#i just wanted to draw him happy but unconsciously made his body language look tense so here we are

[ghostlylicious]

free and anxious

(press for better quality💔)

[secretbangtnn]

Best Of Me | One

Pairings : →ot7 x reader, poly!BTS x reader

Genre : → vampireau, yandere!au, age gap, gore, obsessive behavior, ddlg/caregiver, poly, fantasy, supernaturals

summary : It’s quite unusual to find a little baby on your doorstep, especially that their area was not of the poorest - you could say that a vampire town was efficient with money and snobby creatures. However over time the first idea of just giving back the little girl seems more and more radical and those moody vampires slowly start perceiving deeper feelings to human they even wanted to kill.

notes ~

So im not really as happy as i wanted to be with this chapter, but its the first one that i needed to translate. Suprisingly Its easier for me to write the whole thing myslef than translating it from my native language. + Remember to leave something and im happy to say that we can start an ask game with the characters from my books

next

Surprisingly this day was awfully ugly for such a beautiful season. Heavy rain was falling on the ground creating the big sheets of wall with those millions droplets that practically covered the whole view outside of the freshly cleaned window.

Tired sigh pierced the quiet, as for the household members, house only causing the weird tension to increase that was there from the early morning. Dark hair of the boy moved with him, now facing the cold, wet window.

Hyung…” Groaned the boy crashing on the couch closing the eyes in the process a little frustrated. Walking just next to him, a little taller man with bright yellow hair, looked at the dark haired one with a tired stare.

“I don’t have time Jungkook, go torture Yoongi or something.” A snort came out of the older one after the not so innocent proposition, as he kept carrying the big basket full of clothes.

And again he was alone. The youngest of the brothers, being the one who never knew what to do with his free time, wandering in the halls and every couch he could spot in their cosy house. His dark chocolate hair falling on his face, a little too long for his liking, but he was too lazy to actually do something with them.

Again that not happy groan left his lips, and wriggling similar to a child that did not get a toy he wanted, in the end forcing him to sit on the couch with a big pout. It was not normal in this household, the whole quiet and calm act, especially considering the residents he shared the home with.

They are more similar to animals than gentelems that appreciate a quiet time. So the weird atmosphere was definitely an unsettling thing for the youngest.

Again looking at the dark view outside the window, he tried to see the cause of all of this. Completely as if something was meant to happen, like the quiet before the storm.

And let me tell you, Jungkooks 6th sense never fails. Just as he thought that maybe just maybe this time he was wrong, a ring echoed in the whole household.

“Someone is gonna open it?!” He shouted being too irritated to even do it himself, despite being the closest to the doors.

Of course, nobody answered. So angry he was at this moment he got up from a nice cozy couch and with heavy steps he came to the big chunk of the wood.

He opened the door not that gently, mumbling an annoyed “what?”

So how irritated he got when he saw nothing, a void, the same doorstep and gate that stood there everyday, now with a big wall of rain to spice up the view. He looked around, now a little confused, while thinking that maybe someone was in the mood for jokes. But how stupid the idea of that was when he remebered, that for his hundreds years of living in this world the first time that actually someone managed to make fun of him was today.

And oh god he started to get so pissed.

So imagine how shocked he was when just before he closed the door he heard a really unusual sound coming from his feets. Unhappy sobs rang in the quiet afternoon immediately attracting his attention.

The young vampire was more than shocked, looking at the child in the pille of pastel colored blankets. Small sobs now increased in a big crocodile's tears with disturbing sounds of the kids crying.

“”No, no, no, please be quiet, we don’t want to wake up the old, ugly, moody grandpa. do we?” He panicked, whispering the words to the child that now laid in his arms. He just prayed that the actual old vampire really didn't take up because of the cries.

As the kid started to calm down, he stared at it with an unreadable emotion. It was a weird feeling, holding the delicate creature in his arm, knowing that just one wrong move, and the child would never cry again.

So what was that feeling that stirred down his stomach as the little creature grabbed his finger with a big open mouth. The sick emotion only made him panic even more, while looking back inside the house.

He decidied,. Sneaking was nothing new for his ninja move, and he strongly believed in his skills of not getting caught with a surprise in his arms. In the end the spiderman socks were a good choice, as their soft material made nearly no sound on the floor.

His stress level went higher with each step that brought him closer to the room that he knew he could not miss. The sound of a knife and cutting rung in his ears is similar to the music in horror music he likes to watch, now making him understand a feeling of pure fear.

Eyes closed while praying that the blonde man won’t turn around catching him in his act. But how wrong he was to believe in such a miracle. Nothing and absolutely gets past Kim Seokjin.

“Jeon Jungkook…” He died, completely freezing in place. Not opening his eyes he waited thinking that maybe it was just his head messing with him, and the blonde boy never actually turned to him. “What have you done again. If I need to clean the mess once again from the ketchup, I'm not going to…”

And as Jungkook thought that nothing can go worse, the little chil laughed a happy giggle while making the grabby hands for his bracelet.

“Jungkook?...What exactly are you holding?” The question like a knife cutted the heavy atmosphere in half. The silence just after that louder than everything he has heard before. He was even sure that he felt his nonexisting heart stopping. “Did you fucking steall a child?! I can’t be…”

“No! It’s not like that I swear I found it on our doorstep.”

“Do you really think think I am that stupid? How even the child could just appear there hm? Rolled there or better flyed on its plush unicorn?”

“Hyung, please you are going to wake up others.” He didn’t even hesitate to beg, looking at the blonde with such terrified eyes. The child in his arms happily munching on his bracelet completely unaware of the tension.

“Why would I care about others! You brought a child Jungkook, how can i be calm!?”

Dark haired unconsciously looked around with gritted teeth, now just waiting for the rest to appear. And he did not need to wait long, as just after he looked back at the blonde, someone came from the other side of the kitchen door.

Tall man with peachy hair and raspy voice, trying to get rid of the rest of his sleep, now scratching his head with confused expressions. Who wouldn’t be confused in this place, seeing a literal child in a house full of old vampires.

“What is this mess all about? You know what hour it is?” Said the tallest one. Blondie one only snorted as if offended while crossing his arms. “What?”

“Nothing.” Oldest mumbled irritated. The tallest only raised his brow, and repeated the question once again. Jungkook being now forgotten with the child trying to catch his attention with little sounds. “You dare to remind me of the hour?! Do you know how many nights I didn’t sleep because of you! If I just could silence you for good, you would have long ago ended like the voldemort, yes i'm talking about that nose of yours”

The taller one immediately touched his nose gasping not believing in what he just heard, now trying to silently disappear from the harash stare of his older brother.

As the peach hired one hid behind a counter, the attention now came back to the snaking Jungkook. More pairs of footsteps rang in the quietness of the home, slowly showing other people.

“Jin-hyung is angry again? What happened I want to see.” Announced the newcomer, sliding on his perfectly white socks.

“Who is angry here?! You want to see how angry I can be you...you…”

“You silly goose?”

“No that's to lame.”

“Dipshit?”

“You dipshit! Thank you Namjoon.” He finished with a red face. The newcomer only rolled his eyes, while making the shortest of the brothers that came with him laugh.

“Since everyone is here…” The tallest started.

“Wait, where is Yoongi.” Asked the red haired one, while leaning on the counter with a mysteriously made coffee.

“Here.” All of them shouted, hearing the sudden voice, and seeing the new person that appeared with a lightning of thunder. “So what’s this mess about?”

Everyone in the room simultaneously looked at the dark haired boy that immediately stopped in his tracks hoping for some power that could help him disappear. All the eyes slowly drifted down his arms, now staring at a bundle of blankets that started to move as if it knew of the attention.

“What is that?” Asked the tallest looking straight at the irritated blonde.

“Don’t ask me, I’m not the one that gives such a stupid example, making those idiots steal children.”

The kitchen is now again quiet, all the eyes on the little creature in the arms of the youngest. Only sound now being the child starting to sob again, making everyone tense.

“Shut it up you morons.” Said second oldest, annoyed at the loud cries. The blonde didn’t waste time, knowing how bad noise is for the black haired. Small body now shuddering because of the sobbing making the oldest coo at the little child.

His arms soon hold the bundle of blanket, trying to calm the kid down with his baby voice. It wasn’t hard to get lost in its eyes, them being mysterious and full of innocence, drawing up the blonde one. His big hand now on its red cheek, trying to feel the texture of the soft skin under his fingers.

And as the cries never happened, the child started giggling again trying to grab Seokjin hands with such a beautiful smile. It was a really soft sight to see making them all calm and giddy inside. But as the child opened its mouth Seokjin's smiles disappeared.

“What the matter?” Asked Namjoon a little bit taken aback by the change of his hyungs mood. The oldest only looked back at the rest of them with a terrified expression.

“It's a human.”

[yourgalaxy]

~FINDING HOME~ (Part 4)

Pairing: Taehyung x female O/C

Genre: Fluffyest Fluffy Fluff, a little bit of angst if you squint really hard.

Summary: After getting used to the idea of just being her and her little daughter against the world. Autumn is proven wrong once again when fate has different plans for them.

Warnings: None

Word count: 2865 

A/N: The original prompt is from @hybridfanfiction ( their prompts are the cutest, check them out!) This is my first attempt on sharing some of my work and is also my first hybrid fic. I love the reader inserts but not a fan of the Y/N type thing so feel free to just imagine your name instead if you prefer! I have material to make this a series but will leave it as a one shot for now to see if you guys like it! I totally don’t own the gifts.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. Read at your own risk 😂

Extra A/N: I didn’t get the chance to post this last week but to compensate you guys, I’ll be posting the first part of my new Mafia Au, so watch out for it!

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5

‘’ Hey, Tae’’ - Autumn came out to the back balcony where Taehyung had gone for a sunbathe after dropping Haneul off at the school. - I realize how boring it can be to stay at home for so long every day, so I was wondering if you would like to come to work with me? - The way his eyes light up and his tail started to wag was enough of an answer. - ‘’Really?!’’ - He almost fell out of the chair trying to stand when she nodded yes. - "Ok, I'm ready!" - She couldn't suppress her laugh as he took her hand, wide eyed, tail going crazy behind him, he was almost bouncing in place. - 

 ‘’ It wasn’t the plan to introduce you to the boys like this, but it might be for the better, they can get really chaotic when they get all together. Today it will just be Jin and Jimin at the store because it’s Kookie’s day off, so it shouldn’t be too crazy… Are you ok, Tae? - She could only see his profile while driving but he looked pale and really shaken. He shook his head and she decided to pull over to the side. The store was close, and she figured getting there a few minutes late was worth it if it was for Taehyung’s wellbeing. - ‘’ What’s wrong? Are you hurt somewhere?’’ - Her hand grabbed his arm in a comforting manner, unconsciously tracing circles on his skin with her thumb not really aware of the shiver that ran down his body. He cleared his throat, afraid of his voice betraying him. - 

 ‘’ I… I haven’t had many good experiences with males... I’m just a little nervous, I guess. I’m sorry’’ - Her heart went out to the ball of nerves that the boy had become, understanding right away that whatever he had gone through in the past was still very vivid in his mind, a wound that was still open and fresh. She wanted to hunt down whoever hurt him like that, because if there was something, she was sure about after the few days that Taehyung had stayed with them was that he deserved nothing but love, her instinct to put him on her pocket and protect him from the evils of the world kicking in full force. - 

 ‘’ There is nothing to be sorry about, pup. You don’t have to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable. I can promise you, though, that none of my friends would ever do anything to hurt you intentionally, but I can definitely drive you back home if you don't feel ready to meet them’’ - Taehyung felt guilt wash over him. It was more than obvious that whoever these guys were, they were really important people to Autumn and he didn’t want to burden their relationship with his own personal demons. - ‘’ No, it’s ok, I.. I trust you’’ - He assured, taking her hand in his, not letting it go for the rest of the way. - 

 " LOVER BOY!!" - The sudden movement in his peripheral view, took Taehyung by surprise, with so many different flowers everywhere, there were too many scents, and it disoriented him for a second but before he could prepare himself to receive the attack Autumn had put herself in between, receiving the full force of the other boy's collision against her smaller frame with ease, as if she was used to it. The other guy didn't lose time to put his arms around her and pull her closer even though he was whining and complaining that she should have let him say hi to the newbie first. -

 This was not what Taehyung was expecting, his hands tightening into fists, and he had to bite his tongue not to let the growl vibrating on his chest break free. Human males were one thing, but a Hybrid? Why didn't Autumn mention that one of her dear friends was a Hybrid? And for how long would he have to watch them embrace each other?  He decided to clear his throat to catch their attention. Autumn immediately let go of the other boy, a big smile adorning her face as she looked his way. Somehow it eased Taehyung's heart.  

 -"Tae, meet Jimin. Minnie, this is Taehyung" - She introduced them and even when Taehyung tried to keep his distance by bowing politely, Jimin was too excited to let it go like that and soon, ignoring autumn’s warning, was hugging the taller man so tight that Taehyung was afraid he would pass out because his blood wasn't circulating properly. He had never met a feline hybrid so affectionate, if it wasn't for the pointy ears and his scent, he would had guessed that he was indeed a canine hybrid instead. -

  "Jimin, that’s enough bud, you will suffocate the kid’’ - Another person came into the room and this time Taehyung was well aware of the other man and his every move. Jimin finally let go of him with an apologetic smile, and even though he still didn’t trust him, he was way more comfortable with the Hybrid than with the newcomer - ‘’Hey there, my name is SeokJin, but you can call me Jin!’’ - The man extended a hand in Taehyung’s direction. He was a little bit taller than himself but instead of the intimidating aura that Taehyung would expect to come from him, he had a really friendly demeanor and a sweet scent. But Taehyung knew better than to carelessly trust people. He bowed politely murmuring a nice to meet you under his breath. Jin gave Autumn a knowing look and a soft smile when she mouthed an apology. - "Well, Taehyung, welcome to our humble happiness factory!!"

 "Come, Tae, let me show you around, I can teach you how to make an arrangement if you want!" - His Tail was hard to see at the speed it was wagging. Jin and Jimin looked at each other with knowing smiles plastered on their faces - 

 " So, is Jin....Jimin's sponsor? " - Taehyung whispered as he tried to emulate the little arrangement that Autumn had shown him how to make. She couldn't help but laugh a little at his cuteness, he seemed really apprehensive about her friends, but it was obvious that he was also curious even if he tried to act cool- " So Jimin is a citizen. He is Jungkook's adoptive brother, his parents worked on the citizenship as soon as he turned 18."

 " So, he is like... on his own now?" - This was the first time Taehyung met an independent Hybrid in real life and his mind was immediately filled with questions - " Mm, yes and no. He decided to move with Jungkook when he moved to the city around 5 years ago, Jimin doesn't have to live with him but he wants to, so they are roommates now! Which I'm really grateful for, I have been friends with both of them ever since" - 

 The way Autumn explained it made it sound so simple and normal but for Taehyung it was such a wonder. To think that there were hybrids out there that truly had the chance to live their lives in whatever way they wanted, blew his mind. Then he started to think about the fact that Jimin decided to just stay right where he was at, he wondered what he would do if he was in his place, he had imagined it many times before, that one day he would be free and he would travel the world and make friends everywhere, he wouldn't have to worry about anything more than his own happiness but now when he tried to imagine the scenes that gave him so much hope and comfort before, they didn't seem so bright and happy anymore. He wondered if we would really be able to leave Autumn and Haneul behind and move on with his life? 

 No, he couldn't… And the realization scared him.

 "Woah!! Tae, you are a natural!!" -Autumn was too busy admiring the arrangement that he had just finished fixing to notice the way Taehyung was looking at her, the soft smile that draw itself across his lips or the way his eyes were shining with adoration. If they were to let him, Taehyung felt like he would be the happiest if he could just stay with Autumn and Haneul for the rest of his life.

 … 

 Today was the day when it would finally become official. Taehyung was going to be no longer an undocumented stray, no one could mistreat him after today and Autumn couldn't be more relieved and happier about it.

 "Are you ok, Tata?" - Haneul's worried tone alarmed Autumn out of her thoughts. Leaving the dishes for another time, she made her way to the living room, approaching Taehyung's sitting form from behind. A hand immediately finding place on his head, she let her fingers massage the base of his fluffy ears out of habit, because she knows that it always calmed him down to be petted. Taehyung was afraid his heart would come out of his chest at this pace. - "Is anything wrong, puppy?"

 " No, I was just thinking. I'm totally fine!" - He sent both of them the best smile he could muster. Praying that none of them could figure out his real feelings at the moment. He didn't want to worry them- "Tata, you are my favorite friend ever!" - Haneul seemed to feel his distress, nevertheless. She hugged him tightly and it just melted both his and Autumn's hearts. - "Hey little love bug! I thought I was your favorite ever! - The living room soon became a battlefield, a tickling battle full of loud bumming laughs and sweet endeared giggles- 

 Haneul was fast asleep and they were peacefully watching a movie when a knock on the door burst their happy bubble. Taehyung could feel his whole-body tense even before Autumn opened the door, greeting a tall, serious looking man. - Hello! Namjoon, right? Oh, are you ok? - Namjoon went from a professional business looking man to a blushing mess in a second, he had managed to stumble upon thin air and almost fall in the process. Autumn almost cooed at the dimples that appeared with the sheepish smile that he dedicated her way. Taehyung felt like snarling at him. - Hello, Miss Kim, it's a pleasure to finally meet you, Yoongi and Hobi talk a lot about you, haha. - He extended his hand but before she could take it there was a body between them. For a second she wondered if she was imagining it, she had never heard Taehyung growling, but the aggression she could hear in the growl startled her. He didn't even flinch to acknowledge the way she lightly pulled his arm to try to stop him. - " Taehyung! Stop that. Namjoon is our guest!"

 "Oh, don't worry, I actually overstepped his boundaries. It's completely normal for hybrids to want to protect their families from any kind of possible thread, and I'm a complete stranger in his territory. I'm sorry, Taehyung-ssi!" - Namjoon stepped back, giving the anxious hybrid some space. Taehyung visibly relaxed as he did so. - "It's a pleasure to meet you, Taehyung-ssi!

 "Nice to meet you too…" - Taehyung reluctantly responded after Autumn nudged him from behind. - "Well, shall we get into business? " - Taehyung really didn't like Namjoon's smile- 

 " Ah, I see, so the process has different stages, I guess I didn't know that… " - Autumn couldn't hide her excitement, the sponsorship stages were designed to provide the hybrids with gradual freedom until they reached their full independence. 

 With this process, Taehyung would be able to get a job right away, he would get his probational ID by the end of the 1st year and by the end of the second year he would even be able to move on his own, and even though the idea squished her heart in an uncomfortable way, Autumn was really happy with the prospect of giving Taehyung the opportunity to freely live his own life. 

 "What do you think, Tae? Isn't this… Taehyung, what's wrong? Hey, puppy, why are you crying? - Before she could do much, Taehyung dashed out of the scene, closing the door of his from behind him. - " I'm sorry, Namjoon. I think we will have to do this another time..." - He just sent a sad smile her way. - " I hope he is ok, let me know if you would prefer for me to just send the final paperwork through mail, I'll make sure that everything is cleared up so that whenever you decide to sign, it will all be ready." 

 "Thank you so much, Namjoon. I really appreciate it!" - She said bye to him after he assured that he was just doing his work. Once she closed the door, a dread feeling washed over her. She hated seeing the people that she loved having a hard time and in the short time she had known him, the dog hybrid had claimed a place in her heart. She took a deep breath before walking towards Taehyung's room- " Hey pup, can I come in?"... Taehyung, I'm really… I'm really worried, honey boy, can you please let me in?" -

  After a few minutes of dead silence, Autumn was about to give up and just wait until he decided to come out on his own, when the door opened, and she was engulfed by a taller form. Taehyung was sobbing on her shoulder, trying to calm himself down by subtly breathing in her scent. She dragged herself and the boy to sit on the ground, giving him the opportunity to cuddle closer to her. She quietly petted his ears and traced random forms on his back, waiting for him to calm down. 

 After a while she unconsciously started humming a song that he didn't recognize, a song that she sang to Haneul every time she had a nightmare or was scared about something, and at that moment, with her warmth surrounding him and her sweet voice filling the silence that threatened with driving him crazy, Taehyung felt at home for the first time in his life. He felt safe and wanted, he felt like he belonged…

 " I'm not really sure about what happened, but I just want you to know that you are not alone anymore Taehyung. You are part of this family and whatever life throws at you from now on, we face it together, there is no other way around...You don't have to tell me if you don't feel comfortable sharing but if there is anything I can do to make it better, I need you to let me know" - Her soft voice came to him as a healing balm, she wasn’t mad at him like he thought she should of have after the way he acted, he could just sense worry and tenderness in her tone. His chest filled with love and warmth as he listened, wanting to stay like that forever. She patiently waited for him. - 

 " What would happen if I don't want to leave after the three years are up? Would you don't want me anymore after I become a citizen?" - She almost cried at how fragile and broken he sounded, he was sincerely afraid of them just leaving him behind and she felt guilty for not noticing how much the whole idea of the sponsorship process was affecting him. He had been quieter than usual for the past few days, but she downplayed it as just him being in the process of getting used to his new environment. - ‘’ Will I have to leave?’’

  ‘’ Oh, my sweet puppy’’ - She hugged him closer and he let out a content sight snuggling the side of her neck, discreetly scenting her. - ‘’ I don’t know everything you have gone through…’’ - At the mention of the past she immediately could feel the way his muscles tensed under her touch, so she did her best to ease him down, petting his ears always seemed to do the trick.- ‘’And you surely don’t have to share, but I hope we can replace those memories with new ones, ones full of smiles and lots of love, to the point that you can confidently believe that there is no place where you belong more than here with us… You will be able to decide, Taehyung, it will always be your choice. But know that we will always want you home.’’ - This time Taehyung started crying for a completely different reason. -

 ‘’ Can we have some ice cream?’’ - He asked in between sniffles after a few minutes of silence and Autumn couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips. And as she prepares three bowls of ice cream, she sent a message to Namjoon, asking him to email the paperwork for them to sign. -

[seanfalco]

Date Night Part 2 | Misfits Timeline Anomaly’verse

a/n: More of the collab with @super-unpredictable98 featuring our girls: Win & Lydia 💚 We split this one up into two parts, just in time for Thirsty Thursday.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: smut (orgy), language

Read Part One Here

——

Suddenly the timer went off in the kitchen and Win nearly jumped up to go get it before her Nathan wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, holding her in place.

“I think it’s the hostess’s job to get the food.”

Lydia slowly uncrossed her legs and got up, strutting towards the kitchen provocatively. She came back a second later and placed the tray on the coffee table.

Finally able to get her little revenge, she dropped to her knees and leaned over the table, letting her cleavage show even more while slicing the pizza.

"Dig in," she smiled innocently at the trio.

Win and her Nathan took a slice, Nathan nearly burning his mouth in his haste while Win blew lightly on hers before taking a bite and moaning softly.

“Oh Lyds, this is so good,” she purred, pulling a long string of cheese off with her fingers to place in her mouth.

Lyddie's Nathan took a second to snap out of his trance and start eating as well while Lydia joined the others on the couch, trying not to stare at Win.

"I'm glad you like it," she said, taking a bite. For a second she forgot the built-up desire and felt legitimately happy with the praise.

“Mhmm, maybe you’ll hafta teach me how to make more stuff, since I’m pretty hopeless in the kitchen,” Win murmured, finishing off her piece.

"Yeah, I can do that..." Lyddie looked away, knowing one look from her was enough to send shivers through her spine.

“Oh, thank goodness, even if th’only thing y’learn t’make is this, I’ll be happy,” Win’s Nathan exclaimed, picking up a fresh slice and flopping back on the couch.

“Oh, I’m sure there are loads of things we could teach each other,” Win said, licking her fingers clean.

"Yeah, there are a few things I could teach ya," Lyddie's Nathan started with a shit-eating smirk. "I reckon you'll love t'know that..."

"SHUT UP!" Lydia exclaimed suddenly, covering his mouth. "You don't need to make things worse."

“Hey now, let th’man speak,” Win said with a laugh, leaning again Lyddie’s Nathan’s shoulder. “I’m sure you could fill me in on a lot of helpful tips.”

“Somehow I don’t think we’re talkin’ bout cookin’ anymore,” the other Nathan grumbled.

"Right!" Lyddie looked at him "I have a lot of recipes, I could totally..."

"You have no idea," Lyddie's Nathan chuckled. "The steps might be tricky, but the results are certainly worth it."

Win smiled, half listening to the Nathan next to her as she realized for the moment, they were all getting along and it made her smile.

Lydia's rant about food in a desperate attempt to stop her Nathan from talking was cut short when she caught Win's smile.

I guess we're really becoming a couple... Or better said, a quad, Lydia thought to herself.

“So,” Win murmured, leaning in closer to Lyddie’s Nathan, unconsciously resting her hand on his thigh. “You gunna let me in on one of Lyddie’s secrets?”

"Lyds 101, the basics..." he whispered mischievously. "First thing y'need t'know is she likes when I'm crude, it gets her off, do with that what you will..."

“Crude, right, got it. Like, dirty talk, or—?”

"Yeah, but y'know... Inappropriate comments, shit that most people would find obnoxious or-or gross, she loves it.”

“Okay, that explains a lot actually,” Win said with a laugh, finally realizing how close she’d gotten to Lyddie’s Nathan and quickly cleared her throat, making to move away.

Lydia was only half aware of the conversation happening next to her, as she was distracted talking to Win's Nathan about her movie collection. She was enjoying his company. After all, he was a clone of her fiancé.

"There's a thing..." Lyddie's Nathan swallowed nervously when he noticed Win's hand on his thigh. "But she's gotta tell you herself, she'd kill me if I did."

“Not even a hint?” she pouted, batting her eyelashes at him

"Um..." Nathan mused for a second, definitely smitten with Win's charms. "If y'look in the fridge there's a hint, but if she finds out I told ya..."

Win scrunched up her face in thought, thinking of anything you kept in the fridge that could turn someone on.

“Well, thanks anyways,” she murmured with a sigh. For a moment Nathan thought she was gonna pull away, when suddenly she pressed her lips to his cheek.

Meanwhile, Win’s Nathan was gaping at Lydia’s future movie collection. “That’s so cool. I wonder what th’porn’s like in th’future,” he mused with a soft snort, glancing over at her.

"In the future girls make their own porn and sell it, it's this thing called Only Fans, I think it's pretty cool," Lydia chuckled, tempted to run her fingers through his hair. "I wanted to make one for extra cash, but I'm a little shy..."

Nathan’s eyes widened slightly, his mouth going dry.

“You totally should! I mean... if you wanted to,” he exclaimed. “Sometimes Win and I make our own home videos, maybe she could... I dunno, help yeh with that.”

"It only comes out in six years, but it wouldn’t hurt to practice... I’d love to watch one of these videos," Lydia mused, finally gathering the nerve to bury her fingers in his hair.

Nathan froze, his brows shooting up. “I-I mean... as long as Win’s okay with it, although what am I sayin’? For you, she’d def—“ his words cut off as he leaned in suddenly, taking Lydia and himself by surprise as he kissed her.

Lyddie's heart jumped in her chest. She kissed him back, this time knowing it wasn't her Nathan, but past caring about that.

"Don't say anything," she murmured, discreetly grinding against his thigh, trying to get some relief after the endless teasing.

Lyddie's Nathan was ready to interrupt them, but instead, he pulled Win closer and did the same, pressing his lips to hers.

"Oh!" Win gasped against his mouth, tensing at the suddenness, but her gasp quickly melted to a soft moan and she clutched at Lyddie's Nathan's shirt throwing her leg over his hips, and settling in his lap.

This was certainly not what she had envisioned earlier as she'd teased Lydia in the kitchen, but she wasn't complaining, having started to get rather pent up herself from teasing her new girlfriend.

Lydia rolled her hips more eagerly, a breathy moan leaving her lips in between kisses.

"Hmm," she noticed his bulge and bit her lip while looking up at the familiar face in front of her that somehow felt completely different. "Dinner is over, isn't it? I think that means I won..."

"Won what?" Win's Nathan asked, groaning, his eyes flicking to his girlfriend and the other Nathan going at it on the couch.

"Win challenged me. If I could stand her teasing until dinner was over, I win a special prize..." Lyddie explained while kissing Nathan's neck, rubbing herself against his bulge. "I did, so now I want my prize."

Win pulled back though Lyddie's Nathan chased her retreating lips. "You did resist, didn't you," she mused, moaning as Nathan didn't let her get far, nipping at her neck. "I suppose I could give you your prize now babe, but I wonder what our boys will do while we're indisposed..."

Lyddie's Nathan had never felt so confused, he wanted to keep snogging Win, but he also wanted to see her making Lyds scream.

"I wonder if they would rather watch, or help you..." Lydia ran her fingers teasingly over Win's Nathan's erection. "What do you wanna do, Natty?"

"Ohhhh, fuck," he groaned, glancing from her to Win and back. "I wanna help. I'm so good at helpin'."

At his words Win laughed, her breath hitching as she accidentally ground against the Nathan underneath her, feeling how aroused he was as well.

"And what about you?" she murmured, whining softly as she rolled her hips again, this time on purpose.

"I can't miss out on the fun... 'Course I wanna help," Lyddie's Nathan drawled. "You've been such a good girl, you deserve t'be spoiled a bit, Lollipop.”

"Great," Lydia exclaimed, getting up and looking back before heading to the room. "Which one of you is gonna help me get out of this dress? Or should I do it myself?"

Win quickly leapt from Lyddie's Nathan's lap to follow her. "Don't you dare touch that zipper," she exclaimed, taking Lydia's hand and pulling her to the bedroom, "I wanna be th'one to undress you."

Both Nathans gaped at each other for a moment before scrambling up to follow the girls.

"Anything you say, baby," Lydia sat down with a smirk, imagining what Win had in mind.

The two Nathans stared at them, not knowing exactly what to do, until Lyddie's Nathan climbed on the bed behind her, kissing her shoulders and the exposed portion of her back.

Win grasped the zipper of her dress and slowly eased it down as Nathan continued to kiss her, Win's hands slipping under the fabric as she reached around her front, groping her tits as she lifted her chin to catch her own Nathan's gaze over Lydia's shoulder, drawing him to the bed with her eyes.

"I think this has got t'be the hottest thing I've ever seen," he murmured, leaning in to kiss Win as he rested his hand on Lydia's thigh.

"Y'can be rougher with her, Win," Lyddie's Nathan laughed, reaching for her other thigh. "She likes it, don't you, Lollipop?"

Win threw him a disdainful look for a moment before yanking Lydia’s dress down, pinching her nipples and playing roughly with her piercings.

"Oh, Winnie!" Lydia hissed, parting her legs and leaning against her Nathan, her hand stroking Win's hair softly. "Just like that..."

“Mmm, I like hearing you moan my name like that,” Win purred in her ear. “Can you stand up for me, so we can get this dress off you?”

Lydia obediently stood up, letting the dress slide off her body. "Do you get naked as well?" she asked with a cheeky grin.

“Do you want us to?” Win asked, admiring Lyddie, arousal pooling between her legs at the thought of all of them getting naked together.

"Yes, I wanna feel you, all of you," Lydia murmured, pulling her in for a kiss, squeezing her ass firmly. "I don't think I've ever been so horny in my life.”

“God, that’s so hot,” Win murmured. “Are you gunna undress me? Or should I—?” she asked, lifting her shirt teasingly.

"It's my prize, I should unwrap it..." Lydia quickly ripped the other woman's shirt off before pulling her in again, this time onto her lap, as she sat back down.

The Nathans exchanged a quick awkward look before starting to undress, cautiously keeping a safe distance from one another.

“Damn, Lyddie,” Win gasped. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this side of you before.”

"I'm burning up, it's been so hard to resist you..." she nearly growled. "I want you so bad."

“Me too, fuck,” Win groaned. “I wanna have my dessert now,” she moaned, kissing Lydia roughly while the two Nathan’s watched, swallowing thickly, awkwardly trying not to look at each other, while still slightly curious to see if they were bigger than the other.

Lydia couldn't resist the curiosity and glanced over at the boys. Yep... two exact copies in every aspect.

"Come and get it," she said, laying down. "Do whatever you want to me, I'm yours."

“Nathan...” Win drawled, turning behind her to look at both of them, her eyes flicking down and back up, feeling their eyes on her. Even without any identifying features to physically tell them apart, she knew exactly which Nathan was hers just with the way he looked at her.

“Are you gunna come help me?” she asked, trailing her hands down her body before reaching down to touch Lyddie, suddenly feeling a spike of nerves as both Nathans approached, hers settling next to her, his hands finding her body and she shuddered.

"You come here." Lydia brought her Nathan close, their lips crashing as she squirmed under Win's touch and she quickly reached down to stroke his length. She was a little intimidated being naked in front of so many people at the same time, but it felt so good, she had no time to think too much about it.

Leaning over her, Win kissed Lyddie’s neck, taking Nathan’s advice and not being gentle, this time leaving a trail of dark hickeys along her neck and down her chest. Pausing to take one of Lydia’s pierced nipples in her mouth her own Nathan fondled her breasts from behind, his arms wrapping around her, drawing a moan from her.

“Babe, you should get your tits pierced,” he murmured, unable to tear his eyes from the scene in front of him. “That’d be so hot.”

"I think so too," Lydia giggled. The sharp pain that Win's relentless mouth left behind quickly turning into pleasure.

Lyddie's Nathan also had his eyes glued to the action as her hand worked his cock. "Fuck, Lollipop," he hissed, his breath catching in his throat as she picked up her pace. "You feel good? Is that what you wanted?"

"Uhum," she moaned, overwhelmed with desire.

“Just you wait, babygirl, cuz it’s gunna get a whole lot better,” Win said, parting her thighs and settling between them, already feeling her own arousal dripping down her leg and coating her skin, her own cunt aching as she lightly blew on Lyddie’s glistening sex.

Moaning softly, she parted Lydia’s folds to run the tip of her tongue along her slit to her clit, moaning louder at the taste of her, her fingers digging into the other woman’s thighs.

“Holy shit,” Win’s Nathan whispered, his voice hoarse. “That’s right Win baby, I bet she tastes so good.”

As he egged her on, his hand slid over her backside, giving her ass a firm slap and Win moaned into Lydia’s pussy before Nathan’s hand moved farther down, his fingers delving his girlfriend’s folds.

Lyddie gasped as a jolt of pleasure struck her. Win's mouth felt even better than she remembered, her skilled tongue was like heaven after such a long, torturous wait. "Oh, please," she arched her back, looking down to watch as Win's Nathan fingered her, wanting to see her feeling just as good.

"So sensitive, aren'tcha?" Lydia's Nathan moved to kiss his fiancé's neck and squeeze her tits before taking her nipple between his plump lips.

Trying to concentrate with Nathan’s fingers moving in and out of her, Win lapped desperately at Lydia, the other woman’s sweet sounds only serving to turn her on more.

“Win,” her Nathan groaned, his fingers slowing and she lifted her face to look back at him. “I’m dyin’ here,” he whined and a slow grin spread across her face as she wriggled her ass at him.

“Go ahead,” she purred, pausing to bite her lip before resuming her exploration of Lyddie’s pussy with her tongue, but as soon as she felt the tip of Nathan’s cock brush her entrance she shuddered, arching her back as he slowly slid into her, her tongue freezing for a moment as she inhaled sharply while Nathan’s hips snapped into her backside, rocking her forward slightly, pressing her face harder into Lydia’s cunt.

Lyddie nearly came just from the sight of Nathan fucking Win from behind. She looked up at her own Nathan and raised her eyebrows as if asking ‘do you want it too?’ to which he enthusiastically nodded.

"Fuck my face, Natty," she begged through her helpless moaning.

Her Nathan quickly jumped off the bed and positioned himself so she could turn her head and take his cock in her mouth.

"Jesus..." he groaned, mirroring his clone's reaction almost identically, as Lydia hummed, swallowing every inch of him. "Good girl, you're so good t'me."

Win could feel Lydia getting wetter as she lapped at her, made slightly more difficult with her Nathan pounding into her from behind and she had to brace herself with one hand, pressing into the mattress to the side of Lyddie’s hip while her other hand continued spreading her lips.

The lewd slap of skin on skin nearly drowned out the chorus of moans and the wet sounds of Win’s tongue and Lyddie’s Nathan fucking her mouth.

Feeling her climax nearing with each smooth thrust of her boyfriend’s cock Win moved her tongue desperately against Lyddie’s bundle of nerves, lapping broad forceful strokes despite the ache growing in her jaw. She wanted her to come at the same time she did, if she could.

Lydia tried to concentrate on both giving and receiving pleasure, it was hard, but it also made her feel complete in a way.

She wasn't sure how much longer she could stand before coming, after all the build-up she could've easily orgasmed within a minute or less. Feeling Win's moans against her cunt just drove Lydia even closer to the edge, her eyes slowly tearing up with the overstimulation.

"That's right, baby..." her Nathan moaned, bucking his hips, his fingers tangled in her long hair. "I'm gettin' close, d'you want it in your mouth?" he asked already knowing the answer.

A high-pitched whine echoed in Win’s throat as her orgasm hit her and she tensed as Nathan rut erratically into her, his thrusts growing shallower as he came. But she didn’t stop though tears pricked her eyes until a loud muffled moan ripped from her as Lyddie began to shake beneath her, her hands clutching at Win and she finally stopped, giving her one last lick before collapsing atop her as Nathan buried himself to the hilt one last time with a groan.

Lydia quickly swallowed her Nathan's load as he finished in her mouth, her new enhanced lung capacity proving to be very useful in situations like that.

"God, that was amazing," Lyddie’s Nathan groaned as he let his body relax, laying next to her and placing a soft kiss on her temple.

"That... was quite the prize," Lydia purred, pulling Win into her arms and running one hand over her back.

Win hummed contently, snuggling against Lyddie as the other woman pulled her close. “You deserved it babe,” she murmured, completely relaxed, her eyes fluttering shut until she felt her Nathan crawl atop the bed next to her, fitting himself to her body and pressing a tender kiss to her shoulder.

“I think next time we should spoil you,” he whispered, drawing a tired laugh to her swollen lips.

"That sounds amazing," Lydia sighed. "But I'll mercilessly tease you first, just so you get the full experience."

[saviorsbookcafe]

The Savior’s Book Café in Another World: Chapter 4

INDEX || PREVIOUS || NEXT

Chapter 4: Interaction

Translated by: sydney Proofread by: Necro

My first customer, a man named Ill, came back to my café the next day at the same time.

Unlike yesterday, when he arrived seeming very tense, today he seems very excited.

As another person who loves books, I know that feeling well.

“Welcome.”

“Excuse me, could I borrow the book you were holding for me again?”

“Yes, of course. Here you are.”

After I handed him the book I had been holding onto, he sat at the same table as yesterday.

I explained that there’s also a private room, and he hesitated for a moment before saying he’d move if someone else came.

The seat he’s sitting at is near the fire, and is in a very good place for getting new books from the shelves, so he probably likes that seat.

I hand him the menu, and after looking at it for a short time, he orders several things, all of which are more filling items.

Maybe he just wasn’t very hungry yesterday.

Maybe it’s because he’s a man, but he’s also part of the Knights, meaning he would probably be fighting a lot.

I wonder if he’s training, since he seems to be in good shape, or maybe he’s just the type to eat a lot.

I bring him enough things to bury the small one-person table, and after eating the main meal, he begins reading while eating the last things with one hand.

It makes me glad to see him take one bite and be surprised before continuing to eat with a smile.

As someone who enjoys cooking, it makes me very happy when people enjoy eating what I’ve made for them.

I look away so I don’t disturb his reading, and open my own book.

From then on, he came almost every day.

He always comes to the café around the same time, once it gets to evening, after he’s finished working for the day.

He leaves at different times, but he always seems to want to stay as long as possible.

It was over a month later of him coming to the café, around the time when we had begun talking more and more.

Recently, while I’m making his order, he’ll sometimes come to the counter and talk with me.

We always talk about books, telling each other which ones are interesting or which ones we’d recommend, things along those lines.

Every book he’s introduced me to has been interesting, and every time I stock new books, he always says they’re books he’s wanted to read.

It’s peaceful, and while I thought that once customers started coming I would lose time for reading, getting excited about books with someone with the same taste as me is only fun.

“The books you stock always look interesting, every time I come I spend a long time deciding which one to read next.”

“Me too. All of the books you’ve told me about have been so interesting, once I get them in, I can’t decide where to start.”

“I know that if I start reading while I’m worried, I can only read so much.”

“It’s difficult, isn’t it? Although the time spent worrying is still enjoyable.”

I’ve never had someone I could talk to like this before, so spending time talking with him has become another thing I look forward to recently.

Most of my friends from my old world weren’t the type to read much.

It was as I was talking with him and was putting the finishing touches on his food.

Even as I focused on putting the last touches on, we didn’t stop talking.

“The new book you got the other day was very interesting. I was surprised when everything turned around at the last part.”

“Right, I know! No one could have predicted that!” I replied enthusiastically, before frantically covering my mouth with my hands.

He looks at me with a slightly surprised expression, and I break out into a cold sweat, thinking, Now I’ve done it.

I was focused on cooking, but I was also so excited that he felt the same that I started talking to him like we were close friends.

“I-I’m sorry. I haven’t had anyone else to be excited with about books like this before. I was just happy that someone else felt the same way when reading the same part of the same book...,” I frantically apologized, and his expression changed to a gentle smile.

And then in the somewhat awkward atmosphere, he opened his mouth.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind. I haven’t had anyone to talk to about books like this before either. Um...if it’s okay, I’d be happy if you wanted to be more like friends, sort of like reading companions.”

“Huh?”

From his personality, I didn’t think that he would be angry, but I didn’t expect him to say that.

Not that it doesn’t make me happy.

“Um, are you sure?”

“Yeah. Even though I’ve been teased for being a bookworm, I’ve never had the chance to talk with anyone who likes reading as much as I do. And there’s the benefit of it being easier to stay here longer if you became friends with me.”

He smiles, his reply serious but with a joke thrown in as well.

I unconsciously let out a breath at his words, and then look him in the eyes and smile.

“That would be nice.... I’d like that.”

“I’m happy to hear that.”

I stopped using the polite language I had been using towards him, and he started speaking with me more informally as well.

Somehow, it seems that not only did I get my ideal café in this other world, but I got my ideal friend.

Immediately after, he introduced himself properly to me, and I was surprised to learn that he’s the Knight Captain in this country.

Apparently ‘Ill’ is a nickname, and his actual name is ‘Soeil.’

Ever since I found out about this country’s information notices, or rather, the pamphlets where the planned monster subjugations are written that are passed out periodically, I’ve read it every day, and the mentioned Knight Captain’s name was the same.

Since it’s always the two of us in the café, I don’t need to use his name when we talk, so I never noticed.

He told me just to call him ‘Ill,’ but it felt like I’d become friends with a really amazing person.

But now I can probably talk about books without holding back.

It seems he was thinking the same, as from that day on he sat at the counter and we had deeper conversations than before.

A short while after we became friends, we became comfortable talking to each other without holding back, and before I knew it, it felt like we were rapidly becoming closer.

It’s fun, knowing that even if I talked enough to make the average person draw back, I would get even more in response.

I never thought it would make me this happy to find someone who I could talk about something I love with from the bottom of my heart.

As it seemed that he was always looking forward to coming here, I began looking forward to opening the café door for him.

And precisely because we became friends, there was one thing that I began to worry about.

More accurately, I was worried about it before as well, but I couldn’t well bother a customer about it, so I tried to simply ignore it.

He looked forward to coming to the café, but as soon as he entered, he would let out a big sigh that seemed to be of relief.

There were always faint bags under his almond-shaped eyes, and while he would seem to be enjoying himself when reading, when he was leaving the café, he would let out another sigh, this one seeming to be of depression, as he left.

Both of these sighs seemed somehow subconscious.

Since it doesn’t seem like he dislikes the café, maybe there’s something he doesn’t like before and after coming here.

I watched as he rode away after sighing as he left again today, and closed up the café. Before I go to sleep, I think while looking at the book in front of me.

Being a Knight Captain must be stressful sometimes, so maybe he’s just sighing because he’s stressed or tired?

Like me, he relieves stress by reading, so maybe it would help to stock some new books, I think, returning my gaze to the open book in front of me.

My current lifestyle includes spending the morning reading, then in the afternoon I work on new developments for the menu or otherwise organizing the café, and once Ill arrives, I spend that time either reading or studying magic.

I spend most of my time reading by far, but the book on my lap today is a magic textbook.

This book has quite the variety of spells, including several that seem useful for using around the café.

As I’m flipping through the pages, one spell stands out to me, and I carefully read its description.

“...this is it.”

A type of fatigue restoration magic that you cast on food or drinks.

In other words, it’s as if a health food took effect immediately, and it doesn’t seem to have any negative effects on the consumer’s body.

It’s a spell that helps you recover from fatigue and simultaneously accelerates recovery from injuries.

“‘After using the spell to recover once, you can take a slightly weaker version daily to reduce fatigue in general....’”

It seems like this spell is usually used in restaurants or hospitals, and it falls under the class of advanced magic.

Enchanted items tend to jump up in price based on the magic used, and it says using this magic without changing the flavor of the food consumes a considerable amount of magic.

‘At famous high-class restaurants, they sometimes have a specialist exclusively for casting these spells’?

A good sense for handling magic is required is also written in red letters to stand out, so it seems that by nature this isn’t the kind of magic that would be used in a personal café like mine.

“The amount of magic it costs isn’t a problem, and I have no need to raise my prices. All that’s left is to see if I can actually use it properly.”

This way, Ill won’t think anything is strange, so I decide to try it out and brew a cup of tea for myself.

I followed the book’s instructions and casted the spell.

It doesn’t look any different, and it doesn’t taste any different either.

I get the feeling that my shoulders are suddenly lighter, but it could just be my imagination, so I decide to test out for certain whether or not this magic worked.

“Umm, in order to see for certain whether or not this recovery magic works, I’m supposed to cast a light offensive spell.... Offensive spell....”

After a moment of thinking, I face my cup of tea and try to cast an offensive spell.

The flame in my hand made a pathetic fizzling sound, barely making a ripple on the cup of tea upon impact.

This is terrible, even a child could cast a better offensive spell.

The cup of tea sparkled brightly, indicating that the magic is working, so it seems like at least the restoration spell itself was fine.

“...I can light the fireplace, so why?”

Even the spells I can normally cast, as soon as I try to imagine them as offensive spells, they turn into pathetic knock-offs.

No matter what type, they all turn into the same thing, so I suppose even if I learn offensive spells I won’t be able to use them.

If that’s the case, I’ll master defensive magic to protect myself, I decided.

The recovery magic seems to have been a success, so my goal is accomplished.

“I wonder if it won’t recover all at once. But it said it has a strong effect...oh, it says, ‘It may be difficult to feel the effects at first, but once you go to sleep, you will recover immediately.’“

If I wake up tomorrow and feel fine, then I’ll put restoration magic on Ill’s food without saying anything about it.

He’s already asked me if the café’s prices are really alright.

If I talk about the restoration magic, then it might make him worry about it more.

If we were just café owner and customer, this might be a little much, but as reading companions, I think it’ll be okay.

He isn’t the type of person to hate this, and we don’t have a shallow friendship where this would be inappropriate.

“I hope that with this, he’ll feel even just a little better.”

The day after I learned that new spell, I woke up feeling amazing.

“My body, it feels so light!” I say without thinking, sitting up in my bed.

I can’t feel any of the stiffness in my shoulders that comes from reading so much, nor do I feel the slightest bit tired from having just woken up.

I almost wanted to go for a run right now, my body felt so good.

Of course, with the snow piled up outside, I have no intention of actually doing that.

“It isn’t called ‘Advanced Magic’ for nothing.”

Grateful that part of being a Savior means having such strong magic, I stand up and open the window to look outside.

As usual, the snow is piled up, but today the sun is out, so it looks like good weather.

With my body feeling light and the warm sun outside, wearing thicker clothes and spending my morning reading on the veranda today might be nice.

I bring a warm cup of tea and cookies, and open my book on my lap on the veranda outside.

It’s the start of a worthwhile day.

It’s not like I had been feeling particularly tired until now, but of course when your body is lighter your mood is better.

I finished all of the work I had actually planned to divide among several days, and came up with a new menu.

I was working all day, but my body didn’t get tired.

If it didn’t cost any more than one cup of tea to get this effect then it should be fine if I give it to Ill as well.

He’ll probably come in the evening today too, so if he can recover from his fatigue then he should be a little more relaxed mentally as well.

Speaking of which, it’s about the time he normally comes.

When I looked at the horse paddock earlier, the grass seemed to be diminishing considerably, so I’ll grow some more, I think, putting aside the book on my lap and standing up.

I’ve only ever seen Ill inside the café, so I’ve never seen his horse.

I like animals, so I wonder if Ill would let me pet his horse, I think, opening the door outside.

As soon as the door is open, I feel a cold wind blowing, as expected since it’s getting close to evening.

It was warm this morning, but this is a snow country.

“It’s so cold, I’m glad this country is peaceful, but if it’s snowing all year round.... I have the feeling it’ll take awhile before I get used to this.”

The roads that people use are fundamentally enchanted so the snow doesn’t pile up on them, but that doesn’t change how cold it is, and lately I’ve been missing having four seasons.

Although it sounds like the other large countries each have one season, spring, summer, or fall, all year long as well.

At least in winter I can manage by wearing extra clothes to keep warm, so it’s better than a summer country.

I hurry to the stable and open the door.

Thankfully the barrier keeps it warm, but the grass that should have been growing in the corner of the paddock is almost completely gone.

Maybe I should’ve cast a spell to make it grow automatically to an extent.

“Horses eat quite a bit. If anyone aside from Ill had started coming, I definitely wouldn’t have had enough.”

Speaking of which, don’t horses eat things aside from grass, like fruit or carrots?

I have horse feed prepared, but I kind of want to try offering fresh vegetables.

If they’re different from the horses in my old world, that wouldn’t work, so I’ll ask Ill if it’s okay to let his horse eat some.

Checking that he hasn’t come yet, I use my pendant to search for some apples and carrots and summon them.

I summoned them pre-cut and in a bowl, so that holding onto them like this wouldn’t be strange.

Carrying the bowl in my arms, I moved to the corner with the grass.

Even though I’ve already passed thirty, using magic is more fun than it should be.

If I lightly concentrate on a spell for growing grass, a magic circle appears and I could feel my spirits lift.

Then, if I use more of my magic, the magic circle expands, and grass grows where the magic circle touches.

Yeah, this is fun.

“...I think that’s good.”

Just as the area expands a little more, I stop using my magic and turn back to face the entrance only to meet eyes with Ill, who’s standing with a slightly surprised expression.

“Oh, welcome! Sorry, I didn’t hear you. I was just thinking I would add more grass to the paddock before you came.”

“Oh, uh, sorry, I didn’t say anything. I came a little earlier today.”

Next to Ill, who showed up out of nowhere, stood a pure white horse.

It’s much bigger than any of the horses at the farms in my old world, so I suppose this is what a war horse looks like.

It feels even bigger from up close, I notice as I walk towards it.

“You’re so big! It’s nice to meet you,” I say, looking up at it from below.

The horse seemed to take interest as well, moving its head down so I can get a better look at its face.

“Wow, you’re so pretty!”

It’s beautiful, even compared to other horses.

Its crisp features seemed to match Ill’s somehow, which I found amusing.

It has calm blue eyes that give it a gentle impression.

Its intrigued eyes widen, and it brings its head further down towards me.

“H-hey!”

Ill’s seemingly panicked voice echoes in the paddock, but his horse pays him no mind as it ducks its head towards me, or rather, the bowl I’m holding.

Its nose pokes at the bowl of vegetables.

“Ahaha, you like them don’t you? I prepared these thinking you’d be able to eat them, but,” I turn to Ill, asking, “is that okay? And is it okay if I pet your horse?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s fine. You can feed her.”

I held a piece of apple out, and she ate it from my hand.

Her eyes widen and sparkle brightly.

“You’re so cute, I’ll leave these in the food box for you and you can eat as much as you want.”

As if understanding me, she neighs happily and comes towards the box.

I’ve never had a horse come so close to me before, but animals are certainly cute.

“She’s so cute, can I pet her?”

“...yeah. She won’t hurt you, so just pet her nose like that.”

I stroke her nose the way Ill says.

Her eyes stayed just as gentle.

After petting her, I move my hand away, and she raises her head.

Unlike before, where her head was lowered for me, I probably wouldn’t be able to reach her nose like this.

“Ahh, animals really soothe me. Thanks for letting me pet her.”

“Oh, I don’t mind that at all. You’re not afraid?”

“Afraid? You mean, of horses?”

“Yeah.”

I never would have seen that question coming.

Certainly, horses are very big, so there are people who would be afraid, but unlike in my old world, horses are an important mode of transportation all over the country.

Not only that, but they’re unlikely to hurt anyone, and out of all of the animals I like, they’re one of my favorites.

For some reason, Ill has a serious expression on his face, which seems strange to me, but I answer his question.

“I’m not afraid, I’ve always liked horses. I think yours is especially pretty and cute.”

I look at her towards the end of my sentence, and she lowers her head for me again.

I pet her nose once more as I look over at Ill.

“The maids at the castle aren’t afraid either, are they? Since the horses are always helping us out.”

Hearing my answer, Ill is surprised for a moment, before looking downwards.

When he looks up again, his expression has changed to a happy smile.

“That’s right.... Thank you for the apples.”

“Of course, thank you for letting me pet her.”

As Ill released the reins, his horse happily ran towards the box I’d put the apples in.

His horse was so pretty that I could fall in love just looking at her.

In the café, there was a window that had a view of the horse paddock, with a curtain that I haven’t opened before, but if it meant I could see Ill’s horse running around I’d open it next time.

After watching his horse eat, her eyes sparkling, I faced Ill again.

“Oh, I got another book that you said you wanted to read.”

“Really?!” he asked, smiling happily and beginning to walk towards the café.

You don’t often see the customer leading the way, huh.

Noticing that his joyful smile looked similar to his horse’s sparkling eyes, I smile to myself.

They say pets take after their owners, but I hadn’t considered that to extend to horses and their riders.

Not only do both Ill and his horse have crisp features, they’ll both light up around the things they like in the exact same way.

I smile to myself again before following Ill into the café.

I hope the new novels I stocked today and the restoration magic help him feel better.

Once Tsukina and I became reading companions, we were able to enjoy reading together even more.

I couldn’t have imagined being able to talk this much with a woman my age almost every day, but since we both enjoy reading, being able to talk so deeply about books is unbelievably fun.

I also got my appetite back, as if it were never gone, and most of the books I’d given up on reading after not being able to get them were in that café.

If all the commotion with the Savior wasn’t going on, I probably could have enjoyed it even more.

As usual, the young Savior girl would not learn magic.

She had apparently seen one of the Knights’ horses out, and we were even ordered to be more careful with them.

The Knights’ irritation was past its peak.

Most of the members had left their horses at their parents’ or with friends, and decided to let the horses exercise there, far away from the castle.

Beork was continuing to work with the Princess to find a time and place.

It really is good that I found that café.

I can let my horse run around there, and I feel like going there immediately relieves me of my stress.

At any rate, even if the horses are big, what’s frightening about seeing them from far away?

Are they scary to women...to Tsukina too?

That concern was resolved by none other than Tsukina herself.

Watching Tsukina pet my beloved horse with a smile on her face was relieving.

At first I thought I’d made a mistake.

In any case, I’d wanted to get away from the young Savior girl, so I left the castle faster than usual which was bad.

I was relieved to arrive at the café, and I opened up the gate to the horse paddock without checking inside first, which was careless of me.

In the paddock that I thought was empty, Tsukina was using some kind of magic in the corner.

In the middle of the growing magic circle, grass begins to grow from the ground.

Growing plants is a considerably advanced type of creation magic, and growing them from nothing even more so.

Along with how well the barrier worked, and the magic in the café in even the smallest places, I’m impressed at how amazing her magic and magic control are.

I began thinking in the back of my mind about how nice it would be if she were a Savior.

Watching her turn around and her expression change to one of surprise, I immediately forget about those thoughts.

Next to me is my beloved horse, a huge horse, one that the Savior fears upon simply seeing.

She might be afraid of them too, I realize as I straighten my back, afraid of what might happen.

This is my beloved horse that I’ve left my life in the hands of, so if Tsukina, who I’ve built up a good relationship with, rejects her....

But it seems that was also an unnecessary worry.

She tells my horse It’s nice to meet you with the same cheerful smile she always wears, and compliments her.

My horse is happy to be complimented.

Even when she sticks her nose in the bowl Tsukina’s holding, Tsukina doesn’t get upset, offering her an apple and coming closer to pet her with a happy smile.

“The maids at the castle aren’t afraid either, are they?” she asked, making me realize I’ve forgotten about that.

I detested that at some point, the Savior girl had become the standard in my mind, but I was wholly relieved that Tsukina didn’t reject me.

Tsukina follows that up by telling me that she had gotten a book I wanted to read in, and I quickly head towards the café.

There may be a lot going on at the castle, but at least once I finish work I’m able to come here.

A place I can relax with my favorite books and delicious food.

When I find books I want to talk about, I can talk about them with her.

When I open the door and she meets me with a gentle smile, I finally feel like I can breathe.

The times I can’t go because of work are unbearably disappointing.

Before, once I finished work, I would go directly back to my room and read, but lately I’ve felt like I can relax better in this café than in my own room.

The several months since finding this café, I’ve come here every day so long as I didn’t have something I absolutely couldn’t get out of.

I step into the café I know so well now, and Tsukina follows with a cheerful smile.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, it’s nothing. What do you want today?”

“I had tea yesterday, so today I’ll have coffee. Can I order something to eat later?”

“Yes, that’s fine. I’ll have the coffee out in a minute.”

I watch her head towards the counter, and choose a book before moving to my usual seat.

There is quite a variety of drinks, so I’ve been ordering something different every day, and they’re all delicious.

Maybe I’ll ask if she would sell me some tea leaves or coffee beans, I thought, opening my book.

After some time, she brings me the coffee I asked for.

Just like always, it’s delicious, and I let out an impressed sound at the feeling of it going down my throat.

Whether it’s because of sitting in a place I like drinking a warm drink, my body suddenly feels lighter.

The sound of quiet music, the crackling fire, and Tsukina and myself flipping pages of our books.

The sounds of the café when it’s just Tsukina and me are gentle and make me relax even more.

So much that I’d almost rather live here.

Which is exactly why it’s unbearably depressing to leave.

Turning away from Tsukina, who watches me leave with a smile, I leave the café, sighing again.

I wonder if the Savior will cause even more problems tomorrow.

With that depressing thought, I fell into my bed and the next day came.

Recently, even immediately after I wake up, I’ve been feeling somewhat tired.

But this morning I sit up and stare at my hands.

My body feels so light, it’s like the fogginess in my mind has cleared up.

It isn’t that my disgust of the Savior has gone away, but I feel somewhat refreshed.

I stand up from my bed and take a few steps before stopping in place.

On top of having to do a lot of paperwork, swinging a sword around leads to a chronic pain in my shoulders that’s now gone away.

I wonder if this is because being at the café yesterday was very relaxing.

But I’ve never felt this well in all the months of going there.

“Well, there’s nothing better than being able to move.”

Today I promised Beork I’d spar with him in the morning.

Once I’m dressed, I head to the training grounds.

Beork had already arrived and was waving to me, and I gripped my sword as I waved back.

After several rounds of sparring, we decide to take a break, and I drink some water.

Although I have the higher position, there is little difference between Beork’s and my capabilities.

Having fought seriously, we were both out of breath.

“Aren’t you stronger today?”

“I’ve been feeling good today. It’s easy to move.”

“You definitely look well. Did something good happen?”

Something good..., I think, suddenly picturing Tsukina’s smile in my head.

Since I found that café, and since I met her, the days have been far more enjoyable than before.

Every day, I can’t wait to be done with work for the day.

I’m sure she’ll greet me with a smile again today.

Thinking of her smile makes my own lips pull into a smile.

“I suppose so, something good did happen.”

“Did you find a book you wanted? If you can’t find any time to read, I can take your horse out for a run for you, you know.”

“I’m fine right now, thanks. Anyways, make sure to find some time with the Princess. I hope you know she’s the one protecting the maids from the Savior.”

“Of course. Usually once work ends, I spend time with her. Today, not just because of the horse grounds, we’re planning to take my horse for a ride.”

“I see, I hope you get to spend some time together. The Princess can probably relax better away from the castle too.”

For some reason, I’d rather not bring up Tsukina, so I keep my words vague.

Maybe when the commotion with the Savior is under control, I can introduce her to Beork.

Well, there’s not really any problem with introducing her now.

But for a little longer, I want to have that place to myself to relax.

That warm space, and her friendship.

I smile wryly, thinking about how even though I’m an adult, wanting to keep that place to myself almost feels like I’ve become a child again.

Translation Notes:

“I started talking to him like we were close friends”: in Japanese culture, there is polite language (language used when speaking to people you don’t know well) and casual language (language used when speaking to people close to you); in this scene, Tsukina suddenly started using casual language towards Ill, which can be considered offensive, especially considering that he’s a customer at her café, which is why she was so horrified when she realized

“reading companions”: this is a literal translation of the Japanese term, as they’re not really “friends” friends yet, but are more than acquaintances, and this means they’re able to act more friendly with each other; in Japanese culture and the term “friend” indicates a stronger relationship than in English

“he started speaking with me more informally as well”: in this instance the Japanese actually says “he stopped using “you” (あなた anata) and started using “you” (君・きみ kimi) to me instead,” but I changed it to make it flow better. But if you’re interested in learning about Japanese second person pronouns (ways to say “you”), I’ve written a Twitter thread here about this topic, and you can find info on the nuances between あなた anata and 君・きみ kimi there

[b4kuch1n]

As you are, a kettle of blue

ya boye had an idea, sat down, and got it out. in 11k words. I need a forced shut down

QCed by @cosbeans - thank you so much for sitting through this shit with me, and for jumping in the hole in the first place when I extended my hand to you. honestly wouldnt know what to do without you there with me.\

Todd snapped on day three.

Dirk should elaborate.

Okay, here's Todd's thing: his surface tolerance for anomalies in his life is low. Like, below-Farah-level low. And he likes to make it known! he very much does. Anyone who lingers in his vicinity for over five minutes will immediately learn, because he will tell them. Mostly by complaining. Todd likes to complain, and it's part of his charm, in Dirk's and no one else's opinion. Farah sure doesn't care for that as much as she just endures it.

That is not to say that Todd is a rigid man in his routines - he is adaptable, crafty, and his mind for puzzles is a beautiful thing. The man just requires a healthy, regular, quite sizeable side of complaining to go with whatever it is that he does at any point. And it’s not that it hasn’t had its use before; Todd was most acquainted with normalcy (or, well, dullness) pre-things, and he still has an eye for the baseline of where things should be even now, and he doesn’t hesitate to call people out on being ridiculous when he feels it justified. And that usually stuns a supervillain like nothing else.

So: Todd has a complaint specially made for every occasion, which means he isn’t quiet too often. His happiness ranges anywhere from a warm, fuzzy buzz with smiles and light elbow jabs to downright mania full of breathless laughters and clinginess, and his annoyance is aimed outward most of the time. Which Dirk is very okay with, by the way; he isn’t good at reading social cues or body language, if that hasn’t made itself clear yet. He likes when people just say what they’re feeling. And, well, Todd sure does that.

The almost constant slight buzz of Todd also serves to signify when something is seriously wrong, more wrong than usual, which is when it goes quiet.

And that was half a day ago.

...Dirk isn’t elaborating much, is he now.

Okay, so, there was this case. Which was three days before this point. A case, very intriguing, very exciting, with all these little details scattered all over the city, leading them into two days of leg work and snooping and one unfortunate swim involving a very vicious goldfish, and finally landing them in a crypt under a hipster coffee shop. A case that started with Dirk being hit on the head with a medium-sized, hardcover book, a fact he had generously tolerated but which came back to bite him in the bum by the end of their second investigative day, in the form of another whap nailing his head right where it had been assaulted before.

Generally Dirk just took these attacks with grace and serenity - things happen to him - but their current client (whose actual identity they had not even come very close to finding out yet) was sliding ever so slightly to his bad side on account of that.

So! The book was locked with a small iron lock, which in hindsight Farah could definitely get through in twenty seconds flat, but Dirk had just immediately fixated on the idea of a key. It was logical, but not very open-minded of him, he will admit; but in his defense, that lead had just been so attractive. Either it was a nudge from the universe, or he had some serious soul searching to do.

Fortunately the latter was not the case, given that the chase for the key lead them to an antique shop, whose owner asked for a favour, which lead them to a CD store, which had seen some shenanigans before their arrival, and they were then sent to an old lady, and then to a park, where the swim happened, and by the end they didn’t get the right key for the book, but that key worked on the barista in the hipster coffee shop. Yes, the barista.

That was awkward for every party involved.

But anyway, they got inside the crypt (the barista was glowing, but not in a miraculous way. It felt more like turning on an agonized head lamp that followed you around), someone snuck in after them, Farah was shut in the inner chamber, Dirk was hit upside the head, and the next time he opened his eyes it was to the roof of a van, Todd unconscious beside him.

Well, not unconscious. Todd was sleeping - he didn’t have that scary stillness to someone unconscious. That, however, wasn’t that comforting a knowledge, given that Todd was still working on his insomnia problem, and only fell asleep in stressful environments when he was absolutely, one hundred percent exhausted. Which was why Dirk let him sleep while he sat down for an amicable, gun-laden talk with their captors.

That talk went something like this: I’m looking for someone from a prophecy, and you also appear in that prophecy, so I’ve kidnapped you so I can have all the pieces in one place. First of all, flattering of the prophet, second, why didn’t you guys come to our office. We have a business built around these kinds of mysteries, and I feel like it’s being disrespected right now. Because we’re gonna kill the man the prophecy sends us to, and the world is blind to our mission.

Cool, very cool. I definitely do not have problems with any of this at all.

Also why is my friend grabbed?

He was there, the captor who had been speaking up until that point waved the gun around for emphasis, while the other one eyed that action with annoyance and wariness.

It wasn’t a very exciting exchange of words.

They covered up the windows in the cabin, so Dirk didn’t have much of an idea of where they were going, and they stripped him and Todd both of their phones, so no chance of calling for help. Todd woke up extra groggy, which signaled something Not Fun, and Dirk spent the first evening in captive assessing Todd’s situation while hanging onto Todd’s arm so he knew he wasn’t alone in his predicaments. Well, some of them.

Todd, of course, started his actual wakefulness with, “Where are we.”

“I would say this is a van,” Dirk offered his input, “but. Well. I have seen this interior in many places, an elevator included.”

Todd made to stand up. “Those assholes hit you in the head?” He grimaced. “That’s not— I just want to know. It’s not a jab. Fuck, my fucking head.”

“It’s okay to sit down,” Dirk’s voice wobbled a bit dangerously there. “And, my head is. Very whole. They did hit it, in the same spot the book hit it, which I didn’t appreciate by the way, but it is in one piece, or you would have noticed I think. And so would I. I would very probably be talking much less than I am right now, and just, do less in general. I would be very still, and oh, that’s very morbid Dirk. Dirk should stop.”

“Dirk should stop,” Todd echoed with a hint of fondness amidst a sea of annoyance. He rose to his feet with a grunt.

“More importantly,” Dirk pressed forward while quickly arranging his limbs into pre-standing up position, “I wasn’t there when what happened to you… happened. I was there physically, but I was. Out. Is what I meant. So I am asking whether you have been…”

“Hit. Yes— yeah. I was hit.” Todd said, and walked over to the bench bolted onto the side wall. It was wobbling a bit with the lurch of the van. He dropped to his knees and snuck his hand underneath it. “Okay, so. If we’re in a van right now then there should be a panel here somewhere that— opens into… a… thing. And we can jam the axle.”

Dirk stared at him, while his head registered none of that other than the vague impression of huh Todd knows these things very cool . His brain was, in fact, rather busy chasing around the fact that Todd didn’t look like he had a concussion like a particularly excitable puppy. So Todd didn’t fall asleep after a concussion. It wasn’t the hit that took him out.

“You had an attack, didn’t you,” Dirk said lamely, and Todd’s shoulders tensed.

“I— yeah.”

Dirk stared at him some more.

“Don’t let me start on it, because I won’t stop. I won’t be able to, and I won’t want to, and in no time I’m gonna be on the other side of that window strangling someone, who’s probably driving this thing, and I will yell a lot, and we will die in an incredibly shitty way.”

“I won’t let you start on it,” Dirk swore, drawing a cross on his heart with his finger. “But it might be wise to sit down for another minute first.”

Todd shrugged. “I slept it off. Got it,” he said, and crouched down even further to look at whatever it was that he got. “It’s screwed shut, so, hm. Dirk?” He turned his head to the side to look at Dirk. “You still have the key on you?”

Dirk held up his hands. “It was still in the barista, per my last memory pre-whap.”

“Pre-wha—” Todd’s face scrunched up slightly. “Nevermind. Never-goddamn-mind. Do I—” He groped around for his wallet, a search that came up empty. “Of all times for some dumbass kidnappers to be thorough. Of course. Alright.”

Dirk was still staring at him, and, well. He wasn’t going to stop, if one asked. He was just acknowledging the action.

Todd turned to him again, and the indignance in his face really shouldn’t be this endearing. “What is the deal of those dudes, anyway?”

“I do have an answer for that, actually,” Dirk informed him, delightfully, and he told Todd about the prophecy. By the end of the explanation Todd has sat down onto the wobbly bench, hands on his face, the arch of his back telling of a soul-deep weariness.

“Why.” He groaned through his hands. “Can’t they have normal motives for once. They have a fucking gun each, sure, but not enough common sense to split between their fucking heads.”

Common sense is a rarity, and yet very much overrated, Dirk thought cheerfully. What he said out loud though, was “They are very whimsical.”

Todd sighed. He tipped his head back until it collided with the window with a hitch in his breath. The window was still stubbornly covered in dark film. “I hate it when people like this kidnap us,” he grumbled. “I mean— it’s nice of them to not tie us up, or drug us, or give a shit what we say or plan between us, but.” His left arm flailed up in a defeated motion. “They sure got us here in this van. While being stupefyingly incompetent. And I hate that.”

“I get what you mean,” Dirk nodded.

Todd looked at him, and then at the back door, and then at the wall separating them from the driver’s seat, and then he sighed and walked up to try the back door. It was locked. Todd didn’t look less annoyed. He returned to the bench to start peeling the film from the window.

“Is this a part of the case?” He asked while scraping at a corner that did come off with his nail.

Dirk pursed his lips. “Ab-solutely no idea.”

“I.” The sound of nail-on-edge-of-film started fading into the background. “Have been thinking about the old woman.”

“Have you now.”

“Have— you know what the hell I mean. And also she’s just weird as hell, like. Not just old-lady weird. Like weird weird. You get what I mean?”

“It’s not nice to judge, Todd.”

“She sent a goldfish after us! And the smell of— God I hope that was fish pellets…”

They talked about the case well into the night, Dirk waving his hands and moving around the space, Todd giving up on the window after clearing three fingers worth of the film. Dirk knew it was about four in the morning when his eyes started to droop and his thoughts lapsed into circles, and when he yawned Todd moved from the bench to sit next to him on the floor. It was pitch black outside, from what they could see through the newly transparent patch of window.

The van lurched to a stop all of a sudden, and a few muffled footsteps later the back door opened to reveal two guns trailing on them. Todd sat up straighter, hands in the air. Dirk, after a few moments, did the same.

“Okay, okay.” Todd said, calm in that exact way someone was obviously freaking out on the inside would be, but Dirk had heard him use this voice enough to recognize it as an act. That, and the fact that Todd was complaining about these individuals’ kidnapping competence mere hours before. “Dirk, he. He told me about the prophecy you guys heard. Whatever it is, we have nothing to do with it, okay? We’re just two dudes, we didn’t know where we were or what the hell that place was, if that’s where you guys do your- your business, we will just. Forget all of it. Not a single word out of our mouth, ever. I promise. Please, please let us go.”

His voice even broke a little at the end. Dirk was… impressed, sure, but there was just a lot to unpack in this situation. He opted to say nothing, open his eyes wide, and nod as frantically as possible. He was nowhere as good at acting as Todd. Todd, with all of his observance and puzzle solving and bluffing, was well on his way to become a real spy.

Their kidnappers, however, were not of the mind to appreciate that. “That’s not happening,” the talkative of the two said, while the other one shrugged. “Dirk Gently’s in the prophecy, and you know our plan now. We just need to be sure you’re not telling on us. Anyway, we forgot to restrain you.”

He trained his gun on Todd as the other lowered his gun to the ground, below the floor of the van, and climbed inside. Todd swallowed heavily and blinked a bit frantically as a zip tie tightened around his wrists. The man grabbed for Dirk next and he went through the same treatment.

They captors were done and gone just as quickly and suddenly as they appeared. After the door had locked on them again and the engine started with an agonizing cough, Todd dropped his shoulders and leaned back against the side with a thunk.

“This is—” He pressed his hands on his face and said with a groan, “the most bullshit. God.”

It had been okay up until that point. Well, as okay as a kidnapping could have gone, as in nobody had shot at them yet, they were still not drugged, Dirk could kind of stand up to stretch his legs, and they were given food at one point. The van didn’t stop, the kidnappers didn’t talk to them, and Dirk was definitely bored.

Todd was… frustrated. He checked the panel under the bench again, looked through the clear patch on the window every hour or so (they didn’t recognize the surrounding, or however much of it they could gleam through the patch), and the rest of the time he practically buzzed with restless annoyance and anxiety. He hadn’t calmed down at all since they got zip tied.

They kept going like that for about another half a day (if Todd’s inner clock was right. Dirk just had to trust him, because Dirk’s sense of time was screwed to hell), and then the van stopped, and the back door opened again to reveal the kidnappers.

“I have a small, irrelevant question,” Dirk said immediately. “What is your name? And your friend’s name, of course. I have been addressing you as ‘the kidnappers’ in my head for too long now, and it’s becoming very distracting.”

Todd stared at him, and he could feel the incredulity in that stare.

The kidnappers looked at each other, and then the talkative one shrugged again. “Adrian,” he said. He talked a lot, but he didn’t emote much. Even his voice was even, like a mirror. “And here’s Jon.”

“Cool! Great! We know each other now, we are getting acquainted,” Todd chimed in, nervousness worked into his voice. “Are you guys letting us go? Or— does, does knowing your names mean we aren’t going? Jesus, god, I. Please. I’m, oh God,” he trailed off, swallowed visibly, and glanced over to Dirk with round, very blue eyes.

“I’m here to talk,” Adrian said, “please calm down.”

Todd stared at the guns, and then at Adrian.

“I don’t shoot if you don’t make me,” Adrian said. He then tried to keep his gun aimed at Todd as he climbed into the van, Jon following suit after he’d sat down on the bench. The gun were very close now. Dirk stared at them, and then at Adrian. And Jon.

There was a very long moment of silence. Again, Dirk had never been proud of his sense of time.

Adrian sat up a bit straighter when Dirk did the exaggerated shrugging motion with an mm-hm in place of a well go ahead then. He was wearing suit, but not good suit. It was a bit large and crumpled and the tie was just noncommittal in a sad way. Jon looked more sporty and organized, if black tank top and black slack could be considered that.

“So,” Adrian said, still as even as ever, “I have taken another look at the prophecy, and—”

“We aren’t really required?” Todd piped up.

“—it seems to point to you,” Adrian again ignored him in favour of gesturing with his gun at Dirk, a motion he really didn’t appreciate, “being a compass of sort.”

Dirk felt Todd tense up a bit at that. It was understandable, given that they had, by that point in time, run into weird people with weird expectations for Dirk seventeen times in total. A worrying majority of those seventeen were very aggressive and… murdery, and exactly only two ever reconsidered their view on his thing. There had definitely been some kidnapping attempts, and a lot of threatening at gun points (well, some threatening at gun points, but in Dirk’s humble opinion, any amount of threatening at gun points is a lot), and, really, the amount of injuries and bleeding resulting from those encounters was just ridiculous. And Todd was there the whole time, got shot at a not-zero amount of time, buzzing with worry and guilt all the way through, complaining extra grumpily, because the seventeen people on the list were just the exact brand of people Todd could not tolerate.

This time around their kidnappers - Adrian and Jon - were shaping up to be another entry on the Stupid Fucking People I Can’t Believe We Have To Deal With list (Todd was usually more precise in his naming, which only serve to highlight how much he really did not like the people on the list); they kidnapped Dirk and Todd, they hit them over the head not in an affectionate manner, they had guns, they followed a prophecy, and just then they were weird with Dirk’s thing. But they also weren’t entirely within the range yet: they hadn’t been incredibly aggressive, and. Well. They were mostly chill, actually. Just two calm, business-as-usual, extremely normal individuals, aiming guns at Dirk and Todd after they hit them over the head.

Dirk reserved his rights to be a bit spiteful about that detail, thank you very much.

Their captors’ precarious position on the cliff above the SFPICBWHTDW list didn’t win them any favour from Todd, however. So far he hadn’t lost any blood, sure, but he didn’t like people that are hard to read. Todd had his neat categories of how to interact with the outside world, as any other adult did, and his sorting system relied a lot on how the other person or people read to him, so he of course didn’t like people who were antagonistic and also hard to read. He couldn’t yet explode the way he would at someone like Suzie Boreton, because these people were just not there in the reaction zone yet, so he had to settle with just being tense and uncomfortable and annoyed and having an all around below average time.

He, of course, carried on with his act no matter his own comfort. Dirk very much wished he wouldn’t, but they were in a van with their wrists zip tied and guns aimed in their general direction, and. Well. Todd’s act was still his actual feelings filtered through a reaction scheme afterall. “Wait, wait wait wait wait— what. What does that mean? A c- a compass?”

Adrian shrugged without even glancing at Todd. “It’s how the prophecy reads. For a man whose gaze points westward is always true to his treasure. West is the prophet’s name, and I got your name from the first letter of every verse.”

Todd definitely did a small, almost unreadable grimace at that. Dirk’s curiosity was piqued, but he told himself firmly do not start with your questioning at gun points and sat still.

“Dude, that sounds like a coincidence,” Todd said with a lot of blinking. Dirk could hear how much Todd didn’t believe in that, but these people didn’t know Todd. “I saw— I saw my name in the first letters of paragraphs in the newspaper all the time! I don’t—” He jumped a bit in genuine surprise at Jon aiming the gun squarely on him, a hint of true animosity actually flickering in the man’s eye. “Hey! I— I just think! I just think that’s a bit of a reach…?”

Adrian shrugged again. He was a video game NPC, and shrugging was his dialogue animation, and it was boring in the most grating way. “Most people are blind to my mission.”

Oh, Todd had so many things to say to that. Dirk could feel how much Todd had to say to that. It was a miraculous feat, one that Dirk knew must have done some kind of damage to Todd’s soul, for Todd to sit still and act like he was dumbfounded and defeated.

“So,” Adrian carried on, “we’ll sit you in the front from now on.”

Hands grabbed Dirk’s arm, and before words could leave his mouth to express how he didn’t like sitting in the front, thank you for the invite but allow him to courteously decline, he could feel the muzzle of one of the gun against his ribs. It was as noncommittal as everything else Adrian did, and oh wow he was starting to resend that with real fervour now.

They of course left Todd in the back by himself, locked in with nothing but empty space and artificial, unnerving, unblinking light for company, and Dirk was seated between Adrian and Jon, and his urge to fidget immediately started to overwhelm him. The view of the road, unobscured by dark film, bright and deserted and cold despite the color of burnt grass and sunlight on the ground, did nothing to calm him down. His attention was divided between all the details his eyes caught, and he retained none of them.

Jon was annoyed with how Dirk shifted between tensing up and squirming. His grip on the gun, still aiming at Dirk from the side, tightened, and Dirk felt both petty triumph and a vague fear over that.

“Where to, Dirk Gently?” Adrian was looking at him. Eyes on the road, Dirk thought, and felt guilty for being a hypocrite.

“Left on the next turn,” he said. “And, um, if I may? On the subject of the prophecy…”

“Shut up,” Jon mumbled. Adrian didn’t seem to hear that, but Dirk jumped slightly at the nudge of the gun against his side anyway.

Adrian tapped his finger on the steering wheel. “I found it in a spam mail. Hidden beneath all the graphics, just plain blocks of words. I was clearing out my late wife’s mail.”

“Very sorry for your lost,” Dirk said politely, and Adrian nodded, as if he was acknowledging and appreciating the proper way a conversation should go when one party mentions a lost loved one. His wife must have passed away for a long time ago, if the smooth evenness of how he brought her up meant something. They sat in silence for a minute, and then Dirk just mentally said screw it and blurted out, “May I hear the prophecy? If you don’t mind, of course,” he added very quickly when he heard Jon huffed.

Adrian used his gun-holding hand (right, he was still holding his gun while driving, of course), to gesture to a crumpled flyer on the dashboard. Dirk looked at him, and then at Jon, who was rolling his eyes, and then he reached over to pick it up.

It was a garishly technicolored flyer for a new convenience store franchise, one that Dirk had never seen or heard of, which might be a bit weird given that Dirk had been back to the States for a few years now, had traveled for cases a lot, and the flyer seemed old but not ancient. In fact, the date on the flyer was three years ago, which meant Dirk could have been there for the grand opening. He did love grand openings. Even though Launda-7 wasn’t the smoothest name on the tongue.

True to Adrian’s words, the verses were printed below the blurry pink-and-ultramarine-blue frame, in small black prints that really wasn’t doing it for Dirk’s eyes right now. He desperately wished for it to be because he was in a van that didn’t feel the most stable, and not because his eyesight was getting worse. All he had to rely on was his perfect eyesight and his incredible friends and his witty charm that didn’t quit.

He gave up reading after four lines. It read like a bad love song. If he could rate the overall experience of reading it on a scale of ten, he would have to take away at least some points.

Adrian finally took the left Dirk told him to, and while watching the road, the clock on the dashboard screen finally caught his eyes. “It’s Thursday,” he mumbled. “Oh God, it’s Thursday.”

He turned around to face the wall separating his seat and the back, persistent despite Jon’s menacing shove of the gun in his side. Adrian spared him a glance.

“Did you get a pill bottle out of any of our pockets?” He asked, turning forward again, knocking into Jon’s gun. Jon was very peeved at that. “Small, orange with white cap, green-and-white pill—”

“Oh, those,” Adrian said. “I don’t remember hanging onto them? Jon probably threw them away along with your phones.”

Jon reacted in some way at that, but Dirk didn’t register it. “Stop the van. I need to see my friend.”

Now Adrian looked at him.

“My friend needs those pills,” Dirk was getting impatient. Or, well, desperate. He felt his own breathing speeding up. “He needs a dose every three days.”

The silence answering him was suffocating.

Dirk pushed over to Jon’s side to grab at the door handle. He could feel the gun on the back of his head, and he could hear the Hey! Both Jon and Adrian let out, but he really couldn’t spare attention for those things right now. He did register the van stopping with a screech and a lurch.

“Mister Adrian, if I may address you as such,” he said, with a calm he didn’t feel, “my friend may very possibly be in the middle of an attack right now, and I would have no way to know, and if you want a single word of direction out of my mouth, you need to let me see him right. This. Moment.”

Adrian and Jon looked at each other, and then Jon groaned and Adrian opened the door on his side. Muffled footsteps again, then the door in front of Dirk’s face opened as well, then he had to sit up so Jon could step out first, and this was taking too much bloody time, and Dirk practically tumbled into the back when the door was unlocked.

Todd was sitting up against the side. He looked at Dirk with the expression that indicated he had just done some snooping around yet again. “Adrian!” was, however, the first word out of his mouth. “Hey, guys! Does this mean—”

“Your friend’s fine,” Adrian interrupted, and he made to grab at Dirk’s arm again. Dirk yanked it out of his reach with a huff.

“No, see, I’m going to stay right here with Todd. You know,” he glared at Adrian, “that if you bring me to the front seat again, I will do what I just did there every few hours. Or every few minutes. Truthfully, I will just immediately kick the door open to run out again the moment you close it behind me. You have my word on the matter.”

Adrian seemed to believe him, because he took a long look at him, then sighed, shrugged, and turned to Jon to say, “Get in the back with them.”

Jon didn’t like that, but screw Jon.

Three people in the back closed the space up to a slightly claustrophobic size, and Jon’s attitude and gun didn’t help the matter. Todd was tense all the time now, which made Dirk hover in a kind of embarrassing manner, but, well. At least he had Todd in his sight again. He always appreciated that, but he appreciated that doubly now because of the many things that had happened and were happening around them.

“So,” Todd said, just the right amount of awkward, and Dirk had the impression only the lack of annoyance in his voice was manufactured, “what were you guys doing at the front?”

“Well, I was being a compass,” Dirk said. Jon didn’t like that they were just talking freely in front of him, but again, screw Jon. “A very dashing, very proper, only slightly unethical one.”

“So you just. Tell them where to go?”

“I work on a sophisticated left-right basis, Todd. I am very accurate within my range.”

Todd’s huff of laughter was true amusement, and Dirk felt his heart (which was beating very violently and relentlessly until now, huh, he hadn’t even noticed) calm down a little bit. He wouldn’t yet bring up the pills. He would probably not bring up the pills. Todd wouldn’t like that he didn’t bring up the pills, but then again, Todd also wouldn’t like being stressed over not having his pills on him, which could trigger a premature attack.

Adrian and Jon’s plus points over other kidnappers they had experienced were rapidly depleting by this point.

Todd also seemed to have something he needed to tell Dirk, which he signaled by huddling a bit closer to Dirk, but Jon’s presence opposite them tied their hands. Metaphorically said, since their hands were still zip tied.

Stars above, Dirk just didn’t like Jon at all.

They stayed like that, Dirk and Todd against the side, Jon on the bench, as day tumbled into night and Dirk felt like his legs would just collapse in on itself like those extendable sticks teachers used to point at the board. Every once in a while Jon’s phone would buzz, then he would ask Dirk for the direction in a tight voice, and Dirk would just choose left or right at random, and he would text that back to Adrian. Todd didn’t say anything, though his act melted into real annoyance in a quite organic way, if Dirk could say so himself. He slumped down to rest his back against the wall again at one point.

Jon’s look on Dirk steeled up more and more the further into the night day they go, and when the van stopped again and Adrian called Jon outside, probably for a rest stop, the disdain with which he threw the sandwiches at Dirk and Todd was palpable. The air seemed ten times lighter after he left.

“I found a— I found Farah’s chip in my jacket,” Todd said hastily the moment the footsteps faded. He held the edge of his windbreaker up to show Dirk something that Dirk didn’t quite catch. “It— ugh, just— your hand!” He pushed the edge into Dirk’s hands, and… Oh. There was a small lump there where the rest of the fabric was smooth. “Those tracker we got from— the Wisecracker case. Farah is probably on the way to get us now.”

Dirk broke into a wide, wide grin. “Brilliant! Great assisting, Todd!”

“That is. Well. Unless she’s still…”

“No way.”

“Yeah,” Todd nodded, amiably, and picked up his sandwich, “you’re right. No way.”

They ate and talked, about the case, about Farah, about the weird creepy old lady with the murderous goldfish (“That tank in her living room really should have tipped us off,” Todd said, but Dirk didn’t find that a fault. Sometimes things just are outside of their imagination, and that is fine). Todd still resolutely didn’t mention their kidnappers, staying true to his promise to not let himself start on the tirade he had been holding back. Dirk felt compelled to honor his promise to not let him start as well.

Too soon the back door opened again - it was light out now - and Jon climbed back in, and Dirk could feel Todd shift into his sullen mode. Which was warranted, because Jon looked spoiling for a fight.

Now that Dirk knew Farah could very possibly be on the way to rescue them at this very moment, the hope and tension competed inside him to make up a giddy mood that perched precariously on the verge of hysteria. Todd’s fuse was burning away in front of his eyes, however, and Dirk grasped onto his own buzzing to clamp it down desperately in order to not add fuel to Todd’s fire. Farah must be close, they had been gone for… three days now. She must be.

When Jon’s phone buzzed, his grip on the thing made Dirk wince. “Left,” he said hastily, just so Jon would stop with that. But, well.

Jon thumped on the separating wall, just a bit violently. Just a bit. “Y’hear that, Addie? He says left!”

Todd and Dirk shared a look.

The phone buzzed again, and whatever text Adrian sent was definitely scathing, because Jon threw the thing at Todd, who had to drop to a side to avoid it. It clattered on the floor between Dirk and Todd, mostly intact, and that blew Jon’s sentiments into double size. He bolted upright only to knock his head on the roof and swear. His gun was lowered, away from Dirk and Todd.

Todd jumped onto the chance with a spite-powered vigor. Dirk yelped and pressed himself into the corner as Todd lunged for Jon’s gun arm, yanking it towards him. They toppled to the floor, gun splayed out in front of them, and the unmistakable flash-and-bang of it going off startled Dirk again. He hazily considered jumping for it as well, but then Jon pushed Todd off just far enough to punch him square across the jaw, and then Todd was on the floor and Jon was sitting up and the gun was on Todd again.

Dirk moved in just as the van halted, the lurch sent Jon into the separating wall, and the bullet grazed Todd’s calf on its way through the floor.

Todd shouted. And again. And again. He curled up on himself, almost kneeing himself in the face while he reached for the wound.

He didn’t stop screaming when Dirk crashed beside him, didn’t recognize Dirk’s arms behind him holding him up until they shook him. “Todd! Todd, look at me!” The pair of blue eyes that met Dirk’s was wide, wide open.

“It’s falling off,” Todd choked on a grunt, “my leg— it’s- it’s cut through—”

“Todd, look at me,” Dirk repeated, and oh, oh no, fear was seeping into his voice as well, this would not do, calm down, calm down— “Don’t look at your leg! Look at me! It’s still there, there’s no hole on it, it’s the attack telling you it’s cut through, listen to me instead.”

Todd swallowed, and his eyes were wet, and Dirk grabbed at the hands he clapped around his calf (his wrists were red and raw, scrubbed by the zip tie) and just held then as tightly as possible. Their forehead knocked together, and Todd’s eyes were screwed shut, and he was hiccuping now. “My—” he gasped, “give me my— my pills—”

Dirk’s heart sank, possibly to where that bloody bullet had gone, deep, deep into the dark earth. “I don’t—” He felt his throat closing up, refusing to deliver the news, stubbornly defying even the facts of the situation, and he opted to push Todd into his chest instead, to just hold him and feel the way he trembled. “I’m sorry, Todd, when they—”

Todd was crying now, and oh God, Dirk really wished he could just tear himself into a million threads and weave himself back into whatever it was that could comfort Todd, wished he could rearrange his atoms into the pills Todd needed. He wished to be Mona instead of himself, just sitting there clinging onto this friend, useless, utterly useless.

This kidnapping officially became the worst one yet.

Jon swore up a storm at it all, and Adrian was standing right outside, and Dirk never wanted to be somewhere less than he wanted to be here right now. “And what’s their deal, these- bunch of freaks !” He only registered that from Jon’s tirade.

Todd was finally winding down, the pain leaving him like droplets of mist, and underneath there was a foreign emptiness. That definitely scared Dirk a bit, so he just pulled Todd in even closer, and waited for Todd to fall asleep as usually the case after unmedicated attacks.

Jon was still seated with them in the back when the van moved again, and he stared at them the whole way.

Todd didn’t fall asleep. He sat slumped in the corner, eyes almost blank, and he was silent. Still as a rock, save for the lurches along with the van. Dirk vaguely picked up the change in background noises - the sounds of other vehicles on the road, and the sounds of people, they were somewhere with actual occupants now - but all fell off his focus save for Todd’s statue-like stillness.

He hadn’t liked many things that happened during the last three days, but this was a new level of dread.

They sat there for Dirk didn’t knew how long, the clear patch of glass on the window brightening then dimming, and finally the van stopped. The back door opened, Jon stood up to usher Dirk out with his gun hand. He then dragged Todd out by his arm, and Dirk almost hit his face on the floor of the van trying to climb in to stop him from doing that.

“He just had an attack!” He said at Adrian’s gun in his face. “Can you people at least act like learned, civilized men?”

Adrian stared at him, and then said to Jon, “Go easy on him.” And then he stared at him some more.

“Are you waiting for me to thank you,” Dirk asked flatly. Adrian had the heart to look slightly ashamed, but he rolled his eyes, just to bring that not-entirely-terribleness to sea level again. Dirk huffed, stood up straight, and turned around to grab at Todd’s shoulder as he dropped down to the ground.

Todd looked at him, and - there was something now where the emptiness was before.

That cleared Dirk’s head just a bit.

They were at a dingy little apartment complex, dimly lit, damp and dank against the red sunset. The stair up to the gate was slippery in a concerning way, and three of the four doors immediately in Dirk’s sight were busted.

They climbed the stairs to the fourth floor. The fourth floor was drastically messier than the ground floor. Paper stuck to almost every surface, practically lining their every steps. The air smelled of mold and rusted steel pipes and wet concrete. Dirk caught the sight of a magazine cover next to his foot, and from there it wasn’t hard to realize that the paper was all magazine pages.

Adrian’s pace quickened, leading them to the innermost apartment. The door wasn’t locked. The inside was covered in the same magazine pages in the hallway, and smelled even worse, a fact that could be explained by the universe’s worst fish tank ever on a counter under the living room’s window. Yes, Dirk had biases against rotting water plants and murky water and a big, uncomfortably human mouth lurking amidst the muddy green hue, but in his defense, he was pretty sure so did fishes and any other living creatures.

Except for Adrian, apparently. He walked up to the tank, checked through it, mumbled ‘okay, this is here’ possibly while cross-referencing in his head the prophecy which Dirk remembered none of, and then just ignored it the same way he ignored Todd. Jon just looked like he didn’t want to be here, and Dirk resent that he shared that sentiment with him.

They waited for something in the living room, Adrian’s gaze moving from the door to Dirk back to the door in regular intervals, while the sun went down outside the window, plunging the apartment into darkness except for the dull glow from the fish tank.

Boredom dulled Dirk’s simmering emotions, and he had started to feel the toll of the last three days on his everything while standing there in a dark, wet, magazine-lined, suspiciously-mouth-like-creature-infested apartment in some city. He looked at Todd, who didn’t look back at him and just continued to be frighteningly silent.

The apartment door opened when Dirk was mulling over breaking his promise to not let Todd start, and they all swung their bodies a bit forward in anticipation. A light shone in from the threshold, then a head popped in, looking from one side of the apartment to the other. It froze when catching Adrian’s eyes.

The gunshot rang clear through wet air before the newcomer could retreat. They fell backward as Adrian walked over, Dirk and Todd following him per Jon’s gun-accentuated nudge.

“Oh my God, oh my God.” The person was half-sobbing on their side on the floor, hand on their shoulder, which - oof, Dirk definitely recalled how a wound like that felt. They were wearing a hoodie, the percentage of their face not obscured by the hood was scrunched up into a Bad Feeling. “I’m so sorry, oh my God— I should’ve, I should have fed the, oh my God—”

Adrian didn’t seem to feel any particular way about the person he just shot in the shoulder (and about that - he was a better shot than Dirk anticipated, an information that raised something akin to molten sugar lava up in his stomach). He stood over them, voice still as even as ever when he asked, “Are you Jorji? Or do you, well, go by Jorji.”

The person clamped their mouth shut, which was a very wise course of action that warranted commendation. Their watery eyes shone under the light of the torch they dropped on the floor.

Adrian sighed. “Bring him inside, Jon.”

Dirk felt compelled to pipe up when the person was in upright position again. “I’m very sorry this is happening to you.” He didn’t really expect a reaction to that, really, the day mustn’t have been kind to them, but their eyes became even rounder when they finally looked at him properly.

“D- Dirk Gently!”

“That is my name,” Dirk said, and then dread fell over him at Adrian’s shift of attention on them. “Oh golly.”

They both duck, Dirk dragging supposedly-Jorji over to a side, as the shot again rang through the hallway. Jorji hit their wounded shoulder against the wall, which knocked the breath out of them, but they regained it fast enough to clamber up the wall when met with Adrian’s unfun end of the gun. Their eyes flashed with terror and hope intertwined as they looked between Adrian and Dirk, and they spilled when Adrian pressed in closer.

“I— I don’t know who you are! I’m not Jorji, I’m not whoever the hell you’re looking for, but Dirk G-Gently is here, so I did things right! I only forgot to feed the fish this morning! Please, it was one time, please!”

They were full on sobbing now, but, well, Dirk just solved the case, so one must forgive him for not feeling the full onset of sympathy at that moment. And also Jorji was the one dropping the book on his head, probably intentionally, so he needed to sort that small amount of spite out first.

Right now he yanked Jorji to a side again to avoid yet another gunshot, his ears full on ringing now, as he called over to Todd. “Todd! Todd! Solved it!”

Todd didn’t react. He was busy with something else. The something else being Adrian’s prophetic flyer.

“Hey, asshole,” Todd said, and for some reason it almost outrang the gunshot itself. “This is fucking Red Hearse.”

Adrian stopped aiming his gun to look at Todd, probably for the first time since he whapped him upside the head in order to be able to drag him into the van with Dirk.

“Excuse me,” he said, blinking in a bewildered manner.

“It’s fucking Red Hearse,” Todd said, his voice trembling with freezing fury now, and the flyer crumpled up even more in his fist. “Third song in their first album, Launda-7. Lead singer Syel West.”

Dirk looked at him, and yet another piece of the case slid in place. “Oh,” he said.

“This is viral marketing,” Todd said, and the temperature in the hallway ought to have dropped at least a few degree Celsius by now. His eyes were bright with something directly opposite of a fever. “You kidnapped, hit, and shot at us, over a fucking viral marketing campaign.”

Adrian seemed surprised, but not that interested, which was becoming more and more irritating by the second now. “Huh.”

Jon, on the other hand, was fuming. “You motherfucker,” he growled. His gun pointed from Todd to Adrian in a wild arc. “Is that fucking it? Is he right? Is he saying the truth, Addie?”

“His truth doesn’t mean much,” Adrian said. “People are blind.”

“People are blind!” Jon barked, at the same time as Todd’s cold, cold “ You’re a piece of shit. ”

Dirk watched, just a tad bit stunned, as Todd walked over until he was only an arm’s length away from Adrian.

“I know your fucking prophet, Addie.” His stance wasn’t steady, but he didn’t look like he was grazed in the leg with a bullet. He looked like he was going to tear the throat out of the first person to touch him right now. “Syel West was my old bandmate. Every morning he opened the door, walked into the living room, said to me ‘we are all dying slowly’, then went and clogged both the sink and the toilet. He was a cesspool of a living thing. The fucking hangers in the closet were out of his reach from how far he’d sunk into the ground. He was a fucking burden on a human being’s soul, and so was his music. And- and from the look of it, no fucking wonder you take his lyrics as a prophecy.”

He inhaled, and Dirk could see him shake, just slightly.

“Anyone with actual human feelings would never entertain the idea of putting themself through listening to a Red Hearse song. But you don’t have actual human feelings, do you, Addie ?” The sneer on Todd’s face was starting to scare Dirk just a little. “Human feelings go out. You just ferment them inside, like fucking surströmming, except not even edible, because now you’re just a walking tower of toxic waste. That’s not a success, no, you’ve— you’ve failed at living from day one, but you’re gonna cope by twisting the truth instead of facing it, right? Your view on the world is unique, your input is unique, yeah, half of Twitter is the same. You aren’t fucking right.”

“I am,” Adrian’s answer was a bit weak, but, well, he was comparing to Todd right now.

“No you’re not !” Dirk and Jorji jumped at the volume. “What you are is a fucking flour sack baby wearing tinfoil hat! You’re delusional, and narcissistic, and beneath us. There is a reason you’re left behind by the word, there’s a rea— there’s a reason why your wife left you, and it does have to do with you looking through her mails by the way! There’s a reason the only person you’ve persuaded into doing this with you thus far is your own brother, and that’s because you act like a cult leader with the charisma of a molding piece of cheese!”

“What—” Jon breathed out a syllable, before Todd whipped around to look at him.

“And you ! No one’s gonna fucking baby you, you overgrown manchild. Normal people don’t feel comfort over being coddled like a toddler and being petulant, as if you— as if you’re in the middle of rebellious teen phase! Normal people don’t swing around a fucking gun while they throw a temper tantrum! You think you’re tough, but you’re spineless, and he got you, he got you good, and— and that’s fucking pathetic because he fucking sucks at getting people! You’re evenly matched. You’re evenly a waste—”

“Shut up!” Jon shouted, and he shot Todd again, under the kneecap this time, and Todd screamed and fell. Dirk could hear himself yell Todd’s name, and suddenly he was between the guns just like Todd, sitting Todd upright again, covering the wound with his hands, saying it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay over and over again, and Todd had his eyes screwed shut but he didn’t stop screaming, and before Dirk realized it the screams had morphed into actual words.

“That’s not how you win a fight, you jerk ass piece of microwave pizza dough! You think you shut your opponents up, but nobody ’s your fucking opponents! No one’s out to ruin you! You made your life into this, the two of you on your own, and you’ll shoot everybody before you know to point your damn guns at each other—”

Todd’s fury was burning hot, and it contrasted with the cold Dirk felt on his back enough to turn his head around and meet Adrian’s eyes, finally wide, finally cold, and Jon was shouting but Todd’s voice still drowned his out, and there were footsteps from the stairs, and Adrian pulled the trigger but Dirk pushed Todd and himself off the bullet’s trajectory, and Jorji was practically crying, and—

—it was hard to tell another gun even went off, but when Dirk had sat up straight again, Adrian and Jon were both already on the floor, Adrian facing up on a pool of his own blood and Jon on his knees, an arm holding his own bleeding shoulder.

“Addie,” he mumbled, half-staring at his brother’s body (they were brothers. Dirk never even guessed that. They were brothers) through shallow huffs of breath.

Farah stood at the last step of the staircase still, breathing heavily, her eyes wide. Her gun had shifted from the corpse to Jorji. “Dirk, Todd,” she said, “oh my God.”

“Farah!” Dirk exclaimed, shaking Todd at the same time. “Oh, thank the stars you’re here… Todd was shot, and he needs his meds, and we all need sleep, but I did solve the case, and now we need to return to the old lady’s place, but first—”

“Let’s stop the bleeding first,” Farah said - she was right in front of them now, kneeling down next to Todd, and she had one hand on Todd’s knees already. Their in-car first aid kit laid open on her other side.

“Excellent plan of action Farah, just what I was about to suggest,” Dirk said, clapping his hands together. Both Farah and Jorji jumped a bit at the sudden noise, but Todd was deathly still again, eyes going from Dirk to Farah back to Dirk without his face ever moving. Dirk chewed on his lower lips.

A pair of scissors was thrusted into Dirk’s hands. “Cut Todd’s zip tie,” Farah said absentmindedly.

Todd’s hands were clasped together, tighter than must be comfortable. Dirk fumbled a bit, but got the blades to line up properly, and with a snip the plastic tie came off.

Todd’s hands didn’t move at all. They stayed clasped together, even as Todd stared at them with a single spare glance to Dirk in the middle. Dirk could tell he was clenching his teeth.

“It’s okay, Todd,” he reminded him, trying to not use the voice that could be easily misheard as talking-to-a-spooked-animal, “It’s alright, we’re not kidnapped anymore.”

Todd fixed his blue eyes on Dirk, and Dirk jumped at the anger still in it.

“If you don’t—” His expression shifted into a grimace, and Dirk was pretty sure he was biting on his own tongue, oh gosh, and for a long moment Dirk feared something coming. The 'nevermind' after, breathless, churned the tension into something else equally heavy. Todd looked down at his hands again, then unclasped them, let them fall onto his lap. He clenched and unclenched them, like he was not sure how they worked anymore. Or maybe he wasn’t sure how the rest of him worked.

“The scissors,” he mumbled, holding up a hand. Dirk brushed aside his nervousness to give him the scissors.

There was the sound of scuffle behind them, and Dirk looked back just in time to see Jorji throw Jon off them. They were dragging Adrian towards the apartment by his legs.

“I need to, I need.” They hiccupped. “I need to feed the fish.”

Jon was fumbling for his gun, but a shot from Farah skirting his hand deterred him. Farah looked over at Dirk, and it took him a few moments to realize she was asking for his input. He swallowed - his mouth was dry. He hadn’t noticed. The discomfort of it couldn’t compete with most things that had happened thus far, both to him and… well.

“Let’s not interfere with that,” he said, cocking his head towards Jorji.

Farah opened her mouth to say something, then closed it, then opened it again to say presumably something else. “Okay. Can you get Todd up?” She stood up after Dirk nodded. “Thanks, Dirk.”

She went to collect Adrian’s and Jon’s guns, while the man looked on in what seemed to be shell shock. Dirk looked at Todd just in time to see Todd’s weary exhale. His expression was still tense.

“Let’s go home, Todd,” Dirk said, gently (ha), to which Todd didn’t reply. He didn’t protest - or react much really - when Dirk draped his arm over the shoulder to pull him into a standing position. The way he gritted his teeth and hissed made Dirk grimace, but he never looked at Dirk.

He didn’t look at Dirk, or Farah when she came back to support his other side, and he didn’t look at them the rest of the way to Farah’s know-someone-who-knows-someone clinic.

“Drive me back to my apartment,” he said the moment they left the clinic.

Farah took a deep breath, while Dirk leaned forward with his hands on his thighs and said, “Actually, I am in a rare post-kidnapping mood that’s just perfect for a sleepover at the office! We still have ice cream in the mini fridge, and we can watch something while doing a review on this case— oh, I never even mentioned the solution to this case! We could start with that—”

The stare Todd was fixing on him effectively shut him up. Todd was still gritting his teeth, and he looked like he was seething now, but there was desperation mixed into the blue of his eyes.

Dirk swallowed.

They didn’t speak for the rest of the way.

When they arrived back at Dirk’s and Todd’s block, Farah followed them up to Todd’s floor. Dirk catched his eyes before the door was slammed on them.

“He had never looked like that before,” Dirk said. His stomach felt both heavy with anxiety and strangely empty. “This kidnapping went very badly, and I am not thrilled about many parts of it, but if there were one thing I’ve had enough of now…” He looked at Farah.

Farah definitely had a headache to worry about, if the way she pinched the bridge of her nose spoke of something. “There’s nothing I can tell you, Dirk. He usually just says what’s bothering him. What happened before I arrived?”

“He,” Dirk worried his lip, “ah, exploded.” He took a breath at Farah’s confused stare. “I think that is the appropriate way to word it. He ‘laid it on’ our kidnappers so viciously they kind of forgot they wanted to murder Jorji. The I-have-to-feed-the-fish person, if you recall.”

“Okay, okay,” Farah palmed her face, “we’re gonna review the case tomorrow. But if he… Okay, I only remember one moment during the two runaway months when he’s… exploded… on someone. But he was done with it then and there. He wasn’t like this,” she gestured towards the closed door, “after.”

Dirk just stood there, fidgeting with his hands. He opened his mouth, but then remembered the way Todd’s words cut off when he told him it’s okay in the hallway. He had an idea of what Todd was going to say. He couldn’t entertain it, not coupled with the way fury lit Todd’s eyes in an all-consuming fire, not when it was already choking him up as a mere suspicion.

Farah sighed. “I don’t want to leave him like this.”

That gave Dirk a direction to go in, and he grasped at it with desperation. “I’ll come in to check on him,” he said, clapping his hands together. “I still have spare keys to his apartment. Once I’ve made it inside, I will keep you updated.”

Farah looked at him, long and hard, and in the end she huffed. “I wish I’m better at this,” she said, softly. Shifting her stance, she took a deep breath, a hand on her hip. “I’ll count on you, Dirk. Send me an update before you go to sleep, okay? If there’s a problem, call.”

Dirk maintain eye contact as he nodded, and only remembered that Todd’s spare keys that he was entrusted with had been confiscated and thrown away along with his phone after she was already driving away.

“I’m climbing the window, Todd,” he knocked on the door and said.

The door opened when he was at the stairs. Todd popped his head out to look for him, and when he saw him walking back to the door again, made an aborted attempt to close it.

When Dirk was there again, hands behind his back, the most genuine smile he could muster on his lips, Todd forced a sigh out of himself. “I’m fine, Dirk,” he said. “Go home.”

“I very much do still want a sleepover,” Dirk said.

Todd brought a hand to his face. “Just— fuck.” That syllable was very heartfelt. “Just tell me what the fuck to say so you’ll go away.” He grimaced at his own words, which was fair, because they were mean. They were vicious, comparable to the words Todd shouted at Adrian and Jon, and they made tears well up in Dirk’s eyes. He blinked them away furiously, pushing the tightness in his lungs and the drop of his stomach away. He was in the middle of something here.

“I’m sorry,” Todd said, a moment later. “But you shouldn’t be here right now.”

“Todd,” Dirk said.

Todd just stared at him, lips pursed and eyes heavy with desperation and dread and anger still boiling, and Dirk couldn’t imagine it felt good to hold onto all that. “Why are you so ready to sit through all of this shit,” Todd mumbled. “What is— what the fuck is wrong with— why.”

“What is the ‘this shit’ you’re talking about, Todd,” Dirk said.

“All of this!” Todd raised his volume again, but he clamped it down immediately when Dirk flinched. “All of— the moment I open my mouth I’m gonna hurt you, Dirk! I didn’t start and it was all swell but then Adrian— and I started and you didn’t, you didn’t, you let me start, and now it’s not stopping ! Even when I look at Farah, even when you’re— right here ! Where I can fucking hurt you and destroy our friendship and never be able to stop myself, because it has boiled over. The fucking filth inside my head has boiled over. It’s— it’s just. Out.”

Dirk stood there, bewildered, as Todd’s breathing slowed even if it didn’t become less heavy. “I need to sit down,” he mumbled, and slid down the door onto the ground.

Dirk also sat down, because he was worried, and also he was still holding back tears. “Todd,” he said.

“Go home,” Todd mumbled.

“Whatever it is inside your head, it’s not filth.”

There was pain, both physically and soul-deep, mixed into the concoction of emotions in Todd’s eyes when he looked at Dirk again. “It’s not good. When you lie, you—” He choked on an inhale. “You learn to see people’s bad sides first. That’s what you work with. And then that’s what you remember of them. And then that’s what threatens to come out of your mouth, at all times. You have t— you have to try to not be an asshole.”

He palmed his face, and his next breath sounded like a sob.

“And now the lid is off, and without it I— you saw. And you—”

“—am still here,” Dirk finished that sentence for him.

Todd didn’t look up at him, but his hands clenched into fists on his thighs.

Dirk scooted in closer. “Here’s my reasoning,” he said, softly, and put a hand on Todd’s arm. “You were kidnapped, you were hit over the head, you went through two attacks, one without aid and one when you’ve missed a dose of medication, you were holed up in a van for three days, you were shot in the leg, and you went through all of that while confronting the people whose company you would never willingly be in. That pushed you over the line, and you ‘boiled over’ as you said. And yet,” he resolutely wiped his eyes with the back of his free hand and finished the speech, “you bit your tongue instead of saying something that’d hurt me. You’d rather close yourself up than risk being mean to me and Farah. This feeling, the anger, seems to take winding down, maybe an outlet, to leave, and I can see it doesn’t feel good to hold onto, but you turn it inward to protect us from it.”

Dirk squeezed Todd’s arm. Todd was looking at him now.

“Before the agency and Farah and you,” Dirk said, and well, he was crying. Slightly. He could still talk. “Nobody has ever been this considerate to me.”

“Your standards are too low,” Todd said.

“Maybe so, but! My point is, to say something is an action, Todd. The content of your thoughts is your business unless you make it mine as well, but your actions affect me visibly. And the result is good, positive, because you are my best friend! I’m your friend, and I want to be, and I appreciate the things you do, and I want to help and check on you, and,” Dirk swallowed. “I’m not leaving.”

Todd looked at him for a long time. He held the gaze, despite his eyes stinging a bit with tears. Todd’s eyes were wet too, but they had grown clearer.

“You’re incorrigible,” Todd said, small and a bit broken up, but fond. “And also sound like a daytime TV psychiatrist.”

Dirk grinned. “I went to a lot of therapy sessions,” he said. “Or, well, I listened in on a lot of therapy sessions. Was in the proximity of. Walked by. May I use your landline? I promised to text Farah, but we did both lose our phone.”

“She’s gonna drive over the moment the phone rings, and she’ll see us sitting here, and she’ll be so disappointed.”

“Then,” Dirk said, his hand still on Todd’s arm, warm, and he felt his heart lighten when the same warm reflected in Todd’s blue, blue eyes, “it’ll be the perfect opportunity for a sleepover.”

“Truth be told,” Dirk told Todd when he settled down next to him on the mattress, Farah already dozing off on the other side, the sound on the laptop they were watching Netflix on lowered to mostly whispers, “I was very impressed by some of the insults you used on Adrian and Jon. They were mean… but inspired.”

Todd snickered. “Thank yourself for it.”

“I, hum, don’t insult people? And definitely not in that fashion...” Dirk stared up at the ceiling.

“It’s not word for word, Jesus. It’s the method. You’re- you’re rubbing off on me.”

Dirk mulled the idea over, and decided that he liked it. “Sounds fantastic,” he said.

Todd’s huff was muffled through the blanket, but the light jab of elbow on his arm was affectionate. It made Dirk smile absently.

“Of course.”

[originalhybridloverfics]

Rememberance Ch12

A/N: Alright, this story is taking another turn for the weird. Traveling to a past life. If that's not something you really like feel free to skip this chapter.

There is definitely some time period inaccuracies and historical inaccuracies. I apologize in advance if that is something that bothers you. Again, if that is the case feel free to skip this chapter.

I'll admit I had this chapter ready for two weeks but I'm nervous about introducing past lives. I'm hoping you won't totally hate it.

Felicity’s heart pounded painfully in her chest however the beat of her heart somehow slower than it should have been, her breath caught in her throat, her chest constricting, struggling to keep her breaths regular.

Was she having a panic attack?

God, she couldn't focus. She stared at Oliver's unmoving form. This was so wrong. She should have been the one to take the potion.

What if they couldn't bring him back? What then?

Oliver couldn't stay dead. No, it wasn't an option.

“How long has it been?” Her voice didn't sound like her. It was empty.

“38 seconds,” Sara answered immediately, she kept watching the timer on her phone ticking down the seconds.

Had it ready only been 38 seconds? It felt like an eternity to Felicity.

Felicity slid down to the floor, leaning against the couch, her energy practically draining from her.

Her palm rested against Oliver's chest, directly over his heart and for every second that she couldn't feel his heart beating was a new crack in her heart, like tiny little fissures.

She wasn’t going to last the two minutes without going insane and she could swear she could feel her energy draining slowly or maybe she was imagining it. Maybe she was just deluding herself.

“Felicity,” Sara said in concern moving to crouch in front of Felicity. “Are you okay? You’re really pale.”

“I’m fine.” Felicity dismissed, her breaths becoming shallow.

“I don’t think you are.” Sara reached out placing her hand against her friend's neck, her brow creasing in worry. “Your pulse is slowing down.”

“Is this supposed to be happening?” Sara shot a look over her shoulder at Talina.

“It’s the bond, her half of her soul is suffocating without Oliver’s half,” Talina stated and Sara’s eyes grew wide. “However she’ll be fine when Oliver is brought back.”

Sara’s eyes shot back to her friend. “Great. Just another 32 seconds before we find out if this dying crap isn’t permanent,” she responded sarcastically.

Talina shot her a look. “You may be skeptical right now but by the time you leave here you won’t be.”

“I find that hard to believe.”  Sara removed her hand from Felicity's neck and stood slowly, taking a step back as to not overcrowd her friend.

Felicity’s breath hitched in her throat, a burning sensation seizing her chest and she instinctively moved as close to Oliver as she could, her other hand landing against his neck, her eyes never leaving him.

“Oliver, I’m here. I’m here.” She needed him to know that she hadn’t left his side even if she knew rationally he couldn’t hear her. “I’m still here.”

Oliver’s eyes snapped open and he found himself in a field surrounded by men hovering over him. “Lord Jonas? Are you alright?”

Oliver pushed to his feet and shook his head to clear it. “Jonas? Why are you calling me, Jonas?”

“That is your name my, Lord." A man dressed in what looked like farming clothes. "Sir, did you hit your head?”

“Jonas!”

Oliver’s head snapped up at the sound of Felicity’s voice, she was moving toward him quickly wearing one of those old heavy historian dresses and her hair was brown instead of blonde and longer with spiraling curls.

“Felicity, what are you wearing?” Oliver couldn’t help but wonder as the men working in the field parted for her, making her way to him clear.

“Jonas, the men said you fell unconscious. Are you alright? Should I send for the doctor?” She reached her hand out, cupping his face.

Oliver leaned into her touch instinctively but tensed as he felt a presence in his mind that was his but wasn’t.

The man ached for Felicity’s touch, her concern, her kindness, her attention but he also sensed that the man resented that he needed her presence like he needed air to breathe.  

It was confusing as fuck and he didn’t know what to do about it.

Instead, he chose to ignore the presence in his mind and focused on Felicity, the only thing that was making sense to him.

“Felicity,” he murmured his hand reaching out to cover hers.

Felicity, however, jerked her hand back as if burned and her once concerned gaze was now hard like stone. “I know you have your other women but I would appreciate it if you would remember your own wife's name.”

“What?” Oliver’s eyes widened. Other women? Wife? “What the fuck are you talking about Felicity?”

“Why do you keep calling me that?!” Felicity snapped,  ignoring his foul language. “Have you for some impossible reason forgotten my name is Megan? I swear by the Gods, Jonas!” She turned away from him with a scowl. “To think I was concerned for your well-being for even a moment! Honestly!!”

“Feli- I mean, Megan, wait.” Oliver moved to follow quickly behind her, his eyes widening as they moved through a beautiful garden drawing closer to a large Victorian house standing in the distance.

Oliver’s steps faltered as Felicity quickly disappeared into the large house. It wasn’t the size that was giving him pause. The Queen mansion was a lot bigger. His family home was a castle.

No, what gave him pause was that the place looked like something out of the history books.

Where the fuck was he? The names? The clothes? This house? The other presence in his mind? The beautiful brunette haired Felicity who wasn’t his Felicity but Megan who was married to him but not him-him?

God, this was so confusing and the only explanation that made any kind of sense was when he drank that potion and died, he somehow woke up in another time and was sharing a body with his past life self.

It was completely insane and should not be possible but what other explanation was there?

Oliver moved closer to the house his eyes shifting to a richly brown carriage that waited in front of the steps and felt the other presence, Jonas he assumed, cringed.

Whoever the carriage belong to it was not a good thing they were here. Jonas was dreading it.

“What’s wrong?” Oliver found himself asking but Jonas refused to answer and instead he felt like Jonas just threw up walls between their conscious minds. “Fine, don’t tell me. I will find out myself.”

Oliver headed up the steps and pushed his way into the large home and heard the sound of voices, tense and feminine, he followed it, pausing in the entryway of a parlor room when he saw Felicity speaking to a woman in a dark purple dress, her hair pinned up, with curls framing her face, the dress was low cut, the top of her bust filling her dress.  

Oliver’s brow furrowed, she looked vaguely familiar which was strange seeing as this was the past but still he could swear he knew her from somewhere.

“Sorry to interrupt but Feli-” Oliver fell silent as Felicity whipped around toward him. “Megan,” he quickly corrected. “I would like a moment alone with you.”

“Oh but you have a guest,” Felicity spoke sweetly. “Your lover of the week has come all this way to see you. Best not to keep Isabella waiting the way you do your wife.”

Oliver’s eyes bugged out of his head. His what now?

The other woman stepped toward him with a smile, her hand reaching up to touch his face, her red painted lips drawing near his. He recoiled back instantly. “What are you doing?”

“Jonas,” the woman protested. “What’s the matter? Are you not happy to see me?” she frowned. “I thought I would surprise you and you would be happy, was I wrong?”

Something clicked as he looked at her recognizing her as an intern named Isabel who had gotten close to his father two years ago.

“I..” Oliver's eyes looked past her, seeking out Felicity and it was impossible to see what she was thinking her expression guarded, her blue eyes were cold. Still, he may not be able to tell what she was thinking by looking at her but he could feel what she was feeling and it gutted him.

He felt like his chest was cracking wide open exposing an emotionally battered heart and he felt like he wasn't enough.

He hated what he was feeling because it was what Felicity was feeling right now.

What his past self had made her feel.

God, he was a fucking asshole in this life.

“Jonas?” Isabel questioned.

Oliver couldn’t pull his eyes away from Felicity. “Isobel you need to leave.”

“Jonas, don’t you think we shou-”

“Leave. Now.” Oliver ordered.

He barely took notice as an older gentleman stepped forward, escorting her out.

“I can’t believe you invited her here into our home.” Felicity shook her head, her eyes meeting his with a look of betrayal.

“I didn’t,” Oliver interrupted. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Felicity laughed but it was not a happy sound. “Jonas, how many more ways do you wish to hurt me?”

He felt Jonas’s guilt, his regret vividly but Oliver couldn’t focus on him when he felt her pain, pain that Jonas, that he caused. “I don’t,” he stepped forward. “I don’t wish to hurt you. Why would I ever want that?”

Felicity's eyes scanned every inch of his face as if she was searching for something, he assumed she found it as she curled her hand around the nape of his neck and arched into him, pressing her mouth to his.

The second he felt her lips on him, Oliver was consumed with intense longing, for her touch, her breath, her taste, her nearness. For her.

He wrapped both his arms around her waist, swallowing her up in his arms, holding her as close as he could, his lips moving over hers. He coaxed her mouth open, walking her backward until her back was pressed against the wall, he pressed his hips tightly against hers.

He licked the roof of her mouth, groaning as his hands moved over his backside, squeezing, drifting further down, one of her hands moved through the strands of his hair tugging sharply and he ripped his mouth from hers groaning. “God, I want you.”

He didn’t understand the look of surprise that over overcame her or the hope shining in her eyes.

How could she not know how badly he wanted her? How he ached for her touch?

He could hear Jonas in the back of his mind, telling him to stop that this was pointless, being with his wife wasn’t possible.

Oliver ignored him because clearly, he had been an idiot in this life. Why bother with another woman when he was married to someone as amazing as Felicity?

Oliver kissed across her cheek, his lips skimming down her jawline, pressing open mouth kisses to her neck, his teeth grazing her soft flesh.

His left hand traveled up, cupping her breast in his hand, massaging, feeling through the fabric of her dress as her nipple hardened.

Her quiet moan was like music, encouraging him to want more.

He felt her hand slide down his chest, moving to cup him through his pants and he frowned expecting to feel himself harden but that wasn’t the case. He wasn’t hard at all. Which didn’t make sense when he ached to be inside of her, to feel her wrapped around him. He wanted to connect with her in the most physically intimate way two people could connect.

“Why have you never wanted me?” Felicity’s hand fell away from him. “Do you hate me because you don’t find me attractive? Is it the reason why you are unfaithful? Because your repulsed to be with me the way a husband and wife should be together?”

Oliver recoiled stumbling back from her words, the sheen of tears in her blue eyes a blade twisting in his chest. “What? No, of course not.”

“Then why? Why is it never me? Why have you never been with me?” Felicity questioned.

Oliver had no idea how to respond, he tried to focus on Jonas wanting to know what the hell Felicity was talking about.

I’ve never been able to make love to her.

He could hear Jonas in his head as if he was speaking directly to him.

You have no idea what kind of hell it is to not being able to make love to your wife who you love with all your heart.  What’s worse is knowing that the woman I love has been with other men who are not me and everyone knows it too. She has made a mockery of me.

Oliver shook his head. None of this made sense. Felicity wasn’t like that. She wasn’t.

Her name is Megan and I both love and hate her. I hate that she’s a reminder that I’m a man who can’t be with his wife. I hate that I had to find in other women what I couldn’t get from her and I hate that she got her revenge on me by sleeping with anyone that finds her attractive and the whole town believe I’m married to a whore. I hate that I'm still in love with her as the day I first saw her.

Oliver felt a wave of disgust hit him so strongly. Disgust for himself. He cheated on his wife because he couldn’t perform. He took his falts out on her having one affair after another and then he had the nerve to condemn his wife for doing the same.

How could he even possibly claim to love her when he treated her so terribly?

He was a hypocrite and didn’t deserve his wife.

God, no wonder, Felicity and he were cursed in the future.

How the hell did the two of them live their lives this way? It was horrible.

Shut up, just shut up, he screamed at Jonas in his head.

“Are you gonna say anything?” Felicity’s voice cracked.

Oliver focused back on her. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. It’s not you. I promise. The problem is me.”

“I don’t understand what that means.” Her brow furrowed. “I thought all of this was because of me.”

Oliver seriously wanted to kick his own ass. “No, you’re perfect. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. Don't blame yourself because of me.”

If she was perfect, she wouldn’t be sending out love letters to every man she fucked, making our business public!

It took everything in him not to snap at Jonas.

He hated Jonas. He was the reason for the pain embodying Felicity, the hurt in her eyes when she looked at him.

It was unforgivable. Unacceptable.

Jonas did not deserve her. He didn’t deserve to be married to her, he didn’t deserve to have her in his life and he sure as hell didn’t deserve her tears.

The self-loathing he felt for someone who was supposed to be him was overwhelming.

He wanted to protect her from ever feeling like there was something wrong with her. He wanted to protect her from the pain she felt.

More than anything all he wanted to do was protect her even from himself.  

He looked back up feeling her watching him, she held her arms around herself like a shield.

He cursed Jonas in his fucking head, he reached for her his hands grasping her face. “Look, we will work this out. I just need a moment to gather my thoughts and then we’ll talk and we’ll start over.”

Felicity’s brow furrowed. “Start over?”

“A fresh start.” Oliver pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. “Just give me a few minutes.”

“Okay.” Felicity nodded.

Oliver smiled softly and brushed his lips against her cheek before turning, making his way out of the room.

He wanted to go outside find somewhere he could rant and yell at Jonas where no one would see him because he didn’t want to look like a crazy person, yelling and arguing with himself.

However, he scowled when he stepped outside. Isobel was there leaning against her carriage, waiting.

“I told you to leave.” Oliver glared.

“What is wrong my love?” Isabel asked, joining him on the steps.

Oliver visibly cringed at the endearment and he honestly felt like throwing up.

“I thought now would be good a time as any to tell Megan the truth and then we can start our life together.” Isobel's hand landed on his arm and he jerked back from her touch.

“Start our life together? What the hell are you talking about?!” Oliver demanded sharply.

“I want to know the same thing.”

Oliver whirled around and saw Felicity standing there looking so uncertain but guarded at the same time that it had his chest constricting in pain. He hadn’t heard her come outside. “I don’t know what she is talking about.”

“Yes, you do,” Isobel stepped forward. “Oliver is divorcing you so he and I can be married and start our life together.”

Oliver blanched as Felicity paled considerably.

“What?” Felicity asked in a shaky tone that had Oliver’s focus completely on her.

“I can explain,” Oliver said immediately. He had no idea how he was going to explain. None of this was his doing. It was Jonas and Jonas, that guy was a fucking idiot and asshole.

“I can’t believe I actually thought things would be different.” Felicity shook her head before spinning on her heel and disappearing back inside.

“No, wait!” Oliver protested, he barely took a step before he felt Isobel grab his arm.

“Let her go. Soon you will be free of her.” She murmured, drawing closer to him.

Oliver snatched his arm away from her. “I don’t want to be free of her. I want to be free of you. This,” he waved a hand between them angrily. “Whatever it is, is done. We are done.”

Isobel’s eyes widened, her jaw dropping in shock.

Oliver didn’t wait for a further response as he headed back inside calling over his shoulder. “Leave! Now!”

Oliver caught a flash of blonde hair and ran to catch up with her. “No, wait,” he caught her arm just as she turned to head up a spiraling staircase.

She whirled around, wrenching her arm back out of his grasp. “Don’t you touch me.”

Her voice was flat, cold but all he could see was the wet sheen in her eyes and the way her bottom lip trembled, the way her breaths were shaky.

“Please, I’m sorry. I -”

“You're sorry?” Felicity demanded. “Why did you even tell me you want things to be different? Why kiss me like you actually care about me when you are planning on divorcing me?”

Oliver faltered. He knew why he kissed her because he wanted to but he couldn’t fathom how Jonas could even consider divorcing her.

“Do you love her?” Felicity demanded.

“Who?” Oliver asked.

“Isabella?!” she snapped. “Or anyone else you happen to enjoy being with more than trying to have a real marriage with me.”

“No, of course not,” Oliver answered immediately but it wasn’t just him he was answering for. He could feel that Jonas despite being unfaithful only loved his wife.

A tear slid down Felicity’s cheek. “Somehow that’s worse. You know, I will be ruined when you divorce me but still, you’re going to do it. Do you really hate me that much?”

“No, no, no. Of course, not.” Oliver shook his head but she jerked away from him.

“Stop, just stop, Jonas. I’ve heard enough,” she said lowly and he stopped, she sounded so defeated so unlike the Felicity he knew. It was clear to him being married to his past self had broken her spirit.

He watched her go, wanting to go after her but not wanting her to be hurt more by him.

She stopped suddenly near the top of the steps. “Feli- Megan?” he called out.

Her hand shot out for the banister, her finger’s just grazing the wood as she stumbled back her foot slipping off the edge.

“Felicity!” he ran up the stairs to catch her but he wasn’t fast enough, she hit the stairs, her body spiraling down, crashing into his sending them both down the flight of stairs.

Oliver instinctively felt his body wrap around her trying to shield her as much as he could. They landed at the bottom of the stairs in a tangle of limbs.

“Felicity?” Oliver quickly disentangled from her and rolled her gently onto her back to find she was unconscious. “Baby, C’mon. Wake up.” he cupped her cheek. “C’mon, you’re fine.”

“My lord, what happened?!”

Oliver’s head snapped up to see one of the house staff. “Get help! Now!”

“I’ll send for the doctor right away!”

Oliver looked back down to Felicity, placing his fingers to her neck, relieved that her pulse was steady and strong.

Still, he couldn’t feel relief Jonas was panicking and terrified for his wife.

Oliver thought he deserved to feel the fear, maybe then he would wake up and realize everything he was losing.

Oliver paced outside the master bedroom Jonas shared with Felicity or Megan as her name was in this life.

The doctor was inside, looking her over, she had regained conscious right before the doctor arrived only to get sick, Oliver had rushed to hold her long hair back to not get puke in the strands.

When the doctor arrived he had her moved to the bedroom so he could examine her thoroughly and find out what was making her ill.

Jonas was on edge in the back of his mind. He was convinced Felicity was pregnant with another man’s child because this wasn’t the first time she became faint and lost consciousness.

Oliver was tempted to find some booze in the hopes of calming his nerves and shutting Jonas up.

If she was indeed pregnant with another man's baby he only had himself to blame for not being a better husband.

It was almost an hour before Dr. Whilmer stepped out from the bedroom closing the door behind him.

“How is she?” Oliver asked immediately stepping forward.

The doctor looked at him. “I had thought by the frequent dizziness and how she was getting sick that she was with child but that’s not possible.”

Oliver's eyes narrowed as the doctor looked at him like something was wrong with him and not Felicity. “What do you mean?”

“Your wife is untouched.” Dr. Whilmer looked at him like he was a freak. “A virgin.”

Oliver didn’t care what Whilmer thought of him all he could focus on was that Felicity had not been unfaithful like Jonas had believed.

Jonas who had fallen silent in his head, Oliver felt intense regret coming from him in waves.

Jonas had been wrong about his wife. She was not unfaithful, everything he thought he knew about the kind of wife he believed her to be was a lie. And he was not taking it too well.

“If she’s not pregnant? What’s wrong with her?” Oliver questioned worriedly.

“She is ill. I believe she-”

Oliver pushed past the doctor upon hearing she was sick, pushing the bedroom door open and moving to Felicity’s side, he brushed her hair away from her face.

Her eyes fluttered open as his knuckles brushed her cheeks. “Hey,” Oliver murmured softly.

“Please,” she whispered.

“Anything.” Oliver didn’t know what she was asking but he knew he would give her anything she asked for.

“Don’t divorce me.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I would be ruined, don’t do that to me, please.”

“I would ne-” Oliver choked off, suddenly it was like he couldn’t breathe his vision blurred as he felt a vicious pull from deep in his chest.

“Oliver, come back.” he could hear Felicity’s voice like a faint whisper in his ear. “You have to come back to me. Oliver, please.”

He was helpless to her plea, he looked down at the Felicity in front of him, at Megan and pressed his lips to her forehead just as he felt like he was yanked out of his body into nothing, everything going black, losing all sensation.

Felicity pressed her hands harder over Oliver’s chest. “C’mon, Oliver. Don’t do this. Come back to me.”

Tears filled her eyes as nothing changed, he wasn’t breathing, his heart wasn’t beating and he wasn’t opening his eyes.

Sara watched, her chest tightening, she sunk against the floor.

Felicity had been trying for what felt like forever but really was only a few minutes but with every minute he was gone she grew weaker and more desperate.

“Oliver.” she thrust her hands down over his chest. “Please.” she pressed down again, harder, faster. “Please, I am begging you, please.”

Felicity felt him on a level more than physical just seconds before his mouth opened on a gasp sucking in air, his eyes shooting open.

Felicity's breath left her in a rush, the feeling of relief so overwhelming that she felt like crying and laughing in honest relief at the same time, her lips trembled as she cupped his jaw gently in her hands. “Hi,” she breathed softly.

Oliver sat up slowly, his eyes never leaving Felicity, her eyes were shining with unshed tears, and he could feel she was struggling not to cry, her soft 'Hi' had warmth spreading through him.

Seeing her brought everything he just experienced rushing to the surface, that he had somehow been transported briefly into his past life who was a fucking asshole and he had an amazing wife who he was on the verge of losing.

It was such a relief to see his Felicity and not see her eyes filled with resentment, pain or hate.

All he saw in her eyes was concern. For him.

“Felicity,” he reached up cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing her soft skin as she leaned into his touch.

Felicity placed her free hand over his on her cheek. “Welcome back.”

“You brought me back,” Oliver murmured. It was her voice calling him back to her that broke through everything.

“I would do it again.” Felicity's voice was firm, despite the way he could feel her shaking beneath his touch. She was still afraid of losing him despite the fact that he had come back to her.

He couldn’t stop himself from surging forward, his mouth crashing against hers. The second his lips touched hers it felt like coming home and he never wanted to let that feeling go.

A/N: Let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!

Tags: @6i66leserna @angelamccauley15 @almondblossomme @ilikethebackofyourneck @omglovechrissie @erika-amber @rainbowuniquern @scu11y22 @msbeccieboo

[writingwitchly]

Fate knows how to be cruel

JILY CHALLENGE | October 2018 | angst | @wizardingworldwaitforme vs. @lovesickjily​

@jilychallenge prompt: “I didn’t expect you to wait forever. I just hoped…” au where lily breaks up with james because he is being attacked for dating a muggleborn, they later meet at an order meeting during the war and he is engaged to someone else

Word count: 9.4k (yeah, i’m proud)

Warnings: A LOT OF SERIOUS SH*T, PLEASE BE READY. death, blood, angst, language, etc.

A/N: I. DON’T. KNOW. 

***

Her diminished pupils, flooded in the last half-hour, were now dryly scanning the broken reflection that defied her.

Her intense green eyes, usually praised as very attractive, had become two dark pits, surrounded by red, tense skin. From her mouth, reduced to a pale split line, the rests of her anguish were escaping under the form of convulsive sighing, of air that her lungs did not manage to catch. The red maine she had inherited from her mother was plastered on her wet forehead, rebelling itself on some places by sticking out in messy knots. Her grayish cheeks were the vision of sickness itself, a sickness that comes from deep down in the chest, that roots itself cruelly in the flesh of the heart.

The cracked mirror, result of a very violent waving of her wand, was hanging loosely on the wall, throwing disdainfully at her tired body this vision of herself she had never adopted before.

Some months ago, nobody would have believed it possible for one of Hogwarts’ most promising students, exemplar Gryffindor prefect and thrice alumnus of the year, to find herself in such a situation.

Still, there she was, choking on her pain, raging at herself and the world, back at her desk, and writing her name at the end of the letter. She was signing her death sentence with her favorite quill.

The paper was heavy in her hands. The inked words weighted like lead on her lungs. She whistled a faint sound, and felt the air moving in her back.

Sealing the envelope and tying it to the frail leg was too hard. She had to start over twice, and scratched her wrist in the process, opened a new wound on herself. One more she’d have to cure, but would have no force to.

Her walk to the window, with the owl perched on her shoulder, seemed longer than one’s walk through life. Her fingers mechanically thrust the window open, scaring the bird.

The world was cold, freezing. Her soul too.

The owl’s piercing look searched its owner’s, but she pointedly avoided it, gazing at the clouds. If she allowed herself a moment of doubt, she’d never do it. The burning flame of courage in her stomach was faltering every day more, since this bloody war had started.

Sometimes she wondered, how could she not, why she had been sorted in the house of the braves. She had nothing of a Gryffindor, after all. She was demonstrating to be a coward. She wasn’t even doing this in person.

The bird let out an irked hoot, and turned toward the outside. It waited a few more seconds, implying that this was the only moment for her to step back on her decision. She almost did.

When the pair of sandy wings became a barely visible point on the dark roof of the night, the moon alone heard the shattering of the girl’s soul, the signal that her pure existence, already filled with too many sharp despair, had been attacked one time too much.

As she felt that her life was over, as her knees buckled under the weight of her past and future, the wind and stars united to mourn her innocence, screaming her name

***

What a coward.

The headquarters were full.

There had been another Muggle attack recently.

The Order’s meeting were a drag. Most of all, if Slughorn had to add a motivational speech at the end. His voice, in the best of the cases, was a muffled buzz that invited to fall asleep on the spot. The rest of the times, it just made you want to drink death potion.

The dark corner at the far end of the room seemed to be a very good place for rummaging dusty thoughts from two years ago, oblivious of what happened in the world around.

Maybe this was where Mad Eye stored his negative energy, in case he ran out of it.

What a fucking coward.

But, to be honest, it was not the place’s fault if Lily was feeling downhearted. It had become a habit of hers, to constantly be in the doldrums. She had erased the words happy, fun, joy -- and any synonym -- from her daily life.

All that mattered was to fight.

Nothing else.

Still. What a coward had she been.

It had happened ages away, back when she still could manage to worry about what was going on in her chest, in that place that she could not bring herself to name now.

Not even the flickering light bulb on the decrepit roof distracted her from remembering everything clearly.

The facts, the tears, the pain.

The reason.

She felt the urge to fracture a couple of Death Eater’s bones, but all she could do was to keep ruminating.

After sending him the letter, she had tried to hate him. For who breaks up successfully with the person they love? This type of separation never lasts long, and she didn’t want that.

Fate is strong, but Lily’s character too.

She had slowly managed to erase him from her life, half by shutting herself to the world, half because of why she had shattered their link.

It had been the right decision to take. She needed protect their friends, their security, their future.

She’d thought that, yeah. That it was the best to do, for her and for

...him.

He crossed the entrance with that characteristic nonchalance of his, talking loudly, not giving a blatant damn that Slughorn was still halfway through his speech. Sirius and Peter were behind him, laughing without hiding it, their clothes and hair and faces as Lily remembered them from the last time she had seen them, on King’s Cross platform: messy, but communicating mischievousness and a great will to live.

Exactly what she lacked.

She was not the only one staring at the young men. Two or three attendees had swung round, wandering who was arming hell behind there, and were now nudging their neighbors, appalled looks on their faces.

Whispers of wonder and astonishment rapidly covered the boring speaker’s words.

“What, they’re back!”

“Look at their smiles! The mission was a success, it’s sure!”

“Finally! Dumbledore must have found a way.”

“May Merlin hear your words, Agatha.”

“Almost two years out of the country, poor lads.”

“Looks like Albania didn’t educate Black and Pettigrew better than England had.”

“But it surely did a great job with Potter.”

James’ hair, surprisingly, was not storm-like; his glasses were not dangerously hanging from its point of his nose, but had somehow settled up on its bridge. His shirt was carefully inserted in his pants, which had been ironed, so could impossibly be his. His face was scarred in some places, but it was easy to notice the presence of proper baths and skin care on his regular traits.

This could not be James Potter.

The most shocking part of his appearance, to Lily, were his shoelaces. Leather strings, tied properly.

Reluctantly, she was reminded of that chilly pre-Christmas exams time of her sixth year.

This was already a period of doubt in the wizarding world, and the Gryffindors had decided to strengthen the solidarity bond with Yule gift. It had been Mary’s idea to write the names on a piece of paper, introduce it in a bag, and make everyone secretly draw one out. To Lily’s despair, she had caught that one paper she dreaded, the only one she’d have died to avoid. At that time, Potter still was the biggest pain in the neck ever for Lily. At least, that’s what every student got to hear daily.

The day to leave Hogwarts for the end-of-year holidays arrived, bringing along the deadline for the present giving. 

As Remus told Lily later, James had found a  tiny pack on his bedroom table, which wore no name, no mark that could tell him who had been his secret Santa. But by gradually removing everyone else from his list -- “Oi Pads! Next time you give me socks, at least watch out for matching sizes!” “Marlene! Who’s the fucking idiot who told you I like ice tea?” --, the boy had reduced his possible suspects to only one person. 

He had looked for her morning long, but had resigned himself to open the gift alone on the train Platform, after his fruitless searching.

Still, lily had never been very far, just hiding well. From the corner where she was watching him, ashamed of what she had done, Lily had seen the pair of formless, ragged pieces of thin rope being taken out from the wrapping paper. She had gulped down hard, wishing he would just throw them under the locomotive, consider it a prank. She had wanted to scream at him that “See Potter, that’s how important you are to me,” even if she was not sure she really felt this way.

But something incredible had happened. James had called the other Marauders, had gestured something to them, pointing to his feet, his face flushed with excitement. Sirius had rolled his eyes, but Peter had patted him on the back gently, and had helped him to fix the strings on his shoes. The four of them had laughed, James more drunkenly than heartily, and he had then cried out to the crowd, “Look at this, Evans! Best gift I’ve ever received!”

Lily’s stomach had done a 360 degrees flip, and she had bit her lip, trying to force herself into believing that he was just joking.

“Never gonna see me without ‘em!”

And she had never.

Until now.

Her eyes unconsciously trailed up his figure, until they came to rest on his shining smile. Her look met his, and the smile disappeared.

An unpleasant heaviness tied her throat.

For the first time since she was 18, she realized that her strong will had failed. The last two years’ efforts had been completely useless.

And for the first time since she was 18, she felt a ray of hope warming her face

But Fate knows how to be cruel.

The world seemed to spin in slow motion when a blonde girl, whom Lily had never seen before, stepped in the room. Sirius greeted her, and James’ eyes abandoned Lily’s to settle on the newcomer.

His grin came back. He opened his arms to welcome her.

The redhead felt a pang between her ribs, in that place she hadn’t considered for months.

It had taken her only one second to feel her heart come alive for the first time in two years.

And one more to murder it all over again.

Leaving behind a crowd in growing agitation, Lily sped off down the hallway.

He didn’t follow her.

***

She had seen the message earlier in the afternoon.

Which, to be frank, had been a real luck: she wasn’t opening her post anymore. She barely even ate.

But receiving an envelope with the red Hogwarts’ crest at the age of twenty meant that something serious was going to happen.

So she had read, understood, and followed the instructions.

And now she found herself gazing at the dark walls of the Ministry of Magic, armed, and ready to fight.

Ready to- give everything.

Go big or go to the grave.

The call came from some hundred meters behind her. “Evans!”

Kingsley had always been a good speaker, with that loud voice of his. In the times when they still called each other by their first name, she imagined him to become a radio presenter. Instead, he wore the Auror’s colors now. And had been promoted as a secondary leader of the Order.

Still, maybe, after this fucking war…

“Are you going to daydream for long? You’re the last one.”

Lily shook her head to get out of her drowsiness, and sprinted toward her group leader. He looked at her with a critical frown. “You should gulp something down more often, Evans.”

And they were off toward the other end of the somber corridor.

“How many of them?”

“Our sentry counted twenty to the meeting this morning. Cobra confirmed the hour of the attack.” Cobra, their double agent. They only disposed of one, and hoped they were not infiltrated as well. “We secretly evacuated the employees and officers in the early afternoon.”

“How many of us?” She knew the answer. It was the same every time the whole squad was convocated. She just liked to have all the information confirmed.

“Eighteen.”

A mechanical nod of approval, but then- “Eighteen?”

“Eighteen,” repeated Kinsley’s strong voice. “Eighteen.”

Deep below his still tone, there was some embarrassment.

For fuck’s sake no. Not tonight.

But Fate knows how to be cruel.

She first saw Peter, a grimace of utter worry stamped on his face. He looked ready to die. Not by fighting, but of fright. He did not grin at her when their glances bumped, but lowered his head.

Sirius saw her, but acted as if not. Of the Marauders, he had always been the one who liked her less. He was still angry at her for deserting them, causing another anguish to their group of friends.

From the bottom of her heart resurfaced the desire that Remus had come back from his mission too. She was selfish, but she would have given anything to have him as the third add to the squad.

As she thought this, James’ face came into focus, ten steps away. Right where Kingsley was pointing.

“But-”

He glared at her. “The orders don’t come from me, Evans.”

She reluctantly wished him good luck, and headed towards her fight partner.

Standing next to him gave her goosebumps.

“Evans.”

Cold, indifferent greeting.

“Potter.”

Erased, bitter answer.

Lily felt James shifting his weight from foot to foot. Their breathing was distressed.

“Listen to me everyone!” The leader’s words echoed in the huge, nearly lifeless hall. “The orders for this mission are clear: protect the ministry at all cost. I don’t care how you do it: fight until you are not able to breathe anymore. Do not pay attention to the rest of the team, be the only one standing if it has to be this way. Reinforcements are planned to arrive.” He marked a pause, fixed each member of his group, each soul under his charge, knowing that he may never see them again. “And please, do your best to not fucking die.”

There was no clapping, no murmur of approval. You don’t acclaim what can be the most final goodbye.

“You wrote.”

The words slipped off her tongue in an unauthorized murmur. She mentally punched herself.

“You didn’t write back.”

She had sworn she wouldn’t.

All lights were off. The silence was sluggish. The air was suffocating.

It was not her first operation of defense, but a sense of uneasiness was crawling up Lily’s lungs. She never had to fight in almost complete darkness before. A good pair cooperation was going to be crucial.

Great, she’d probably die tonight.

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t intend to say goodbye to life right today, Evans.” James’ voice was full of assurance. “So if you could please avoid to hit me square in the chest...”

He really thought that she hated him.

Everybody thought so.

That’s how she had made her letter sound.

A blonde silhouette hovered before her eyes for the fraction of a moment.

“Just fucking fight, you prat.”

And the conversation was over.

The first flash of electric green ripped the stillness seconds later, but the real shock shook them when somebody screamed.

At least two dozens of black draughts circled the members of the Order, and materialized in masked, caped shapes. The impact of red and blue lights was immediate, and chaos erupted.

Rolling down to the floor, Lily avoided a stupefy thrown her way, and poured all her rage in a bright orange spell. A strangled sound confirmed that she had hit her target.

“Expelliarmus!” shouted James from her side. He threw himself to the ground too, when his missed aim replicated. Lily saved him by conjuring a shielding charm, but couldn’t avoid the intense shot of purple that hit her in the ribs.

At first, nothing. Then, everything.

A snake of fire formed in her veins, consuming her skin. A searing blade was tearing her insides, her hands were attacked by invisible knives, her throat scratched by razors at each call for misericord. Her flaming hair cruelly danced around her, threatening to choke her already impossible breathing. Her bones were exploding, her mind was becoming something else. A burnt smell travelled in the atmosphere, her vision was masked by red sparks of suffering.

They always tell you horrific things about the cruciatus curse. They never approach the truth.

She could not think, nor react. She was a broken doll in some atrocious kid’s hands.

Her screams filled her attacker’s ears like a gong of victory. He savagely flicked his wand, enjoying the sight of the contorsionating girl.

He paid his barbarity too cheaply.

“Avada kedavra!”

Still harboring an ugly smirk, Adam Rosier became James Potter’s first victim, collapsing on the ground as the meaningless mass he was. The young wizard spat in the Death Eater’s direction, leaving for later his reaction to the shock of killing somebody.

He ducked a lost red flash, and ran to kneel down next to his partner’s motionless body. He prayed under his breath that she hadn’t died right here and now, before his eyes, because of him. His forehead was pale skin under a coat of sweat.

He grabbed her wrist, felt only a faint pulse, muttered a spell, prayed harder.

“Potter!” Kingsley’s voice was barely audible through the wall of imprecations and incantations, even though he was his closest ally. “Potter! What the hell! Get up and fight!”

No time to explain him about Lily, he would not have listened anyway. The orders were clear, and Kingsley was a man shaped by rules.

James sent him to hell, and took the girl in his arms, wrapped in occasional bursts of light.

He made it to the nearest hiding he could find, a wide crack in a wall, with a deep burn in the back and a bleeding eyebrow, but ignored them at his best. He carefully laid the witch on the fissured floor, waved his hands above her head, and breathed a couple of curing charms.

An explosion resounded, the ground quaked. Dust and little stones fell from the roof, hitting her face like solid rain drops.

“Please, Evans, don’t be a bitch and stay alive.”

He risked himself to shake her shoulder.

A groan escaped her throat, and James almost fainted of relief when her eyelids slowly raised.

“What the-” Her feverish eyes opened widely, and she sat up in a urge, releasing the content of her stomach on the concrete ground. Her face was the same color.

Another violent tremor shook the building, and the man had to force his throat shut.

When Lily’s retching came to an unsure end, her back found the floor as a support.

Her breath was heavy.

“Are you ok?”

Now, what a dumb question. Of course she was not.

She didn’t answer.

Lily had never imagined that she would meet James Potter again under these circumstances. It made the whole situation worse.

She had left him broken, two years ago. She had disappeared, leaving scars all over his soul. Yet, there he was, saving her life.

This was one of the things she had struggled the most to hate in him, when time had come to force herself out of their relationship. His unconditional kindness, his generous thoughtfulness. He was ready to believe in anybody’s redemption, providing excuses to the most irrational behaviors.

Through the blurry curtains of her pain, Lily distinguished his creased brow. Of course, he was preoccupied. He couldn’t hold any grudge, had to forgive everyone. Even when they killed him in the inside.

Why the fuck did he always have to be so- himself?

Lying, pale like a blanket, she wore that severe expression that implied she was on the edge of exploding.

A blonde face smiled at her. She blinked, and it was gone.

“Did you just call me a bitch, Potter.”

It was not a question, nor a joke to release the tension. He felt it.

“I just saved your life, Evans,” he defended himself.

“You are disobeying the orders.”

Their eyes met for the first time that night. It felt like a clash.

“So what, I should have left you at that monster’s mercy?”

“Exactly.”

James pushed his glasses up his nose with a raging gesture.

“You know what, Evans? I may actually consider you to be a bitch. And I surely have a hundred reasons to. Do you realize that it’s the first time we have a conversation since our- since our last day at Hogwarts?” There was badly disguised pain in his words. “Do you realize that, maybe, I have some questions?”

From the breach on the wall, some bits of the fight penetrated their safe place.

Lily stumbled up.

“Where do you think you’re going now?” James’ voice was irritated, but also preoccupied. He hadn’t brought her all the way here to see her fall again out there.

“Have you really not heard the bloody orders, Potter,” she answered, leaning on the wall to chase away her dizziness. “Get your scared ass in the tussle and fight.”

“But you can’t possibly think t-!” She was already out of reach of his words, moving toward the core of the collision. “Damn it, Lily!”

She heard him running toward the center of the mass a few seconds later.

“Confringo!” Her blue sparkle hit one of the enemies straight at the heart, and she stupefied another one shortly after avoiding his attack.

Feeling that agony inside her had heightened her expectations of sufferance, and she thought of nothing as she walked more dead than alive through the web of curses.

She was angry at the world, at James Potter, and at herself.

“Avada ke-”

Her words were cut off by the sudden disappearance of her target, leaving her baffled. She looked for another Death Eater to aim at, but could find none alive in sight.

She heard Kingsley’s confused imprecations, joined by Alice’s, and James’ sharp inhalations neax to her.

The temperature had dropped considerably.

“You have lost enough.” The treacherous voice snaked its way to her ears like a repulsive melody invading her mind. “If you give up now, you will be rewarded. Lord Voldemort is not insensible to courage.”

Several looks scanned the room, but the semi darkness prevented anybody from seeing farther than a few meters away.

A glacial laughter resounded in her head.

In prey of a terrible presentiment, Lily focused on counting the living people remaining in the hall, all members of the Order. One, two, five, ten, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. Fifteen! Maybe she had just counted wrong. Again: one, five, ten, fifteen.

“You have until the count of three to surrender,” the voice explained, freezing her blood. “Or else you will all die.”

A bright light illuminated the air, forcing Lily to protect her eyes with her hand.

Her limbs stiffened.

Three bodies were suspended in the emptiness by a magical rope tied to their chest.

Three faces were decomposed in fear, bathed in this raw light.

Amanda, Drew, and Peter were hanging twenty meters above the ground.

Lily had found her three missing teammates. Panic was boiling between her temples.

Peter emitted a strangled squeal that shook her from her apathy. His eyes, out of their orbits, were fixing a point behind the group.

“Face me, members of Dumbledore’s army! See the traits of the man that will end your miserable existence if you don’t bend to him!”

When she swung round, a cry escaped her mouth.

The body was draped in black, floating in mid air. The face was thin, blueish, bore no nose. The fingers were long, bony, holding a menacing wand. The eyes were a snake’s, of an intense red.

The smile was sharp, victorious.

She was staring at the Dark Lord in person.

“I advise you to surrender,” The voice did not reach Lily through her ears. It came from between her ribs, from the center of her bones. “Now.”

Lily felt James’ body tensing centimeters away from hers, but the menace received no answer.

Despite the fear, the orders were clear.

“Good,” the Dark Lord’s voice echoed, with a cynical trace of amusement sketched in it. “So let the countdown begin. Nagini!”

Lily’s knees trembled.

Whatever Nagini was, it came slowly, imperceptibly, quietly, like death itself.

They didn’t see it, but they could feel its presence to their left, their right, everywhere. The creature’s aura trapped them, froze them. It was as if a spell had been casted on the room, preventing any movement. Any smell, any sound, had disappeared from the world.

The wizards couldn’t even hear their own shaky breath.

Time had stopped.

“One!”

A shout of despair recalled Lily’s attention on the point where the hostages were hanging.

Faster than a bolt, a long, scaled form had coiled down the first rope. Amanda’s face, which had been deformed in horror, was now still, her pupils vitreous. On her neck, a hideous mark was drawn in blood.

The aftermath of the cruciatus hit Lily hard in the stomach, and she felt like throwing up again.

Her arms couldn’t move, she was paralyzed.

“Two!”

She saw Drew’s last desperate look falter on his traits.

Heavy drops of cold sweat slided down her spine. She gathered all her forces, interrupting her breathing in the effort, weak from her injury.

Peter already looked dead to her.

She struggled to stretch her fingers.

“Th-”

“Confringo!�� “Avada Kedavra!” “Petrificus totalus!” “Cruciatus!”

The four spells flew at the same time toward the voice.

Responding to their instincts, Lily, James, Sirius, and Alice had managed to break the inertia that was pinning them down, firing their shots with a propulsed rage.

It happened so fast.

Nobody could resist to four curses at once.

A ball of blinding light surrounded the Dark Lord, its powerful energy making everyone fall to their knees. The inhuman cry of destruction ripped the atmosphere, pierced their eardrums, reached their souls and tore them apart. A storm of black dust wrapped, asphyxiated them. There was coughing, an intense warmth, and the smell of rotten meat.

A skull formed in the air, laced by a snake. For a split second, it seemed to Lily that the skull looked at her with an intense rage.

She heard Peter’s screams, then fainted.

***

Lily wondered why everybody preferred life rather than death. At least, when you’re dead, you can’t wake up to a raw reality.

The first signal that she received from her body was a stabbing pain on her side. She stifled a cry with her pillow, which left a disagreeable smell of bleach on her face.

The sheets were white, that’s all she saw. Her eyes were too sensible to last more than a few seconds open.

Last time she had found herself in medical care, it had been because of a potions experiment gone wrong, in her seventh school year.

Right after waking up for good, she had been greeted by half a dozen of her friends, either sitting or standing, who had brought her sweets and kind notes.

Professors had passed by in the day, beaming at her and sharing their wishes of seeing her well soon.

Tucked under the soft sheets, she had thanked them all dearly.

The only thing to beckon now was the lonely grey chair that flanked her uncomfortable mattress.

She hated hospitals.

She tried to move her hands, but the effort caused a wave of protest in her stomach.

Her other, rapid sight of the world were two shadows on the white curtain that isolated her bed.

It took her a while to distinguish any sound.

“... serious state,” affirmed a high-pitched voice.

“How long do you think it will take?”

Dumbledore. This was Dumbledore’s serious tone.

“Probably days,” placidly answered the woman. “She was hit by a cruciatus, according to Shacklebolt. It didn’t last more than a dozen of seconds, but it was enough to make her lose her senses. And then, there was this explosion they all talk about. We can’t understand the magnitude of the force that hit them, nor how it possibly left her in such a drained state. She was two-thirds dead when they brought her here. Do you know anything more?”

The buzzing in her ears made it impossible for Lily to hear the warlock’s murmured answer.

“If you are right, I must act right now. Another healer will lead you to Pettigrew’s room. Black left yesterday, while Longbottom is still unconscious. Potter received a visit earlier in the morning. A young woman, to whom we gave exceptional allowance as she affirmed being his fiancee.”

A hurtful darkness engulfed Lily.

***

Everything was numb.

She was vaguely aware of the door of her room clicking open. A voice slinked in.

“I am not sure if she’s awaken yet, boy. And visits are not allowed, at this stage of the cure. You’ll have to come back in a few days, when she’ll feel better.”

It took some seconds for the words to sink in.

What?

No fucking way she was going to stay in this hell of a place for ‘a few days.’

“Hey!” She called.

Hurried steps came her way, the curtains were dragged open, and a grey beard bent over her face. The man’s pungent breath stung her nostrils.

He pulled back just in time to avoid her first retching wave.

The world was spinning, she couldn’t draw in any oxygen.

“Johnes!” The healer’s voice was as disagreeable as his smell. “Call Jenkins and Perks, she’s having another attack!”

The last thing Lily saw, as her unsteady gaze fell on the doorframe, before sinking back into oblivion, were squared glasses and ruffled hair.

***

This dance between life and death was the most exhausting thing that had ever happened to her.

Exhausting and deceiving: she always woke up.

The fissures under her eyelashes revealed the same depressing white light on the roof. She groaned, but was relieved that no twist of nausea manifested itself. Her tongue seemed glued to her palate, and her throat was as dry as a roasted nut.

Helping herself with her forearms, Lily sat up.

“Bloody hell,” she whispered. It somehow felt comforting to hear her own voice, even if it was cracked. “When was the last time I brushed my teeth.”

“Six days ago, I’d say.”

Her start was so violent that she almost rolled down to the floor.

“That is, assuming that you wash them regularly.”

The grey chair at her right was not empty anymore. James was sitting on it, his legs crossed.

Lily instinctively pulled the sheets up, to cover what the hospital’s blouse barely disguised. “What- How in the world did you get inside here?”

The man pointed a finger toward the door with a smirk, which, in other conditions, would have made her roll her eyes.

She scanned him. He looked much more like the James she had always known, with his hair all untidy and his crumpled shirt half-tuck in his pants.

Nostalgy almost made her smile, but she got the feeling that he wouldn’t have appreciated it.

“What do you want?”

His stare fled hers.

“Before your dear friend comes back to kick my butt out of here, you should see this.”

He handed her a copy of the Daily Prophet

The rugose paper was stained in multiple places, ripped in others, but it would have been difficult not to read the title that took the entire half of the first page, ‘The Dark Lord Defeated.’

Lily’s jaw dropped. “I swear, if this is one of your stupid pranks, I’ll-”

A spasm in the side cut her sentence.

“Calm down, Evans. We don’t want you to die after becoming a hero, do we? Dumbledore would kill me.”

His finger brushed the upper corner of the newspaper, invisibly highlighting some words and numbers. Swallowing with difficulty, Lily read the date of publication. It was from three days ago.

“So?”

“So it’s not a prank. But it’s useless. He’s still alive. Cobra confirmed it.”

Her shoulders dropped. Still-

“How can somebody resist to four attacks at the same time? He can’t possibly be alive!”

James brushed her comment away with a gesture of his head. “Have you seen him the other night, Evans? He already looked like a corpse. He masters some dark magic we don’t know about, not even Dumbledore. I doubt we achieved anything more than to anger him.”

It had been too good to be true. Though it didn’t feel like reality. More like a nightmare.

“We did more than that. We saved Pet-”

Her voice died in her throat.

They had saved Peter.

They had saved only Peter.

On her neck, a hideous mark was drawn in blood.

Amanda had always been nice to Lily, even if the latter didn’t seek people’s company. She had shared with her a part of her lunch for long, after a particularly hard week, when Lily’s hollow cheeks had become too evident.

The last look of despair faltered on his face.

Drew had always been an important moral support to the squad. Not the most brilliant bloke in the world, but his seriousness was a column to which many members had found support, including Lily.

They had been important, in their own way.

And now they were gone.

Lily’s shoulders slumped.

“I- there is something else- I have to tell you.” James’ pause was sad, warned her of the worse. “Dumbledore told me something about- the second hostage’s wife. She- she died yesterday. They did her possible to save her but h-”

He kept talking, but nothing reached her ears.

Lily had met Drew’s wife once. The Order had lost her as a member when she had lost her brother because of a mission. She was very reserved, pale like a chrysanthemum. Drew often compared her to a frail flower, but Lily had understood that she was ill.

They were a loyal couple, loved each other dearly.

In wedding vows, you promise to follow your other half everywhere, no matter what.

The poor woman had kept her promise.

The air burnt Lily’s throat. She didn’t want to breathe anymore.

James was still sitting next to her, and didn’t move as she buried her grief under a sea of tears.

She would have wanted him to hug her, to help her soothe the pain of mourning people she had barely known, but who had died in front of her.

‘Fiancee’ had said the healer to Dumbledore.

“Just leave, please.”

It costed her only a whisper, and she was alone again.

***

Lily filled her lungs with the sun’s air, relieved to inhale the dust of the streets. After ten days of undergoing all types of stupid tests in the hospital, she was finally physically out.

What she needed now was infinite sleep, and a ton of pain killers.

But Fate knows how to be cruel.

***

Things reached her through a haze.

The bed and the light were the same, just the curtains had changed. They were thicker.

It was a nightmare repeating itself.

Her head throbbed. Somebody must have hit her skull with a hammer.

The person standing right next to her, maybe.

“Good morning, Lily.” For a moment, she feared that the man would get too close. Then she noticed that his beard was clearer than the healer’s. “Can I have a second of your time?”

Her instinct advised her to send him to hell, her sore throat won the battle.

Dumbledore observed her like a little girl looks at an injured puppy. Something in his voice was wrong.

“Do you remember anything, Lily?”

Anything of what?

Shaking her head made her nerves go wild.

“You did it again.”

She did what now. End up in a bed that smelt of too much cleaning?

Yeah, she had noticed.

“You defeated Lord Voldemort a second time.”

And she passed out.

***

“Can somebody  tell me what the fuck he meant?” The only answer she got was the metallic noises of medical tools. “How in the world did I ended up in this disgusting place again? What’s going on?”

Being nice had been completely erased from her agenda.

The nurses who were taking her blood pressure sighed in frustration. “We have already told you, Ms. Evans. We can’t tell you anything. The Head Healer said-”

“Then call your damned Head Healer.”

The women left without taking their toolkit.

An eternity later, Grey Beard stepped in.

“Good afternoon Ms. E-”

“How did I fucking end up here?”

He seemed to hesitate.

“I have been instructed to not reveal any information, Ms. Evans, for the sake of your health. You will have to wait until you get the green light to leave.”

“As if,” she grunted. “Where is Dumbledore?”

The man hesitated. His inner voices were arguing over what to do, but promptly found an agreement.

He left the room, and didn’t come back for the next two days.

***

“I am not a doll!”

Her fist hit the table.

She was wild. A real storm.

The portraits on the walls were empty, their occupants having fled toward a better climate.

Behind his desk, Hogwarts’ Headmaster didn’t flinch.

“You left me rotting in that horrible hospital for ten more days.” Her tears were a free stream. “You came to give me an explanation when I could only think you were a vision.” A bubble burst in her chest. “And now you tell me that-”

Dumbledore sighed. “And now I tell you that the girl who was your best friend died in that mission you can’t even remember.” Lily pressed her hand to her mouth, bit her fingers with rage. “Ms. Mckinnon was one of our best members, Ms. Evans. She knew that this mission was highly dangerous. She accepted it. Do not blame yourself.”

It hurt.

It hurt because Marlene had been the first person Lily had met after her sister had called her a freak for the hundredth time, on King’s Cross station.

It hurt because Lily hadn’t spoken to Marlene after their last day at Hogwarts, for the same reason why she had broken up with James, for the same reason why she had refused to answer to Mary or Remus’s letter.

It hurt because Marlene had been the only one to accept her decision, to try to understand her, when she had left.

It hurt because, after that, she had seen her for the last time during a mission she didn’t remember, maybe told her something she didn’t recall, or perhaps ignored her like Sirius had done with her.

“Are there- Are there chances to recover my memory?”

At least she could grasp to that, but Dumbledore’s eyes were sorry.

“The shock of the impact, its magnitude, leaves us few hopes, Ms. Evans. We don’t know what would have happened if Longbottom hadn’t come to your rescue.” Lily shuddered. I wouldn’t be here. “But what you managed to do,” he adds in a comforting voice, “Is extraordinary. Ms. Mckinnon will not have died in vain.”

She could ask him again, but he didn’t seem incline to disclose some information. It didn’t belong to him, after all.

“So who could tell me what happened exactly that night?”

She needed to know from somebody who had been there.

She needed to know how it had happened.

“Four people were present beside you and Ms. Mckinnon. Black refuses to have any contact with anybody, Fortescue and Longbottom are still interned. The only one that will accept to help you is-”

She felt the answer before he could mention it.

Fate knows how to be cruel.

“James Potter.”

***

The doorbell rang.

It had cost her a herculean effort. She hoped that no blonde girl would open the door.

An eye appeared in the spy-hole, widened considerably, then vanished.

There was a second of doubt before the wooden panel swung on its hinges.

“Lily?”

Blimey, Euphemia Potter hadn’t changed a bit. Maybe she had a couple more wrinkles, but these are things you don’t notice in women like her.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Potter. Is James here?”

Euphemia defied the girl with a stare. A mother never forgets the face of her son’s murderer.

“Please,” begged Lily. “It’s very important.”

The woman slowly nodded.

In the corridor, she didn’t offer her any tea or biscuits. Not even water. She pointed to the living room, then disappeared upstairs.

Lily crossed her legs, and patiently waited.

She didn’t hear James coming, and practically did not see him standing in the doorframe until he cleared his throat.

Again, that will to hug him, to forget everything in the security of his warm embrace.

“What do you want, Evans?”

She raised her eyes to his face. “What happened?”

He sat in the armchair that faced her, and did something that pushed her down the cliff.

He took her hands.

***

Marlene had infiltrated the Death Eaters’ meeting.

The Order needed information. They had provided her a backup squad, in case things would go wrong. Everything was under control until the Dark Lord had required the attendees to take off their masks.

He knew.

Marlene had looked at him straight in the eyes when he had raised his wand.

“You jumped forward from behind the double-wall.” James tried to hold his voice together, pressing his thumbs gently on her palms. “Marlene looked at you as if you were from another world. For the fraction of a second, her empty expression switched with the one she usually harbored at- at Hogwarts. She badly wanted to smile, but you were both about to die, so she didn’t. The effect of surprise you had caused vanished, and the shot was fired. Hit her square in the chest.” He badly represses a sob. “He dismissed the meeting, as if nothing had happened, while you were still gazing at Marlene’s body. He felt so- superior.”

Lily’s vision was blurry.

“He was aiming at you, smirking, when shock woke you up. You turned to face him, and screamed the curse. He underestimated you so much that he didn’t duck it on time, so he stumbled. Alice and Frank were quick with their spells, but he was quicker. Like last time, his dark image invaded the room, and he dissolved into thin air. You were the closest one, the energy trapped you.”

Her mind didn’t want to assimilate this as the truth, though she knew deep down that it was the correct version of facts.

It felt unreal, but what did not lately?

She was not even capable to accept pain and sadness anymore.

“Lily… We could have gone through this together…” In other times, embarrassment would have made him scratch his neck, but his fingers were warm on hers. His grip was firm. He wanted an answer. “Why did you do it?”

Did he honestly think that she could talk about this right now?

She wanted to cry, but her body was dry.

“You have a fiancee, James. I don’t think it really matters to you anymore.”

“Don’t use that accusative tone. It sounds as if you expected me to wait forever.”

“I didn’t expect you to wait forever. I just hoped…”

“You hoped! Be honest, Lily! I thought you loved me at least a fragment of how much I loved you, that would have been enough. The world as we knew it was breaking apart, we all needed some stable points, but you decided to destroy my strongest one!” He grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look at him in the eyes. “Do you know how much our relationship meant to me? Did you realize that you’d leave me in pieces? Did you even care? It turned out you hated me!”

Two years of efforts.

Marlene had died not knowing that she loved her, perhaps even thinking the contrary.

“I didn’t!” Her shout made him recoil. “I loved you more than anything in the world, James! I- I wanted to save you! You, Peter, Remus, Sirius, Mary, Marlene, Dorcas, and all the others! You were getting attacked for dating me! They fucking used the cruciatus on you, while we were still at school, bloody hell! You got tortured because of me!”

James was appalled. He raised, dropping her hands.

“Loving somebody means caring about their feelings, Lily. You hurt me more by leaving than these damned moron could have in hours of persecution! They came after me anyway! They still tried to kill me after you left! And guess what, I didn’t feel like surviving! I was dead in the inside! Was it not for the boys, I would be under six feet of dust right now!”

She stood up too, erecting herself so his nose faced her forehead.

Her eyes were losing their sparkle.

“You don’t hear yourself, James! War is not the right moment to attach your life to somebody else’s, most of all if that person is a principal aim! Look at what happened to Drew and his wife. He died, and she didn’t resist! I didn’t want that! I didn’t want you to suffer because of me!”

“It was harder to accept the fact that you were leaving without any apparent reason! Fuck, Lily! Try to be coherent!”

“You had friends then, but who knew if they’d still be living later! You got over it, you didn’t die of despair! You found l-”

She had to sit down, to cover her face with her hands.

All she had wanted was to protect him.

And now, he had a fiancee. Another person through which they could harm him.

He was making all her struggles meaningless.

He was making her jealous.

“You found love again.”

Fate knows how to be cruel.

***

Her apartment had never seemed as dim as when she stepped out of the chimney.

Even after opening the curtains -- she took them off, she had had enough of any kind of them -- the windows barely let a couple of light rays in. They needed some cleaning, but it seemed impossible to her that such a basic task still existed.

There was war going on. Her living room glass panels begged for some soap.

The two things did not get along at all.

Lily sank in her old sofa, sending a cloud of dust and ashes spiraling in the air. She took her wand out of her pocket, and examined it consciously. She was not sure to remember how to use it.

When you want to produce magic, you need to mean something.

She didn’t feel like she meant anything anymore.

Her gaze dropped to the floor, and this is when she noticed the envelope abandoned on the carpet.

***

Lily hesitated.

It was pure suicide.

“How many of us?”

Her favorite question to alleviate the pressure.

Though now, she really needed to know.

“Four.” It was a glacial answer. A frightened answer. “More would be too much, and less… pure craziness.”

This was already crazy. Marlene had tried. She had failed.

“Who else apart from us?”

“Frank,” Of course. “And James.”

Considering her luck in the last months, it didn’t even surprise her.

“I’m in.”

Their imperceptible nod was a silent promise .

Lily was about to leave her teammate’s flat when something clicked in her head.

“Does somebody officially know about this?”

Alice’s eyes scanned the redhead’s face, calculating the pros and cons of telling the truth.

“No.”

Nobody would come to their rescue. It was a secret against a safety.

They were disobeying the orders.

Their last drop of hope splashed on the floor.

***

Lily rubbed her hands together, then blew some hot air between her joined palms.

She was the first to arrive, for once. Hell, if she had to die, she had to do something extraordinary before.

There was a loud crack behind her, followed by another one. Without speaking a word in the silent night, Alice and Frank acknowledged her presence, then took different paths to their positions.

The woman waited for the last apparating sound to turn around.

The man wore a long coat and dark pants. His hair was combed, but he ruffled it. He probably wanted to die as himself.

“Good evening, Lily.”

“‘evening, Potter.”

She seemed unable to articulate anything more. But they didn’t have the whole night at disposition.

“You know, I meant it,” she said at last. He slightly raised a brow, observing her tense face from above his glasses. “When I said I loved you.” He looked away. She could see his perfect jawline contract as he clenched his teeth. “And as we’ll probably never see each other again…”

She stood on her toe tips, and lightly brushed his lips with hers.

Saying that it didn’t provoke any emotion in their chest would be a blatant lie.

But it didn’t feel the same anymore.

He had loved her, but she had hurt him. He had slowly mended his wounds, didn’t want to open them again.

Lily understood it, pain and remorse corroding her soul.

She left to take her position.

***

This time, it was over. They had finally done it.

He was gone. She believed it.

She wanted to believe it.

She hadn’t even ended up in that fucking hospital.

Maybe life was going to be good again.

She asked nothing more of it than to be acceptable.

So she had said yes to a couple of firewhiskey glasses. Which had turned into bottles.

The Daily Prophet’s title was its biggest in history: ‘The Dark Lord Defeated For Good: Four Heros To Thank.’

The journalist and editor must have been drunk.

In the pub, wizards and witches greeted her, thanked her, cried in front of her.

They were all drunk as well.

The music, the shouts, the people. It was all too much. She had retired in one of the bedrooms. To be alone with her thoughts drowned in alcohol.

It felt wrong to celebrate.

“Evans?” The slur was full of booze.

James was one of the other ‘heros,’ and understood as much as her how heavy this title was. They other two did too, but at least they could make out to forget.

He slowly came to sit next to her, on the mattress.

Chills ran down her spine.

“Nice party, huh?”

She didn’t answer. He was talking to her as if nothing had happened before the attack. Maybe he didn’t remember.

“Know what, Evans?” He took a sip from the bottle he had in hand. A long sip. “This whole story is bullshit. If four curses didn’t killed him the first time, I doubt that he got affected now. The man’s not over. He’s got like a thousand souls, I swear.”

This stupid theory, the stress, her hopelessness made her laugh nervously.

Granted, she had drunk one shot too much.

James had indeed forgotten all about her confession. He had blissfully forgotten everything about his life for this night. He deserved it.

The only thing he was conscious of was that, whatever the newspapers said, he had a bad presentment. And also that his leg brushed hers.

Meanwhile, Lily was getting hysterical. Her cackling irritated him, and he, pushed by the cruelty of oblivion, found no other way to shut her up than to press his lips to hers.

It was not a kiss like those they had shared in their youth. This one was furious, full of reproaches, aggressive. It was the result of tension, of an intense passion repressed for two years, moved by firewhiskey.

It was not sincere, it was desperate, crazy, drunk.

They were breathless, broken, intoxicated. They were lying on a bed, forgotten by everyone, in a room too far from reach.

The moon was full outside, treacherous, insatiable. The wolves hollowed in the woods, the empty souls trembled, the proud ones lost themselves.

Fate knows how to be cruel.

Lily and James were proud souls.

What should not have happened, happened.

***

“Don’t you fucking dare to kid me on this, Sirius.”

“I swear to you on Merlin’s left b-”

“How the bloody hell… What did he tell Katie?”

“The truth. The kid is his. Due in July.”

“Fuck.”

“I know. She slapped him round the face, didn’t want to see him for a week.”

“Did he-”

“They’re going to marry in June.”

“Lily and him?”

“Katie and him, Moony.”

“What?”

“Katie’s his fiancee. What happened with Lily was- an accident.”

“Are you fucking kidding me! I know he said he would never forgive her, but for Gryffindor’s hell of a hat… ”

“The girls are holding no excessive mortal grudge. Lily will settle in a calm neighborhood, she’ll have an old witch to help her with the baby.”

“At least that. The newspapers?”

“Those stupid blokes that call themselves journalists don’t say anything on the topic, too busy explaining why the Dark Lord is back after all. ”

“Hoping it’ll last, last thing we want is a scandal. But I guess the Ministry is covering them up. They still need them as a symbol.”

“Yeah. Defeated the Dark Lord thrice. But that bastard keeps coming back.”

“You know, it’s the first time I hear about Lily in two years.”

“I’m sorry, Moony.”

“Bloody fucking hell… Life’s a bitch.”

***

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...." 

***

She let him in.

James came once a month, when Katie allowed him to. His wife was sensible to Harry being the result of adults’ mistakes, just a kid.

A kid bound to die.

Lily’s hands trembled every time she opened the door. She feared to see her nightmare, the blueish face, red eyes, coming to kill her son.

But only James and Peter knew where to find her, so she tried to ignore her fears.

Happy chirping called her in the living room. James had brought chocolate frogs, and all kinds of soft sweets were lying on the floor.

Of course.

He had once bought his son a broomstick, when the Quidditch season had started.

He was a good father.

In her letter, the letter with which she had broken their relationship, a little more than three years ago, Lily had mentioned how things are bound to happen, and how James and her were not one of these things.

Now that she saw him play on the carpet with Harry, the possibility that she may had been wrong squeezed her heart.

But Fate knows how to be cruel.

It will never tell you what decision you have to take.

It will never allow you to step back.

It will never warn you of any danger.

As James stood to leave, half an hour later, in this chilly night dressed in the colors of autumn, Fate confirmed once more its superiority with a single, blood freezing sound.

Somebody knocked on the door.

[ddaddsprompts]

I don't know if your still willing to do Omegaverse stuff but like the thought of dadsona being super into random hugs and hand holding before they get together, because dadsona just is a really affectionate guy, just gets me through the day

I’m more than willing to do Omegaverse. In fact, give me more of my favourite AU! - Mod Mare

🥃 Robert and touch have an… interestingrelationship. On the one hand, he gets very touchy-feely when he’s completelyplastered; you can’t remember a time he hasn’t wrapped his arm around you in aone-sided hug when you were at Jim and Kim’s drinking. On the other hand, whenhe’s sober, he shies away from touch as if it’s poisonous. It takes you a very longtime, but eventually, you figure it out: He doesn’t think he deservesaffection. The realisation alone makes you want to weep. You’re almost 100%sure he doesn’t remember the conversation where he practically admitted to howhe feels or else he would have reacted differently when you first hug him whenneither of you is drunk. He is out with his dog, looking hangover and tired andvery much in need of a long hug, so that’s what you do. In your arms, Robertfreezes. His hands hover awkwardly in the air, his fingers twitching as if he’storn between touching and not touching, and he’s gone completely tense. Yournose might not be as good as an Alpha’s, but even you can smell the distressand confusion under the layers of cologne, whiskey, leather and cigarettes thatalways cling to his body. You don’t say anything, but also don’t move,determined to have him hug you back. Eventually, after a few minutes, he does.From then on, whenever you see him, no matter what you were doing before, youdrop everything and hug him. Normally, your affection is instinctual,automatic, but with Robert, you make a conscious effort. And, after weeks ofdoing this, Robert finally allows himself to relax into the touch. At onepoint, you could swear you heard him cry into your hair.

🍸 In Joseph you had found someone just as tactile as you. His displays ofaffection are subtler than yours, but they’re there all the same. With you, itseems, he gets to be as touchy as he wants to be. Whenever you’re around, hehas a hand on the small of your back, on your shoulder or wrapped around yourwrist. His hugs are the second best, outranked only by Brian’s. To some extent,his body language stands in harsh contrast to his words and actions. You’vemostly been around just him, but whenever Mary is there, too, things are…tense. Joseph always makes sure to touch her more than you, but Mary doesn’tseem to like it, always moving out of his reach or glaring until he drops hishand. When he touches you, the moment he notices what he’s doing, he draws awayagain. The situation is awkward, so you retreat, keeping your hugs with Josephshort and staying as far away from Mary as possible with you being neighbours. Omegasaren’t the slaves of instincts traditionalists make them out to be, but thetension makes you feel physically sick, as if there’s a crack in your pack that’ssteadily growing and you don’t do your job keeping everyone together and happy.Wandering along the bay, you’re surprised to see Joseph in the distance,staring out at the sea. Frowning, you approach him. You’re not an empath, buteven to you it feels like the misery is pouring out of him like fog. Withoutthinking you move faster until you’re standing next to him. You put your handon his shoulder, but he pulls you into his arms, all but clinging to you. If heknows you notice him tremble, he doesn’t mention it and neither do you.

☕ “Hey, Mat!” The barista in question looks up from his till at the soundof your voice and waves with a big smile on his face. “Hey, Carmensita!” Youbend down to hug her, unconsciously rubbing your cheek against hers, nearlypurring, before getting up to do the same with her father. From the way younearly leap across the counter, one could have thought you haven’t seen eachother in ages, even though you’d only been here yesterday. When you release Matagain, his face is beet red. You wonder whether he is ever going to get used toyour tactility. Dropping your arms, you take a hold of his hands and lace yourfingers. “How are things going?” Mat peels his gaze away from your joinedhands, blush deepening. “G-good. It’s a quiet day, but the home-going trafficwill be soon, so I’m getting ready for the rush of people.” You look around. “Isn’tPablo in today?” Mat shakes his head. “His band plays a few towns overtomorrow, they’re preparing…” Mat pauses as you lean in to rest your head onhis shoulder comfortably. From somewhere behind you, you hear a childishgiggle. “…preparing for the gig. I gave him the next three days off.” You lookup again. Your faces are only inches apart. “Do you need any help? I can’t makefancy drinks but I know how to use a till.” He shakes his head. “No need, butthank you for the offer.” Reaching up, you squeeze his shoulders, then lean infor another hug. “Well, if you change your mind, you know where I am. I’llleave you to it! See you!” Mat’s face is even redder than before when you letgo and round the counter again.

🌹 Next to Robert, of all the dads in the neighbourhood Damien is takenoff-guard by your random hugs the most. Unlike you, he’s not much of a touchyperson, which you believe can be traced back to Victorian etiquette. The thirdtime he makes a hasty retreat after you hug him, you decide to tone it back forhis sake, as much as it physically and mentally hurts you. You do not touch himunless he’s the one instigating it; no hugs, no holding hands, no bumpingsides. A week of this and you’re already feeling sick. You try making up for itby hugging the others more, but there’s a Damien-shaped hole in your chest(larger than it ought to be, but if there’s one thing you’re good at it’s notacknowledging your feelings). You’re moping about, taking a walk through MapleBay, when out of nowhere, a hand grips you and pulls you aside. You yelp. Mary givesyou a look that makes you tense right again; she looks pissed. “I don’t knowwhy you treat Damien differently than the others, but if you don’t give me agood reason in the next ten seconds, I’ll kick you.” You hope no one else walksby or they’d smell your distress against the wind. You gulp and take a step back,but Mary’s having none of it and crowds you again. “I thought he didn’t want meto. He always ran away when I did.” Mary blinks, then shakes her head andreleases you. “Idiots, the lot of you. Go hug him. He’s moping.”The next time you see Damien, you make sure to hug him long and hard. Heblushes, red like a tomato, but also doesn’t flee. He returns the embrace,holding you close.

🎣 Pun intended, Brian takes to your love fortouching people like a fish to the water. His hugs, you decide early on, arethe best thing ever, which bothers you at first – another thing he’s better atthan you – but you quickly come to terms with it, if only to properly enjoy theglory that were his strong arms wrapped around you. What Brian seems to notlike at all, though, is that you extend your affections to everyone. Wheneveryou hug someone he pulls you back into his arms and touches all the skin thatcame in contact with the other person. It’s the same this time, after youhugged Joseph saying hello, but this time, he growls. It’s quiet, but Joseph hears and automatically takes a stepback. That’s the last straw for you. Excusing yourself, you pull Brian along toa quiet corner of the garden. Before he can get a word in, you push your indexfinger in his face. “Brian, what the hell? You growled at Joseph. You don’tgrowl at people. What’s going on? Every time I touch someone, you act reallyweird. Is that your way of telling me everyone has lice? I don’t get it.”Brian blushes. You do a double-take. Brian blushed.“Ah, Y/N… I can’t help it, I’m sorry. I’ll try to control myself, I promise.”You search his face for any signs of him lying, but he looks sincere, so younod. “Good. Now we go apologise to Joseph.” He opens his mouth to protest, butyou ignore him. You take his hand again and tug him along behind you.

👟 Craig is already used to you being a very, very,very tactile person, so he acceptedthe hugs without the bat of an eyelid. Memories of your college days, when youwere often so drunk you hugged everyone at parties, ring in your head. Youremember how Craig usually had to pry you off people after thesocially-acceptable time span for an introductory hug was over and howsometimes, after you had gone around hugging everyone, he would throw an armover your shoulder and keep you at his side, no matter what. That didn’t changewhen he met Smashley, not even when you started dating Alex; it only lessened.His behaviour, back then hadn’t made much sense to you, but now, in Maple Bay…It made even less sense. “Bro!” You jog up to him and jump into his arms for ahug. Craig, as always, catches you and laughs. “Hey, bro!” You bury your facein his neck and wrap your legs around his stomach. The scent of Alpha does funny things to your belly;with other people, you tend to acknowledge their status, but the reminder ofCraig’s always leaves you blushing. Craig’s arms tighten around you and heholds you for as long as you want, so you take your time soaking up thephysical affection. Then, you pat his back and he slowly releases you. Anexpression of reluctance flashesacross his face, but is quickly replaced by a beaming smile. “Ready for ourwalk, bro?” Instead of answering, you take Craig’s hand and tug on his arm. Theaction makes him blush lightly. Under your questioning gaze, Craig rubs theback of his head, blush darkening even more. “L-let’s go, bro!”

📖 Keeping a professional distance from Hugo is torture, but he’s Amanda’steacher and you doubt she’d appreciate you extending your lack of personalbubble to him. In fact, you doubt Hugo would appreciate it either. Sothroughout your first meetings, you focus far more on not touching him thanactually paying attention to what was being said. Ah, well, couldn’t have been thatimportant. Trivia Night, however, the atmosphere is so different, you wonderwhether this still classifies as a friendly get-together or if it was a date.The thought alone makes you blush. “Are you okay, Y/N?” You look up from thecheese platter between you and give Hugo a – hopefully – reassuring smile. “Ofcourse. I was only lost in thoughts.” He still looks at you quizzically, so,without thinking, you reach out to squeeze his hand. “Really, Hugo, don’tworry.” Hugo pushes up his glasses again and averts his gaze, and there’s a redshine to his cheeks now. After a few more seconds, you release his hand again.After dinner, you two walk home. It’s cold, compared to the inside, and youdidn’t bring a jacket. Unconsciously, you drift closer to Hugo until you’repressed against him. This time he doesn’t comment, but merely wraps an armaround your shoulders hesitantly, allowing you to nestle under it and into hisside. He doesn’t let go as he shows you his wrestling den, nor do you drawaway, despite not being cold anymore. The opposite is the case. “Thanks forshowing me your wrestling stuff,” you say before wrapping your arms around himin a hug. He freezes, but then embraces you too and pulls you close. Where yourcheek is pressed against his neck, you feel him blush.

[uzum4k1-uch1h4]

Who do you choose?

A/N:Your like 10 years younger then Dean and it like in like season 4-5-6 (i think, been a while since i watched those episode) so yeah he’s in his earlie thirties.

Resume: your the little sister of Sam and Dean and the three of you are kidnapped by a demon that wants revenge because you killed someone close to him. To have a little fun he makes you choose who will live: Sam or Dean.

Warning: torture, blood, fighting…? I think that’s all

Enjoy!

———————

The clicking of his heels was heard all through the small abandoned building as he walked to the door where his prisoners were held. His prisoners, oh how he loved the sound of that. He had finally done the impossible.

He had captured the 3 Winchester’s and incapacitated their faithful angel, or so he thought, the angel was just blocked unable to move from the same place somewhere surrounded by cows. He was proud to still be standing there, alive and kicking.

They had been so easily tricked it was almost sad but since when did demons feel pity.

So he made his way, almost skipping in happiness, to the room were he had locked the three stooges.

Opening the door slowly to make sure the three were still sitting and tied down to their respective chair. The two brothers on one side of the room facing the baby of the family, you.

You and your brothers had been kidnapped while in a hunt. You were going after a ghost that had killed all the residents that bought the house throughout the years but after you finished a couple of demons jumped you three and Castiel hadn’t responded to any of your calls.

All in all you didn’t know who would help you out of this picky situation. When you first saw the demon open the door you recognized him, your brothers soon would two because the door was to their back. It was the demon that had stayed back and watched as you battled his minions.

When Sam had recited the exorcime the demons you were fighting he disappeared before reappearing when you all thought you were done. The three of you were hurt and your guards had been lowered so he easily put you all unconscious.

When Sam and Dean heard the door open and finally saw the demon that abducted the three of you head for their little sister they strengthen their will to brake the bonds securing them to their chairs. No way would they let some demon hurt you, no way in hell.

Sliding his hand up and down your face the sick grin grew on the monster’s face, he knew touching you would kill your brothers so each time he touched, hit you he would look back at the two to see their defeated looks because they knew they couldn’t do anything but watch as he abused you.

When he seemed to get bored he left her side to go to a cart that was hidden in the shadows and that neither of the siblings had seen earlier because not only was it dark but it was just behind you so your body was hiding it from your brothers. By then you were black and blue with some scratch marks because of the demon’s ring that had done a good amount of damage each time he punched you.

Strutting in your direction the sickly smile having returned he held a knife in his right hand. When he got closer to your painting form your brothers shook in their restraints with newly found strength. They hadn’t stopped either but they simply couldn’t concentrate on freeing themselves when you were right in front of them suffering but trying to stay strong.

When he finally arrived to you side he drew the knife closer to your cheek, while holding your head with his other hand, and slowly cut your cheek before licking the blood.

“Why don’t we play a little game” came his voice for the first time and the sound of it gave you shivers. His sentence caught the attention of both Sam and Dean and they stopped moving for a second. Their glares had intensified even more then earlier and if looks could kill he would have been back in hell and they would have been the ones torturing him.

“Why don’t I make you chose wich one will make it out of here” he started, inching himself closer to you. “Alive” he finished. Your eyes flew open in shock when he finally spoke.

You had to choose which one of your brothers was to make it out alive but you couldn’t so you looked at him from the corner of your eyes, glared at him, spit his way before speaking clearly.

“No” your voice didnt sound fragile but strong and the demon knew, he knew that if he wanted and answer then he’d have to have a little more fun.

“Very well then”

When he said that both Sam and Dean’s eyes found their way to the demon in surprise and curiosity. He wouldn’t just give up that easily so what was he planning.

“I always get what I want, it doesn’t matter how much time it takes me I always do” he said strocking your hair and biting your ear lobe sending shivers down your spine, and not the good type of shivers.

What seemed like hours later but was only thirty minutes, he asked again who you choose and still you said no one. Finally many hours of your brother growing more and more angry and the demon getting irritated at your lack or response he placed the edge of the knife just by Sam’s eye and that was what made you crack.

“OK! I-I know who I choose” you said, desperately wanting the demon to step closer to you and walk on the dry blood that was yours.

“Oh and who is it?” He asked, genuinely curious, it had been easy. He just had to include one of your brothers in on the ‘fun’ and you did all you were told.

All you did was mumble an incoherent answer knowing he’d step closer to hear what you said. And again you mumble incoherently seeing stepping right by your trap.

The second his foot entered the demon’s trap you pushed your legs up and used them to choke him before using your bare foot to take the knife, you had taken both your shoes of to be able to draw the details on the floor.

Pushing yourself from him you ended up on your back before turning on your side and taking the knife in your hands and using it to cut the big ropes that held you in place. Cutting the ropes from your feets two you slowly got up trying not to cry out in pain and headed towards your brothers to cut them loose.

When you finally finished cutting Sam’s ropes with Dean’s help you collapsed because of the bloodloss and the pain.

“Hey hey I got you pipsqueak, stay awake can you do that for me” the voice sounded so far away and yet so close and all you could see was a blury figuring hovering over yourself. Hearing another voice speak in another language you knew the person was exercising the demon you caught that was still in the trap.

“Come on (y/n) stay with me damn it!” Your eyes were closing in on themselves slowly, but surely, and not before you were unconscious.

You came to days later. The sound of a beeping machine breking the tense silence and your surrounding were entirely white. The only things that broke the rule were the two people sitting on either side of your bed, both holding one of your hands and trying to stay awake.

Your constent groanings was what brought them back to consciousness and each with a happy smile on their face gave you a hug promising protection.

“You scared me there pip I thought you were a goner” Dean finally said, relief flooding through him at the idea of having his baby sister back to his side any day now.

“Yeah well I’m not going anywhere for a while” you responded with a smile that probably looked more like a grimace then anything.

“You better” this time it was Sam who spoke his concern.

Someone knocked at the door before opening it in a haste.The man who entered was Bobby, the one person who acted more like a dad then your own flesh and blood father.

“You idjit gave us all a scare, you won’t be leaving my side for a while (y/n) and I hope you know it” he said sternly.

“Yeah I know” you said laughing. Your family may not be the biggest one but you were all happy together and no one will be able to do anything about it.

The ringing of Dean’s phone brought you all back from your little world so he put the phone in between all of you so you all would hear what was said on the other side.

“Dean I request you assistance I am in a farm and I can not get out. I am also surrounded by cows and the voice says I am almost out of minutes”

Done!