe going in as a group may put her on the defensive is all,” Rowan reasoned.

“Well then maybe just you and I go then,” Penny bartered, quick with her reply.

“…Okay,” Rowan conceded with a shrug.

“Barnaby, are you okay,” Penny asked the hunched over Slytherin who looked like he was on the verge of tears.

“I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do to make her feel better,” Barnaby cried out in anguish. The rest of dinner pretty much consisted of comforting Barnaby.

Keira hugged her knees to her chest as she sat on the cool ground. A light breeze sent a chill throughout her body but she had no desire to go inside. In fact she sort of welcomed and enjoyed the crisp autumn-almost-winter air. She took another deep breath as her grey eyes stared fixed on the reflection of the night sky on the surface of the Black Lake.

She knew her friends were looking for her, probably wandering all throughout Hogwarts. But she needed to be alone right now. And she hoped if they came out there looking for her they wouldn’t see her still figure sitting in the dark. Fortunately, Hogwarts and its grounds were pretty vast so if they did stumble upon her it shouldn’t be for some time. Or ever, if it was up to Keira.

Another small breeze blew a strand of her hair back, away from her face, sending another chill throughout her body. After a day of so much anger and rage coursing through her, Keira now felt drained. She felt exhausted and completely depressed. She just wanted to curl up by the fire in the Common Room, stare out into the lake, and be left alone, but she knew that wouldn’t be a possibility. Her friends had been on her all day about what was going on with her and she couldn’t escape Rowan and Barnaby in her House’s Common Room. And she felt so guilty keeping things from them and pushing them away when she saw how concerned they were and how much they wanted to help but she couldn’t talk to them about this.

So if she couldn’t stare out into the lake from her Common Room then she would come outside and enjoy it out there in the cold night air. And now, after her day of slamming books and desks, thrashing a goal hoop post, possibly throwing and breaking some things in the Slytherin Dorm while her friends were at dinner, and storming away from everyone in a fit of rage, Keira just wanted to cry.

She had tried so hard to conceal her anger, push it down so she didn’t explode, which obviously didn’t go according to plan since she had her little outbursts, but they could have been worse. She would still have some explaining to do to her friends, which she had no idea what she would say so that added another layer of stress. But she could worry about that tomorrow, that’s what she told herself anyway so she wouldn’t get overwhelmed. And now she was using what little energy she had left to hold back her tears. Although that was beginning to become quite the fail as well as a couple tears escaped her eyes and ran down her face.

Keira didn’t know how long she had been out there, but this was the most calm she had felt all day. Albeit, sad, but at least not full of unbridled rage unsure of what to do with it or how to safely let it out. She could let out her emotions presently, finally able to put down her defenses now that she was finally alone, and cry as much as she wanted without anyone around judging her or her friends panicking over her, trying to figure out what was wrong and how to help. Sometimes, a lot of times, she needed to be alone. And able to just let her emotions out without any questions or judgments or anyone trying to stop her and fix it – things were not so easy to fix!

But she wasn’t ready to let everything tormenting inside of her out just yet. She just wanted to sit there in silence, not thinking about anything and, if she could help it, not feeling anything.

She jumped and whipped her head around when she heard someone approaching from behind her. And of all the people she thought would find her out there – Rowan, Penny, Hagrid, Professor Snape – this was the last one she wanted finding her.

“Are you supposed to be out here at this hour, Miss Black?”

Keira narrowed her eyes at their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher before slowly standing up as her professor continued.

“Not that I’m one to talk. I broke curfew all the time when I was student here,” Professor Rakepick bragged before pausing a moment as she studied the girl. “So, is this where you ran off to when you left in the middle of my class?”

“If you want to punish me for that, go ahead,” Keira replied coldly as she continued to stare out at the lake.

Professor Rakepick looked taken aback by the Slytherin’s reply but quickly wiped that look off her face. “I don’t plan on punishing you, Miss Black,” she informed her student which came as a surprise to Keira, “But I would like an explanation for that display in my class.”

“I wasn’t feeling well,” Keira answered, using the same excuse as before when her friends asked her. Which wasn’t a total lie – she didn’t feel well! She felt sick to her stomach, in fact!

“Is that so? Yet you did not go see Madam Pomfrey.” Keira could feel Professor Rakepick’s eyes boring into her but she held her ground. “I checked with her after class. After that fit you threw.” Keira tensed up, her hands fisting at her sides. That anger she had been wrestling with all day and finally thought she was rid of was beginning to boil again.

“So if you were, in fact, not feeling well, then why did you not go see Madam Pomfrey,” Professor Rakepick continued to interrogate.

“I ran into Professor McGonagall. We had a private Transfiguration lesson,” Keira informed her.

“Oh I see. So you’d rather learn Transfigurations than how to defend yourself against dark wizards and witches and evil beasts -“ Professor Rakepick stopped as she noticed Keira scoff and shake her head, and she assumed roll her eyes but the Slytherin had yet to look at her. “Well then, if that’s not what the problem is then why don’t you share what is really bothering you,” she commanded, crossing her arms.

Despite this order Keira did not reply forcing Professor Rakepick to make an assumption. “If this is something about the Cursed Vaults –“ she stopped again as Keira let out a hollow laugh.

“You know what your problem is,” Keira suddenly spoke, turning to finally face the former Head Curse-Breaker. Professor Rakepick wasn’t sure if she should be offended or intrigued at what this girl had to say.

“You think you know everything. Have seen everything. Faced it all. You’ve travelled everywhere, facing dangerous creatures and dark wizards and tombs full of traps, breaking curses on numerous artifacts which could kill you – all of this has given you a superiority complex. You walk around here like you’re better than everyone because you think you have faced every challenge life has to throw at you and conquered it, so clearly you’re the most powerful, strongest, and bravest witch there ever was.

“But you don’t know everything. And you definitely have not faced and conquered every challenge life can throw at you – not even close. You have no idea what real bravery and strength is. Real bravery and strength is getting up every day and putting yourself out there to try and make your life better even when the entire world is against you. Being kind and compassionate to others even when all they do is judge and hate you without ever getting to know you. Enduring excruciating mental and physical pain time and time again, being completely alone after losing everyone close to you, but you keep going and never let it consume you.

“There are much more difficult things to face and overcome than some cursed artifact or dark wizard. Some things you can never overcome and have to figure out how to cope with every day for the rest of your life. So you can’t stand up there and preach to all of us like you’ve seen it all and overcame it all, like it’s so easy to do, and you just know it all because you don’t! You have no idea how hard it is! And for you to make others who have to endure their challenge every day, who can’t just cast a spell and be rid of it, whose challenge is more about how horribly others treat them because of who they are instead of their actual struggle, feel worse about themselves is wrong. It’s harmful towards individuals and society. You are adding to the narrative and stereotypes, enabling the ignorant hatred and violence, permitting others to turn against people, some good people, who need understanding, compassion, and help. So you and everyone else can shut the fuck up about things you don’t understand because you have no idea, no idea, what real struggle and bravery and strength is.”

She couldn’t sit back anymore, keeping everything inside, pretending everything was okay.

Not today.

If anyone had seen him out there wandering around the castle grounds at night they would probably assume he was up to his usual dragon expedition. And if anyone had asked him what he was doing, he would probably claim that’s what he was up to. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want to admit he was out there looking for her. Maybe because if he did then Penny or Rowan or one of their other friends would want to join him and if he found her he wanted to talk to her alone.

So while the rest of the gang scoured around the ever changing layout of the school, Charlie snuck outside. She may be inside, hiding out in her Dorm or an empty classroom, or maybe even at Hagrid’s or at the Quidditch Pitch. While those were all viable options, Charlie was one of the few who knew about her strong connection to water and how it helped calm her down and bring her peace, even if that meant her jumping fully clothed into the Black Lake and getting in trouble by her Head of House.

He paused when he noticed the figure sitting at the edge of the lake. He had almost completely missed her but upon getting closer realized that it was in fact her sitting there. A small smile formed on his face, perhaps a bit smug that he was the one to find her before anyone else. And he was glad that he found her before anyone else because now he could talk to her alone without Penny and Rowan’s constant questions while trying to outdo each other on support and concern in their suppressed ‘who was Keira’s best friend’ competition, and Barnaby and Tonks doing anything and everything to get her to laugh, their antics growing in ridiculousness and recklessness; and, alright he hated to admit it because he loved his older brother who was also his best friend, but without Bill swooping in with his older brother wisdom and comfort. Yes, Bill was the oldest but Charlie was an older brother too and cared just as much about his younger siblings and could provide older brother love and care too! And he cared just as much for Keira as Bill and the rest of their friends and would always be there for her just like he would be for any of his family.

As he started to make his way towards her, possibly going over what greeting to give when he approached her in his head, Charlie spotted another figure making their way down to Keira adjacent to him. Once he realized who it was as they addressed Keira he darted behind a nearby tree – he didn’t need to get detention or house points taken away, especially as a Prefect. Or get a scolding lecture by Bill. Plus, it would be rude to interrupt, right? Still, he didn’t want to leave Keira to get in trouble either. Maybe he could figure out some reason they were out there so late and save them both from punishment.

As Charlie tried to come up with an excuse as to why he and Keira would be out there in the middle of the night that would be accepted by the Curse-Breaker turned Professor the air suddenly changed. Everything suddenly got heavier, tense, colder, dark.

“You know what you’re problem is?” Charlie looked up as he heard Keira’s cutting tone towards their professor. He had never heard her speak like that before. And to a Professor nonetheless!

Charlie continued to stare in shock as Keira finally exploded after everything building up inside her through the day she tried so desperately to internalize spilled out. But this wasn’t like other times when Keira had unleashed her Irish temper on someone else, normally for bothering one of their friends or at Merula for her morbid jokes about Jacob being dead. This wasn’t like those times Rowan told them about where Keira needed to throw, hit, and break things to finally let out all her pent up anger and frustration. Those were fueled with fire, spoke with a blazing intensity, a raging fury that would cause adrenaline to course through veins and fill the air with this heated tension like a fight was about to break out. One of the reasons she was feared on the Quidditch Pitch.

But this – this was a different side of Keira, one he had never seen. It was dark and cold. Her words were still filled with passion but were made of ice and stung sharply. The heavy, biting cold change in the atmosphere differed wildly from its heated counterpart. It was more ominous, sinister, intimidating. It sent a chill down his spine. This darker side of Keira kind of terrified him. Her eyes were like piercing daggers as she stared down their Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, standing her ground firmly. Even as she shouted and swore – oh Merlin she just swore at a professor – her words were still icy and full of disdain. While her Irish temper flared up a call to action, this chilling vibe was more apathetic, like she didn’t care what happened, what the consequences were.

But he knew, under that icy, stone cold exterior and beneath the vicious ire and stinging of her words, this darker side of Keira was hiding a lot of pain. And despite fearing her a bit, being a little intimidated – which he knew she would be flattered by – mostly, Charlie felt heartbroken for her, a wave of compassion where he just wanted to be there for her, support her and allow her to feel safe to let out everything she was holding in and then reassure her and make her smile. Surprising to him, he also felt protective over her. He wanted to do whatever he could to keep her from hurting.

He knew she was suffering a lot over her missing brother, but she was so good at appearing like everything was fine, sometimes they forgot everything she was going through. And then when it showed… it killed him to see her upset. He couldn’t even imagine what it would be like if one of his siblings went missing and he had no idea where they were or if they were safe or even alive.

And seeing her upset like this, in a much different way than they had previously witnessed, and having no real knowledge of why she was so upset was agonizing. This was why Barnaby was practically in tears at dinner. If it wasn’t about her brother and the vaults, since she just snapped at Professor Rakepick about assuming it was about that – which was a fair assumption he thought! – then what was it about?

Her frosty and hostile outburst at Professor Rakepick unfortunately still did not give him a lot of clues as to what was really going on with her.

An eerie and tense silence fell once Keira finished. Charlie assumed Professor Rakepick had no idea how to respond to that since who could have predicted she would have gone off like that? And to her? Professor Trelawney would probably claim she could have but no one would believe her.

~*~*~*~*~

Much like Charlie assumed, Professor Rakepick stood there aghast at the student’s outburst. While she did her best to maintain a neutral face it was difficult to completely hide her shock.

“Um….E-excuse me?”

A meek voice interfered through the tense atmosphere causing both women to look towards where it came.

It was fortunate they were interrupted. Professor Rakepick had yet to fully process everything that was said, and how it was said, from this girl to her and therefore had yet to determine how to respond and handle the situation. Normally quick at problem solving and leaping into action, since while risking your life breaking curses one could not always afford the luxury of time to analyze a situation and think through all possible options before choosing one, this particular situation surprisingly had caught her off guard and threw her off enough that she did need a moment to step back and think about what action to take.

And for Keira, well, it delayed her from getting punished, she assumed, and took the attention off of her even if just for a moment. Even from the Gryffindor boy hiding nearby behind a tree, unknown to her and their professor, whose attention was also grabbed by the surprise appearance of another person.

Rowan stood there awkwardly, looking nervously between her best friend and Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Both were unsure how long Rowan had been there, how much she had heard, but she looked pretty frightened and uncomfortable.

“S-sorry to interrupt,” Rowan started as both women turned their attention to her. She shifted uncomfortably under their intense gazes and avoided eye contact with either of them. “It’s um… we uh…” she stammered, fidgeting with her hands. “We have Astronomy class,” she finally managed to get out.

Professor Rakepick studied the intruder before looking back at Keira with a smirk. “Well, it looks like it’s your lucky day. You have a viable excuse to get out of this conversation.”

“I don’t need an excuse,” Keira replied in that same cold, sharp tone, turning her attention back to the red haired professor. “This wasn’t a conversation.”

Once again, Professor Rakepick wasn’t sure if she should be disrespected or impressed with how her student was speaking to her, challenging her.

“Really? Well Miss Black –“

“I have class.” Keira cut her off curtly as she waltzed right past the professor and over towards the still fearful looking Rowan. “Let’s go Rowan.”

Rowan glanced over as her roommate and best friend walked past her and continued to head back toward the school, flinching slightly at her dark tone, before looking back over at Professor Rakepick. She gave her a sheepish, apologetic smile before turning and hurrying to catch up with Keira, or at least get away from their Professor and tense atmosphere before Professor Rakepick turned her frustration on her.

Keira didn’t talk the entire way back to the school and up to the Astronomy Tower. She didn’t even complain about the stairs as she always did. Barnaby and Rowan shared concerned looks the entire walk to the Astronomy Tower and throughout class.

And while everyone looked through their telescopes and charted the stars on their charts, Keira just stood there looking up at the sky. Rowan and Barnaby glanced over worriedly at her as they worked on their class work.

“You can borrow my star chart if you need it,” Rowan offered quietly, a little nervous to experience that darker version of her friend again, especially directed at her.

Instead, however, a faint smile formed on Keira’s face as she continued to stare up at the sky. “Thanks, Rowan,” she answered softly. She clearly would need it since she wasn’t doing any work during class.

“You can borrow mine too if you want,” Barnaby offered. “I made my own constellation of a Kneazle,” he announced rather proudly.

“Very impressive, Barnaby,” Keira told him in the same soft tone as she continued to stare up at the sky. She would appreciate his constellation more later. Despite her lack of enthusiasm, Barnaby still grinned proudly at her praise.

Soon enough class was over with Keira not doing an ounce of work. “Come on, Keira. Let’s head back to the dorm,” Rowan said as she slid her mittens back on. The chilly weather alluded to winter right around the corner. “We can sit in front of the fire and get warm. I’ll make cocoa.”

“Ooo, cocoa,” Barnaby exclaimed excitedly.

“You guys go on ahead. I’ll be down later,” Keira told them, still standing in the same place and staring at the sky as she had been all through class.

“Are you sure? It’s getting pretty cold out here,” Rowan said, staring at her friend uneasily.

“I’m fine,” Keira assured. “Canadian, remember,” she added with a small smirk causing Rowan to visibly relax. There was her friend who she knew and loved.

“We can stay out here with you then,” Rowan said, glancing at Barnaby before she set her bag back down.

“No, thank you. I’d rather be alone,” Keira told them.

Rowan frowned slightly and shared another concerned look with Barnaby before hesitantly picking her bag back up. “Okay, well, if you’re sure. Don’t stay out here too long though,” Rowan gently warned her. That glimmer of her friend being her normal self gave Rowan a sliver of hope that she was okay, or at least would be soon, and made her feel comfortable enough to leave Keira alone. Rowan motioned to Barnaby to follow her as she headed for the Astronomy Tower stairs.

A feeling of extra weight on her shoulders was the only thing that broke Keira from her trance on the sky. She looked over, surprised to see a smiling Barnaby who was laying his robes over her shoulders. “Two sets of robes should keep you warmer than one.”

Keira stared at him a moment before smiling back at him gratefully. “Thank you, Barnaby.” She was amazed she didn’t start crying right then and there. This whole time she had been fighting back tears and his sweet, thoughtful gesture almost caused her to break.

Barnaby smiled more and nodded at her before picking up his bag and hurrying after Rowan. “Don’t be too long or there won’t be any cocoa left!” It may have been something small but he was happy to see Keira smile and be able to make her feel better, even if just a little bit.

Keira watched her friends leave, a small appreciative smile on her face. However, as soon as the door shut behind them tears began to steam down her face. Finally alone and exhausted from her day of trying to hold everything in and keeping it together, and failing in emotional filled outbursts, Keira allowed herself to relinquish her emotions, crumbling to the cold, hard floor.

“It was really scary,” Rowan admitted as she finished telling Barnaby about the outburst she witnessed Keira have at Professor Rakepick.

“Wow… She’s not going to get expelled, is she,” Barnaby asked anxiously.

“I hope not. But I don’t think Professor Rakepick would do that,” Rowan assured after a brief moment of thought. “It was just…so weird seeing her like that. It wasn’t like her other breakdowns it was –“

“Darker?” Rowan and Barnaby paused outside their Common Room entrance as a familiar figure stepped out from their hiding spot – had to avoid Professor Snape!

“Yeah…What are you doing down here, Charlie” Rowan asked as she studied the Gryffindor suspiciously.

“Where’s Ady,” Charlie asked, getting straight to the point. His direct and serious attitude was very different than his usual calm and cheerful self.

“You’re a Seeker. Why don’t you find her yourself,” Rowan replied, folding her arms being the ever protective friend that she was.

“I just wanted to talk to her, make sure she was okay,” Charlie sighed. “I saw the outburst down at the lake at Professor Rakepick,” he admitted in a whisper causing Rowan’s eyes to widen.

“You did? How? Where? I didn’t see you –“

“I was behind a tree –“

“So you were spying?”

“No, I – look, that doesn’t matter. I just want to make sure she’s okay. So where is she?” Rowan continued to study the Gryffindor silently. She couldn’t help being protective over Keira. She was her first and, in a way, only friend. Sure, they had made this group but she was well aware the lynchpin that got them and held them all together was Keira. None of them would even acknowledge her existence if it wasn’t for Keira. Well, maybe Penny who befriended everyone, even the loners.

She knew she could be overprotective of Keira and become fearful of her connecting with and getting closer to others because she was afraid of losing her. So being the only close friend that was also her roommate allowed her to have a special connection with Keira by being there for her during her late night breakdowns and nightmares. And she didn’t want to lose her role as the comforting, supportive friend during those dark times. Because if someone else started doing that for her, then what would Keira need her for? That’s what Rowan feared anyway.

And while their gang liked to talk about the possible blossoming relationship between Charlie and Keira that they both seemed completely oblivious too, Rowan would be damned if she would allow a love-struck Weasley to take her place in Keira’s life!

“She’s still up on top of the Astronomy Tower,” Barnaby answered when Rowan seemed to refuse to.

“Barnaby,” Rowan scolded.

“Did she get hold up after class by Professor Sinistra,” Charlie asked, turning his attention to Barnaby who was proving to be much more helpful than Rowan!

“No. She said she wanted to be alone. Even turned down cocoa,” Barnaby informed him, earning him another glare from Rowan which he seemed oblivious to.

Charlie nodded his head as he listened to his fellow magical creature enthusiast before grinning at him and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, Barnaby.”

“Wait,” Rowan called as Charlie started to hurry down the hall, causing him to skid to a halt and look back at her quizzically. She paused a moment as she contemplated her next move before sighing and giving in. “Bring her some blankets. It’s cold.”

Charlie smiled softly at her as he hurried back over to them. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Thanks.”

“I gave her my robes to help her keep warm,” Barnaby chimed in.

Charlie grinned at him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “That was very thoughtful of you, I’m sure they’re helping a lot.”

Once Rowan returned from the Slytherin Dorm with a couple blankets piled in her arms she handed them off to Charlie, albeit a bit reluctantly. “Don’t be up there too long.”

“Yeah, you guys have to come down and have cocoa with us,” Barnaby added with a grin which was the complete opposite vibe of Rowan’s warning.

“Cocoa sounds great. I’ll do my best,” Charlie told them, thanking Rowan again for the blanket before he hurried off to the Astronomy Tower.

“Ady,” Charlie called as he entered the top of the Astronomy Tower. His eyes scanned the area before he began walking around, trying to find his friend. “Ady, are you still up here?”

Keira had slid down the parapet that surrounded the tower collapsing onto the floor, Barnaby’s robes still wrapped around her. She sat on the ground, curled up into a ball, withdrawing into herself. Her knees were pulled up to her chest with her head buried in them, her hands tangled up in her hair as she clawed at her scalp, shoving her hair out of her face, as she quietly sobbed.

Charlie stopped and stared at the heartbreaking scene before him. His chest tightened as he tried to process seeing the normally so strong and put together Keira looking utterly hopeless and defenseless. Besides probably Rowan, none of them had ever seen Keira like this. Even when Rowan told them about Keira’s breakdowns he could never really envision it. She kept so much to herself. She never wanted them to see her like this. She didn’t want Rowan to either but it was hard to hide it from her.

For a moment Charlie thought about leaving her alone and giving her her privacy. However, when he saw her shiver from the increasingly frosty air he glanced down at the blankets in his arms before daring to walk over to her.

Keira’s head jolted up when she felt another weight on her shoulders. How did this keep happening? She glanced briefly at the blanket around her shoulders before looking up at the culprit, very surprised not to see Rowan or Barnaby.

“…Charlie,” she asked, as if her eyes were playing tricks on her.

“Hey,” Charlie greeted softly, with a small warm smile.

“Wh-what are you doing up here,” Keira asked as she quickly wiped away her tears still streaming down her face.

Charlie frowned slightly as he watched her. He didn’t mean to embarrass her. “Well, I heard you turned down cocoa to stay up here so I thought I should bring you some blankets to make sure you stay warm.” He tried to lightly joke about the cocoa, throwing her a reassuring smile but unfortunately that didn’t seem to make the situation much better.

“I’m fine. It’s not that cold,” she sniffled. “And I’d prefer chocolate right now over cocoa.”

“Right, right, I know, Canadian. Still,” Charlie said handing out the other blanket to her. “And I’ll remember chocolate for next time,” he added with another grin, another attempt to get her to smile, even a little one.

Keira eyed the blanket a moment before begrudgingly taking it from him. There, was he happy now?

Apparently he was since he smiled slightly as he watched her drape the blanket over her lap, doing her best to cocoon herself in the blanket layers around her.

“There. You gave me the blankets, I’m all toasty warm now, so you can go. Go and have cocoa with the rest of them,” Keira dismissed, waving a hand at him and the staircase door as she avoided eye contact with him.

“…What about you,” Charlie asked tenderly.

Keira froze up a moment at the unexpected gentle and caring tone of his voice. Why did he have to be so sweet? Made it hard to be cold and dismissive in an attempt to push her friends away when they were so caring!

“I’m fine. I want to be alone,” she informed him, hugging the blanket around her shoulders closer to her.

Charlie nodded his head and studied her a moment, contemplating his next move before slipping his bag off over his head and sitting on the ground next to her.

“What are you doing? I said I want to be alone,” Keira snapped.

“I know but I don’t think it’s good for you to be alone right now,” Charlie answered. Keira turned her head slightly to watch the Gryffindor closely as he made himself comfortable on the floor next to her, scooting under the blankets with her, draping them over his lap and shoulders as well.

She tried to think of something to say to argue his statement but she was having a hard time coming up with anything. Probably because he may be right.

Plus the fact that the second eldest Weasley radiated warmth like his favorite creatures was comforting in its own way in the chilly night air.

Once Charlie got himself situated under the blankets he smiled warmly over at her causing Keira to glance away. Sorry, Charlie, but she was not in the mood to be smiling and happy just yet so she had to get away from his infectious grin.

“I suppose you want to talk, know what’s going on with me,” Keira muttered as she wrapped her arms around her legs, hugging her knees closer to her, her right arm brushing against him since they had to be practically pressed together to both be completely covered under the blankets.

“Only if you need to. We don’t have to talk about it you don’t want to,” Charlie assured. “Don’t have to talk at all even.” Unlike some of their other friends, like Rowan who had such a thirst for knowledge, who would want to know, need to know, what was going on to make her so upset to comfort her, Charlie just wanted to make her feel better. Sure, he would like to know what was bothering her to better help, but he wanted to be a comforting and supportive figure at all times, for anything going on with her, even things she didn’t want to discuss. Or wasn’t ready to talk about yet.

So whenever she was upset about anything she knew she could always turn to him and he would be there and wouldn’t interrogate her with a million questions. He was simply there for her in any way she needed. If she needed to talk something out, or just vent and have someone listen, have someone lighten the mood and take her mind off of things, or even someone to just have near as they sat in silence with.

They sat in silence for a while, Charlie shifting to lean back against the parapet as he stared up at the night sky.

“You probably think I’m crazy,” Keira murmured after a moment, breaking the silence.

“I don’t think you’re crazy,” Charlie assured with a small chuckle.

“I keep storming out of rooms and I’m sure Barnaby told you guys what happened at Quidditch practice,” Keira said before a realization dawned on her. “And I’m sure Rowan told you about what happened before Astronomy Class,” she groaned, sounding somewhat embarrassed.

“Oh yeah, your outburst at Professor Rakepick,” Charlie murmured, remembering it himself.

“So she did tell you about it, great,” Keira grumbled.

“Well… not exactly. I mean, I think I overhead her talking to Barnaby about it but…” Charlie watched her a moment before sighing. He didn’t want to upset her more by telling her he saw her outburst at Professor Rakepick firsthand but he also didn’t want to lie to her or make her think her friends were sitting around talking about her negatively. “I sort of…saw it. I was… kind of there,” he admitted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What?” Keira’s head popped up off her knees before turning to face him, the first time all night she had directly looked at him that wasn’t some passing glance. Charlie was now the one avoiding eye contact as he continued to stare up at the sky trying to ignore her heated gaze on him. “What do you mean you were there? I didn’t see you!”

Oh great, déjà vu.

“I was behind a tree… I was looking for you to make sure you were okay and I found you the same time Professor Rakepick did, she was just closer. So I hid behind a tree and tried to figure out a reason why we were both outside so late so I could get us out of trouble. Before I had time to do that you sort of went off on her. I didn’t know you were going to do that!” Charlie quickly explained the situation from his point of view before she had a chance to start accusing him of being a creeper spy like Rowan did or thinking poorly of him.

“Oh my – putain de merde!” That set Keira off on another outburst but in French as she did some times when she was so overwhelmed or upset she couldn’t fathom it in English, so Charlie had no real idea what she was saying but she was flailing her hands a lot and appeared to be mortified so he could assume what she was going on about.

��Okay, okay, okay! It’s alright, I don’t think less of you or anything,” Charlie tried to reassure as he grabbed at her hands to stop them from flailing and grab her attention. He managed to finally capture her hands in his after a few failed attempts, stopping her frantic hand waving that accompanied her bi-lingual rant. He lowered their hands to their laps as she started to calm down and thankfully stopped her French rambling. His warm hands encompassing her naturally icy ones provided their own comfort and calming quality.

“It’s okay,” he said again gently, “I know you weren’t planning on having an audience or probably even planning on having that outburst – although, I must say it did sound pretty well thought out,” he complimented causing Keira to groan. Like she wasn’t embarrassed enough! “And, alright, I admit it was a little frightening, but-“ Keira let out another mortified groan and sunk her head lower, “But,” he reiterated, giving her hands a reassuring squeeze, “It was also… pretty impressive. I mean, badass. That’s what you’d like to be called, right? You stood up for what you believe. That’s what it sounded like anyway. And you stood up to Professor Rakepick which is not an easy thing to do. Well, easier than standing up to Professor Snape probably,” he laughed slightly.

“Listen, I know you’re having a hard day. We all know you’re having a hard day. And that’s okay. You don’t have to hold everything inside all the time. It’s not healthy. It’ll take a toll on you. And it’s going to find its way out in one way or another. And sometimes when you’re having a hard time you can’t help spreading that around, snapping at people… misery loves company, that’s what my mum says. And sure, you’re bound to be embarrassed by your behavior because it’s emotional and out of the norm, especially for you because, you know, you don’t really like being emotional. But we all have bad days and times when our emotions get the best of us, so we understand. I mean, you’re always there for us when we’re struggling and having a bad day and are understanding and don’t think any less of us, so why wouldn’t we do the same for you?”

Keira seemed to relax as she listened to Charlie’s reassuring words, letting them sink in as she processed them. Charlie watched her a moment before smiling encouragingly. “And, to be honest, I think she was kind of impressed with you going off on her like that. I don’t think you’re going to get in too much trouble. Maybe none at all.”

“So… you don’t think I’m crazy or irrational or whatever,” Keira asked quietly as she kept her gaze down.

“No, I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re having a hard, emotionally exhausting time and it finally burst out after you tried to hold it all in,” Charlie reassured, causing a small smile to form on Keira’s face even if only for a brief moment.

“Wow, you’re a great Prefect,” Keira told him before quickly adding after a beat, “And older brother.”

Charlie couldn’t help but beam at that compliment. “Thank you.” Take that, Bill!

“I don’t know how you and Rowan could ever look at me the same after witnessing that,” Keira admitted.

“We’re both worried about you. And, okay, maybe a little more scared of you than before but I thought you’d like that,” Charlie teased, surprised to hear a small laugh escape from Keira.

“You guys have to stop worrying about me so much,” Keira told him.

Charlie couldn’t help but scoff slightly. “Easier said than done. I care about you.” Keira looked up at him, appearing somewhat surprised by his honest and genuine declaration. Her grey eyes locking on his caused him to falter briefly. “W-we care about you. We’re you’re friends,” he added much more clumsily than his previous statement.

Keira’s eyes searched his face a moment before smiling softly. “I don’t know how I got so lucky to have such amazing, caring people in my life.”

Charlie smiled back at her, giving her hands another squeeze before the sudden realization they were still holding hands dawned on both of them and a faint blush spread across both their faces.

“Uh, well, you know, we’re your friends,” Charlie said inelegantly as they both awkwardly took their hands away from each other. He cleared his throat before continuing. “We’re your friends. We care about you. And when you care about someone you’re always there for them no matter what.”

Keira nodded her head a couple times, agreeing with his statement, before her face started to scrunch up as she tried to hold back more tears but it was in vain. Charlie tensed up as tears once again ran down Keira’s face. Those were not happy tears! Oh crap, what did he do to make her start crying again? He thought they had gotten past this and she was smiling and laughing and feeling better!

“Oh shit, I’m sorry!” Charlie panicked slightly as Keira buried her face in her hands. He didn’t know what he said or did to cause her to cry but he felt awful. He slid his arm underneath the blanket resting across their shoulders and hesitantly draped an arm around her shaking frame. He knew she wasn’t really comfortable with a lot of physical contact but in his family they were pretty tactile, physically affectionate and comforting people. Fortunately, she didn’t shrink away from him or seem to mind the physical act of comfort at all.

After a few moments Keira seemed to calm her breathing down enough to speak clearly. “No, you’re right. And I want to help, I just don’t know how,” she wept.

Charlie watched her attentively, trying to decipher what she was talking about. He felt it was safe to determine she wanted to help someone but didn’t know how to, but who she wanted to help and why she was struggling so much with what to do was a complete blank for him. Was it one of their friends? Was someone in their group having an issue they were all unaware of? Keira was normally the one everyone in their gang opened up to.

“Well, I’m sure we can figure something out –“ he tried to reassure before she cut him off.

“I can’t tell you.” Charlie nodded his head. Okay, he could understand if it was a private matter. But then how was he supposed to help her figure out how to help this person if he didn’t know what the problem was?

“It’s just not fair,” Keira continued. “Someone so giving and caring and good – a good person – should not have to suffer and struggle so much! And I just want to help but I can’t,” she sobbed as Charlie attempted to soothe her by rubbing her back.

“Why can’t you,” Charlie asked gently, hoping this was a safer question and route to go than what the actual problem was for whomever they were talking about.

“Because,” she shouted defensively before her shoulders slumped and she once again appeared broken and defeated, “I’m not capable enough to.”

Charlie was unable to hold back his cynical laugh but he did his best to stifle it, especially when Keira looked rather offended by it.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry. I just… You? Not being capable? Come on.” Keira continued to stare at him incredulously. “You have overcame every obstacle that’s stood in your way when facing these Cursed Vaults and finding your brother. You’ve learned every charm, potion, transfiguration, learned all you can about any and all subjects even remotely related to these Vaults, you’ve snuck into forbidden places, dueled and fought off powerful witches, wizards, and creatures – there’s nothing you can’t overcome. So pardon me for not believing you when you say you’re not capable enough.”

Keira studied him a moment silently before turning to look away, casting her gaze down once again. “There you go again with the reassuring, big brother/Prefect, speech,” she muttered.

“Ah, but I’m not your big brother or your Prefect,” Charlie replied, grinning at her compliment nonetheless and the fact that it had helped, even a little, since she was no longer a bawling mess.

“No, you’re not,” Keira agreed quietly. She suddenly felt a sharp pain in her chest as more tears welled up in her eyes. Oh, Merlin, she wished Jacob was here. She could talk to Jacob about this. He’d be the only one to really understand what she was feeling. She took in a deep, shaky breath as she shoved thoughts of Jacob aside. She could not handle missing her brother on top of everything else she was dealing with today. She was already overwhelmed enough, adding Jacob to the equation… it would be too much, overpowering; it would be disastrous. “And I appreciate you saying all that. But I think the only reason I’m able to do all that is because you guys all help me,” she admitted.

“I don’t know. You’re a pretty determined person. I think even without us helping you’d find a way,” Charlie disclosed to her, resting his arm around her shoulders once again, a bit more casually this time, causing Keira to scoff slightly.

“Determined? Or stubborn,” she asked with a small smirk.

Charlie smirked slightly himself before replying. “You’re strong and smart and brave – you’re highly capable. We’re just here to offer our support.”

“I could have never gotten into or through the Forbidden Forest without you,” Keira said, turning to look up at him once again. Her sincere confession had caught the Gryffindor off guard as he sat there sort of gawking at her. Hey, he was supposed to be the one reassuring her, not the other way around! But hearing that she needed him really touched him. A faint blush spread across his face and he swore he saw Keira smirk smugly to herself, if even for a brief second.

“And I could never brew potions as great as Penny,” Keira added, snapping Charlie out of his thoughts.

“Well no one can brew potions like Penny, not even Professor Snape,” Charlie declared. Keira nodded her head slightly before resting her chin on top of her knees, once again looking defeated and lost. Charlie watched her a moment with a frown before a thought dawned on him.

“Wait, is that what you need? A potion?” When Keira didn’t reply he continued. “Because if you need a potion you could ask Penny. She would do anything to help you and making a potion is clearly no problem for her. And you know it would be done right, so why don’t you just –“

“I can’t.” Keira cut him off once again with a cold remark.

“I’m sure she could make it no questions asked if you tell her you can’t disclose to her why you need it. She would understand. And it’s for you. She’d make you any potion you wanted even if you didn’t tell her why you needed it,” Charlie tried to reassure.

“It’s not that simple,” Keira informed him but that didn’t really tell Charlie much.

“Why not,” he asked innocently.

“Because it’s not! It’s more complicated than that and I can’t tell you why it is! And even if I did ask her to make me this potion I need without telling her explicitly who or what it’s for she would easily figure it out. So, no, I cannot ask Penny to make me the potion I need.” Charlie couldn’t help but flinch slightly at her harsh tone but he understood her frustration and knew it wasn’t personal.

“Okay… So why not try and make it yourself,” he suggested carefully.

“I can’t! I told you I’m not capable. It’s complicated and hard and I’ll probably make some deadly poison instead,” Keira groaned before placing her forehead against her knees as she buried her face once again in despair.

Charlie resumed rubbing her back as he thought of what to say. Since his attempts at reassuring her and providing helpful suggestions were not going over well, he thought he’d try his hand again at lightening the mood. “Maybe Professor Snape will help you,” he joked, causing a hollow laugh from the downtrodden Slytherin.

“I thought about trying to find some to buy from some shady dealer in Knockturn Alley or something but I wouldn’t feel comfortable trusting it,” Keira admitted as she sat back upright.

“I’m sorry I’m not very good at Potions,” Charlie admitted apologetically.

“It’s okay. I wouldn’t expect you to be anyway,” Keira replied.

“Hey!” Now it was Charlie’s turn to be the offended one. His insulted cry caused the Slytherin to laugh as she apologized, and this time it actually sounded like a genuine laugh which encouraged him to continue. “You think the only thing I’m good for is trekking around the Forbidden Forest?”

“No. You also know a lot about Quidditch,” Keira retorted with a smirk before laughing more at Charlie’s exaggerated reaction.

“Oh so I’m good for two things! When you want to talk about Quidditch or hear about dragons Charlie is the one you need! Need a potion or skilled wizard don’t bother.”

“That’s not true,” Keira told him between laughs. “Andre is the one to go to to talk about Quidditch.”

“Ohhhh well excuse me,” Charlie cried out, causing Keira to laugh more. “So I’m just the one to go to when it’s about dragons or wandering around the Forbidden Forest? And I specify dragons because I know if I say magical creatures you’ll say you have Barnaby for that,” he accused, Keira nodding her head to confirm his suspicion. “Oh, okay, so I’m just the dragon specialist then?”

“Dragon Master,” Keira corrected.

“Dragon Mas- Dragon Master? Actually that’s a pretty cool title. Dragon Master.” Charlie stopped his overdramatic antics to mull over this new name while Keira’s laughter finally started to die down.

She really needed that.

Charlie looked over at her, once he decided that Dragon Master should be his official new nickname, and smiled to himself as he saw her finally smiling. Even if it didn’t completely reach her eyes, even if there was still this hopelessness lingering around her, he made her smile, got her to laugh, and gave her a little bit more happiness in this awful day she was having.

“Hey,” he spoke softly, grabbing her attention as she looked up at him curiously. “We’ll figure it out.” Keira smiled sadly up at him but there was a small glimmer of hope in her eyes. He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before, much to his surprise, Keira shifted to lay her head on his shoulder.

“Did you want to see some drawings I did today instead of taking notes in class,” Charlie asked after a moment, reaching over to grab his bag with his free hand. He felt like he had his best luck that night at making her feel better by getting her mind off of whatever was bothering her.

“Are they of dragons,” Keira asked in a slight mocking tone.

“I wouldn’t be the Dragon Master if they weren’t,” Charlie retorted as he brought out his notes from today’s lessons and laid them on his lap. “This is a Hungarian Horntail,” he started, pointing to a dragon sketch on top of his Charms notes.

“Of course it is,” Keira muttered. He drew one of those every day, she swore, since it was his favorite.

“Yeah, yeah,” Charlie teased, moving on to the next page of notes. “These are a couple of ideas I had if you bred a Swedish Short-Snout with a Chinese Fireball.” Keira let out a small chuckle at the weird looking snout that could possibly be produced if these two breeds ever mated. Charlie smiled to himself as he heard her amused laugh. So far, so good.

He appreciated that he could talk to her for hours about dragons, his theories, show her his drawings like these of what crossbreeds may look like, and she never appeared bored or annoyed. In fact she would ask insightful questions about his theories, sometimes even add to them, ask about dragon blood uses, if there were ethical ways to attain dragon hide-made clothing or dragon horns which are used in many potions.

Charlie turned to his next page of notes before tensing up slightly. Oh no, these were his Defense Against the Dark Arts notes. That’s when her already bad day became unbearable. Maybe he could just casually set those aside and move on to another page…

“What’s that,” Keira asked, pointing to a drawing he had done on the bottom of his parchment.

Charlie hesitated before answering her. If this made her start crying again he might as well pack up and leave because clearly he wasn’t comforting her as well as he should be, or at least wanted to be. He didn’t want to keep making her feel reassured and laugh to then become a sobbing mess again! He had to break this cycle!

“That’s uh… Well, you know today’s lesson was on werewolves so naturally I thought what would happen if a werewolf bit a dragon,” he cautiously explained, watching her closely as she continued to stare at his dragon drawing. So far no crying…

“So, I present to you the weredragon,” Charlie said a bit proudly of his new creation. His illustration depicted a creature with a dragon body and tail but werewolf like claws and a werewolf head, fur trailing down its neck and tail and along the back of its legs as well as along its wings. Keira studied the image closely, silently, the expression on her face unreadable. He was not going to be able to handle it if she burst into tears again, especially because of him and his drawing he just had to show her.

“…What do you think,” he asked warily. He was stunned when a smile crept onto her face. He for sure thought this was going to lead to another emotional breakdown, one he would feel entirely responsible for and, therefore, horrible.

“I love it.” Well that certainly was not the reaction he was expecting! “I think it’s my favorite.” Charlie grinned to himself and relaxed as Keira stared at his drawing fondly.

“Yeah? Well then I’ll draw you your own and you can hang it up in your room,” Charlie told her.

“Only if you sign it,” Keira replied, glancing up at him briefly to throw him a small smile, earning a smile back from the Gryffindor.

“Okay, but it’s not going to be worth anything,” Charlie replied.

“It’s worth something to me,” Keira informed him.

Charlie grinned to himself as he felt warmth spread within him from his chest. He slid his Defense Against the Dark Arts notes onto her lap so she could continue to admire his illustration before continuing on with his next set of notes. “This is an Ukranian Ironbelly setting fire to a small village.”

“Wow, that’s a bit gruesome and dark for you,” Keira observed.

“I have to stay true to the dragons and their natural instincts. Besides, the people of this village probably try to steal its eggs and kill its kind so it’s just retaliating to defend itself and kin,” Charlie explained.

“Wow so there’s like a whole backstory to your drawings,” Keira teased. “Maybe you should write a book.” Charlie chuckled before attempting to further this tale he already began, even creating some actual characters with names and their own backstory, lightheartedly cultivating this imaginary book of his.

The two sat atop the Astronomy Tower, discussing dragons, other magical creatures, and wherever their conversation led them, exchanging ideas, balancing out their teasing with reassuring encouragement, accompanied with some laughter.

The image of the couple cuddled up under their layers of blankets as they deepened their bond through meaningful, pleasant, and enjoyable conversation was illuminated by the bright light radiating down from the full moon that hung ominously in the velvet night sky.

“That’s Algiz, that’s Teiwaz,” Keira explained as she motioned to the corresponding runes, causing the eldest Weasley to stare at his practice test she administered for him in confusion.

“How do you remember all this,” Bill asked as he continued to look over his answers, focusing on the wrong ones.

Keira shrugged. “I don’t know, just do. They’re used in alchemy and I love alchemy so maybe that’s why,” she suggested. Bill nodded his head, half listening to her before groaning, his head flopping back on to the couch. The two were sitting on the floor in front of the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room, leaning comfortably back against the couch. Keira had perfected the art of getting in and out of other Common Rooms, partially with Penny’s help who somehow learned how to get in and out of every House’s Common Room in her First Year – her popularity most likely aided in that. But Keira figured out her own way of getting into the Gryffindor Common Room all by herself Second Year, which she was pretty proud of. And who didn’t like being a little rebellious and being somewhere they shouldn’t be? Fortunately, no one really seemed to mind when she was in another House’s Dorm.

“I’m never going to get this,” Bill groaned hopelessly. “How am I supposed to remember everything from the past seven year plus everything they’re going to teach us this year for the N.E.W.T.s,” he cried out in despair.

“Don’t worry, you’ll pass them all with Outstanding’s…. Well at least Exceeds Expectations,” Keira attempted to reassure, and maybe also tease a little.

“But I need O’s to become a Curse-Breaker,” Bill exclaimed. She had never seen the Gryffindor so stressed out before and it was honestly scary.

“How about we take a break –“ she began to suggest calmly which unfortunately caused Bill to erupt in another frantic, stressful shriek.

“There’s no time for breaks!” Keira stared at him with wide, fearful eyes.

“Okay… then, how about you keep studying and I’ll go get us some study snacks and make us some tea or cocoa…. Or maybe something stronger,” she muttered as she carefully stood up and took a couple steps away from the hysterical, anxious mess that was formerly William Weasley. How could she forget study snacks, they were an essential part to the studying process!

Bill continued to pour over his many textbooks and parchment piles of notes, mumbling incoherently, probably reading out loud to himself in an attempt to help him better remember. Seeing him like this was really causing Keira to consider leaving after Sixth year so she wouldn’t have to suffer through this same, sad fate.

As she contemplated her future the arrival of another redhead caught her attention. “Charlie!” Eagerly calling out his name like that was a little embarrassing but she managed to brush it off as she reached into her bag and pulled out a small box tied up with a ribbon before hurrying over to him.

Charlie paused when he heard his name called upon entering the Gryffindor Common Room after Quidditch practice. He had planned on going straight upstairs to take a shower but someone sounded like they needed to speak with him right away. He was quite surprised to see the Slytherin bounding toward him. No matter how many times he saw her in their Common Room he was always surprised. How did she always manage to get in there? Not that he was complaining!

“Hey,” he greeted with his classic, infectious smile, running a hand through his hair possibly trying to tame it from its sweaty mess thanks to his Quidditch practice. Oh great, he probably smelled awful…

It had been a little over a week since he found her crying on top of the Astronomy Tower and since then things had felt a little awkward between them considering he found her sobbing on top of the Astronomy Tower. Keira wasn’t one to normally show her emotions or be so vulnerable in front of anyone, so he was sure she felt a little embarrassed about that and he didn’t want to make her feel judged in any way or like their relationship had changed; although, clearly it had changed, but not in a negative way! He didn’t want to make her feel awkward in any sort of way so he had been keeping a slight distance between them, thinking she may want some space from him after sharing such a vulnerable moment with him. They hadn’t really spoken or spent time alone since then.

Although when they had their next Defense Against the Dark Arts class he did try to give her a little pep talk, accompanied with a brief pumping up shoulder massage like one gave boxers, before they entered the classroom with Barnaby and the rest of their friends who shared that class with them, and continued to give her reassuring looks throughout the class.

Also, as promised, he drew her her own personal weredragon picture which he slid over to her the other day while their gang was having another study session in the library. Keira looked thrilled to receive it and he was pretty positive she wanted to give him a hug. She did slide it back over to him to have him sign it, although he still didn’t understand why she would want that, before she took it and hung it up by her bed in her Dorm. He was a little nervous when he gave her that picture, it could bring back memories of that night which weren’t exactly the happiest, but then, yesterday when she passed him a note in Charms asking what would an Antipodean Opaleye and a Hebridean Black crossbreed look like he felt reassured that things were well between them.

Despite those moments, they still had not spent any time one-on-one, their friends always around them when they interacted the past week and a half. Until now, it seemed.

“Hey,” Keira greeted with a grin as she stopped in front of him. “Have a nice practice?”

“Yeah, it was… tiring,” Charlie admitted, sounding a bit out of breath actually. “What are you doing in here,” he asked curiously before he was unable to resist teasing her, a charming smirk playing on his lips. “Wait, don’t tell me you were waiting for me? Miss me?”

Keira rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smirking slightly herself. “No. I’m here helping your brother study for his N.E.W.T.s – Ancient Runes,” she informed him, motioning to his disaster of an older brother behind her.

“My mind’s been Obliviated,” Bill groaned.

Charlie glanced over her shoulder before wincing slightly. “I’ve never seen him so stressed before.”

“Yeah, me neither. But once he gets through his exams and finds out he passed them all and is able to become a Curse-Breaker he’ll be back to his chill, cool self,” Keira reassured before handing him the small wrapped box excitedly. “Here.”

Charlie looked down at the apparent gift for him. “What? What’s this,” he asked curiously as he hesitantly took the box from her.

“It’s a thank you slash early birthday present,” Keira told him, unable to keep herself from grinning.

Charlie studied the box a moment before frowning slightly. “You don’t have to get me anything.” Of all the Weasley’s she had encountered, Charlie was the worst one at accepting gifts. She was well aware, as were most people, they were not the wealthiest family but she wasn’t trying to give them any sort of handouts out of pity. She didn’t think a birthday or Christmas gift was out of line, or a thank you for being there for me when I needed you gift.

“But I wanted to,” Keira informed him matter-of-factly, so don’t argue with her! “Besides, everyone should get something for their birthday.”

“But it’s not my birthday yet –“

“I said it was an early birthday present,” Keira corrected him. “Slash, thank you gift. Just open it,” she urged excitedly.

Charlie huffed slightly, not nearly as excited as she was, before untying the ribbon around the box. “Alright, alright.” His grumbling came to a halt when his eyes saw what lay in the box.

His gift was a small bronze statuette of a dragon. Although it had no real discernible features if he had to wager a guess it was probably a Hebridean Black since it had four legs and wings, instead of its wings making up its front claws as well, and had an arrow-shaped spike at the end of its tail. Whether she bought this because it resembled her favorite dragon or for some other reason, like it being the only kind they had, he had no idea, but since it resembled her favorite dragon on top of her gifting it to him he would definitely always think of her when he looked at it.

He stammered slightly as he took the tiny dragon figurine out of its box for a closer look, trying to find the words to thank her but he was also mesmerized by this unexpected present. Keira looked a bit smug, but mainly overjoyed, as she watched Charlie’s eyes lit up.

“But wait, there’s more,” Keira announced excitedly, causing Charlie to look at her quizzically before glaring at her slightly as she took the statuette out of his hand. Hey, that was his! She walked over to one of the tables in the Gryffindor Common Room and set his dragon figurine on it, Charlie close behind – she took his dragon!

“What? Does it do something,” Charlie asked curiously as he studied it closely. “Ooo, does it breathe fire,” he asked excitedly. Finally he was getting enthusiastic over receiving a present!

“Not yet,” Keira replied with a smirk as she took out her wand. “As you may or may not know, Professor McGonagall has been giving me some private lessons in Transfigurations.” She cleared her throat before pointing her wand at the dragon statuette. “Draconifors.” With a slash of her wand a fiery red light emerged and illuminated his figurine. When it dissipated his dragon had appeared to come to life!

Charlie’s eyes widened the size of bludgers before he let out some inhuman noise of pure elation. “It’s a dragon!” Keira laughed slightly as his overjoyed reaction, moving her wand slightly to cause his now living dragon figurine to walk along the table. Charlie crouched down to be eye level with his little dragon, watching it in fascination. He was like a kid in Honeydukes. Keira smirked more before, with a flick of her wrist, the dragon leapt onto Charlie’s head. He let out another excited squeal, for lack of a better word, as he slowly stood up, his eyes rolling as far as they could, attempting to look at the dragon on top of his head.

“This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” he informed her as he carefully reached up to grab the dragon from his head and gently held it in his hand.

“I’m very happy to hear that. But it’s not a real dragon, unfortunately. I mean, it kind of is, but not really,” Keira tried to explain. “I asked Professor McGonagall to teach me the Draconifors Spell after reading about it in one of the additional readings she suggested to me. It’s supposed to be able to transform small objects into dragons that you can control. They’re obviously a lot smaller and less powerful than a real dragon but they’re still really cool. And cute.”

Charlie stroked the tiny dragon in his palm with one finger from his free hand. “It is cute,” he agreed, sounding like he was only half listening. Keira wasn’t going to take offense to him ignoring her at the moment.

“You know, if you’re good I’ll teach you the spell and you can turn this little guy, or any small object, into a dragon whenever you want,” Keira offered.

That seemed to grab Charlie’s attention as his head snapped up to look at her. “Yeah? Really?”

“Well, if you’re good and don’t piss me off,” Keira reiterated.

“I drew you a personalized, signed, picture,” Charlie argued.

“So? Barnaby draws me a magical creature picture every day,” Keira informed him. So he would have to do better!

“How about, if Gryffindor beats Slytherin in the next Quidditch match you have to teach me,” Charlie wagered causing Keira to scoff.

“I am not going to be able to handle you crying after you lose,” Keira retorted.

“I would not cry! …. Need I remind you I helped you get through the Forbidden Forest to find the Cursed-Vault in there,” Charlie replied with a smirk.

“Need I remind you how I helped you gather up enough money to get a dragon egg from some shady dealer which turned out to be an Acromantula egg,” Keira debated, placing her hands on her hips. She was pretty sure she won that round.

Charlie and Keira glared playfully at each other before something out of the corner of the Seeker’s eye caught his attention. “Uh, Ady, I think your study buddy is having a nervous breakdown.”

Keira frowned quizzically before turning around to see Bill agitatedly running his fingers through his hair and pulling at it. Oh, Merlin, he was literally about to pull his hair out.

“William, no! Your hair is your best feature. You’ll never be able to get a date without it,” Keira cried as she hurried over to eldest Weasley and grabbed onto his wrists. Charlie chuckled slightly as he watched them before turning his attention back to his new little dragon. Hmm, what should he name it…

“Charles!” Charlie’s head snapped up when he heard his name, and not his friendlier nickname, called. “Help me with your brother,” Keira demanded as she tried to wrestle Bill’s hands away from his head.

Charlie glanced down at the tiny dragon in his hand. “Come on little guy, let’s go show you to Bill. That should take his mind off his exams.”

~*~*~*~

“Ooo chocolate cake,” Keira gasped excitedly as she grabbed a slice of the leftover dessert from dinner. It was another late night hang out in the kitchens of Hogwarts for the Cursed-Vaults Gang…Crew… they had yet to decide on a name.

“Could you grab me some too, please,” Penny asked politely as she gathered drinks for everyone.

Keira cut another slice of cake for the Hufflepuff and set it on a plate before licking off some remnants of chocolate icing off her fingers. “So…” Keira glanced over as she was joined by the Gryffindor Seeker who swooped in and leaned casually back against the stone wall next to her. “Looks like things are good now between you and Penny.”

“Were we fighting,” Keira asked curiously.

“Well, not exactly, but you can’t deny there was some tension between you two for a while there. I mean, she did cause you to storm out of the library that one time,” Charlie reminded her.

Keira glanced back at the blonde Hufflepuff as she handed out everyone’s drinks to them. “Yeah, well, we’re good now,” she told him with a small smile. “Actually… there was sort of a… crucial situation that kind of made us address the issue. And I think it was really good, for both of us. She got to face and work through some things and I got her to teach me how to brew that potion I needed so I’d call it a win-win,” she confided in him.

“Yeah? That’s great,” Charlie exclaimed with a grin. “See, I told you we’d figure it out.”

Keira frowned slightly and paused. “Wait, what did you do, exactly?”

“I provided emotional support?” Keira fought back a smile as she looked up at the cheesy grin of the Gryffindor.

“That may be true but that didn’t necessarily help resolve the issue,” Keira pointed out.

“The point is it’s figured out so all is well. See, no point in all that blubbering,” Charlie teased earning himself a playful – well, partially playful, partially anger fueled – smack from the Slytherin. “Ow!” Charlie rubbed his chest where she hit him, trying to appear emotionally hurt but he couldn’t keep from smiling. He was glad they were at the point where they could talk and joke about it now and it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable anymore.

“Oh, you’re fine. You get hit by bludgers all the time,” Keira retorted as she picked up the two plates of chocolate cake.

“I think you stopped my heart for a second there,” Charlie teased causing Keira to roll her eyes as she smirked to herself.

“Maybe that’ll teach you to be nicer to me,” Keira replied a bit smugly as she turned to bring Penny her piece of cake.

“Maybe…” Charlie started before a smirk spread across his face and he quickly snatched a plate of chocolate cake out of her hand – this was not the Golden Snitch! “Or maybe I like a challenge,” he cried in typical Gryffindor fashion, before hurrying away from her and to the safety of their friend group.

“Charles!”

~*~*~*~

Connerie – Bullshit

Putain de merde – Fucking shit

Needed Information on my MC: Nereida Keira-Adelyn Black, goes by her middle names, Charlie likes to call her Ady; born in Ireland, grew up in Canada; part undine;

Remus Lupin is legal guardian/godfather, although not feeling he was the best fit to take care of Jacob and Keira (financially or for health reasons) after their mother passed they were raised by close friends of their mom in Canada. When they decided to attend Hogwarts instead of staying in Canada for school to connect with their Irish and English heritage, Remus, being the only person they knew, and really family they had, when they arrived in the UK for school, did his best to watch over them and take care of them since he couldn’t leave them to fend for themselves in a new country all alone. Fortunately, they were very independent and when he took the necessary precautions during the full moon he didn’t have to worry so much about them managing on their own. He didn’t feel comfortable staying at their home without them their so he really only lived with them (and had a good place to live/stay) during holidays and the summers, assuming the moon phase allowed. He also, of course, refused to accept any money or gifts from them although Keira demanded he should get a birthday and Christmas present at least and promised not to be too extravagant (but it’s not fair he has to live in poverty, he can stay at their home! He’s family!)

He and Keira clearly got very close since Jacob went missing and he proved to be probably the best at helping them with their watermarks and other undine characteristics. He tried to keep the fact that he was a werewolf from them as long as possible, not wanting to scare them or cause them any worry especially when they were so young but it wasn’t too difficult for them to figure out (he always left around the full moon every month and his nickname was Moony – come on! Keeping with tradition =p Keira found out Remus was a werewolf during her Third Year) and it ended up being a sort of bonding moment considering they were not completely human either and he knew what undergoing a painful transformation was like. (Being around Keira and Jacob who reminded him so much of Sirius and James also may have helped Remus feel less alone.) Keira is fiercely protective over Remus. They also like to send each other packages of chocolate every month – Remus may not be able to afford much be he somehow always manages to find enough money to send her a little bit of chocolate.

(One of these days I will make a post for my MC’s bio… Hope I explained her relationship to Remus well enough. I really need to make some posts just about my MC, even if no one cares and it’s just for me. Also I don’t care if people hate me trying to have my character connected to the Marauders, we all love Remus and he deserves love and happiness! Like we all don’t want to be connected to them anyway…)

A/N: I’ve been having a lot of Remus Lupin feelings lately. I’ve even started making a Remus Lupin, and a Remus x Tonks playlist… Idk… I have had some other ideas about Remus I might write although they, one in particular, would go against canon but… does that really matter? =p But there is definitely one involving Remus I really want to write so it’s going to happen, probably next! It’s almost like a werewolf trilogy thing I’m starting to create! <.<

Hello, I’m incapable of writing a short fic. =p Can’t even write a brief authors note… I have a lot of thoughts!

I know we all, particularly me, enjoy pointing out how great an older brother Bill is but Charlie is also an amazing older brother – reassuring, nonjudgmental, willing to smuggle a dragon out of Hogwarts for you, no questions asked. The Weasley’s have such great, chill, older brothers – Love this family! I also believe the Weasley family is a more affectionate family, physically and verbally; growing up with so many people, and in tighter living quarters, you also had to get used to touching someone else while just trying to eat at the table =p

Also, in case there are any questions or those who believe I’m contributing to the erasure of Charlie’s sexuality, I assure you that is not true. Being on the ace-spectrum myself (as is my MC) I am doing my best to convey him on the ace-spectrum as well. Also, just because someone is ace/aro doesn’t mean they are unable to care about others and forge meaningful relationships.

What’s the deal with me and the Astronomy Tower/Class – no idea =p I also believe the reason Professor McGonagall has not taught us the Draconifors spell is because she knows Charlie will use it all the time on everything!

Was the first Chaser who wanted more… aggressive tactics Marcus Flint? Perhaps… Did I go through the House Point leaderboard on the game and make a Slytherin Quidditch team? …Yes =p (If you’re interested let me know and I’ll post it. And if you want your MC on the team can do [I’m Captain of this ship!] – unless you want to be a Beater in which case have to be reserve, sorry, Barnaby and my MC are Beater Buddies!)

So here’s the deal – I began writing this before the Werewolf event in the game happened and I was already starting on the ending scene when the event came out so please excuse any discrepancies. I did add in a couple references to it and although clearly it would be out of order since the Werewolf event clearly happened around Halloween and this I had set late November (okay, full disclosure, I looked up the moon phases for that year and November 23 would be a full moon which I thought was perfect since I wanted it to be cold and it was close to Charlie’s birthday) BUT in my defense I started writing this first before the event came out so therefore it happens first! =p And then… idk, Time Warp =p Maybe Fenrir attacked around the Christmas feast instead of the Halloween one? The event did help me figure out how MC got Penny to teach her how to brew Wolfsbane potion which also provides a two-part epilogue! This could also work with Chiara I think too assuming Penny hadn’t met her yet so you can imagine that if it works out better for you but this was for Remus!

You’re all welcome I resisted adding a “Not Today Satan, Not Today” gif in this because the urge was real! …I still might

Other Hogwarts Mystery Fics:

Under the Stars - Fluff at the End of the Year Ball with Charlie

I know it’s not very fluffy or a follow up to Under the Stars so if you want to remove your tag or need me to do it let me know;I hope that was all I was supposed to tag! If you want to be added to the tag list let me know =) Or if you just want to discuss HPHM things or ideas hmu!

@sungoddessra @sly-vixen-up2nogood @bexeris @tatlikar @cinnamoncam

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comingcalum · 6 years

Text

masterpiece - C.H.

art student!calum decides to draw a masterpiece

word count: 2.2k / Third person (Calum x Amelia)

Amelia was in a world of her own as the lecturer in front of her rambled on about some building in the middle of Rome. A spare blue pen was tucked behind her ear, and she chewed on the end of her pencil as she stared at the half-completed drawing in her notebook. She pursed her lips and squinted at the page, trying to pinpoint why it didn’t look like she had imagined it to. The hair! It just wasn’t sitting right on her face. She poked her tongue out between her lips in concentration while she erased it, redrawing it until she was satisfied. She tried to make a masterpiece every time the lead touched the page, but some days it didn’t come as easily.

Meanwhile, a few rows behind her, a boy - Calum was his name - was also drawing his own masterpiece. He was erasing and redrawing the lines so frequently that the people a few spaces away from him were getting annoyed at the sound. Nevertheless, he persisted. He had to get this drawing perfect, for no other reason than the fact that he was a perfectionist. It was ironic really, the fact that he chose to be an artist with such a meticulous personality. The boy beside him - Luke - let out a low groan and turned to face Calum. He stopped what he was doing and looked at him, expecting a conversation to ensue.

“This class is so boring, I don’t know how you do it dude,” Luke whispered, scratching his stubble.

Calum looked down at the drawing in front of him and then back at Luke. “I don’t, I just draw,” He chuckled, returning his attention to the sketch. He paid special attention to the sharpness of the jawline.

“I don’t know why you don’t just tell her,” Luke said again and Calum looked up to meet his tired eyes. There was a small smile dancing on Luke’s lips and Calum just rolled his eyes.

“It’s not that simple,”

“Except it is,” He insisted. “All you have to do is go up to her and be like… Hey Amelia, you’re fucking gorgeous and I’d love to fuck your brains out,”

Calum’s eyes widened and he looked around the room sheepishly to make sure no one could hear their conversation. A few eyes were darting their way and he hoped no one had heard about his little crush. The last thing he needed was for her to find out from someone else, it would be like high school all over again, and he definitely didn’t want that.

“Shut up, she’s so much more than that…,” He shook his head and began sketching her again.

“So you’re just going to draw her in your notebook until she is literally embedded into your brain?,” Luke asked.

“I gues-”

“Luke! Calum! Do you have something you would like to say?” The lecturer shouted, and both Calum and Luke sat there, mouths hanging open. Calum slammed his notebook shut before anyone could see what was inside.

Amelia jumped at the sudden interruption and turned around to look at the two boys causing the disturbance. She stares at Calum and Luke, mouths hanging open, and chuckles softly to herself as she waits for them to answer. Calum’s eyes meet hers and his breath catches in his throat, a blush rising to his cheeks. She just smiles at him, her head resting on her hand. He likes the way her hair looks today, the wild red waves tucked behind her ear with a stray hair resting on her temple. He makes sure to take in as much of her as he can, like the way her nose and cheeks are covered in freckles, and how when she smiles at him her dimples appear. In Calum’s eyes, she was the prettiest thing, and he tried to do her justice in his notebook, but he didn’t think it could come close to how beautiful she was in person.

Luke elbows Calum in the ribs and he finally finds the courage to speak. “Uh, no sir, sorry,” He clears his throat and the lecturer nods, returning to speaking moments later. Amelia turns back around and continues her drawing.

“Good one, idiot,” Calum glares at Luke and he just shrugs, attempting to focus on the lecture without much luck. Despite the embarrassment, he couldn’t shake the image of Amelia burnt into his mind.

Calum looked at his watch, wondering when the lecture was going to be over. 12:47 p.m. “Shit,” He mutters under his breath. Luke looks at him with his eyebrows raised, watching Calum turn from embarrassed to stressed in a matter of seconds. He begins frantically packing his belongings away, stuffing them into his bag without much care. The lecturer’s annoyance is evident, but he’s glad to see the boy leaving.

“Dude, I gotta go sorry,” He whispers to Luke, giving him a pat on the back as he climbs over the front of the table. He jogs down the stairs and heads to the door. Amelia looks up and watches him hurry toward the door, but returns her attention to the lecture before the door slams shut.

A few minutes later and the lecture ends, everyone scurrying out as fast as possible to attend their next class for the day. Amelia is the last one to leave, not in any rush as she had the next hour free. She finishes up the last touches of her sketch and smiles to herself, happy with how the drawing turned out as it wasn’t her strength. She enjoyed painting much more, and she was much better at it too. She painted from the inside out. All her emotions or struggles were imprinted on the canvases when she painted. The colours, the different shades, lines, textures, they all resembled a little part of how she was feeling. When she wanted to escape the world, she picked up a paintbrush, and that was her escape.

After packing up her belongings, Amelia headed to the door. It was now 1:29 p.m. As she was pushing her earphones in, she noticed a small brown book in the corner of her eye. It was partially hidden behind the rubbish bin near the door, but it wasn’t hidden enough to make her think it was intentionally put there. She picks it up, running her hands over the soft brown leather. The notebook showed some wear in the corners, but there was no name on it anywhere. She wonders how long it’s been sitting there and if it’s missing its owner. She doesn’t want to pry, but she needs to find the owner, so she opens the book and tries to find anything that may help her determine who the book belongs to. There’s a few scribbles on the front page, and she assumed it was the page where they tried to get their pen working. She turns the page, and there’s a few casual doodles, like they were practicing, eyes, hands, and lips were scattered across the paper, but they were so realistic. The person had gotten the shading perfect. She turned the page again, there was a drawing of the moon phases, and she blinked in disbelief, amazed by how well drawn everything had been in this book so far. On the next page, there was writing instead. It read “And you’ll move on, and fall in love with another brain, another soul. And i’ll still be here, waiting,” she felt the words tug at her heartstrings.

The door in front of her flew open and she let out a gasp, leaping in fright as she slammed the book shut and held it against her chest. It was Calum. He froze when he saw Amelia, and then he noticed the book she was holding in her arms. It belonged to him.

“I, uh-,” He stutters, pointing to the book in her arms.

“Oh, this.. This is yours?,” She asks, peeling the book from her chest as she reads the writing on the page again. He nods and scratches the back of his neck, chewing on his lip.

“Do you mind? You’re insanely good,” She smiles at him, waiting for reassurance to carry on flicking through his notebook.

“Thanks, I tend to just draw whatever feels right at the time,” He replies, and Amelia starts turning over the pages again. He awkwardly shuffles to stand beside her, looking at his past artwork with her.

Calum watches her as she admires his artwork. He watches her tuck her hair behind her ear every so often because it tickled her face. She ran her slender fingers over the page occasionally, and he watched her take her bottom lip between her teeth, concentrating on what was in front of her. She looked up at him every so often too, but he looked away - he didn’t want her to catch him staring. The longer he watched her, the more delirious he felt. The deep red freckles against her pale skin was such a nice contrast that he was in awe. When Calum was around her, he wondered how it was possible that he had ever felt sorrow. Her forest green eyes were always soft, willing, as if she was eager to listen to all your problems and help you fix them. And when she smiled - god, that smile - the one where she showed off her perfect teeth as she scrunched her eyes shut and let out a giggle. That smile would be the death of Calum - it left him weak at the knees. All he wanted was to grab her face and kiss those pretty lips of hers.

As he thought about her and how perfectly her hands would fit in his, he remembered something. Something he didn’t want her to know yet. And it was there - in that very book she was holding. He knew it was on the next page, but he didn’t want her to stop - but he did - but he didn’t. He held onto the smallest bit of hope that she would love it, and then turn around and kiss him on those pretty lips of his. But that was a bit of a stretch, he knew that. They had only talked a handful of times, mostly when she needed help with graphic design - something she struggled with. He knew she preferred a paintbrush to a pencil, and a canvas to a computer screen. Yet, he still wanted her to know how he felt, without actually having to say it out loud to her. As she flipped the pages, the portrait of her came into view, and Calum turned to face the other way, not wanting to see her reaction.

“Um-, Yeah… I forgot that was in there,” He lied, his hand running through his hair as he pulled lightly on the curls.

“Calum...I,”

“I know it’s stupid, I’m sorry, it’s just you looked so beautiful and I just had to save that moment without it being creepily on my phone..,” He paused. “I guess it’s still creepy because it’s in my book… but anyway, yeah, you just… you’re just gorgeous, and you felt right at the time, IT-it felt right at the uh.. time,”

Calum questioned whether he had really just said that out loud. He cringed internally when he realised he had, and he tried to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t in a dream. Amelia noticed and laughed, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Calum, no, it’s great, it looks just like me, except better,” She chuckled, not tearing her eyes from the drawing of her. It was almost as if it was a photo. Every small detail about her was apparent on the page - the septum piercing, the one freckle that kissed her ear lobe, the freckle under her eye- everything. Even the tip of her tongue poking out between her lips was drawn, and she laughed, somewhat embarrassed at her concentration face. She was flattered, and she could feel her heart racing at the thought a boy like Calum would choose her as his subject. Underneath it, she was built from fire was written in cursive. She smiled at the comment, and remembered how her mother had always told her she didn’t have red hair for nothing.

“That’s not possible,” He whispered, and Amelia looked up at him. Her lips curled into a small smile, and Calum watched her carefully. She closed the book after that and handed it back to him. He stuffed it into his bag, careful to make sure it’s not going to fall out this time.

“Well, I better go, I have class in…,” She looked at her watch. 1:43 p.m. “Seventeen minutes,”

As her hand wrapped around the door handle, she turned around to give him another smile, waiting to see if he had anything to say. He did.

“Actually, Mel-” His eyes widened at the nickname that had just rolled off his tongue, and she giggled at his reaction.

“It’s fine, you can call me Mel,” She replied.

“Great, okay… Mel, did you want to go get a bite to eat after your class? I have the rest of the afternoon free,” He asks, scratching the back of his neck. Amelia began to notice he did this when he was nervous.

“That would be lovely,”

“I’ll see you outside…,”

“L block, at 3 p.m.,” And with that, Amelia disappeared out of sight.

Calum looked around to make sure no one was there, and then fist pumped the air, grabbing his phone out of his pocket to text Luke about what had just happened.

Well, I thought this was a really cute concept. I based it off an au :) Hope ya liked it. (Tbh, I think it could be improved a lil but it’s fine for now)

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spacelion-loveshermulletson · 6 years

Text

Luca hc’s / AU Part 5

The officers on the Atlas, as well as the Altean Princess, kept on coming and they kept asking Luca their questions. That didn't stop. But Keith kept his word about not pushing her whenever he'd come to visit. Their time together were mostly spent making small jabs at each other while playing with whatever Keith'd bring with him for her. Sometimes they'd talk about trivial things, stuff they liked doing before all this, and sometimes they'd read books or comics in silence, but still enjoying each other's company.

Once, Keith brought with him an item that played music. That day had been mostly spent listening to different kind of songs and Luca had enjoyed it imensely.

He would also bring her different kinds of food that held more flavors in them than the ones she'd gotten in the beginning, saying something about his friend refusing to make her only taste the bland store-bought meals when he could easily make something himself now that he'd gotten access to the kitchen. Luca didn't get why he would take the time to cook for a prisoner, but she wouldn't complain about it. Last week, Keith brought her something called ”pasta” and Luca had loved it. She couldn't rememebr the last time she'd eaten anything that good.

Keith had laughed, saying that he would tell Hunk that she liked it. That the Yellow Paladin would be happy and perhaps she could get more pasta meals.

Luca sure hoped that would be the case.

...

Luca appreciated Keith's effort in giving her things to do when being bored.

While she had never really been fond of drawing, she kept the sketchbook Keith gave to her and filling the pages mostly by just mixing together different colors.

It looked good enough, in her opinion.

Keith would draw. He'd draw sketches of different sceneries and animals, showing them to her. Luca felt absolutely freaked out over the long necks of the ”giraffes”. How do they balance themselves? Wouldn't a crick in the neck be such a pain? (Keith: ”That is... actually a really good question. *mumbles* Do giraffes even get cricks in their necks?)

Luca liked looking over his drawings. Keith'd always look sheepish and a bit unsure of himself when showing them, but Luca thought they looked amazing. She could see the care and effort being put in and while she hadn't seen it for herself, she believed that the sketches of the landscapes were realistic. On the other hand, when they played a game of finishing sketches of different objects the quickest, the works of both of them came out really messy. You almost couldn't tell who had drawn what.

One time, Keith made a sketch of her in his sketchbook. It had been one of those days when they didn't really feel like talking, so they both sat and did their own thing. Keith sat in a corner and sketched while Luca continued reading some comics. By the time she had finished 2 of them, Luca looked over to Keith and her eyes met a rather intense stare. Luca blinked, a little taken aback and Keith imidiately turned his gaze down again with an awkward look on his face.

Luca: Is...something the matter?

Keith: No, sorry. I got lost in thought.

He went back to his sketchbook and Luca decided to shrug it off. The more time that passed though, the more curious she became. She had went from reading to listening to some cd's at this point and yet Keith was still sitting in the corner, pen glued in his hand. Luca wanted to see what he was skecthing.

Luca: Is it finished soon?

Keith looked up, startled.

Keith: Uh.. Yeah. Almost.

Luca: Can I see it?

Keith hesitated. He glance down at his sketch and fiddled a bit with his pen.

Keith: It's just a doodle. I don't think you'll be that impressed by it.

Now, Luca really wanted to know what was going on. Keith had never hidden his drawings before, so she knew he was keeping something from her. Well, Luca wasn't known for giving up when she wanted something.

She stood up, quickly walking toward him. Keith felt his body tense up.

Luca: Come on, let me see it.

Keith: It's really not that impressive. If I can get more time to fix the details-

Luca grabbed hold of the sketchbook and fixed her gaze on Keith, challenging him. Keith gripped his book tighter and met her in the staredown. They both sat like that for at least 10 minutes before Keith finally yielded and loosened his hold.

Keith: Fine. You can see it.

Luca gave him a victorious grin and then she snatched the sketchbook, eager to see what he had worked on.Her grin quickly slipped off once her eyes fell on the page. Keith rubbed his neck in silence.

Keith: I'm sorry... I know I should have asked for permission, but I just...

Luca stared down at the sketch. The sketch of herself. Her long hair, the shape of her face, her pointy ears, her Altean marks, her eyes... Luca took in every last detail.

Keith: Are you okay..?

Luca gave a short nod, her eyes glued to the paper. She looked so.... beautiful. Luca didn't know she could look like that through someone else's eyes.

Luca: Can I keep it?

The question came out in a soft voice. Keith blinked in surprise, but soon found himself smiling.

Keith: Of course.

…

The more they spent time together, the more Luca found herself enjoying herself. She wanted to know more about the Paladin.

Where did he grow up? What was his childhood like? What made him become a Paladin of Voltron?

She had so many questions.

When Luca learned that Keith was considered the best pilot of his generation, she imidiately grew enthusiastic to talk about their training and what had made Keith want to become a pilot in the first place.

Luca too was considered the best when it came to piloting the mecha. She had found something to personally bond over with the other.

Keith had told her that he had always wanted to leave this place. To fly among the stars. He had wanted to prove himself greater than what others made him out to be, to be more than the hopeless orphan who nobody expected anything from.

Luca could relate to that. She had lived a good life in the colony, but she had always wanted to leave their hiding place, to go out and explore the universe and become part of something bigger. She had never felt like she'd truly fit in with the other Alteans. Not since her parents left. Others had tried, of course, but her intense personality had made most of them turn away at some point. Except for Merla. Merla had kept coming to her to spend time together even when Luca would lash out in annoyance.

Merla hadn't grown tired of her.

The thought of the other girl made Luca's heart grow heavy. She missed talking to her.

Merla had been the only one Luca would truly call her friend. She was the only one who was perssistent enough to stand by Luca's side. When bringing this fact up to Keith, she thought the other would call her a lonewolf or something similar, which he did, but he said it so fondly that Luca was unable take it as an insult.

Keith: Honeslt, the only reason I even got the chance to become a pilot is because of Shiro. He got in a good word for me and even when I messed up, he didn't leave me. He took on the role as my mentor. Now, he is my best friend.

Luca had listened to him in interest. It was amazing, really, how alike the two of them were.

Luca: I guess we both used to be lonewolves then?

Keith laughed.

Keith: Yeah. It's a good thing we both found someone to build a pack with, though. It's hard to survive when you're all alone.

Luca agreed with that. Without Merla, she probably would have worked herself to death before even getting the chance to leave for this mission. Merla had made sure she'd gotten enough rest and had forced her to go and eat together with the others. She had slowly dragged Luca further into her own pack of wolves. Luca might not have appreciated them as much as Merla, but she had been less alone.

Looking over at Keith, Luca realized that here, she always felt less alone whenever he was around. The fondness that were starting to build up in her chest felt close to the same she felt when Merla would refuse to leave her and Luca decided that she didn't mind it.

Keith was someone she was happy to call a companion.

Luca smiled, mournfully.

If only he could have been part of her pack.

#voltron #vld #au #hc #luca #vld luca #voltron luca #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #voltron season 8 #vld keith

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littlesundragon17 · 6 years

Text

Freezerburn Week 2018

This whole week of writing will be a collaboration with @littlesnowdragon

Day 1: Soulmates AU

Word Count: 6759

“So...who am I meeting again?”

Blake turned slightly to look at her, giving Yang her trademark deadpan expression. “Ruby’s new friend from class.”

“Oh,” Yang hummed, pursing her lips slightly, “That’s...”

Any other day, she would've had no issue meeting Ruby's friends. In fact she would've been elated. There was a little bubble of joy and pride that always filled her up whenever she saw her sister leaving her comfort zone and socialising.

Unfortunately, today Yang was just really, really tired.

The walk from Beacon High's soccer field wasn’t exactly a long one, but with nationals around the corner and Pyrrha’s insistence to crank training up to nine thousand, Yang was more exhausted than ever. All she wanted to do right now was go home, take the coldest of showers and sleep forever. And usually, she’d do just that; Ruby would be waiting for her by bumblebee and Yang would drive them home in about ten minutes.

Today, however, her little sister seemed to have other plans—plans that apparently involved Blake taking her to meet a stranger after practice was over.

“Not all that surprising,” Blake finished off for her. “I mean, it is Ruby.”

“Good point, but she could’ve just asked me to stay behind after practice.” Yang said, as she crossed her arms and laid a hand on her chin.

Blake shrugged and pushed open the library doors.

Yang sighed, trying not to let her mood bleed into her words and tone. Blake was obviously as tired and as out of the loop as she was at this point. She wasn’t the kind of person to just drag Yang across campus, sweaty soccer jersey, shorts and all, for an unimportant reason. Maybe she’d seen how eager Ruby had been and known that the younger Xiao Long-Rose would be extremely disappointed if Yang didn’t show up.

And if there’s anything Yang would never allow herself to do, exhausted or not, it was disappoint her little sister, even by mistake.

“Have you met them?” Yang asked, the thought crossing her mind as she wondered just how important this friend was.

Blake gave her a small smirk, “If it’s who I think it is, then yeah. She’s...cool. I think you’ll like her.”

Yang’s eyes widened in wonder and she walked up close behind Blake in curiosity. “Does she play sports?”

“I’m not your personal spy, Yang.” Blake replied, as her expression become more deadpan, “Ask her.”

Yang clicked her tongue, glaring at the faunus. “You’re so mean…” the blonde teased, a playful frown gracing her features.

“I try.”

Yang was just about to reply when she saw a familiar red hood at a table in the corner. Ruby's friend was nowhere in sight... maybe she was on her way? Or getting something deeper in the library?

She decided that thinking on it would just stress her out even more. Besides, despite everything, Yang couldn't help but grin. Seeing her sister always made her a little bit happier.

“There ya’ are, Rubes! I’ve missed you!” The blonde said, as she jogged over to her sister.

“You two came!” Ruby yelled in excitement as she rushed into Yang’s waiting arms. “I thought she'd be too busy with captain stuff after practice.” Ruby mentioned as she looked over at the cat faunus.

Blake gave her a small, teasing smile. “What captain stuff?"

"I thought we were friends!?” Yang said, breaking away from the hug with a mock gasp.

“I changed my mind after having to drag you all the way here.” Blake replied easily. Yang gave her a small, playful shrug.

Ruby laughed at their banter. "Aww man, Weiss is gonna love you guys!"

Something pricked in Yang's mind. Did she know that name?

"Lemme actually get her," Ruby exclaimed excitedly, turning to the shelves and calling out before Yang could ask exactly who her new friend was and why there was something so familiar about her name. “Weiss!"

A loud huff sounded and Yang's eyes opened in recognition as a white haired girl appeared from behind a bookshelf.

"Ruby, honestly, for the last time-" The girl was interrupted by utter shock.

There were two loud, audible gasps.

“You!” Weiss exclaimed and glared. In seconds she was in Yang's space, close enough that her poking, accusing finger practically punctured the blonde's chest.

“Uh oh...” Blake mumbled and facepalmed.

It took Yang a second to realise what was going on, but when she did, she groaned in frustration. Gods damn it. She just wanted to go home! Now she had to deal with Weiss Schnee, the snotty, rich girl.

There was nothing wrong with her on principle. If anything she was rather intriguing and beautiful, the kind of girl Yang couldn't help herself around. But if her actions in the few instances they'd crossed paths were any indication, she hated Yang with a passion. All because of one tiny, teasing statement.

Ruby gulped, “Do you guys... know each other?”

“Yeah. We bumped into each other one day by accident," Yang put her hands up in mock surrender. "I was trying to be nice by complimenting her, but she just called me dumb jock and hasn't let it go since."

Weiss gaped, “I only called you that because you were flirting with me!”

Yang sighed. This again. “C'mon Schnee, a little flirting never killed anyone," and then, because she really wasn't alert enough to watch herself, Yang cracked a small grin. "Besides, I know you like it."

Weiss narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms and intensifying her glare. "Me!? Like anything that has to do with you?! Please!"

Yang wanted to continue their cycle, but then she remembered Ruby was there. As interesting as provoking the heiress until she eventually stormed away in a cute huff was, her sister would be crushed if they kept this up.

"Look, I was just trying to tell you that I think you have pretty eyes," she said honestly, looking at Blake and Ruby for support. "I mean, it's true, right guys?"

Blake let out a chuckle disguised as a cough and Ruby just blinked confusedly.

There was a redness in Weiss' cheeks that might've made Yang grin in satisfaction if it wasn't for the murderous look that accompanied it. Thankfully, drawing attention to the other two girls watching them fight was enough to reign in any possible attempt of homicide from the heiress.

Instead, she sighed as she uncrossed her arms in defeat. “My... apologies, Xiao Long. I've received multiple compliments with ulterior motives so my old defense mechanism kicked in. Perhaps I was too rash…”

The blonde was tempted to add a patronising 'perhaps?', but Weiss was obviously trying to extend an olive branch here. Genuine or not there was no point in continuing to argue right now, especially with an audience.

Yang grinned, deciding that if this was how they were gonna play it, she might as well enjoy herself with some dramatics. “It’s okay, Ice Queen! I forgive you!” She said as she enveloped the smaller girl in a bear hug.

Weiss squirmed inside Yang’s grasp. “Let me go, you brute!”

Yang laughed at that and let her free. “So we’re good now?” she asked.

“I assume.” Weiss sighed with narrowed eyes, brushing herself off as if to remove the evidence of being in Yang's arms.

Blake cleared her throat. “You two done flirting or...?"

Weiss directed a glare towards the cat faunus whose current deadpan expression revealed a tiny trace of amusement.

"I’m just happy they're friends now!" Ruby, apparently too overjoyed to be confused anymore, cheered and zipped up between the pair. ”This went even better than I thought it would!”

Yang grinned. "So much better! Right Weissy?"

“Ruby, I didn’t know you were friends with Blake?” Weiss asked, ignoring the blonde entirely, though Yang could've sworn her eye was twitching.

"Oh yeah!" Ruby nodded. "We've known Blake since we were kids. Right Blake?"

Blake chuckle-coughed again, but let the moment slide, probably for Weiss' sake. Knowing her, she was racking all this up, preparing an onslaught of subtle teasing for tomorrow. “Mhm. Yang’s my best friend.”

"Best friends, hmm?” Weiss seemed unimpressed.

"Unfortunately, yes."

Yang frowned. "Hey!”

It didn't take long for this to become their regular dynamic - Blake enjoying herself as Yang teased Weiss, and Ruby trying, and failing, to act as mediator between the two. But after a while, it became less out of irritation and anger. They enjoyed spending time with each other and, in a group, it was so much easier to play off their differences than bond over their similarities.

And, surprisingly, they actually had quite a bit in common. This fact became more apparent when Yang realised that they had over half of the same classes together. She insisted to 'help the new girl' by becoming her partner in practically every activity. Originally it had been just to get a rise out of her, but then they learned more about each other and, though Weiss would never admit out loud, they grew closer.

Now, it wasn't uncommon for the blonde to sneak the heiress a wink whenever they caught eyes in the middle of Port's lecture's causing the heiress to blush and narrow her eyes dangerously. Weiss would always reprimand her with a loud whisper, but there was no bite anymore, maybe something else?

Yang blinked at the whiteboard ahead. Professor Peach had never exactly been interesting, and Weiss wasn't in this class with her. Really, all she could do to stay awake was countdown the seconds until she could see the heiress in history later.

If only Weiss was in all her classes. The heiress was smart enough that she didn't need to pay attention to Peach, she probably knew half the syllabus already. Then the blonde could finally finish their conversation from lunch by telling her the big news.

After a whole two months of asking, her dad finally allowed her to get a tattoo!

The blonde smiled giddily as she nudged her sister who was absent mindedly doodling something in her textbook.

“Ruby, it's tomorrow!” The blonde soccer player said in excitement.

Ruby looked up at her sister. “Do I get to come with?”

“Well, yeah. I’m going to try to bring Blake with us but that means I’m going to have to convince Coach Goodwitch to let her... she's already pissed at me skipping practice for the appointment,” Yang said, cringing at the memory of Goodwitch's glare.

Ruby uncharacteristically smirked as she turned back to her drawing, “I’m surprised you didn’t ask Weiss…” she mumbled.

Yang raised an eyebrow, the thought had crossed her mind but... oh not Ruby too. As if Blake wasn't bad enough.

"You guys are really terrible, y'know that?”

"Yup!"

The night before the big chemistry test, Weiss Schnee was in excruciating pain. Her textbooks and study guides where uncharacteristically scattered all over her bed and floor, but she couldn't care less as she writhed on her stomach. The feeling on her back had been almost negligible, a tiny sharp pain that soon turned into a stinging, overwhelming pain that she suspected wouldn't subside for a good couple hours.

“Winter!” Weiss called, as she smacked her face back into her pillow.

She didn't know what she did to the gods for her to receive such terrible pain. It's not like she fell or hurt her head during the previous night... did she? If so, wouldn’t other parts of her body be in pain to?. It was only the top layer of her back, more specifically, the skin, that was in pain.

Weiss didn’t know, could barely even think rationally at the moment since her back burned more. For sure she was going to kill anyone if they were the causes of her soon to be death.

A couple seconds later, Winter came barging in her room, more medicine in her hands. “This is all I could find at the moment. Father ordered attention from professional doctors in Vale to come here immediately. They will be here shortly, Weiss.”

When Weiss looked up, she saw the deep frown on her sister's face, a rare portrayal of emotion she might've appreciated more if she could concentrate on anything but the pain.

Winter sat near the edge of the bed and folded her hands in her lap. “I’m still very curious as to why only your back is hurting all of a sudden?” She asked sullenly.

Weiss sighed before answering through gritted teeth. “I do not know. I was in the middle of studying for a test and a stinging pain hit my back. It hasn’t stopped ever since.”

"Odd," Winter hummed with a suspicious lilt in her voice. "Have you done anything... questionable lately?”

Weiss looked up in slight shock. What was Winter implying exactly? Because attending Beacon was something "questionable" all on it's own. For the first time, she made friends. For the first time, she didn't dread waking up and going to school. But even then, she was always home on time, always stayed top of her classes and accomplished all of her homework assignments as soon as she got them. She never gave her friends the chance to influence her into anything she wouldn't regularly do, despite how... attractive and inviting the prospect of certain adventures could be. In fact the only questionable thing that came to mind...

She groaned as the pain trailed lower. Now really wasn't the time to be thinking about that particular blonde haired annoyance. "No...besides studying and going through study guides with Ruby after school.”

Winter raised a brow. Knowing Weiss' competitive nature, that counted as a strange action, but it surely wasn't the answer she was looking for. Or even the most honest answer the younger Schnee could've given.

For a moment there was an awkward silence, then Weiss suddenly gasped in excitement.

Winter’s eyes widened in horror, thinking something terribly wrong had happened. “What?! What’s wrong? Are you still hurt?” She asked as she hastily jumped off the bed and in front of Weiss in a second.

“My back stopped hurting!” Weiss smiled, “The medicine worked, Winter!”

Sighing in relief, Winter placed a hand over her heart. “You scared me half to death, Weiss.”

“My apologies...” Weiss awkwardly stated. They were close, close enough that she wanted to tell Winter everything. Unfortunately, they created an unspoken rule: she was never allowed to mess up or show her emotions when talking to Winter. As upset as it made her, it would be unwise for either of them to slip up or be overly sisterly. Weiss knew Father would not approve.

If only they could be like Ruby and Yang, the two sisters were inseparably close. Speaking of the blonde, Yang had-

Realizing, Weiss stopped herself before her thoughts took control of her. Argh, come on Weiss. stop thinking about her for one second, she thought as she quickly made her way across her bedroom. She buried her face in her pajama drawer, rummaging through for a pair and prayed Winter wouldn't see her growing blush.

In one swift motion, the heiress shimmied out off her white bolero jacket and the top part of her dress when she heard Winter gasp.

“Oh gods...Weiss! What is that?!” She heard the older girl exclaim and speed walk towards her, the soft tone from earlier now accusing and demanding.

“What is what?!" Winter couldn't have seen her flushed face...her back was turned! As embarrassing as it already was, Weiss couldn’t think of a reason why she could find out...right?

Was there something else?

Then she remembered that they were in Vale.

"Is there a spider on me?!” Weiss screeched as she rapidly tried to turn her head towards the back of her. Her skin instinctively twitching and crawled, afraid that a terrible eight-legged gremlin was slowly eating her alive.

“No! You have a tattoo!” Winter said ange and disbelief, like Weiss' spider theory was the most ridiculous misdirect she'd ever heard.

Weiss stopped her twitching and gave Winter an incredulous look. “Pardon?!”

“You have a dragon tattoo on your back!” The older Schnee repeated again.

The heiress, completely confused by the current escalation of events, quickly faced her back to the mirror. And indeed, there was a black tribal dragon tattoo engulfing most of the white-haired girl’s back.

“What in the actual...” Thankfully Weiss' muscle memory stopped her short of releasing a tirade of curses. “Where did I get this?!”

Winter gave her little sister a defiant look. “Weiss Schnee, you can’t just tell me you don’t know why there’s a tattoo on your back! A tattoo? Really, Weiss!?” Winter exclaimed, at this point she threw her arms in the air.

The younger Schnee girl was in complete shock. She tried to remember everything she’d done in the past week, but nothing this ludicrous came to mind. Did she hit her head at school or maybe someone spiked her drink… and somehow she decided to get a tattoo? None of it seemed real...

“Winter, I’m being serious! I don’t know how I got this tattoo!” Weiss reasoned. Did Winter really not believe her?

That’s when Weiss saw something in Winter’s mind clicked. And she noticed Winter’s eyes sparkled with recognition.

The elder Schnee walked up behind Weiss and briskly touched her sister’s now tarnished skin.

“The red string of fate...” Winter whispered.

Weiss blinked, even more confused. “The what?”

This time Winter walked back in front of a bewildered Weiss and smiled. Weiss blinked in confusion.

“The red string of fate! Weiss! You have a soulmate!” Winter exclaimed happily.

“I have a what?!” Weiss repeated. So much had happened in the span of a few minutes she could barely comprehend what her sister was going on about. “Winter, your scaring me...”

Sighing, the elder Schnee guided Weiss to the edge of the bed as both girls sat. “Have you ever heard of those legends and myths where two people are bound or destined to be together forever?”

Weiss had to ponder for a moment, “In a way yes...but this doesn’t explain about why I have a dragon tattoo on my back...”

Winter gave Weiss a look that told her to be quiet until she was done. “The red string of fate can be all types of different things to bring these destined people together. For example, the same exact birthmarks or even timers on the wrist will tell you when your gonna meet your soulmate.”

Weiss hummed, “I’m listening...”

Finally getting to her point, a small smile found its way to Winter's face and she crossed her arms, “There’s also a myth that the red string of fate connecting soulmates’ pain with one another.”

There was a pause as Weiss processed this information. Sure, she'd heard all the stories but honestly this was so crazy, too impossible to be true. Still, if Winter, the most logical and smartest person Weiss knew believed it...

“Are you saying," Weiss started, needing clarification. "That I got this tattoo and experienced all this because my apparent ‘soulmate’ originally got it as well?”

Winter nodded in affirmation. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

At this point, the heiress didn’t know for sure if she was dreaming or not.

She shook her head in defiance and asked, “how does it even work anyways?”

Winter shrugged. “The red string of fate is...I’d say...temperamental? It automatically decides when it wants to take place. So, this means you may or may not have met your soulmate yet. Sometimes it only activates after you meet your soulmate but then again, it may happen before you meet them in order for different combinations to work.”

“So I may or may not have met them already?” Weiss narrowed her eyes in concentration and thought.

Winter nodded, “Depends on if you met anyone new recently or something may have happened to trigger it.”

Weiss’ thoughts immediately traced back to the one person she'd desperately been trying to keep out of her thoughts.

Yang? Her chest filled with warmth at the thought.

Yang, her soulmate? That was too good to be true. No, that was impossible. Yang was... Yang. She was on the other side of the spectrum of Weiss' realm of possibilities and the living. Not that the blonde was poor, just personality-wise and raising. From this, the warmth from earlier was now replaced with a hollow emptiness. They couldn't be destined for each other, they were polar opposites. True, there were many moments both girls shared with each other concerning school, life and other things lately. Or so when the blonde would glance at her or say her name and she'd see... something in those lilac eyes, but that was all wishful thinking. To Yang, Weiss was nothing more than her sister's friend and school partner.

Besides, if all this was true, Winter mentioned that she could be yet to meet her soulmate... meaning that it could be literally anyone and not Yang.

Something about that felt very wrong.

“Do you think it may be this Ruby?”

Weiss’ eyes widened in shock. “Oh gods, no! She’s just...a friend of mine. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Well, did you meet anyone else recently?” Winter asked again. Weiss didn’t know why but Winter always seemed to know what was going on.

“I... I can't think of anyone,” Weiss tried but her blush resurfaced with revenge.

Winter could tell Weiss was hiding something, of course she could. It was written all over the heiress' face. But, Weiss really hoped Winter wouldn't push it. Telling Winter about Yang...

Deciding not tell her off right away, Winter decided to ask a bit more. “Oh really? Is that all?”

Weiss sighed, realizing there was no way around it. The matter was obviously extremely important to her older sister. “Well, there is Ruby's older sister.”

Winter’s face lit up with interest. “Oh?”

“Yes, her name’s Yang, she’s on Beacon High’s Varsity girls soccer team and I think she’s one of the captains. She’s blonde, tall, muscular, lilac eyes...” Weiss got so caught up in thinking about her she didn't even realise she was rambling.

“I always knew you were into girls.” Winter was actually smirking. Weiss gaped.

“I am not!”

Winter rolled her eyes. “Then explain all the times when you completely disregarded all the boys father threw your way?”

Weiss didn’t say anything for a solid minute and finally sighed in defeat. “I maybe...I’m not sure." A pause. "What are you implying, Winter?” The heiress added, as she gave a small glare towards her older sister.

Winter's out of character smirk grew. "Don’t you think this girl...”

“Her name is Yang...” Weiss interrupted.

“...could be your soulmate?”

Weiss cringed as the thought crossed her mind again. It wasn't happening. It couldn't happen.

"No," she answered slowly, hating the reality behind the word.

If Weiss was being honest with herself, she wanted it more than anything. The blonde was extremely attractive and wasn't the typical jock-girl stereotype. She was admirably sweet and considerate but also prideful, and so obnoxious with her insufferable puns... but Weiss quickly learned to love all of her, even her flaws.

Winter shrugged, “Whatever you say, dear sister.”

Before Weiss could respond a loud gruffy voice called from the bottom floor.

It was their father.

“It must be Father telling us the doctors are here. I’ll go tell them that the medicine I gave you worked and that you fell asleep in peace.” Winter said, her hard, serious tone leaking through again. She got up and was heading for the door.

As Weiss tried to gather her emotional bearings another thought crossed her.

"Winter,” She said, right when the older Schnee was about to close the door.

“Yes, sister?”

“How do you know so much about the red string of fate?”

Winter allowed a genuine smile to settle on her face. “Let’s just say I was in your place once.”

And then she closed the door behind her.

Weiss was pleasantly surprised when she realized she quite enjoyed soccer matches. Something about the competition in the air sang to her, mingling and mixing with the scent of cut grass and the excitement of dozens of students. Her own competitive spirit made it ten times more enjoyable. As unconventional and downright odd Beacon Academy was she’d be damned if she didn’t come ready to glare at the referee when he called anything she disagreed with, or clench her fist hopefully at the chance of a goal.

There was also another blonde haired factor. Watching Yang on the pitch was so intoxicating she couldn’t take her eyes away. She played with so much passion, and it was so evident how much fun she was having, even when they were losing.

And when they won she’d smile and her face would light up and…

Weiss breathed out slightly shakily. This match was different. No time to get caught up in the euphoria of it all, she had to focus, because if she didn’t, she’d miss her chance at finding out the truth.

She blushed at the thought. Actively hoping that Goodwitch was looking away so Yang and Nora could carry on their winning tradition was not something she hadn’t done before. But those times she looked away as soon as she saw skin, far too embarrassed in herself to spare another glance.

They’d won the qualifiers against Haven and Goodwitch was nowhere in sight. Honestly this was so frustrating… and they were switching jerseys!

Weiss stared.

Not because Yang was stretching and she could easily see the muscles in her back taut and relax. Not because a tiny voice in her head told her that she liked this sight a bit too much and that she should get as much as possible before Nora’s jersey obscured her view.

No.

On Yang’s back was the very same black tribal dragon tattoo that Weiss had right that very second…

No. Why would Yang not tell her about getting a tattoo?

But there it was, identical to hers in every single way.

Weiss barely felt herself stand up and follow Ruby down the bleachers to go congratulate the team.

Soulmates. Yang and Weiss were soulmates, bound together by a tall tale the heiress had only heard last night.

This wasn’t possible. This couldn’t be happening.

They were… friends? No, that wasn’t it. Weiss had never felt this close to anyone, not even Ruby, who was her best friend.

Soulmates? She liked Yang, she liked her so much that she sometimes couldn’t understand how it was possible. But the odds of the blonde returning her feelings were nonexistent.

Why her? For the longest time the heiress was nothing to Yang but just that, a proud, self entitled heiress. They’d gotten past their facades together, learned more about each other-

“...I’m proud of us girls!” Pyrrha’s voice broke through her thoughts. “See you all in Vacuo!”

The team cheered and, with the meeting over all started to head for the showers.

The first thing Yang did when the formation broke was head for Ruby and Weiss.

As soon as Yang met eyes with the heiress, the blonde grinned and wrapped her arms around her.

Weiss wished she felt the need to squirm, she really did, but despite all the heat coming off Yang and all the sweat, she felt like she belonged there... and then remembered her recent discovery...

Yang buried her face into Weiss’ neck. “I’m so happy you made it, Weiss.” She whispered.

Yang had always been a very affectionate person and adrenaline never failed to make that even more clear. Weiss wanted to place her arms around the blonde’s neck and snuggle into her shoulder, but they had to figure this out first. So, she did what she'd usually do - pretended she didn't like it.

"Get off me, you smelly brute."

Yang grinned but pulled away. "Hehe... sorry. It's just that we won!"

"I know, I saw," Weiss rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help the smile that crept on her face. "You were pretty good out there."

Yang's grin morphed into an elated smile that was honestly the most beautiful thing Weiss had seen. "Pretty good, huh? Thanks princess, I'm glad you enjoy my performance." The blonde winked.

Weiss gave Yang a look, but the smile on her face and the blush in her cheeks only made the blonde laugh.

“Aren't you adorable.” Then, as if finally remembering Ruby was there, she engulfed her little sister in a hug as well, spinning her around and laughing happily.

Weiss frowned. Oh gods, Yang was just so amazing. And now she was her soulmate? Was that even possible?

And as scared as she was, she wanted it be. It was time to she stopped hiding behind their friendship and finally address the elephant in the room. They needed to talk.

The heiress was about to ask Yang to hang back for a minute, but the blonde had already put her sister down and said a quick "Talk to you later, Ice Queen!” before heading off to the showers.

She watched Yang literally bounce off with Nora, the two so high from their win the only reason they could walk straight was Blake, stoically leading the way.

Weiss found herself rooted in her spot. There was always a possibility that this was just... something, something else. It felt real but... what if this whole soulmates thing was just some lie created to explain an impossible coincidence? What if all this was just some sort of lucid dream that she'd wake up from as soon she even tried to pursue her apparent fate?

"Weiss?" Ruby's voice broke her musings. "You ok?"

The heiress looked at her friend for a moment, barely even registering her concerned expression.

Ruby Rose, against all odds, not only befriended her but introduced her to an amazing group of friends and was the reason she got to know Yang, all out of sheer force of will. Knowing how awkward she was, it was a miracle the younger girl had pulled it off.

She'd probably been a little nervous too, but she sucked it up and never looked back.

That's exactly what Weiss needed to do.

She nodded in response. "Yes. I'm fine. I actually need to take care of something, excuse me."

Weiss headed for the showers, not waiting for Ruby's response.

If this was a dream then fine, she'd wake up and everything would be as if nothing happened. If this wasn't meant to be, she'd be heart broken, but at least then she wouldn't have to bury her feelings anymore. And if they really were soulmates... she was ready.

The showers weren't far off and thankfully the noise of the team chatting lead Weiss to exactly where she needed to be.

She knocked on the door, standing up straighter to steel herself for what came next.

By some stroke of luck, Blake opened the door and raised a brow slightly in question.

"I need to talk to Yang," was all Weiss said, and for the second time since they became friends, the heiress saw Blake grin, a full sincere smile.

The cat faunus nodded and turned back into the changing room. "Yang, get out here, it's important!" She looked back to Weiss, her face free of teasing and entirely serious. "Good luck."

Weiss narrowed her eyes slightly. Of course Blake would know, she was Blake. And maybe her attitude meant that the heiress had a chance? Still that didn't take away the feeling of fear churning in her gut.

"Thanks."

There was some commotion behind the door, some laughter and then Yang's head popped out over Blake's shoulder.

"Oh, Weiss, what's up? You missed me?" She teased. "I was just starting to shower, you can hop in and join me if you needed to see me that badly."

The heiress fought to ignore the heat building up in her cheeks, blue meeting lavender with a serious glare. "We need to talk."

Yang's grin fell away immediately, giving way to a worried frown. "Umm, alright, sure," she said, shuffling past Blake. "C'mon.”

The blonde grabbed her hand gently and led them to a free changing room, closing the door behind her.

"Is everything ok? Did I do somethi-" she started, then realised she was still holding Weiss' hand. She let it go like she'd been burned. "Shit, umm, sorry about that."

Weiss sighed. "It's fine. I..."

"I just forgot. No touching, only hugs, maybe, if the moment calls for it-" Yang rambled, her worry evident in her features.

"Yang," Weiss interrupted.

"Yeah?"

"Just be quiet and let me speak."

The blonde opened her mouth to say something, but then remembered the heiress' instructions and stayed silent.

"Good,” Weiss started, as she looked up into Yang’s eyes. "I would like to tell you something."

Yang nodded and gave her signature, wide grin that made Weiss' resolve falter. This girl was so perfect and beautiful, this was impossible.

She sighed again. Now or never...

“Have you… ever heard of the red string of fate?”

Yang gave her a funny look. “Huh? What’s that?”

"Idiotic goof," Weiss said, though she couldn’t control the small smile that touched her lips.

Only Yang could look so amazing and so goofy at the same time, with her slightly wet hair sticking to her face and that adorable expression she got everytime she was confused. That was enough to give Weiss the confidence to take Yang’s calloused hands in hers.

“How about this...what would you say if…” A pause. “I said we were destined to be soulmates?”

“Say what now?”

Weiss groaned, now realizing how hard it is to actually express the red string of fate and what it was. Weiss knew only one other way to show her.

This was ridiculous! But at this point, Weiss just wanted to be done with it all. So, the heiress let go off the blonde's hands and quickly pulled her top over her head in one swift motion.

Yang’s eyes went wide and, for a quick moment, those lilac eyes seemed unable to look away. Then Yang shook her head as if to bring herself back to the present, looking straight down. "What are you…”

"Just look." Weiss said, turning her back to the blonde, "Please."

Yang bit her lip nervously and looked up, her eyes meeting the exact replica of her dragon tattoo.

Then, complete silence.

Weiss cleared her throat. She'd never been so mortified in her life. But they were already so far down this confusing path, might as well just keep going.

“The red string of fate says that one of the signs is connected pain and markings. I wasn’t positive that it was you until tonight.” Weiss explained slowly, not once looking back to see the blonde's reaction. "Once I saw your tattoo during the game...I just knew.” The heiress added.

The silence on Yang's end was suffocating. Of course the blonde didn't believe her. This was so weird and out of the blue. Weiss was, in essence, implying they were meant to be together for the rest of their lives. And that in itself was so assuming and self centered. What if Yang had no interest in her?

This was a bad idea. Of course Yang didn't reciprocate. Of course Yang thought she was crazy, she was starting to believe so herself.

She was just about to turn around and apologise for even bringing the issue up, but then soft, gentle fingers were on her back, tracing the outline of her tattoo.

“Yang?” Weiss asked, completely confused and nervous.

Was Yang trying to test the authenticity of the marking? Was she so in shock that she couldn't believe it was real? Or maybe-

Before Weiss could process what was going on, the blonde spun her around, leaned in and kissed her.

She was completely frozen for a moment, but then the heat in her gut burned brighter than ever, melting her from the inside. And soon she was kissing back, with absolutely no idea if she was doing it right or what any of this all meant. All she could focus on were the soft lips on hers and the firm arms wrapped around her waist.

The heiress allowed herself to give into instinct, pressing ever closer to the blonde and clinging onto her slightly damp jersey. Yang seemed to like this, because soon they were against the wall and she was groaning.

Weiss let out a small squeal from surprise and that was all it took for the moment of bliss to stop.

“I-I’m sorry Weiss. I—“ The blonde distanced herself even faster than she had let go off the heiress' hand earlier.

Weiss rolled her eyes and got in closer, gripping onto Yang's jersey and pulling her in. "I told you to keep quiet."

And then their lips were connected again, this time more ferocious and heated. Yang's gentleness from before was cancelled out by the urgency in the heiress' movements. She needed to let the blonde know somehow, how much this meant to her, how much she hoped that this kiss was confirmation.

And even if it wasn't, even if they weren't actually destined by the gods, she didn't care. This felt right. This was right.

All that mattered was the brilliant and gorgeous girl in front of her.

But then Yang was pulling away and she panicked. This couldn't be it. They didn't have to stop.

"Weiss, you're half naked," Yang said as if only just realising it, stepping away again.

"Oh?" It took Weiss a minute, then her eyes widened. "Oh my gods," she turned around and blushed madly.

Ohhh, this can not be happening right now...

Yang outstretched her arm, holding out the shirt she'd picked off the floor and looking down again.

“Oh shit! I-I’m sorry, Weiss," she rambled again. "I was too caught up with the fate, tattoo, soulmate thing. I have all these undeniable feelings for you and just-“

Weiss ripped the shirt out of her hands and quickly threw it on. "Yang, shut up... it's ok. It's fine."

It wasn't really fine though, because she'd just kissed her soulmate for the first time, in a changing room, with her shirt off and she really wanted to do it again.

Yang cracked a grin. “Cause you liked it?”

The heiress rolled her eyes again. Trust Yang to go from thoughtful and respectful to flirtatious and teasing in a second. "Talk like that and it's never happening again."

"Hehe, nah, I know you can't resist Weissy."

Weiss sighed, looking away slightly. It was so annoyingly true and, although she was glad, she didn’t want to encourage Yang’s teasing. But, there was still the fact that she really couldn’t help herself.

"I can't," she replied honestly. "I have undeniable feelings for you too.”

Yang's demeanor changed again and she grabbed Weiss hand, unafraid this time.

“Does that make us…?” she asked, not sure if she should say it or have Weiss do it.

“Girlfriends?” Weiss finished for her.

Was it really that easy? Were they really together? Soulmates?

The heiress almost said no, but Yang's excited smile told her that they were, and that they would be for as long as they had each other.

Weiss nodded. "I suppose so."

And in a matter of seconds, Yang had her trapped in a bone crushing bear hug. "Well in that case, come to nationals with me." She said. “It’s gonna be held in Vacuo next weekend and we're allowed to bring a guest. I really wanted you to ask you before so I’m hoping that now—“

“Yes. I’ll go with you.” Weiss interrupted, but realising she sounded far too eager she added, “of course that’ll depend on if I have no prior engagements.”

Yang laughed. She could probably read through the heiress completely. “Oh, you agreed that quickly huh? Shame, I thought it’d take some more convincing…”

Her tone sounded almost promising and Weiss’ blush returned in full force at the implications.

“Are you seriously going to keep this up?” The heiress questioned as Yang pulled away.

“Umm, yeah. Cause I know you secretly love it.”

Weiss practically growled, because the blonde was right. First Blake, now Yang? Was she really that easy to read?

A change of subject was in order. “What about Ruby?”

“Oh you mean for nationals?” Yang smiled at her girlfriend knowingly. “Blake’s got that covered.”

#freezerburn #freezerburnweek #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #teamlittledragon #freezerburnweek2018 #soulmate au

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