#just him being without his people for a whole night

[jinlin-at-the-moon]

gonna be a bit nitpicky about the last reblog above, but what is tumblr for if not discussions, so...! i feel like many forget to take into account that airplane didn't originally set up binghe as a stallion protagonist of any kind - in fact, in the original outline, luo binghe never had any romantic interests at all, which is a VERY interesting tidbit that i wish more people would remember, because what the hell was the original outline is something that keeps me up at night.

THAT BEING SAID: personally, i do like to go with the interpretation that airplane was fully aware of his own sexuality, because it kind of makes the whole pidw-as-a-stallion-novel thing more tragic given luo binghe is... well, kind of airplane's self insert in many ways. and, honestly, he probably created the commentary aspect of it that is so clear to us as the readers unintentionally - at least at first; honestly he might have leaned into the irony of it all later imo, given his own seeming awareness of how utterly sad everything he writes is (because let's all face it as a community - given what we know of the original draft, airplane shooting towards the sky was a pure whump writer before he got forced into writing bad het porn for money. this is fascinating to me for other reasons, but i've already gone way off topic for this post, so uhm. another time on that maybe).

also, on the original post- i personally see binghe in general as pansexual-but-severely-demiromantic adjacent, given that, like.... i really don't think one could have sex with That Many Women without feeling something, and i also feel like it would be kind of dishonest to completely disregard him being anything but gay-or-straight when he did, in fact, in the end sleep with all those women and marry them. i do still think airplane's gay though, actually, because binghe's eventual sexuality meta-reflecting airplane's need-money-to-survive based writing decisions is deeply interesting to me- but all this leads back to the demiromanticism that op has already mentioned, in that it's likely bingge never formed a deep enough connection with anyone to truly fall in love the same way binghe had a shot to in his own life. (i'm honestly also of the take that bingge doesn't actually fall in love with shen qingqiu in the bingge vs bingmei extra, but AGAIN that would be material for an orginal post and not a reblog that's already full of me yapping for far too long.) so. yeah, he's just really fucking sad in any universe huh

you know I am willing to give luo binghe massive amounts of shit for being totally deranged because he is such a dick but also like, his very favorite person in the world did open their relationship by abusing him for actual years and then just turn on a dime and start spoiling him

and since he never got an explanation for any of that, even before he got thrown off a cliff into hell he had to choose between rejecting one of three positive personal relationships he'd experienced in his entire life (and the only one where he was getting as much support as he needed) or structuring his understanding of personal interaction so that history was actually cool and okay somehow, and like

literally anyone in that situation would have come out with some fucked-up norms about relationships and boundaries. i can only blame him so much for not knowing where lines ought to happen! his dataset is fucked.

[epicmarrowbonesoup]

Headcannon that postcannon Charles doesnt like leaving Edwin alone for long streches of time.

You know the way he did in the beggining of the show, leaving Edwin alone so that Charles could be with Crystal or just giving Edwin space to be with other people(Monty or Niko). I think post-Hell Charles Rowland would feel uneasy about not having Edwin in his line of sight while at the same time not wanting to make a big deal out of it.

Like how in the last episode Edwin is alone and Charles leaves others to pack so he could check up on Edwin, that sort of thing. Or how he was hessitent to follow Crystals plan at first becouse he has to rescue(see) Edwin ( to me it also looks like Charles was so busy rushing to Edwin he didnt noitice Nikos body but that might just be me)

Anyways i think it would be a fun direction to take Charles's characther in. Considering in s1 he is already weary of Edwin spending time with the Cat King, youd get that whole jealousy thing but doubled and mixed in with his feeling of inadequacy as the brawn. But also s1 establishes Charles as being at least partially insecure about their bond: having to correct Edwin whenever Edwin says how Charles would move on quickly and constanty seeking reassurment from edwin about their friendship (ep 1 when he asks what would happen if death came, ep 4 with his fight with the night nurse, seeing Brad and Hunter the best friends as him and Edwin)

And then you also have the reversal of how Edwin was jealous of Charles spending lots of times with Crystal and now Charles is protesting every second Edwin isnt with him. And ofcourse Charles does it from a place of fear and love but Edwin would maybe interpret it the wrong way, who knows?

And, from what the writers have told us, Edwin in s2 spent at least some amount of time flirting with other men (hopefully without Charles lurking in the background) and from what we know from that one cameo Jayden and George did, there was a lot of tension between the boys...

Now im not a writer i didnt write the s2 script or anything, im not saying this is what would have happened in s2 but.... i think the tension might have come from that. From Charles seeing Hell as a traumatic expirience and his PTSD manifesting as his insistence on Edwin not leaving his side, Charles's insecurities and his fear of losing Edwin being at an all time high. While Edwin, who has learnd how to forget Hell, is acting as if nothing happened at all, exploring his sexuality and making new friends in the process.

It would make Charles confront all of the skeletons he's been hiding in the closet but also it would ask the simple question of why is Charles so insecure in their friendship? Why is he constantly mentioning them being best mates? Why does he need it so much? Why is he constantly searching from reassurences that they are best friends?

And for more angst, from Edwins point of view he is doing everything Charles wanted him to do in s1. Hes accepting and letting the dead boy detectives workplace to grow and change, he is being more open and friendlier, he is encouraging Charles friendship/relationship with Crystal and he is no longer playing trauma Olympics at the drop of a hat. So why is Charles so mad? Hes working through his shame and his supiriority complex, hes growing as a person and Charles is still stuck at the staircase.

[cybershock24601]

Some more telanovela Rookanis ideas but now I'm thinking about Caterina who's made her peace with Rook staying in Lucanis life but still wants him to have a proper wife especially since its not like Lucanis or Rook have made any sort indication that they plan to get married anytime soon so it shouldn't be much of an issue to arrange a marriage for Lucanis while Rook stays as his mistress.

It's not like Caterina hasn't tried to arrange something for Lucanis before because she's been wanting great grandbabies to carry on the Dellamorte name for years but Lucanis simply never seemed interested. Now that Lucanis is with someone Caterina thinks there may be a chance for her to get him engaged to someone suitable for his station.

So Caterina starts reaching out to allied Houses and even some merchant princes to arrange something. Suddenly Villa Dellamorte is getting visits from different well bred girls to try their luck in catching the eye of the First Talon. It doesn't work at all. Lucanis politely refuses all their advances without even properly acknowledging their suits and even takes to making grand and public gestures of affection towards Rook in hopes of deterring them and assuring Rook that his heart still lies with her.

Rook knows Lucanis loves her and only her, has no worries about their relationship, and knows this all has to be Caterina's doing. Still, Rook is actually pretty jealous and possessive and absoutley seething about this disrecpt to her, Lucanis, and their relationship. Rook manages to keep her cool about the sitation and let Lucanis handle the situation however he sees fit but snaps when one of Lucanis' suitors says some dumb shit about not minding Rook staying around as the mistress.

There's this banter between Neve and Emmrich about a charm seller in Tevinter that is scamming people with fake magical charms. Emmrich is appalled by the danger it represents to the public and suddenly the guy is seeing and hearing things and essentially just being haunted to hell and back. Well, pretty much anyone that comes around attempting to woo Lucanis goes home suffering many of the same symptoms. Seeing things out of the corner of their eye, voices whispering and laughing about their worst secrets and insecurities, their nights filled with unending nightmares.

Anyone tries to ask Rook about the sudden uptick in hauntings and Rook plays dumb. Comes up with some vapid excuse full of jargon that any actual necromancer would spot immediately and acts so concerned about the issue but she doesn’t crack and it’s a little scary just how well Rook is able to lie to everyone’s faces because if it weren’t incredibly obvious that Rook had to be the one behind the hauntings, they’d probably believe her. Teia resolves to never get on Rook’s bad side and Viago is pondering how best to create a hallucinogenic to simulate the effects because the way Rook has crippled whole Houses with fear is inspiring. Illario is suddenly doing a whole lot to try to to get into Rook’s good books and Rook is so off put by his behavior that’s she tells him to please stop and go back to being the bitch he is, she honestly likes him better that way.

Lucanis skirts around the issue with Rook and continues to try to assure her that he loves her and only her to which Rook responds that she knows and loves him too but that doesn’t mean she’s willing to sit idly by while people disrespect the depths of their love for each other which is about as close as to a confession Rook gives. Spite asks Rook about it too on a late night after Lucanis has gone to bed and Rook’s response to him is basically “yeah” and Spite lets out the most gleeful cackle Rook’s ever heard because he is delighted by her spiteful vengeance.

The hauntings start to taper off once Lucanis’ suitors stop coming around and the girl that started all this even came to Rook to beg her to make it all stop. Rook, still pretty pissed about her comments, continued to play dumb and essentially gaslit her the whole conversation but did stop the haunting a few days later because she’s not a monster and did feel a little bad the whole situation.

In the end Caterina’s scheme backfired horribly on her as it damaged her relationship with many of the houses she reached out for and strengthened Rook’s own position in the Crows because before she was generally seen as charming, affable, a little creepy due to the whole necromancer thing, and a bit foolish due to Rook’s willingness to make herself the butt of a joke but no one really took her seriously due to mismatch of her personality and reputation as a god killer so most of the Houses assumed her feats were exaggerated, now everyone is kinda terrified of Rook and what she can do. Whereas before people might have yielded to the former First Talon when she called in a favor, now they have to consider whether it would be worth it to cross scary necromancer Rook to do so. Rook basically ends up with a reputation amongst the Crows intimidating enough to match with the Demon of Vyrantium.

During and after this Rook probably gets a few letters from the Necropolis mostly from Emmrich, Myrna, and Vorgoth as they definitely heard about the uptick in hauntings in Antiva and every single one of those letter essentially amounted to asking Rook “really?” to which Rook replied “yes and I feel perfectly justified in doing so” but in more words and without ever outright admitting to her actions.

It’s also after all this that Lucanis officially asks Rook to marry him, something they had been holding off on because they wanted to spend some time finding their footing in their relationship before jumping into the craziness of planning a wedding. Lucanis doesn’t want anyone thinking he isn’t serious about Rook after everything that just happened and Rook gets her chance for revenge against Caterina because now she’s going to have to contend with Vorgoth in the wedding planning process. Vorgoth has been putting together a binder of all their wedding ideas for Rook for years and is very excited to finally be able to execute them.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiebingo.

Slip Slidin' Away

12 Days of Christmas Prompt: Coat | Word Count: 1355 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Tags: Modern Day AU, Ice Storm, Neighbors Meet Cute, FYP Getting *Far* Too Local

Eddie reaches for his phone. It's buzzing against his thigh again. He's getting annoyed. His doorbell camera has been going apeshit for the last ten minutes, but every time he checks, nobody's out there. 

Another notification, another annoyance, and this time he actually pulls up the recorded clip instead of just the live feed to see what kind of insect has survived the freeze just to terrorize him. 

It's not a bug, though.

It's worse. It's a man, on a pair of ice skates, gliding up and down their frozen street. 

What in the actual fuck? Is he crazy? This guy isn't even wearing a coat, but he glides into, and then out of view, on honest to god skates. In the street. Who the fuck is this dude?

Eddie watches the rest of that clip, then a couple more, before he puts his phone out of his reach, not picking it up again until it actually rings.

"It's too cold for band practice," Gareth says by way of hello, and well, no shit. None of them should be out in this weather. Especially not Eddie, he's a terrible driver under regular circumstances. On ice? Recipe for disaster, for sure.

"What gave it away, the solid sheet of ice or the freezing temperatures?"

"Asshole," Gareth laughs. "I'm just saying. Don't come slip slidin' away over here. You'll die."

"Speaking of slip slidin', Simon, there's a dude skating in the street outside the house," Eddie tells him. "He keeps setting off my doorbell cam."

"Like, hockey skating or figure skating?" Gareth asks, and fuck if Eddie knows? 

"I don't know. He's got blades strapped to his feet and a death wish." 

"Sounds familiar," Gareth says.

Eddie ignores him. He's crazy and reckless, but he's not skate in the street crazy. There's a difference, surely.

"He's not even wearing a coat. I'd at least wear a coat to my death."

"Because you're a delicate flower with no circulation."

Eddie laughs. He's not delicate, but he is cold-blooded to his core. 

"How long is this ice storm supposed to last?" Eddie asks. He hates this kind of bitter cold.

"Three days, give or take."

Three days. He can handle three days without interacting with another human being.

Later, when he's laying in bed doom scrolling, he gets a text from Gareth:

Eddie opens the link, and it's definitely his street, and is the video of the skating guy. The other POV? He thinks that's the right term, but he wouldn't bet the farm on it. Either way, the account's name is Robin, and with a quick glance through her profile, he suspects she's the wife of Mr. Skates. 

These must be his neighbors. He's done a pretty damn good job at avoiding meeting anyone, but here they are, on his phone. Small world.

She's razzing the shit out of him in the clip, and Eddie thinks she's not wrong. Dude's lucky he didn't catch a rock taller than the sheet of ice with his skate and eat shit. 

He's gorgeous. It loops again, and again.

Eddie watches him lace up his skates, over and over, and hit the icy street, laughing the whole time. 

Why is this video an hour long? 

He lets it cycle through one more time, gives it a like and a favorite, and Eddie's not much for social media, or playing nice with neighbors, but he leaves a comment before overthinking it. 

It's not until the next night, back in bed, his phone in his hand that he realizes there's a metric shit-ton of notifications waiting for him. Mainly likes on his comment and then a couple responses. This video must have blown up today. Which makes sense, if it was pushed into Gareth's feed for him to even see to send to Eddie, lots of other people must have gotten it, too.

His neighbors have responded, but were mainly just bantering with each other:

Well, now Eddie's embarrassed. Nice moves? He didn't realize this was gonna go public. Especially since this guy is good looking. Way to make a fool of yourself in front of the hot, new neighbor. Jesus H. Christ. 

He really needs to think things through before he says — or types — them. 

Oh well. He'll avoid them. That hasn't been hard to do so far, last night's assault on his camera, notwithstanding.

The next morning, Eddie's carefully tiptoeing outside to retrieve his mail, trying not to bust his ass on the ice that just will not melt, three days his fucking ass, when a yellow blur is zooming towards him. It comes to an abrupt stop, ice dust flying, right on the iced over pavement right in front of Eddie's mailbox. It's kinda impressive.

"You're Ed, right?" he asks.

"Eddie, yeah. Steve?" Eddie questions, and so much for not interacting. But the guy nods, giving him a bright smile. They shake hands, and now Eddie's met his neighbors. Anti-social streak over.

"That's me, I can't believe you saw our video from next door!" 

Eddie doesn't think he needs to go into a bunch of details on how it was really Gareth whose algorithm got fed it, so he just nods along, "Small world, indeed." 

"Robin is dying that it went kinda viral." 

"Your wife?" Eddie asks, and Steve nearly falls off his skates laughing. 

"No. No way. Best friend. Platonic with a capital P. Hetero life mates, except for the hetero part." 

Eddie's ears definitely perk up at that. 

"Well, I feel lucky to be on the non-hetero side of the street, then." 

Steve grins, "Oh, you definitely lucked out. Mr. Hollins across the street is straight enough for the whole neighborhood." 

Eddie doesn't know who that is, but laughs anyway.

Then has an idea: 

"So, I have an important question," Eddie says, and Steve just looks at him, curious and expectant. 

"Are those hockey skates or figure skates?" 

Steve holds onto Eddie's mailbox and laughs, head tossed back, hair flying. It's perfect. He's perfect.

"Hockey, but that doesn't mean I don't have moves. I have moves for days. Don't you worry." 

"Moves, you say? Well, let's see 'em, big boy."

Steve smiles, and pushes off into the street. Eddie ribbed him for no coat last night, and now here Eddie is, outside, no coat, freezing his ass off as he's demanding his cute neighbor skate for him. 

He takes out his phone, and starts recording. Even he knows this will be a popular update to their little moment. 

Steve skates backwards, crossing his legs over each other. 

"Can you jump?" Eddie yells. 

"It's not advised!" Steve yells back, "But, since when do I ever listen to advise! Waltz!" 

He does a little jump, and lands on one foot skating backwards. Eddie hoots and hollers, and Steve takes a bow. 

And that's it. He skates over and Eddie can't stop staring at him. 

"You want to come in for coffee? Warm up?" Eddie offers, unwilling to let him just leave. 

"Hell yeah, sure," Steve agrees, and Eddie watches him skate up the driveway, and then stop on the porch to take off his skates. He holds onto Eddie's shoulder to balance himself, and Eddie can feel his warm hand, fingers gripping his skin, through his shirt.

He wants those hands in other places.

Oh, he's in trouble. Big, big trouble.

Steve has on big, thick socks and looks so cozy in his sweater as he follows Eddie in the house. 

"It's nice to have a good neighbor again. The last lady," Steve says, then gives two big thumbs down, blowing a raspberry.

Eddie laughs. He's never been considered the good neighbor before. Not with his shitty van, long hair and too loud music. 

He starts a pot of coffee, and looks in the fridge. He has a few things, and he wants Steve to stay as long as possible. Eddie has some wooing to do.

"You hungry?" 

"I could eat," Steve admits. "I can always eat. Hollow leg, all the sports will do that to you."

And Eddie starts fixing this hot guy, who's certainly way out of his league, no matter which sport, breakfast.

If you want to sign up for a future bingo event or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiebingo and follow along with the fun! 🧥

Notes: I saw a video of someone ice skating on the street, and their neighbor saw it and commented like, "Hey! That's my car in the background!"

Slip Slidin' Away is a Paul Simon song.

Hetero life mates is a Jay & Silent Bob reference.

[naanima]

Wrote this in an hour. So a bit rough, unedited, and will be posted to Ao3 sometime in the next two days or so. Hopefully a bit more detailed and edited... Maybe. LOLs.

Maxiel, soulmates. ~1k words

Phase Sensitive Imprint

Daniel woke up to the left side of his torso burning, like nails digging into his skin, pulling and pushing, gouging itself into him. It left him curled up into himself, unable to scream because the pain had left him breathless, gasping for air like a fish on land. He couldn't think, he couldn't move, the only thing he could do was wait it out.

It could have been seconds, it could have been hours, when it finally stopped, he was a slab of tenderised meat. His muscles were in pain, pushed to the point of snapping. His joints ached, swollen and tender. He could feel tears and snot down his face. The night light hurt his eyes, the sound of the aircon felt like the sound of an airplane flying over his house. He was an exposed nerve.

He laid there in a curled up foetal position on his sweat soaked bed for a very long time. He didn't want to move, he didn't want to look at where the pain had been. He knew what it was. Everyone on earth knew what it was. It was your soul mark appearing.

Millions upon millions of words, art, music, and wars throughout human history has been dedicated to the subject of the appearance of soul marks. It was rare, scientists thought it was only about four point one percent of the population that ended up with a soul mark. It could happen at any time to anyone. It could appear on a newborn, it could appear on two people who had known each other for decades, it could happen to two complete strangers from two different parts of the world. There was no rhyme and reason, just that when your soul mark appeared, your whole being was suddenly changed for one directive - to find your soulmate.

For the longest time soul marks were considered to be evil, to be tragic, to be something to be hidden. It changed people, and the benefits were too many. And then a shift, and suddenly it was the most romantic thing to ever happen to someone. Now there were government mandated websites for people to find their soulmate. Daniel supposed he was lucky that he lived in an era that wasn't going to burn him at the stake just because he got a soul mark.

It could appear on any part of a body, in any size, shape and colour. Daniel has seen pictures of a solar system in rainbow colour across someone's arms, patterns of geometric shapes on someone's lips, too many animals to count, an endless supply of images that seemed limitless. Daniel was just glad it didn't fucking pop up on his face.

From the spread of pain, Daniel was fairly sure the size of his soul mark was fucking huge. There didn't appear to be a true scientific correlation between the size, colour and shape of your soul mark and how much your soulmate loved you, just that the soul mark represented your soul mate somehow. But there was some anecdotal evidence of large soul marks being related to greatness or some shit. Well, his soul mate was gonna go be fucking disappointed because Daniel was a fucking washed up cunt without a job. So maybe something small like a fucking mosquito.

And fuck, Daniel could already feel the pull of his soulmate, the urge to crawl out of his bed and just start walking in the direction his soul mate was at. It was under his skin, in his bones, his brain was screaming at him to fucking move.

Fuck, no wonder people used to get fucking killed, thought to be possessed by the devil when their soul mark appeared. Daniel was bone tired, in pain, fucking sentive to every physical sensation, and yet he wanted to strap himself into a F1 car and drive it into a fucking wall at 300km per hour. He grappled through the sheets till he found his phone. The advice by health professionals was to take some painkillers, drink some calming tea, and then take some clear photos of your soul mark to upload them onto the soulmate registry. Daniel was too fucking tired to get to the medicine cabinet in his bathroom, he just needed to take the fucking photos, upload them and then maybe knock himself out by hammering his head against the fucking wall.

When he finally got his phone he saw countless missed calls and messages, and just what the fuck.

The top messages were from Michelle and Blake.

Best Sister: Did you see the clip? It is everywhere. Shit. Looked like he was in a tonne of pain. Fuck, to get your soul mark like that in public too.

Blake BFF: Don't panic. He seems ok. But fuck Kelly and P looked freaked out.

And he didn't need to read more, didn't need to dig out the video of what happened. He just knew.

He took a long shuddery breath, dropped his phone, and slowly untangled the sheets from his body. When he was finally free from the sheets, he was on his back and looking up at his ceiling. He felt insane, he didn't know if he wanted it to be what he thought it was or if it was a mark completely different from what he imagined.

“Come on, Daniel. Don't be a fucking useless cunt. Fucking look,” he muttered to himself.

And yeah, fuck it. Daniel sat up and looked down to the left side of his torso. It was beautiful. It was gold and large, covering a third of his chest. It started from his shoulder all the way down his hip. And Daniel was crushed with a sense of relief and calm. He kept staring at it till his phone buzzed at him. He blinked and automatically picked up his phone and looked down. It was a message from Max.

There were no words, just a picture.

Butterflies in a multitude of colours surrounded by a field of sunflowers curved around Max’s right shoulder all the way down his right chest, his side and to his hips.

And Daniel started laughing. Tears rolled down his face, and he had to do something, and had to reach for Max. It took him three attempts to find Max’s number and hit call. Max picked up straight away.

“Daniel,” Max whispered, voice soft and so fucking in love. And Daniel wanted to reach through his phone and touch Max, touch his mark on Max.

“Max, Maxy, Maximus, Max, your lion is imprinted into my body.”

[pacofprunes]

die with a smile

daeho x reader

warnings — angst, pure drabble, death, typical squid game shit, crying, gunshots, mentions of blood, inspired by bruno mars and lady g’s song “die with a smile.”

you and daeho had known each other before you joined the games. you both always had a thing for each other, neither wanting to confess. you always feared that if you got together, what if he died in the marines? and he always worried that what if you’d say no? but both of you being in terrible debt, neither one fessing up to the other, joining the games and seeing each other across the room, it felt like the world just stopped for you two.

after the first game and realizing this was a life or death type of thing, you found him once it was over and gave him the tightest hug you could give. he squeezed you back as you cried into his shoulder.

“why would you come? why wouldn’t you tell me? how stupid could you be dae?”

he wipes your tears with his thumb as they keep flowing and he laughs softly.

“you’re here too, remember? no need to yell at me about it. why wouldn’t you tell me?”

you just stay silent and place your face in his chest as he rubs his hand through your hair.

“we’ll stick together. i won’t let anything happen to you, i promise.”

you press your face away from his chest and look up at him.

“really?”

he smiles at you. that signature smile that could light up the whole room.

“wherever you go that’s where I’ll follow”

the second game, you guys were on the same team. you guys made it but seeing all those people die around you, all the blood on the floor that you almost slipped on while racing to the finish line for your life had opened your eyes completely. you couldn’t stay here. voting came around and you pressed the big red ‘X’. you watched as dae-ho’s turn came around and prayed he’d make the smart choice. he hits the red ‘X’ and switches out the blue ‘O’ on his chest before walking over to you and smiling, hooking his arm underneath yours as you lean your head against his shoulder.

after the night comes around he gets up and nudges your shoulder, trying to wake you up. you start to move and finally get up and rub your eyes, immediately smiling once you see it’s him. you pat a spot on your bed, giving him a sign to sit with you. he hops up and you lean your head on his shoulder and he wraps his arm around yours.

“dae, do you think we’ll get out of here?”

he goes to speak but you cut him off.

“alive.”

he thinks for a little and it’s silent but then he squeezes your shoulder before speaking.

“i think we’ll get out of here together.”

you take a deep breath and almost hold it there. all the tension in your body threatening to spill. he looks at you concerned before a shaky breath spills out of your mouth.

“dae, i don’t wanna do this anymore.”

the tears well up in your eyes before you can even speak but you stop yourself from talking more and hold your breath once again to keep them in. he pulls you into his chest and wraps his hand around your head and keeps your face in the crook of his neck as he feels the spot get wetter and wetter. he takes a deep breath now before speaking.

“i love you.”

you still and move away, looking at him with your teary eyes in shock.

“what..?”

“i love you.”

he holds his breath. scared of what you may say. hoping he read all the signs correctly and that it was the right time to admit it.

“dae, we can’t.”

he chokes on his own breath, upset about what you may be insinuating.

“why? im sorry.”

you put your hand on his cheek and squeeze his hand with your other hand.

“don’t be sorry. i love you too. but we can’t. if you were to die here, i don’t know what i’d do. if i was left here without you, i—”

he presses you into a tight kiss, bring his free hand up to your cheek while you’re still holding his other and pulls away.

“that’s only going to make me love you even harder. knowing that you feel so deeply about me. i feel the same. but i told you,”

he cups your face with both hands now.

“wherever you go that’s where i’ll follow. as long as you’re here i’m not going anywhere.”

you stare, almost looking through his eyes now and you speak, taking a breath.

“nobody’s promised tomorrow.”

he smiles at you before leaning his forehead into yours and looking into your eyes.

“but as long as you’re here i am.”

—

the third game comes around and was finally announced. it was definitely intense and quite nerve wrecking but daeho makes sure to give you a smile of reassurance.

he squeezes your hand tight as the platform spins around. the speaker called for five people in a room. you run together but you end up getting separated. he’s in a room, the perfect amount of people, but he notices you out there instead of in with him. somebody else was right next to the door he was in, so he opens it and lets them in, allowing them to lock it behind him. gi-hun screams for him, but he just runs to you. he locks you in a hug and you guys pull away and just look each other in the eyes.

“dae-ho, i don’t wanna do this anymore.”

he cups your face in his hands.

“we don’t have to anymore, my love, i love you so much.”

you place your heads in each others necks, hugging as tight as possible, just like before when you first arrived, and then you both tense against each other. gunshots ringing through the air, into your ears, and through your bodies. you both fall to the ground, still in each others arms. with the few breaths he has left, he cups your face in his hand one last time, sending a smile your way. tears filling your eyes before they finally shut, you smile back to him. and even when you both pass, that smile never fully fades.

[mysticqueer]

an invitation (thanos x reader) Pt 1/3

A softer take on Thanos.

TW: depression, drugs, reader is going through some shit

Despite what some might think, working at Seoul's most exclusive nightclub wasn't always the best job around.

Sure, the nights were usually exciting—to say the least—and the customers always tipped well. But it also meant seeing the darker sides of the rich and famous clientele that frequented the space. You couldn't count how many idols—so beloved by their fans—turned into complete assholes the second they left the public eye. More than once you'd had to call a taxi for those idols after finding them passed out in their own puke. You'd occasionally thought about how much you could get for just one picture sold to the right tabloid. But you never gave in. This was the place that celebrities came to avoid the never ending spotlight.

Still, the job was good. It paid well, even without the tips. You got the opportunity to serve some of Seoul's greatest, and you had no shortage of crazy memories that would last you long into your old age.

But being a female bartender in any establishment came with its own dangers and annoyances. And the most prominent of those annoyances for you personally came with a name- Thanos.

At first, you weren't quite sure how exactly he'd gained entry. You'd heard of him before, but being a semi-successful rapper didn't get him on the same wealth level as your usual customers. You figured he must have known somebody important to get in. And he frequented your bar as consistently as he painted his nails.

The first time you met him, he'd spotted you from across the room and pushed his way through the crowd to get to you. He'd flirted with you nearly the whole night, never giving in to your disinterested responses. When he'd finally left at the end of the night, he made sure to see you off with such an enthusiastic goodbye that you'd think he'd known you for years.

This had been a near daily pattern for the last three weeks or so. He'd come in to the club and seat himself at your bar. He'd flirt, all crazed grins and dilated pupils, until he was too wasted to tell one person from another, at which point one of his friends would drag him home. And while you always rejected his advances—you did like to humor him sometimes. You couldn't deny that he was attractive: exactly your type, really. And he could be surprisingly charming when he wasn't stoned out of his mind. So he'd flirt, and you'd tease him in return, often even taking him by surprise. You liked seeing his face heat up, his ears tinged red, and his surprised yet gleeful expression.

And when one night he invited you back to his place, you'd actually considered it. You really had. But you knew, just like you knew the sun would rise the next morning, that being in a relationship with him would only hurt you in the end. It wasn't that you thought he was a bad person, really. You'd seen a lot of horrible men in your life—the kind of men you couldn't trust to hold your drink. But Thanos didn't strike you as that type. He could be obnoxious with his flirting, sure, but he never pushed so hard as to make anybody uncomfortable. He'd get into fights sometimes, but he never started any that weren't deserved. Overall, he gave you the impression of somebody trying to act tougher than they were, like a kitten spiking its fur to seem intimidating. He was almost cute, in that way.

No, it wasn't any of that that put you off of him. It was those colorful pills he kept in a cross around his neck. It was the white powder he'd see sprinkled onto his nose, when he was too far gone to even wipe it off. It was how he would drink himself into oblivion, if you didn't cut him off beforehand. You'd seen a lot of addicts in your life, even loved some of them. And there were few things more painful than watching somebody you care about deteriorate into a person they weren't. You'd seen many people like him, both famous and not. And you could count on one hand the different possible paths he was going down. Very few of them ended happily.

So you passed out drinks, and he flirted, and you teased him. You observed him from afar, watching the drugs control him more than himself. And you felt kind of bad. You had this strange urge to help him, somehow. To save him from himself and his self-destructive tendencies. But you also knew you'd only hurt yourself in the process. And Thanos, as immature as he often acted, was an adult capable of ruining his own life, if that's what he wanted.

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You'd had a very, very shitty week. The type of week that could steer your life off track. Your future, fucked. Your relationships, fucked. Everything, fucked.

But life was life, and so you went to work. One of the few constants you had left. You poured drink after drink, fighting the urge to down them yourself. The pain, the betrayal, the fear of the future all seemed to swirl together in your stomach into something bitter and resigned. The kind of feeling that makes you do stupid shit, because why the fuck not?

It was something you'd felt many a time before. It's something you recognized in the surrounding faces so often, including Thanos'. It was a downward spiral. Seeking numbness would only lead to worse decisions. Whether or not you realized it, you'd come out the other end changed, usually for the worst.

The thing was, it was too hard to care.

"Senoritaaaaaaaa-" the upbeat voice came barreling around the corner, bringing with it the familiar purple-haired boy wearing his trademark grin. Thanos slides onto the barstool directly in front of you, leaning half his body on the bar. "Miss me, baby?" He says in English—something he does a lot when flirting. He sends an exaggerated wink your way.

You try, but fail to muster your usual playfulness when Thanos comes around. Instead, you sent him a wane smile, looking back down quickly as somehow his bright personality feels too much for you at the moment. "Usual?" you ask, already pulling out a glass.

In your peripheral vision, Thanos nudges his friend that you hadn't even noticed before now. "See? She knows me so well." He says. You don't even have the energy to roll your eyes. When you don't respond and simply slide his drink across the bar, Thanos waits a beat before speaking again. He holds up one finger in a 'wait' gesture, and you internally sigh.

"I think I'm in the mood for something sweeter tonight." He says, eyes still on you.

You can already feel the set up to some shitty pick up line. But instead of playing into it, you ask "So you want a mixer?"

Thanos actually scoffs at the question, seeming almost offended. "Come on, babe, you know I'm not a bitch like that," he says, and you do actually roll your eyes this time. Especially when he leans forward even more, bringing himself only a few inches from your face. "But I was thinking your lips are sweet enough, yeah?" Thanos puckers his lips, tapping them with one finger.

It's not the first time he's tried something of this caliber. Normally, you'd come up with a sarcastic comeback or push him backwards with the palm of your hand. This time you do neither, simply sliding him his drink and walking away.

You don't look towards Thanos as you start to help another customer, but you can almost sense a stunned silence coming from his direction. You're only just finishing up with the other patron when Thanos slides back into your line of vision. Holding a hand up in front of his face and waving it. With some effort, you ignore him again, grabbing some glasses to wash.

You think you can hear Thanos' friend say something to him. And Thanos himself stubbornly pushes himself back into your line of sight. He waves again, only to get the same result. "I must be invisible," Thanos jokes to his friend. "Come onnnn, babe," he drawls in a whining tone.

At last you lose patience. Setting down the glass you're washing with a loud clank, you look up at him. You aren't sure what expression you have on right now, but it seems to take Thanos aback.

"Do you need something? I'm kind of busy," you snap, gesturing towards the other customers at the bar. In truth, you really aren't that busy. And you know it isn't particularly fair to Thanos, switching up your attitude towards him so suddenly. But you're so fucking tired, and you just can't deal with his sunshine-y persona right now.

You expect him to be annoyed. Mad, even. But instead his eyebrows furrow up, forming an expression you haven't seen on him before. "Did I do something wrong?" he asks, voice still exaggerated but a bit lower than it was before.

When you don't answer, he drops his chin to the bar pitifully, gazing up at you with a good imitation of sad puppy eyes. And it really isn't fair that this guy, this piece of shit drug-addicted rapper, makes such effective puppy eyes. But unfortunately, he is actually pretty cute. Maybe it's the eye makeup that makes his eyes pop? No- stop thinking about that. You force yourself to turn away from the despairing boy.

Just as you think you've finally shaken him off, he appears at the end of the bar, full body within your line of sight. He drops to his knees, forming a comically exaggerated 'begging' pose.

"The Great Thanos apologizes for your grievances," he says, bowing his head at you. "whatever they may be. And begs your forgiveness, oh gorgeous one." He blinks up at you, winking once again with a playful smirk on his face. But there's something else in his eyes, something more real. Does he genuinely think he's done something wrong to you? Of course, he's annoyed the hell out of you, consistently. But you've never really minded much before.

At his dramatic display (which is drawing a crowd, you realize with exhaustion) your expression softens minutely, and you give in. "You haven't done anything, Thanos. I'm just having a shitty day, okay?"

Thanos' eyes widen in understanding. He stands up again, and he sits back at the bar. To your relief, the crowd he'd drawn with his theatrics quickly disperses. "Anything the great Thanos can help with?" he asks, still playful to an extent but seeming genuine. You can't help but smile at him.

"Just some personal stuff. Nothing you can help with. Just go have fun, yeah?" you push his drink towards him one more time. Thanos nods slightly in understanding.

"You know where I am, yeah?" he blows you a quick kiss before disappearing into the crowd.

You sigh, getting back to work. But you can't deny that you feel a little lighter now, somehow.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Despite finally getting the rapper to leave you be, it isn't the last time you see him that night. He drops by your bar even more often than usual. Sometimes not even getting a drink. Instead, he drops by to tell you dumb jokes, stories that are too insane to be true, and even the occasional failed magic trick. But he doesn't push you to respond like he normally would.

Every now and then, you can't help but quirk a smile at his antics. And whenever you do, he instantly lights up like a little kid at an amusement park. Every time he leaves, he sends you a smile and a salute as if to say, "I'll be back."

By the end of the night, you're exhausted. Not in the physical way, but in the deep-seated way when your soul is just so drained you can't think about anything. You aren't surprised when a familiar boy plops himself down at your bar that's now empty.

It seems it's not only your energy is drained, but his as well. His energy is far calmer than usual and makes you wonder if he's more sober tonight than he normally is. He smiles at you impishly, with just a hint of something else. ... Anxiety? Surely not. Anxiety is the last you'd ever associate with him.

"I have an invitation for you-" he starts, and the word 'no' is on the very tip of your tongue. Your lips nearly form the word when he interrupts you suddenly. "Wait!" he exclaims, holding one hand up as if to make you pause. "Party at my place. Before you say no, I promise you, it will be the" he stops for a second, looking for the words. "Best night of your life," he finally finishes in English.

You notice suddenly the group of drunk stragglers hanging out nearby, waiting for Thanos. Going to his 'party' as well, you assume.

No. No. Absolutely not. The word forms, takes shape, and is about to come out when you glance down at his hand. His palm, which you previously thought to be empty, is actually holding something.

A pill, hardly the size of a dime, and the same purple as his hair. You knew instantly what it was—a new party drug that only started hitting the streets recently. You'd observed countless people take it, watching the unnaturally strong energy and euphoria take over their minds.

It's a bad idea. You glance back up at Thanos, who is being surprisingly patient waiting for your response. You look into his eyes, his pretty, pretty eyes.

The dark mass swirls inside your stomach. You imagine yourself saying 'no'. Going home alone to your apartment. Eating crappy takeout and thinking about how fucked up your life has gotten.

Well, you've made worse decisions before.

You reach for his hand.

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[lilacxquartz]

sickly sweet;

kenjaku x f!reader

plot: just as you got ill, your once distant husband started to be caring again — themes: one shot, domestic dread, character study, problematic mindset/themes, manipulation — w.c: 2k • masterlist

a/n: this is a story about kenjaku but the reader is unaware of such a fact… so the name we refer to him as is via suguru/geto and why it’s tagged as such.

For the longest time, you thought that there was something a little… off-putting about your husband.

It wasn’t always this way, but ever since he came back home following an accident, he changed for the worse. Before then, he was vibrant and abuzz with energy and then… something simply just changed. You caught wind of something happening within the cult, but you couldn’t investigate too much—what with you being pregnant with your first child. When he came back seemingly and alive unscathed—save for the stitches that ran across his forehead—you didn’t care to ask too many questions for as long as he was safe and sound.

(A short-lived feeling though; for what lingered just beneath the surface, left dread in its wake.)

The decline of what once made Suguru himself was a slow one, like a thick seeping venom that took its good, sweet time to enter your system. Before you tell something was amiss, he was already deep within your bloodstream—you were hooked—poisoned, yet unaware of just how devastating the damage truly was.

If you had to go back to when you first noticed that something was off, then perhaps when he tried to reintegrate back into your life. It was an ordinary event. He was simply just getting back home late one night and greeted you in the hallway as he stepped inside. At a glance, this would have been normal, but something didn’t feel quite right.

You remembered that sinking feeling of realisation perfectly well.

That moment when you were looking back into the eyes of a stranger, wearing the skin of the man you once knew—of the man that you once loved.

He’d announce his arrival too, singing out your name in a melody that felt forced, “I’m home,” he’d say, his smooth voice feeling somehow rehearsed.

Suguru’s characteristic warmth started to fade the more that you noticed such quirks, the delicately crafted facade beginning to crack. The kindness was retained, but there was a certain underlying edge to it as if he was playing a fabricated role rather than being the man you wanted him to be.

Still, you chose to ignore it. At least at first. You told yourself that if there was an accident, then maybe it was just his personality that was off and if given enough time, it would all smooth over.

(Although, it never did.)

As the months passed you both by, and the man claiming to be Suguru grew colder and more distant, too. Sure, he lived with you and practiced small talk with you, but it all felt fake, somehow. It was as if you were a temporary obstacle in the grand scheme of things and he was simply humouring you whenever he cared to, often disappearing into the night without warning.

Initially, you suspected adultery. It wouldn’t have been too far of a reach, knowing that some people, no matter how well you think you’d know them, would still succumb to temptation… but that didn’t seem to be the case. Whenever he returned, he would be the same just as he was before. Cold and distant. Should you have tried to initiate something intimate too, then he wouldn’t deny you such pleasures, but it always left you feeling unclean, somehow used instead. The moves he pulled were certainly familiar and something that Suguru would do, but it was devoid of the same tenderness that Suguru had.

So for the most part, you stopped initiating and also, you didn’t pay too much attention to him again. For the time being, you cared more to focus on your pregnancy and then hopefully leave somewhere far away from this whole mess.

(But then you got sick.)

It was deep into your pregnancy when you fell ill, bordering just below the final term. A low-grade fever that crept into your system, throwing you off balance. While you initially thought it to be fine, it was hard to ignore by the end of the week. You didn’t think that whoever was occupying your husband’s body would notice such a thing, but something awoke in him from the moment he did.

This deeply caring side of him was hard to dismiss, too, given that it felt close to how Suguru used to be with you.

Just like before, it didn’t take too long for you to notice the changes in his demeanour, the differences being almost jarring by that point. You woke up to the rush of cold air spilling into the room, watching on through partially blurred vision as the sheer curtains wafted in the breeze.

Suguru’s voice played in the background as he addressed you, his voice smooth like molten honey, “You’re awake.”

You initially didn’t respond as you were still waking up. Your eyes flicked over to where he sat on the edge of the bed, watching somewhat warily as he smoothed his palms across your blanketed form, his touch almost reverent.

“Some fresh air will do you good,” he softly murmured before stepping away to the dresser, bringing over a cup of tea to your nightstand table, “I brewed you some tea too. Ginger and honey, just how you like it.”

You warily eyed the cup but didn’t refuse it. The pleasant aroma filled your senses and soothed you as the steam rose and after about a minute, you sat up to take a sip, finding that the warmth from the tea actually did help a bit.

Just as you set the cup down though, Suguru moved closer, extending his hand to press against your forehead, his touch feeling cold against your heated flesh.

“You’re so warm…” he whispered, his thumb brushing along your temple and down your cheekbones. “I should have been more… attentive. Forgive me for being so busy.”

You blinked up at him as the tea settled in your body. Something about this whole interaction filled you with unease as if the applied sweetness wasn’t genuine.

“I’m fine,” you croaked, “really,” you emphasised after a hot second.

Suguru however just hummed, his voice taking on a condescending tone, “Oh, but you’re not, are you?” he asked, curling his lips into a calm, measured smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, his gaze appearing devoid of any warmth, “worry not though, my love, I’ll take care of everything.”

Relief wasn’t quite what you felt however as he hovered around you for the remainder of your sickness, locking himself into your shadow day and night, seemingly abandoning his work to tend to you. He urged you to eat, and hydrate and even helped you bathe, prattling on about the importance of vapours when one felt congested.

“You’re not usually this caring,” you let slip as you settled into bed, regretting your word choice right away. The atmosphere of the room changed within a beat at such an admission and though you tried to backtrack, the dread had already settled.

Suguru’s smile faltered, seeming almost offended(?)

“I may have been busy, yes…” he trailed off, his eyes drifting away from you before giving you back his attention tenfold, “but you’re still… my wife, correct? I have to apply my priorities carefully. You’re… important to me.”

The way that he referred to you as his wife didn’t feel as comforting as his intention might have been; the term felt almost possessive as if laced with warning. The way he said it and how he said it, was a little bit too deliberate—as if he was trying to convince himself of a role he had to maintain.

Still, the hours dragged on throughout the rest of the evening without an issue, or so he thought. He encouraged you to sip on hot broth whenever you were lucid enough and sat at your side vigilantly, watching you with a sharp eye to ensure that nothing would go wrong.

Such intensely applied care, however, soon started to feel suffocating by the end of the day and all you wanted to do was to have a break and sleep the flu away. You didn’t mean to snap the way that you did, fully expecting him to nip or protest at your attitude from the moment you let your composure slip away, but he didn’t.

“—please,” you spat out, unable to hold back any longer as you pushed him away, “just—I… I need to sleep.”

For a moment, a brief hint of anger flashed across his features, but then he simply schooled his expression into that same cold smile from before.

“Of course,” he murmured, brushing your hair away from your eyes, “I should have known. Please, rest for as long as you need to.”

You gulped down all of your unease beyond that point, too exhausted to care, but later in the night—you woke up and something felt wrong. Your eyes fluttered open with a jarring start as your breath caught in the back of your throat. You tried to swallow, but it felt like sharp glass resided in your lungs, the sensation like fire when you tried to breathe in or out. Your eyes struggled to adjust to the dark, but a familiar figure sat unnervingly close to where you lay.

��Suguru…?” you called out.

He must have remained close to you the entire night, even after you had fallen asleep. His deep gaze fixed on you with such a grave intensity that it stole the rest of the air away from the room, leaving you barely able to breathe at that point, feeling suffocated from being so close.

Before you could call out to him again though, Suguru hushed you with the application of his fingers pressed right against your lips. He then leaned closer, allowing the smell of something vaguely metallic to fill your senses, but also medicinal or even herbal.

You listened to his silent request to keep in bed, feeling as his fingertips swept across the side of your neck using soft, featherlight strokes, to trace along your pulse point. His touch lingered for a little too long as he settled around the area, pressing firmly enough that you could feel the blood flowing.

(A warning, perhaps?)

“Go back to sleep,” he softly parted a bit clearer that time, following up with a gentle hum to the tune of a lullaby you didn’t know. Despite how soothing it felt, your innate instincts were screaming at you to distance yourself—to not let this person get too close—that this wasn’t Suguru.

(But your exhaustion simply took you over.)

“That’s right,” he whispered, his breath rolling hot against your forehead as he parted a delicate kiss against your skin, “continue to live in bliss and I'll give you the life you so desperately crave.”

You woke up slightly again as he strode over to the bedroom door, lingering in the frame as he looked back at you with that same unsettling, unreadable stare.

“Just, don’t misunderstand,” he couldn’t resist, his true self seeping through the cracks of the facade he wore so well, “I’ll only keep that up if you don’t snoop around too far,” he then paused, lowering his voice on purpose so that you couldn’t hear him, speaking more to himself than to you, “as long as you learn to keep curious—as long as you don’t figure out who I really am—then I can keep you safe.”

You didn’t reply, trying to pretend that you were already asleep. He knew that you weren’t though, choosing not to bother you.

“Sleep tight, my wife.”

The door then clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone in that thick, oppressive silence that you had gotten to know so well. You didn’t dare break through it, though, not even as you felt the squeeze of his phantom fingers remaining wrapped around your neck, constricting around your throat like an invisible collar, binding you to a whole new nightmare; a silent reminder of just how much your life had changed ever since that day.

Of just how much… he had changed.

A part of you knew that it would never get better, but if being sick was what it took to get even a glimpse of your old husband back, then that’s something you wouldn’t hesitate to do.

Because even if he did come to annoy you in the end—it was better than accepting that he might truly be gone.

(So why not live a little in your delusions, just this once? Or twice? Or… however long it took to feel normal again.)

[rosewoodcafe]

So It Goes...

You've married into high society, the sacred twenty eight being the group you're seen in most. Though the Malfoy name and riches have suited you well, there's only one name on your mind.

18+ tw for smut

Ominis x Reader

[This is to make up for the sad post of yesterday lol]

[This is like my first time writing smut so like if it's bad I'm sorry]

[This is inspired by So It Goes... by Taylor Swift. Enjoy!]

"Darling, are you ready to leave?" My husband asked from the bedroom.

"In just a moment I will be." I responded.

My husband, Mr. William Malfoy, a respectable man in the wizarding community, and filthy rich. When I caught his eye after Hogwarts I took my opportunity to rise in the ranks of the wizarding community. These past two years have been the easiest, making this man fall so deeply in love with me that he turns a blind eye to how much I am using him. His money fueling the many parties I host, and the many things I buy to fill the mansion I call home. I have everything I want. How could I ask for more.

I settled the last part of my outfit, a diamond pair of earrings, before looking at myself in the full length mirror. A silky black dress hugged my figure, the sleeves long but sheer, and a slit up the left side. My hair was undone with it perfectly curled around my face, red lipstick being the only pop of color. I smiled at myself, knowing that everyone would be looking at me, and only be this entire party. The youngest bride amongst the other twenty eight families, yet the most stunning.

My walk out to the main hall was quick, clutch in hand with my wand tucked safely inside. I saw my husband waiting below, pacing in his all black tux. His eyes met my body and his jaw dropped.

"You look stunning my dear." He said, holding my hand as I walked down the steps. "You will draw the attention of everyone, and I shall be the one to break it to them that you are mine."

"Thank you, you look incredibly handsome as well." I smiled. He placed a small kiss on my cheek as I got into our carriage.

~

The Gaunt Manor was nearly identical to last year. 

Not a single thing on the outside had changed, its haunting look being elegant against the sunset. The carriage landed amongst all the others, and the door opened quickly. William helped me out and wrapped his elbow in mine, leading us the marble steps of the Gaunt home.

Inside there were people everywhere, each in black or white, a mask adorning each face.

"Sir. Ma'am." A house elf said, handing a mas up to the each of us. William took his and quickly put it on, and I did the same. We entered the main hall where more people were, dancing in the center of the room.

There he sat, at the front end of the room, like a king. 

Ominis fucking Gaunt.

I knew he would be here, obviously, but I did not expect him to be the one hosting the event in total. I hated seeing him. 

William walked us closer to Mr. Gaunt, the two of us having to greet him. The crowd practically parted for us, the gasping at the display of the Malfoy name. 

"Mr. Gaunt, wonderful to see you." William spoke to Ominis, who looked entirely unamused.

"Welcome Mr. Malfoy," Ominis spoke, "and, Mrs. Malfoy I presume."

"I am," I responded. "This is a beautiful party you have hosted Mr. Gaunt."

Ominis's eyes widened just a bit, the shocked expression turning to normal as quickly as it came. 

"I hope you enjoy. I will be making my round soon." Ominis said.

William walked us both from the front table, Ominis's blind gaze following our direction.

The night went on without a hitch, my husband dancing with me in front of the crowd, the many whispers reaching across the party. Each only had one thing to say.

She's the most gorgeous thing I have ever seen.

It fueled my desire. I could feel Ominis's foggy gaze on us the whole night. The power I held of these people that gawked over me, over my looks. They were looking at me, and that's all that mattered. Our dance concluded and William stepped closer to me.

"I have to deal with some business," he whispered, "don't get yourself into to much trouble."

"No promises." I smiled. He returned the smile before leaving, disappearing into the crowd.

I walked back towards the wall, where not many people were at, needing a breath of fresh air. A door lead down an empty hall, one I knew I should not be in, but even if I was caught nobody would punish me. A balcony overlooking the garden was visible, and I opened the door, letting the warm summer air grace my lungs. I wasn't sure how long I had been standing there when I heard his voice.

"Malfoy, huh?"

I turned to see Ominis leaned against the open doorway, his arms crossed.

"Yes, I married him earlier this year." I said smugly. "You were invited, but I suppose your invitation got lost in the post."

A small smile crept onto his mouth, a devilish grin that any normal person would be afraid of.

"Don't be short with me dove," he paused, "you may be a Malfoy now, but that still makes you less then a Gaunt."

I could feel my jaw tighten. I hated him, I hated his smugness, and I hated how despite it all if he took me right here and now I wouldn't say a word.

"Cat got your tongue?" He chuckled.

"Actually no, the snake did." I shot back. I leaned over the railing, looking over the garden. I felt a hand snake up my back, resting just below my shoulder blade.

"I missed you." He spoke softly.

"I haven't."

"You most certainly have. If you didn't you would be letting me touch you right now." He smiled again, that damn smile that got him everything he wanted. But he was entirely right.

"If my husband saw you now-"

"He would say nothing," Ominis interrupted, "he would think it's an honor that he picked such a wife that a Gaunt heir wants her."

"You don't want me, you made that clear when I last saw you."

"And you told me that no matter what I would never touch you again, yet here we both are. Breaking both of our promises."

He moved his hand low, settling it on my hip. I wanted to pull him in, to kiss him and feel him.

"You ruined me." Ominis whispered into my ear.

"You ruined me." I whispered back, his other hand was on my arm, tracing up the fabric. "I was bound to marry the man I loved until you said he wasn't enough for me."

"Because I will never be enough for you." His fingers delicately moved their way up to my shoulder. "I will never be enough of a man for you."

"I didn't care."

"I do." He breathed heavily as he moved his body behind mine, pressing into me. "I did."

"If you don't care anymore, then take me." I whispered. His hand placed itself lightly around my throat. 

"You are another man's wife." He hummed into my ear. "I can't take you."

"He hasn't had me." 

Ominis quickly loosened his grip on my neck, spinning me to face him, my ass pressed against the railing of the balcony.

"He hasn't had you yet?" He said quickly. "How could he resist a woman like you?"

I smiled at his comment. Of course Ominis was shocked, even I never let him have me before. I was waiting for marriage, but William said he didn't enjoy such past times, so only when we wanted children is when he would provide that service to me. 

"He has never once asked to take me." I said softly, pulling Ominis tie bringing him closer to me. His breathing became heavy. His hand weaving into my hair, tugging slightly.

"Would you let me take you?" His face was so close to mine, one slightly movement and our lips would clash.

"Only if you ask nicely." I smirked, leaning ever so close to him. He pulled my head back.

"Please dove, let me be the one to take care of you for the first time." He whispered into my ear.

"Yes, you may."

He pressed his lips needily into mine, his lips soft and sweet against my own. Ominis's lips trailed down my jaw, his hand tugging my head back by my hair to reveal my neck to him. I moaned into his deep kisses, the slight bites and licks he gave after. 

I placed my hands on the side of his face lifting up to me. Our lips met again, with more of a hunger then before. I wanted him so badly for so long, and only now do I get him. My fingers fidgeted with his tie, attempting to undo it while I was also unbuttoning his shirt. I kissed down his jaw and neck as he caught my wrists in his hands.

"Not here my love."

His arms tucked under my thighs, hoisting me around his hips. I kept kissing him, leaving red around his jaw, neck, and cheeks. He walked inside, and to a room on the left, opening the door as he held me up, and closing it just as quickly. He carried me to the bed, placing me down so gently.

"You don't know how badly I've wanted you. How badly I wanted to please you in the way you deserve."

He ran his hands up the curves of my dress, taking in the sensation of the fabric. His lips trailed kisses up to my lips, leaving a heat behind that was addicting.

"I wanted you so badly." I moaned as he sucked on my neck. "Omi- I want you."

My hands found his hair, entangling my fingers in his old money locks. He gripped harder on my waist, holding me under his grasp. He made his way back up, kissing me deeply and letting his tongue explore my mouth. I tugged off his tie, throwing it hastily to the floor. He broke our kiss, taking off his suit jacket.

"Open your legs my dear." He whispered, a hand running up my bare thigh. 

"What if I say no?" I humored, letting a small smile cross my lips.

"Then I will leave right now, and promise to never pleasure you again." Ominis smiled, leaning closer in and giving me a deep kiss. He settled his body between my legs, pressing his body against mine. I could feel the heat building in my stomach, and the warmth below from him. 

He kissed me deeper and I moved my hips against him, making him groan into our kiss. He pulled me up so I sat on the edge of the bed, his hand wrapped in my hair as he explored my mouth further. I grinded my hips further onto him, making him groan more.

"You tease." He laughed as he kissed down, pulling at the neckline of my dress. "I need this off of your body, now."

"Then take it off."

He smirked at my challenge, pulling me in for a kiss as his hands worked at the back of my dress, pulling the top down to my waist. His kisses trailed down my body, hot and wet, his tongue finding my peak, taking it into his mouth and sucking on it. I felt so sensitive as I held his head, pushing him closer into me.

"O- omi- " I moaned out.

"Shh, you must be quiet." He licked around my nipple, giving it a kiss. "Unless you want the entire party, and your husband, to know I am making love to you."

"I don't," I let out a breath, melting to Ominis's touch. "I'll be quiet."

"Good."

He continued his assault on my mounds, taking time to pleasure each one until I was throbbing below. He teased me until I reached the edge, denying me the release. His fingers gracefully traced over the wet fabric of my panties, making my whole body shiver.

"I don't know why I pushed you away, when this could be you every night." He spoke softly between kisses. "This could be you as my wife ever night my dear."

I wanted to explode, every nerve ending on fire for how far he had pulling the string in me. I needed to release, every part of me needed to feel him.

"O-h Omini-s please." I moaned out as his fingers pressed into the fabric of my heat below.

"Someone is needy hm?"

He pressed against my sensitive bud, releasing a louder moan from me.

"Open your legs my love."

I did as I was told, opening my legs wider, the dress being pushed aside as he lowered himself to be in line with my heat.

"I'm going to taste you love. If you become uncomfortable, please tell me." Ominis placed a kiss at my stomach before moving the fabric down my legs, reveling my soaked opening. His finger moved along the inside of my thighs, finding the opening. "God you're going to be delicious."

Ominis's head delved into me, and I felt heaven for the first time. Each stroke of his tongue, each press of his finger, each suck made me reach higher and higher. I moaned his name as he held me closer, pulling my thighs into his face. I could feel that string tightening again.

"Ominis- I'm goin-"

He kept going at the same pace, relentless in the pursuit of my release. I could barely breath as I felt the string snap, sending me over. I felt as if everything was right, that I truly was Ominis's in this moment, that I only would ever be his. He lifted his face from me, licking his finger clean of my release.

"You are the best this I've tasted at this party my love." He whispered into my ear. I held his face as I kissed him, tasting myself on his lips.

"I want to taste you." I said softly.

"No, this is all for you tonight." He smiled. "I want you to feel as amazing as you can, so when you have to crawl back to that husband of yours, you'll think of me when you have to touch yourself."

Ominis raised himself from me, undoing his pants, and pulling out his length. Unintentionally I let out a small gasp.

"Like what you see?" Ominis chuckled.

"I- I didn't know they were that big," I paused. "I don't know if it will fi-"

"It will," he smirked, "you were made for me, of course it will fit. Now breathe, it will be a bit painful the first time, I will be gentle."

I took a breath as he lined himself up with me. I could feel his tip rub against my fold, a tingling sensation arising through my body. He finally eased it into me, slowly inching himself deeper into me. It was painful, like a stab into my body, but I also felt entirely complete. Ominis buried himself deep into me, finding my lips and exploring my mouth with his tongue. After a moment he pulled himself out partially, and pushed himself back in.

"Fuck darling, you are so wet," he whispered. "It's taking everything in me to not release into your perfect self."

He pushed in a little harder, releasing a groan from his lips. When he pulled out again it was nearly his whole length, and upon pushing it back in I moaned out one thing.

"Harder."

Something clicked in Ominis, his ridged body before gripping into my flesh. His careful demeanor gone, and the gentleness disappeared. Harder then before he began pushing and pulling himself in me, making me body shiver to his touch. 

I wanted to scream his name as he pushed deeper into me at a harder pace. His lips searing hot as he kissed my body.  I felt my nails dig into his back, scratching down as his dick slammed into the most sensitive spot in my heat. The string in me tightened each time he pushed into me, his hand held my wrists above my head. My body was at the complete mercy of Ominis, and I liked it. He moved his other hand to my bud, rubbing it as he pressed against me harder. His breathing became erratic as he pushed harder and deeper into me, making me see heaven again.

"Release for me darling, I want to feel you." He whispered as he kissed my neck. It sent me over the edge, my walls pulsating on his length as I rode through my high. "Fuc- love I can- I'm going to-"

"Do it in me!" I moaned out as he slammed into me.

"I-"

"I want to be yours Ominis Gaunt!" I felt my legs shake as he pounded harder, letting himself release into me. 

He let my wrists go, holding himself up while still plunged deep in me.

"Love, I need you to leave your husband." He chuckled. "I can't live without this- without you, anymore."

"Perhaps Mr. Gaunt, maybe a certain someone is slipping a poison into Mr. Malfoy's drink as we speak." I smirked. "Leaving me a fortune, and a widow."

"You're such a bad girl." 

"I only do bad things for you."

[themayorautumn]

i have never written fanfiction in my entire life.

"work is the one redeeming thing that gives them purpose."

fuck me. here's something. i had to get it out of my system. i think about them. a lot.

“He was wearing a green coat, not blue.”

A dark haired man sits in a worn out office chair, face illuminated by a flickering desk lamp. His shirt is half unbuttoned, tie hanging loosely on his neck, begging to be taken off. He fidgets with the knot absent mindedly, as if it brings him some sort of comfort. Maybe he can't bear the thought of it being taken off, the last facade of performative professionalism.

His partner is pacing around the desk he’s sitting in front of, slicking his hair back constantly. It’s obvious that it’s a habit that has stuck around with him from his youth, back when his hair was fuller and eyes were brighter, and a small wink paired with a slight smile would be enough to end his night with a pretty chick in his bed. Tonight, there is no chick, and there is no bed. There is the sound of pen on paper as the man sitting by the desk crosses something off a list. Every single word on it is utterly illegible.

“Blue or green,” the man walking takes a break to light a cigarette. “It was a winter coat, puffy, expensive, you don't see that shit often around these parts. The color is a distraction, Vicquemare.”

“Yet she insisted it was sage green, didn't she? Who the fuck says that? She wouldn't have been so insistent if the color didn't matter, somehow.”

“She’s a wolf, that’s why. It’s a con. She knew what she was doing.”

“Alright,” the dark haired man, Vicquemare, gets up lazily and holds his hand out for the pack of cigarettes. His partner hands it to him. “You’re really speaking out of your ass now, Harry. What the fuck does that mean, ‘she’s a wolf’?”

“Extravagant eye makeup. Crimson red. You been to that bar called ‘Plume du Phénix’? I went there last month with that journalist guy, what's his name-”

“Pierre.”

“Right. Him, he told me it was the perfect place to get some connections. Meet people from the inside, if you catch my drift.”

“Fucking hell. You blew off work to go to a fucking strip club, did you?”

“Didn't blow off work. We went to that stakeout after, don't you remember Vic?”

“Oh yeah. You were complaining about your fucking headache the whole time.”

“Crimson makeup. They wear it there, it’s like their signature look. Blood of their former selves or whatever. Some new age bullshit. They’re dead fucking serious about it though. They don't let you in without it.”

“You wore makeup?”

“Easy now. Don't get too excited.”

Harry walks over to the desk to ash his cigarette, but doesn't get back to his pacing. He stands next to Vicquemare, staring at the ground, lost in thought.

“I did. Pierre made me wear it. They’re fucking wild in there, man. You wouldn't believe it.”

“Why didn't you invite me?”

“Are you jealous?”

“We’re partners. If you’re going somewhere to ‘get connections’, feel like I should be involved.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time. It really is a shame. You would look good in crimson.”

Vicquemare looks away from him for just a second, not enough to mean anything tangible, but enough for Harry to crack a slight smile. He puts a hand on his shoulder and keeps it there as he continues.

“They have this thing against authority of any kind. They preach ‘anarchy’ or their performative version of it, which is where they get together in back alley bars and drink until they don't remember what they're there for. Then they wake up and do it all over again. Fucking idiots, the lot of them.”

“And this is good for connections, how?”

“They're stupid but they're bonded together like a pack of wild wolves. They know everyone in the pack and protect each other like they're blood bound. Probably are too, the freaks.”

“So she was protecting the guy? Cause she knew the coat was actually blue, but saying sage green specifically would make it seem like it would be impossible for it to be any other color?”

“Look at my boy, learning so fast under my coaching. Exactly, Vic. She’s misleading us.”

Vicquemare tugs on the knot of his tie even more insistently, as if an internal fight is going on in his head about whether or not keeping that piece of cloth there is as important as he seems to think it is. Instead of coming to a conclusion, he lights another cigarette and looks back over to the list.

“Wish we talked with her sooner, then. This fucks over our entire theory now, doesn't it? We gotta start from fucking stratch. Find that blue-sage green coat guy. Whatever his name was.”

“We can find him. We can find him, tomorrow.”

Harry reaches for a drawer in the desk and takes out a dark red bottle. He grins and holds it out for Vicquemare to read the label.

“Aged merlot. Been saving it for a special occasion.”

“Oh yeah? What’s the occasion tonight?”

“You do not give me enough credit, Jean-y boy. You do not think I am a man of class, a superior officer who cares for his lieutenant.”

He takes out two glasses from the same drawer and pours two very generous servings.

“Happy birthday, Vicquemare. Here’s to us surviving another year in this fucking shithole.”

Jean looks at his glass wordlessly, his hand still on his tie. He’s stopped fidgeting with it now, as if he’s reached a conclusion but is too afraid, or too cautious to act on it. He smiles. It looks strange on his face, laborious, but genuine. It reaches his eyes and accentuates the wrinkles around them, too many for a man celebrating his thirtieth birthday.

“Thank you, shitkid.”

And it’s clear he means it.

They drink one glass, then one more, then Harry procures another bottle of whiskey this time, which they also finish, and as Vicquemare digs in his jacket pocket for that pack of Astra Reds he’s sure he bought earlier that day, Harry bursts out laughing.

“To think it would ever come to this, huh, Jean? Is this how you imagined entering your thirties?”

Jean finally finds the treasure he’s been looking for and takes a long drag of the cigarette. The ashtray is overflowing, which seems to bother neither of them as cigarette butts litter the desk and the floor. He stumbles over to Harry and smiles, a larger grin than the one before, but it doesn't reach his eyes. They look sad, desperate, and appropriately gray, as if any semblance of color on them would be a disservice to the way they look at the world. Harry sees himself in them, not sure if he’s imagining it or not, and not caring. It’s hard to care, when it’s the only time his reflection doesn't terrify him to death.

Jean takes Harry’s hand and puts it on his tie, curling his fingers around it and tugging on it gently. Harry knows what it means. He’s seen him do it time and time again, always in a different context, but always with the same intention. ‘You take the first step, Harry. You make me believe that you want me, you allow me to pretend.’. It’s his role, he knows it, and he unties the tie.

“I didn't imagine anything. I couldn't imagine anything. What is there to imagine? What is there to fucking want?”

It’s a question that doesn't have an answer. It doesn't have an answer that can be spoken out loud. It doesn't have an answer that can be given without empty bottles clanging around on the desk, without the assurance of their blurred memories, without their hands trembling as they reach for each other, something to hold onto as if nothing else in the world matters. They have to keep moving, they have to keep reassuring each other that they still have this one thing. That the taste of smoke on each other's lips, the crumpled case files surrounding them, and Harry’s rough fingers on Jean’s disheveled hair are enough to make them forget the emptiness that they both feel.

At the end of the day, they don't have anything else.

[leather-n-velvet]

High & Low: Part VII

A Drew Starkey x singer/actress!oc SMAU

Summary: While on hiatus from touring and wanting to branch out with her career, Ivy Blake auditions for OBX, immediately hitting it off with none other than Drew Starkey during their chemistry read. As tension and drama brew between the two, can they get through the highs and lows that come with fame and relationships together?

A/N: Small blurb today along with the usual posts! Kind of a filler chapter. Enjoy!!!

Dividers by: @cafekitsune ⭐️🌙

Previous Part // Masterlist

Ivy was confused, to say the least. Why on earth would O*dessa be messaging her about Drew? Irritation flared inside her as she considered even opening the message.

She glanced over at Drew, who was peacefully sleeping, completely unaware of the constant thoughts plaguing her mind regarding his relationship with O*dessa. He didn’t recognize the discomfort she felt each time her name came up. It wasn’t like Ivy to be so wary of a friend of her boyfriend; she usually made a significant effort to get to know them. But something was stopping her, especially after her conversation with Madelyn just a few days earlier.

It felt as if she didn’t want to accept the possibility that her suspicions were valid, and she certainly didn’t want to confront them head-on. She knew she needed to talk to Drew about her feelings, but how could she bring it up without sounding crazy and jealous?

Ivy wanted their relationship to thrive on communication and honesty, and if she didn’t confess her feelings now, she feared she would only build a wall between them. She understood that she’d never be able to fully let him in if she didn’t start now.

Letting people in had always been difficult for her. After being played and used by too many people in her almost 26 years, she learned those lessons the hard way. This time, with Drew, she refused to let that pattern continue. She had fallen hard for him and, for the first time in her life, saw a future with someone. There was no way she could throw that away over some silly insecurities.

These thoughts kept her awake until the sun began peeking through the cream-colored curtains in her childhood bedroom, causing Drew to start stirring.

Ivy felt his arms wrap around her, pulling her to his chest and pressing a kiss to her neck. “What are you doing up so early?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” she sighed, turning in his embrace to lay across his bare chest, melting into him. “Guess I had a lot on my mind.”

His arms tightened around her. “Anything you want to share with the class?”

She chuckled half-heartedly, her heartbeat thrumming nervously in her chest. “Actually, yes. It’s about O*dessa.”

Drew stiffened. “What about her?”

“She messaged me on Instagram last night, asking me to get you to reach out to her.”

“I feel like there’s more on your mind than that.”

Ivy hesitated, feeling her hands start to shake as the fear of potential confrontation took over. She didn’t like being that girl—laying her insecurities bare and discussing her feelings. In the past, it had always led to conflict. She had a habit of bottling things up just to let them go without a fight, finding herself a human doormat. This relationship with Drew would not be like that, even if it physically pained her to go against everything she was accustomed to.

She sat up, turning to face him and occupying her hands with the hem of the threadbare t-shirt she had dug up from high school. “Um, there is. I’ve just had this feeling about her. Like there’s something off about her vibe. The whole thing with the event mix-up last week has been really bothering me.”

Drew closed his eyes, mentally battling the guilt about the situation. He had been deciding whether to tell her that the entire thing had been a setup, manufactured by none other than O*dessa herself.

“Baby, why didn’t you tell me about any of this?”

Ivy sighed, avoiding his gaze. “I didn’t want to cause any problems. I know you’re close to her, and I’d never tell you who you can and can’t be friends with, but my gut is just telling me something is off.”

“Do you not trust me?”

“Of course I do. I just think it’s her. She seems very dependent on you, and I get that, but…”

Drew noticed Ivy’s shaking hands as she started to pick at her nails—a nervous habit that usually emerged when she felt anxious or overwhelmed. It pained him to see her so torn up just discussing something that bothered her. If he could, he would personally confront everyone who had ever made her feel like a burden for sharing her feelings. He knew how hard this was for her and he hated that he couldn’t help her more.

His hands found hers. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

She glanced up, meeting those denim-blue eyes that she adored.

“I swear to you, you have nothing to worry about. We are just friends, and we have only ever been just friends. You’re my girl. I feel terrible about missing your event, and I promise to start writing everything down so there aren’t any more mix-ups.” He rubbed his thumb across hers, feeling her shaking start to lessen. “But I need you to talk to me about things. I know your past has made you hesitant to open up, but this is different, baby. We’re different. I want to know every single thought that goes through that beautiful head of yours.”

“I’ll try.”

______

drewstarkey

Liked by haley_james, JillianBlake, and 2,347,766 others.

drewstarkey happy birthday stink 🧜🏼‍♀️

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User1 HAPPY BDAY IVY

user2 this is so cute

User3 no one’s gonna talk about the 2nd pic???

railaslovechild THEIR BIRTHDAYS ARE ONLY A DAY APART 🥹

user4 HBD QUEEN

starboyd

Liked by JillianBlake, brooke_starkey, and 123 others.

starboyd Happy birthday, angel 🩵

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sonotivyleague 🥹 happy to be spending and almost sharing a birthday with u 🩵

madrecliner I TOLD YALL TO STOP IT 😭

lacigurl HAPPY BIRTHDAY GORGEOUS 💋

brooke_starkey happy birthday, pretty girl! ☺️

ivyblake

Liked by drewstarkey, hichasestokes, and 23,387,977 others.

ivyblake it’s been a good day 🩵

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madelyncline 26 HAS NEVER LOOKED HOTTER

carlaciagrant happy bday gorgeous girl 🫶🏾

madisonbaileybabe HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANGEL FACE

drewstarkey🪽🩵

user4 HI DREW

user5 DID ANYBODY SEE DREW’S STORY JUST NOW??!

railaslovechild OMFG DID HE SET THIS UP?! MY HEART 🥹😭

o*dessaazion hbd

user1 🤨 @/user2

user2 @/user1 🥸

sabrinacarpenter happy birthday darling 🩷🩷🩷

TheIvyLeague HAPPY BIRTHDAY QUEEN 🎁🎉🎈

ivyblakeupdates HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU LOVELY HUMAN

ivyblake

Liked by brooke_starkey, railaslovechild, and 21,332,456 others.

ivyblake happy birthday drew-beedoobeedoo, hoping you had your daily pb&j to make it the best day 🩵

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drewstarkey I suspiciously had a freezer full of Uncrustables this morning, any idea who that could be???

ivyblake that’s so strange 🤭

user1 they aren’t even trying to hide it anymore 😂

railaslovechild MARRY EACH OTHER RN

madelyncline Happy birthday drewseph!!!

DrewIvyUpdates SO CUTE HBD DREW

DrewIvyUpdates wait is that IVY'S NECKLACE IN THE 3RD PIC

sonotivyleague

Liked by haley_james, lacigurl, and 213 others.

sonotivyleague birthday boy 🩵

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JillianBlake happy birthday sweet boy!

starboyd thank you mama Jill! madelyncline already in good with the in laws I see 🤭

rude_boy hbd drewseph!!!

lacigurl HAPPY BIRTHDAY BESTIE!!!

o*dessaazion

Liked by ivyblake, drewstarkey, and 877,323 others.

o*dessaazion Happy birthday Joseph. Keep eating that pb n j once a day, it's really good for ur bones

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user3 ummm, did she just somewhat copy Ivy's bday post???

user4 this is umm.... yeah

user5 Ivy liked....

hater1 I LOVE U GUYS

haley_james lol...ok

user4 HOLY FUCK user2 did not see that coming

A/N: Not Haley being messy 🫣

THANK YOU for all of your support!!! Please let me know what you think and don't forget to like and reblog! My inbox is always open for any thoughts or discussions you would like to have about Drew/Ivy! I would love to hear from y'all.

Taglist: @davinashifts333, @rafegf-real, @chalahyung01, @jjmaybankmylovee, @f4irywor1d

[astronova-00]

Happy Birthday Sev!! Hope y'all will take this oneshot of an au that I plan for the future (my friend kinda cried...)

“What is that?” That being the subject of the kids’ attention. They were so focused on the vial that they didn’t notice someone walking in with a gaunt look on their face. Although they could sense the shift of change in the atmosphere. 

However, back onto the matter on hand…the kids couldn’t take their eyes off the vial. It seemed to give off a strange glow when Harry played around with it in his hands. As he did this, he caught the attention of the shadow in the background, who then made himself known, “What are you doing with that?” His voice came out strained and sounded more like nails scraping down the front of a chalkboard than the intimidation he wanted. 

Harry, and Ron jumped at the voice while Hermione had the decency to look guilty. “Hello Professor!” She happily replied while arming the other two to say something along the lines of that. They just mumbled nonsense under their voices. “How are you?”

“Enough chatter, I asked a question.” Severus’ tone suggested that he didn’t have time for games, and when Hermione got a good look at him, she could tell why. Dark circles creeped under his eyes and it seemed like he hadn’t slept in weeks. His hair looked dishevelled and even more greasy (as if that was possible). The professor looked as if his whole world was turned upside down. Although Hermione didn’t have the time to ponder on it any longer when Sirius bursted into the room, laughing along with Professor Lupin. 

“Oi! Whatcha doing here, Snivellous?” Sirius accusingly asked as he swung his arm around Remus’ shoulder to keep him balanced. The trace of alcohol was evident on his breath. Severus froze, not at the sight of his old bully-no he got quite good at not reacting to him-but instead at the smell. Flashes floated his head all at once and yet it was all a blur. The familiar bottle was seen in each flash with the smell of cheap whiskey lingering on. Same one that Sirius had now harboured. 

Severus was not in the mood for whatever childish games they would usually put up with. His eyes snapped down to Harry’s hand, and a twitch of emotion ran across his face. To tell which one would be hard to say. Ignoring everyone’s curious looks, Severus inched closer to Harry, and snatched the vial out of his hand. “Do not touch what is not yours.” He hissed with a vein popping from his forehead. 

Harry looked back at his professor with glowing hatred in his eyes, matching the vial in Severus’ closed fist. Ron hid behind Hermione with a sheepish face and apologetically smiled.  

Severus curses himself for being too distracted in his thoughts to not have seen the latter coming. Of course when there are so many changes that seem to have forced their way into your life, you don’t bother to acknowledge them until it’s too late. Sirius thrashed his way out of Remus’ arms (despite the other pulling him back) and headed straight for Severus but missed and landed on Harry. Who caught him right away and decided to lay him on the couch in the room they were in. 

Words flew around as the four of them gathered around Sirius and asked if he was alright. Severus couldn’t give a rat’s arse about him. He got what he came for and now he can leave before Dumbledore finds him with the leftover order members. That old man did not know what privacy meant when it came to over people. Severus left the fools in the room without making a sound (which he was very proud of) and wandered down one of the many halls in the manor.

A familiar pain struck through him. The very same one that has been clinging onto him, one that he cannot shake. It’s beautifully poetic in a sense. Warm hands always touch him but never there and they will never touch again. His ears ring with the soft whisper of their nights and the laughter of their youth. How they managed a lifetime together in so little time will always boggle Severus. He remembers everything and even when he tries not to, it sneaks up on him. Memories torn apart to showcase the struggle and how far they’ve gotten. Not far enough. It was never enough. All that pain and effort just for Severus to be left with a singular tag with his name on it. He finally understood the sorrow and grief when it came to these things. Pulled from his thoughts, Severus sees Dumbeldore from the corner of his eye. 

Albus clapped the other gentlemen’s hand and smiled. They seemed to be in a friendly conversation, so Severus decided to sit down at the long dining table that they’ve used for meetings. Severus had no doubts that he was going to get reprimanded for not showing up for the meeting tonight, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. There’s been a lot more of that recently. The urgency to fix all the wrongs he’s committed, seemed like an utter waste. What was the point? He found himself asking more often. What will he get out of all this?

As he sat down, Molly smiled at him and passed him a cup of coffee. Just like he likes it. She took it upon herself to get his preferences written down. Two sugars and one milk. Many guessed he liked it black but that’s what he loved. Severus’ shaky hands wrapped around the warm mug and the steam blinded him for a second as he brought it up to his lips. His eyebrows finally relaxed as he took his first sip and nodded at Molly who looked like a kid on Christmas. “Oh Severus! Let me get you something to eat with your coffee!” Before he could protest, she went straight into the kitchen and came out with a plate of whatever she had made. He looked at the plate and felt his stomach flip. He slipped his hand into his pocket where the vial was and moved it between his fingers. Thankfully those kids were dunderheads and didn’t realise what was inside. 

From the moment Severus walked in, Minerva did not take her eyes off him. Looking at him like there is something else to see. Peeling apart his carefully crafted facade and clawing deeper into him. His eyes floated to the wallpaper behind her and turned his mind off. Blank. Whispers of the past circling in a loop. He’s never felt more isolated, never more detached. It’s cold and empty inside…a feeling that has never quite left him. It’s a sad reminder that he is destined to always lose, no matter how far he gets. The clock was ticking and yet he was the one counting down the seconds. 

Albus Dumbledore was a man who was always able to command a room. Even if you didn’t know him personally or even like him, you respected him. While it be his morals or his powers, there was that common goal of respect that you’ve held for him. Severus was able to fall into that trap as well. Hook. Line. And Sinker. The old bastard managed to get the straggling members to head to the table and locked eyes with Severus. It was a gaze that meant there was something to be discussed in front of everyone with no escape nor time to come up with excuses. Severus clutched the vial tighter. 

“If I may,” Albus started off, gaining the other’s attention with his eyes still trained on Severus, “It has come to my attention that we have one last thing to discuss.” Leave it to him to have that cryptic sentence. 

Tonks had a keen eye for evidence, hence why she made a good auror, but her hair changed from her normal bubblegum pink to a navy blue, expressing her confusion. Her boss sat beside her with a protective look and then Alastor sat at the corner, nursing his flask. “Oi, spit it out already, why don’t ya!” Alastor muttered with a roll of his eye, and the other went haywire. “Some of us got places to be!”

Tonks let out a laugh and her face changed into a snout while her hair switched to a lighter blue and then rested back to her normal look. Kingsley covered his mouth ‘effectively’ with his mug of tea that Molly kindly brought over. Arthur helped her back, supporting the tray with the other mismatched mugs and teacups of hot water. Severus was the only one with taste (and strength) to handle coffee. The rest of the weaklings had their tea, while Albus decided to continue with his announcement when Sirius, Remus, and the kids walked in. Sirius had a drunken smirk plastered on. 

“As I was saying, Sirius has let me know that Severus has not shared all that he has learned within the few weeks that he has been gone. It seems that he is holding a vial that contains memories during the first war that will be crucial for the upcoming.” Severus’ eyes widened at this and slowly shifted his eyes to look at Sirius, who was already staring at him…as were everyone else. 

The thought of everyone’s eyes on him made him feel dirty. Like he had to scratch at himself until the hyponychium turned red. Goosebumps started to form over him, when he noticed that they were all looking for an answer. Sirius Black looked like he won the fucking lottery. Mouth wide open with his perfect pearly whites and even with the decay of twelve years in prison, his face looked even better. Severus parted his lips and silently cleared his throat and shifted his attention from Sirius to the whole room. “I-....I do not know what you are talking about.” He dismissed. 

However, since God was out to get him, he made Ronald Weasley pay attention to a conversation that was not quidditch related and decide to speak against his professor. There were only twelve people in the room and yet Severus felt as if he was on a stage giving a lecture. “Yeah you do! You literally yelled at us to give it back to you.” The ginger boy annoyingly added while Albus nodded his head. 

Severus glared at the boy and cleared his throat, “It has nothing to do with the order.” His words slowly pushed through his teeth and he took another sip from his coffee, using his free hand. 

Sirius barked a laugh and threw his head back, “You hear that, Moony? Seems like our little Snivvy got his own life that we weren’t aware of!” Remus looked as if he’d rather be anywhere but there. 

Severus was trapped, he couldn’t move. Everything he did was on a loop and his words were like someone else had written them for him. The muffled voices of everyone was coming back clearer into his hearing when suddenly the vial, he was clutching to like a lifeline, was being levitated out of his pocket. He couldn’t move, frozen in another thing that he didn’t have control over. 

“Severus.” Albus’ voice was a dangerous whisper, “Why do you have a pensieve on you?” 

The other’s face still remained calm, cool, and collected. He didn’t give any indication that he was affected by being called out. There were many times where Severus wished he stayed home from an order meeting and this is one time he greeted that he went. Everyone’s eyes varied from looking at him with curiosity or at the vial Albus was holding. “I am not withholding any information relevant to the war.” 

“But you are withholding something.” Albus pushed. 

“Am I not allowed my secrets?”

“Not if they are causing you to slip.” Severus opened his mouth to protest but Albus held up his hand, “Do not think that I have not noticed for the last few weeks, you have become sloppy. You have been giving quick, brief responses. Leaving just as soon as you’ve come in. I decided not to bring it up until someone else noticed and chose to do so with the company of trusted members.” 

Severus rolled his eyes at Albus' abrasive speech. “The vial contains muggle affairs…none of the sort that a respectable wizard would trouble themselves with.” However, this just gained the interest of Hermione and Arthur. “Severus! You know about those wonderful muggle devices? I would love to come together with you on that. I simply cannot get enough of the simplicity of the whole concept.” 

Severus gave the man a tight smile, “If I have the time.” A promise that would never be fulfilled, if Severus had anything to do with it. “However, if you would like to ask Miss Granger for assistance. As I recall she is a muggleborn.” 

“Oh yes! Mr Weasley, I would love to answer any questions you have!” The two broke off into a small conversation on the side as their voices faded in Severus’ head. His eyes drifted back to Albus who was asking Sirius for something. He couldn’t hear anything other than the beating of his own heart along with everyone else's’. The soothing rhythm from the others calmed his nerves. He could feel a bead of sweat on the side of his head, slowly rolling down. Once again, he snapped back into reality when Sirius came back with a wobble in his walk, and the bowl meant for the pensieve.  

“Either you agree to allow us to see whatever you are hiding from the order in this or we will force you too.” Albus’ cold decision came as a shock to both him and Minerva. 

“Albus! Surely the boy is allowed his privacy as does anyone else in this!” Minerva shouted as she stood up in her seat to make her point. 

“I have to think of the order and cannot allow my feelings to be involved with this matter. If the order does not feel safe-...”

“That is bullshit and you know it. Does Severus not matter in this situation? How dare you choose someone else over him, once again?” Minerva could have stopped and let Albus bash him but she didn’t. She has had enough, a little too late but Severus is not complaining…just tired of it all. 

“Minerva.” His voice heavy, “I’ll just get it over with. If being able to see that I am one capable of emotions is what these people who don’t know me need, then so be it.” Minerva saw his resigned sigh and sat back down with a look of pity towards him. He resisted the urge to glare at her. He did not need nor want pity for anything. Severus got up from his seat, carefully making sure his coffee wouldn’t spill and took the fogged up vial from his pocket of his trousers. He placed it in front of Albus at the head of the table. 

Albus had a troubled look in his eyes but his pride for the greater good overcame that. His hand slowly took the vial and uncorked it. “If everyone could gather around me.” Tonks, Kingsley, Molly, Alastor, Arthur, Ron, Harry, Hermione, Minerva, Sirius, and Remus cramped together around the old wizard. They all had different looks in their eyes that Severus couldn’t quite pinpoint due to him not really giving a fuck. 

“If I could do the honours, Black.” It wasn’t a question as Severus took the uncorked vial from Albus and poured it into the pensieve that Sirius was placing down. Sirius didn’t have time to react as they were being pulled into the memories of Severus Snape. 

Old polka dotted wallpaper that seemed like it was there forever. Everything was a faded pink in the bedroom and there sat two teenagers looking into a mirror and one on the bed. “I still think Sev could rock the look.” Said the dark brunette girl with hazel eyes. She was wrapped in a strawberry shortcake blanket and wearing a pair of jorts with beat up converses. 

“You’d think anyone could ‘rock a look’ as long as they got black hair.” A younger looking Severus deadpanned (with a heavy northern accent) as he stretched across the pink frilly bed sheets. His faded ‘Black Sabbath’ lifted up from his stomach and showed his happy trail and his jeans sagging. His docs were discarded on the floor and his bare feet were stretched out around the bed as well. 

“That’s Professor Snape?” Harry muttered to Ron, with a hint of flirtation in his voice. Hermione blushed and tore her glaze from the scene playing in front of her. “Can’t possibly understand why someone would call him ugly.” Hermione muttered softly as her blush stained her face. 

Ron looked at the two with disgust, “Lay off it.” 

“Am I wrong? Also pass me my bra.” The brunette asked with a hand outstretched towards Severus without looking behind her. The third teenager, the one beside her, passed the black bra from Severus to her. “Thanks.” She said as she uncovered herself and let her breasts fall down. 

The group looked around the memory and instantly covered the three kids’ eyes with looks at Severus. However he had a soft smile on his face and couldn’t take his eyes off the scene playing in front of them. “What the fuck is this Snivellous?” Sirius yelled out as his drunken state was sobered quickly when Albus had called them over. Must have taken a potion when he went to get the pensieve. “It’s my childhood.” 

The memory continued on. 

“Eden, I would love it if you didn’t flash our poor boys in my house. We are only fifteen.” A younger Lily Potter neé Evans walked into the open doorway with a six pack of cheap beer in her hand and a lighter in her other. Eden laughed as she coughed into her elbow. 

Hearing her voice snapped Sirius, Remus, and Harry up to look up to her with slight tears. 

“Only fifteen she says as she brings in alcohol and a lighter for underage smoking and drinking.” The darker teen who had dreadlocks and was lying on Eden's back. He had black jeans with an ‘AC/DC’ shirt on, and beat up converses as well. His ear was surprisingly pierced, which dangled a flat, black lighting bolt. “And here I thought our little Miss Princess Perfect was the good one.” He earned a laugh from Eden and Severus.  His twist of words also earned Lily giving him the bird. 

“My mother smoked and drank?” Harry exclaimed as he locked eyes with the memory of Lily Evans. Severus silently answered his question with a nod of his head. 

“Shut the fuck up Daniel before I kick you out. My house, my rules.” Lily stuck her tongue out as she placed the beer next to Eden and flopped on the bed next to Severus. “Move over.” 

“Looks like someone got broken up with.” Eden said as she pushed Daniel over of her and propped up on the inside of her hands with her stomach on the rug. “Tell us what happened, we know you wanna.” She said with a roll of her eyes as she popped open a can of beer and passed one to Daniel who did the same for Severus. 

Tonks and Kingsley raised eyebrows at each other before facing Severus with a look of curiosity. Neither had the guts to speak up until Alastor did. “Albus I don’t know much about you but all I see is a bunch of kids from the past. Ain’t nothing here that wicked boy is hiding.” Sirius flashed his eyes to his former boss and widened his eyes. Within all the years of working for him, he'd seen Moody a compliment. Hence why they also called him Mad-Eye. Sirius snapped back to Remus when he started to whisper something. 

“She looks young.” The words echoed around the empty space where the next memory seemed to be setting up for, Harry inched past his friends and closer to his godfathers. Sirius swung his arm over his boyfriend and looked at Harry with pained eyes and a weak smile. “I didn’t even think that Lily would be in these…”

“Why wouldn’t she be? She was my best friend.” Severus responded as he walked into the house, motioning for the others to follow him. “We should be in here.” He muttered as he opened the door. 

“How is it that you remember these? That isn’t possible.” Albus asked as he followed Severus. 

“It’s impossible to forget.” Severus whispered, before coming to a stop. 

The others filed in and the famous Golden Trio looked at one another for the first time in minutes. Neither one had to say anything to already know what they were going to say. Minerva walked behind them and had a wry smile on her face, and ushered them inside the room. 

The room was the same before but it was obviously a different day. Outside the small window, it was murky and a tough tree branch was racking against it. The rain, pouring harder than before. The four teenagers were still in the room except now they were wearing pyjamas. Lily and Eden had a similar set of silk camisoles with the matching shorts. But Lily’s were a groovy forest green with a touch of brown and dark red mixed in, while Eden’s were a simple blood red with a little lace bow. Severus and Daniel were wearing white wife beaters and black gingham patterned pants. Severus and Daniel shared the bed while Lily was helping Eden blow up the air mattress. 

“Thanks for letting us crash for a couple nights.” Eden thanked in between gasps, trying to regain as much air as possible. 

“I said anything and I mean it. It would be pretty horrible if I let you back at Sev’s while Tobias is there. Besides, think of this as our redo sleepover.” Lily smiled as held onto the almost full mattress. 

“How so?” Daniel asked as he opened a bag of crisps and started to shovel them into his mouth and hand some to Severus. 

Severus watched closer on how his past self and Daniel interacted. He seemed to be taking everything in, not letting him wander until they captured everything. Severus found himself sitting on the bed and staring at Daniel with a face of woe. Severus closed his eyes and let the conversation that he knew all too well flow around him.

“Lils, Jacob was a jerk and you knew that. Besides just last week, you were saying how you wanted a little fun and nothing serious. Why is he bothering you so much? He’s your average brown eyed desi. I mean sure your parents are just bigoted in general, but that’s just cokeworth’s edgy charm.” Eden complained as she couldn’t see the reason why her close friend was acting like this. 

“It’s because she has a crush on James Potter.” 

The room went silent and Lily went red and joined Eden with putting on the bed sheets for the two of them. 

Severus looked at the others to see them truly paying attention as to what was happening. It was like his life story was becoming more of a soap opera than anything else. His eyes lingered on the Potter spawn and for a moment, just a moment. He felt a wave of protection surge through him for the boy. 

“S-Sev, come on. You know I would never betray you like that.” Her perfect English accent, coming out stronger than ever. As if it was a reminder of where they really were. 

“What am I to say? It’s not as if he is unattractive. I cannot blame you.” Severus forced the words from his mouth as they sounded more posh than before. “However he’s a little bastard who thinks his daddy’s money will get him anywhere in life.” The black haired boy sneered, as he shoved the salty crisp into his mouth.

“James wasn’t the bastard, you were Snivvy!” Sirius argued as Harry paid no mind to him. 

“Yes but he has stopped those silly pranks that Sirus and him pulled on you.” Lily tried. 

“Oh yes, because that makes everything much better. Only bullied me for five years, ‘but now I want to get into someone’s pants so I must look like I can do good.’ Sounds like he really cares for you Lily.” Severus snarked back as he faced his back away from her. Lily huffed and layed down on the pillow and covered herself up with the blanket. “Fine.”

“Fine.” 

Awkward silence once again until Eden decided to break it up, “What do you call a pig that practises karate?

This time Daniel couldn’t hold his groan, “What the fuck do you want?” 

“Bitch I asked you a question.” Eden repeated with a threat. 

“What do you call it?” Daniel answered with his voice three octaves higher. 

“A pork chop.” Eden deadpanned before she started giggling at her own stupid joke. 

“That wasn’t funny.” Daniel rolled his eyes. “So just like you then?” Eden replied. 

“Because I am an excellent boyfriend, it is practically my job to be funny. Someone has to be.” Daniel yelped as Severus punched his stomach from not moving his face from the wall. 

“Well a good boyfriend should be like that regardless.” 

“Ay! Sev tell ‘em I’m a good boyfriend.” Daniel whined as he sent air kisses to him. 

“You’re alright, I suppose.” Severus shrugged as he wrapped his legs along Daniel. “Fuck you.” Daniel replied as he snuggled into Severus.

 The four of them laughed. The argument was long forgotten but never gone. It was just shoved underneath everything where later it could explode back into their faces. Severus waved a dragon heartstring wand over them and the lights turned off. The comfort of the rain falling casted them to sleep. The girls cuddled with one another and shared the heavier blanket. While the boys’ limbs were tangled in the early stages of slumber. 

The others thought that a new memory was going to flash by but they stayed there in the quiet room. It wasn’t until movement from the two boys that the order turned their attention back to it. 

Severus turned on his left side to face Daniel who was doing a poor job of sleeping, “Wake up, lover boy.” 

Daniel groaned and shoved his hands in Severus’ face. “Shut the fuck up! That was one time.” 

“But I can be your lover boy.” Severus continued on in a sing-song voice. “SEVERUS!” Daniel shoved his face into the other boy’s chest with his face turning a deep purple. “Promise me that you’ll write until I come back for Christmas?” Severus whispered in their bubble of peacefulness. 

“You can’t get rid of me that easily. We aren’t a quick fuck.” Daniel reminded him as he lifted his chin and signalled for a kiss. Severus leaned down and met his lips there. They shared a passionate kiss and then Severus dragged Daniel into a cuddle. “I love you.” 

Severus wiped a tear that escaped from his eye and got off from the bed. He walked down the room as the others watched him. 

“Who would have thought Sniv had a boyfriend?” Sirius asked no one in particular. 

“Did my mom always curse like that?” Harry’s words left his lips before he could process the scene between Severus and this so-called Daniel. He was having trouble wanting to leave the pensieve or have the rare opportunity to stay and hopefully see more memories of his mother. Perhaps getting to know Professor Snape better too. Then again, Harry and his friends were fifteen and had never even touched drugs or alcohol, so clearly there were a few things to discover. 

“Severus.” Minerva’s hitched voice told him what he needed to know. “Yes, he is.” The clipped answer let the silent conversation between the two of them come to a rest. Minerva lowered her eyes and mumbled something under her breath that not even Albus could pick up. 

“What…what exactly are we going to see here? Obviously it is your childhood, but are you sure it’s even morally right for us to see?” Hermione spoke slowly, trying to make sense of what she just processed. Ron looked at her like she had a second head, the two boys agreed with one another that they wouldn’t be talking. It was too raw for them to even voice their opinions about their most hated Professor, and they wanted to keep it that way. 

“Miss Granger. Obviously,” Severus drew out his word like he had done in their previous year of Hogwarts. “The moral rights of someone disappear as soon as they join a cult or a group trying to defeat said cult.” His face twitched in a minor annoyance and led the others out of the room and there they were in some sort of park. 

The grass swayed around Severus and Daniel, who were lying with their heads touching and faced up to the sky. “I want to kill myself.”

“I know.” 

It faded back and suddenly the group was in another memory. 

The room had the cigarette smoke stained wallpaper peeling off so badly, you could see the original drywall and plaster. There was an old wooden table in the middle of the kitchen with a beat up refrigerator and a barely working stove. They had to flick a match underneath it for it to work properly. A handed down rug covered the splintered floors, not that the rug mattered. Everyone wore their shoes inside the house regardless. A familiar looking Eden, though looking much older and had an IV attached to her, was cursing at the stove and finally managed to catch a flame.“Eggs?”She asked in a way that wasn’t really asking. 

An older looking Daniel walked through and smiled at her while raising up two fingers. She nodded and cracked a few eggs into the pan and watched them fry. She peeled off the plastic from the fresh bacon she bought the night before. Once the eggs were done she flipped them, “Danny, mind watching the food? I’mma go talk to Sev and see if he gonna get out of his shell.” 

“I hope you have better luck than I did. I’m lucky I got out there with both of my shoes.” Daniel laughed but his face showed a different picture. 

Eden walked out the doorway of the kitchen and climbed up the old stairs while skipping a few of them and dragged her machine up the stairs. She shuffled her hands against each other and then closed her hand into a fist and raised it to knock on the door. “Sev, open the door.” 

“Leave me alone Eden.” His muffled voice came out through the tattered door. “I have nothing to say.”

“Maybe but you got to listen to me.” Eden slid against the door and brought her knees to her chest. She took a second to get her thoughts and breaths together. Everything was different and everything was going to change. “Sevvy, you gotta listen to me real close. ‘Cause I’m only gonna say this once.” She waited until she heard a sudden movement from the other side before continuing. “The fact that you are feeling guilty about whatever the fuck happened during school proves you better than whatever that bitch said.” 

“She is not a-” 

“I’m not done and yes she was. Just because we hung out together doesn’t mean that she’d really give Danny or I the time of day. Besides you see the looks she gives the two of you.” 

“It’s not her fault. That’s just how she was raised.” 

“Yeah, well you were raised to be a bastard but now you only act like one.” Eden knew that she was able to get a laugh from Severus when he went quiet. “Don’t push Danny out. I ain’t gonna be here any longer and I need to know my boys can do good without me.” 

“Don’t say that.” 

“You know it’s true. Live on for me and take care of him.” Eden’s voice wandered around Severus’ head. 

The memory closed and the group was left in the dark while Severus was left staring in front of him. 

“When was that, sir?” Hermione’s weak voice spoke up as she fidgeted with her fingers. 

“1975, the same year as the last memory. Although that was during the summer after my fifth year.” 

Hermione hummed and dared to look Severus in the eyes. “Is that when you called Lily Potter a Mudblood?” There was no flinch in her tone of words nor did she let herself waver. 

Severus didn’t turn to her, “Yes.” 

Remus looked more meek and into himself which startled Seveus but paid no mind as his eyes wandered off to Sirius. His face was cold and stoic but his eyes always told a different story. There was a real rage that Severus hadn’t seen in years but there was also a sense of guilt and defeat. A sadness gleamed to them that made Severus’ stomach turn. He did not ever want to be put into the position of ever feeling sorry for one of the guys’ that made his life a living hell. However he knew how Lily left an impact on all of them and him calling her that disgusting, vile name was the cherry on top for the behaviour. 

Harry looked between the three adults but his face surprisingly didn’t give away anything. He saw the memory a few months ago of how his father and godfather hung Professor Snape underside down and was laughing like it was nothing. It wasn’t nothing, it was sexual assault and no one batted an eye at that. Not even his own mother who had laughed at her best friend before he called her that disgusting, vile word. 

An owl’s hoot interrupted Harry’s thoughts as he faced in front of him. 

“Oi Sev! A birdie’s here for ya!” Daniel’s deeper voice rang out as he cleared the cluttered table away from the old bills and paperwork. They were sitting in the kitchen of Severus’ house and the light above them was turned off. The sun peeking from the old, ratty curtains lit the overview of the table. 

“Alright I’m coming.” Severus shouted back from somewhere else in the house. 

“Y’a I know you were...” Daniel laughed to himself as he lit his fag and took a puff. 

Severus ran down the stairs with his hair half dried and his shirt backwards. “You fucker, I thought someone was here. I could have put my shirt on properly.” 

“Next time don’t let me fuck you in the middle of the day.” Daniel smugly said as he let out a cloud of smoke in Severus’ face. 

Ron pulled a face and Molly and Arthur looked at Severus closely. “How come you don’t curse nowadays, Sir?” Tonks asked as her hair turned shorter and pointy. 

“I have to keep up the facade.” Severus simply answered. 

“Get that out of here.” Severus whisked his hand back and forth before he took a seat next to Daniel. “At least smoke the good one.” 

“Shut up.” 

Severus laughed and turned his attention to the owl and used his wand to take the letter attached to her off. He unscrolled the letter and rolled his eyes fondly when he saw the Malfoy crest at the bottom. The wax looked fresh, meaning whatever was in this letter was urgent. 

No one but Daniel and Severus knew what was in the letter and Hermione looked disappointed that she couldn’t read it. Albus had a distance, nostalgic look in his eyes as he turned to Severus, who was watching the scene unfold in front of him. 

Severus’ eyes widened and he turned to his boyfriend, “Dan.” Severus passed the letter to him and watched the cigarette fall out his mouth. “Sevvy.” Daniel took a deep breath and looked at him, “Whatchu gonna do?” 

“I need the money…besides it would just be a few higher end potions, ain’t like it's hard.” Severus lowered his voice and his head on the table while Daniel wandlessly and wordlessly summoned a pen for his boyfriend. “Take it and then cut it off. Yer Da fucked you up with that thing that happened last year and you don’t need more stress. I’m takin’ a couple of more shifts from the store, so you can have the house all day for them potions. Understand?” Daniel listed off as he handed the pen off to Severus. 

The other looked at Daniel with disbelief, “Dan, I can’t ask you of that.” 

“Good thing you ain’t.” Daniel stood up from his seat and pressed a kiss on Severus’ slightly sweaty head and wandered off, leaving Severus with the decision. 

Not thinking too hard, Severus let out a sigh of breath and wrote a brief letter back. Saying how he appreciated the opportunity and wanted to start as soon as possible. He needed to make it up for Eden, he promised her. 

“You were forced?” Sirius couldn’t stop the words from coming out his mouth and felt very conflicted. 

“Not at first.” Severus replied, leaving no room for questions. He knew after the last few memories he would have to explain everything. 

Flashes of the past formed in front of them, ranging from young Severus and Lily hanging in an old looking park or a younger Eden giving Daniel and Severus a thumbs up as she walked into the office in the fancy hospital. Scenes of Severus playing piano and singing in a club, wearing eyeliner or punk clothes played. Secret dates between Severus and Daniel, them swimming in the river or running away from an older man who looked to be Severus’ father. Lazy mornings of Seveus and Daniel in post bliss while naked. The two making out in some alleyway. Singing on the streets while carrying half-filled bottles of cheap whiskey.  Severus cries over the corpse of his mother, switching straight to a jail cell and then another funeral with the blurry name of Eden Wilderberry. However, after laughter and melancholy switched and overlapped each other, the headache from everyone came to a stop when they stood in Severus' childhood home. This time Severus looked just as he did now, perhaps a few years younger. 

The broken doorbell gave a pathetic ring before it fuzzed out. Severus, who was washing the dishes-muggle style, flicked his wand up his sleeve and headed for the door. He opened it after looking through the peephole and seeing someone wearing a full black suit with badges pinned to their left hand breast pocket. Dread creeped onto every bone in Severus’ body and he went weak in the knees. He knew that three weeks without hearing from Daniel was strange but thought nothing of it. He plastered a fake smile and opened the door, “How can I help you?” Thankfully he was wearing the only pair of muggle clothes that didn’t have holes in it. Force of habit. 

“Are you Mr. Swan? Daniel Thomas Swan’s brother?” The man asked in a posh voice as he held his composure. 

Severus blinked before nodding his head, “Yes I am.” He’s sure that Daniel spelled someone to not question the fact that Severus was pale as snow while Daniel was dark chocolate.  However his thoughts feld when he noticed a few more in full uniform soldiers coming out of a limousine. They had the Great Britain flag folded up and a blank face. “Why?” That one word tore his life apart especially with how choked up he got. “What’s happening?” And yet he was fully aware, hence why his guard was done and tears were threatening to fall. 

“No..” Molly gasped as she put her hands over her mouth and looked to Severus with tears. 

“Mr. Swan, I apologise.” The soldier bowed his head and continued on, “Your brother was a great man and an even better soldier. He led his squadron through an airstrike mission and they got striked down. He left a letter, we will be back in two weeks with all his personal belongings and all finances set for the funeral. Many blessings and may God watch over you.” The soldier handed off the letter as the others made their way to the door and gave him the flag and saluted him. One by one, they marched off into the limo and drove away.  

Severus numbly closed the door and fell to his knees. His eyes became clouded with tears and he couldn’t think straight, not anymore. He was wishing this was a joke. For once in his life he wished this was a cruel joke they were playing on him. He couldn’t let out any sound but he pushed his head to the dirty floor and rocked back and front clutching the letter in his hands, the flag discarded somewhere else. He was shaking and couldn’t stop, the pain he knew wouldn’t stop. A raw scream ripped from his throat and the tears couldn’t stop. It was too excruciating. 

A gasp brought the teary eyes off the scene in front of them and forced them to face Severus. Minerva pulled him into a hug where he let his hair cover his face and the others turned their eyes back to the scene. Albus looked on with no expression. 

Severus slowly turned on his back with his face looking horrible, snot and tears covered his face and he turned to the letter in his hand. He brought it up to his face and slowly unpeeled it and unfolded it. 

Suddenly the memory changed the point of view and they were able to read the letter that Daniel left to Severus. 

Sevvy, 

I’d think you would be proud that I am able to write correctly instead of how I sound with my accent. No one appreciates the northern culture in these posh parts. The Slavics are getting crazy and on the news with those basketball players in the states and their scandal is not helping. The air feels nice but I cannot wait until you are in my arms again or my cock is buried in your arse. Sorry, it seems that I am getting off track. I want you to know that I love you more than there are stars in the sky, more than the fags that I smoke, more than my whole entire existence. However, writing this with the intention that you are reading this, brings a pain to myself that I haven’t felt in over thirty years. You came into my life and nothing has ever been the same for the better. Through the deaths, trauma, torture, failed therapy sessions, and mini music careers, we have shared…I would never choose differently. I will always choose you like you have always chosen me. I could write a whole novel, a whole series about you that will never end. but I want to keep this short and small. (I will send you the journals I’ve kept over here) Remember the promise the three of us made when we were just five years old? We cannot leave without a bang? I have done more with you than I ever thought was possible. You truly brought the light back into my life (not just because you are white) and I could never repay you for this. Promise me Sevvy, that you will not give up. Fight until the end and make sure you kill that Voldemort bastard for me? Just a little..or a lot. I’m in the air force now Sev, I can authorise this type of shit. I love you forever and always. 

Yours truly, 

Daniel T. Swan 

Severus blinked and lifted his head from Minerva and suddenly everything went black. The group found themselves back in the dining room in Grimmauld Place. Molly looked towards her grandfather clock with the enchantments built in and noticed it was almost three in the morning. “Severus.” Her silent apology was appreciated as she looked at him with Arthur behind. “I will see you all at the next meeting, the children must be heading to bed.” It was a weak excuse but Severus was grateful for it. 

“Ah yes Molly. Please forgive me.” Albus turned on his grandfather's tone and bid them a good evening as they walked out the room and headed upstairs to their rooms. Soon enough, everyone made their own excuses to leave Albus and Severus alone. Sirius couldn’t have waited any longer before he fled with Remus giving Severus a sad smile and headed along with the other. Minerva pressed a kiss on Severus’ cheek and wished him ‘a good night’ as well while she glared at Albus. Then it was two. 

“Take a seat, my boy.” Albus’ voice travelled from one ear to the other as he took a seat at the head of the table. 

“I would rather stand. Actually, I would rather ask you. What the fuck do you think that you are so much as intitled to? You ask me to spy on you? Fine, I did it with no issues. But asking me to completely expose myself in front of these people? I’ve never wanted anyone to ever know about Daniel, and now what happens if any of them gets captured? The Dark Lord would violate their minds and then everything you’ve built for is gone because he’ll know that I have a weakness and will kill me. And then Lily’s son will be doomed because I just fuck everything up!” Albus watched as Severus ranted as he stroked his beard and his thoughts wandered. 

There was no doubt this was true, however Albus couldn’t find it in him to care. “I care for you, Severus. You know that I have for these last couple of years. However I wanted you to be free of all troubles that you’ve kept for yourself. I know that it isn’t easy losing someone that you’ve loved-”

“Love. I still love him and that will never stop.” Severus interrupted as he took a seat next to Albus and played with a necklace underneath the layers of robes he wore. Severus didn’t want to hear the old man’s excuses or pity. “Did you know that we were supposed to be married that year?” Of course he wouldn’t have known but what else could Severus say. 

“We were going to be married and I found out that he was killed on July 7th of 1992.” Severus got up and headed to leave, “Today was the third anniversary since his death and you have stolen any fond memories that I could have of him.” 

Silence accompanied Albus as Severus left with his grief and pain. Something in today had broken between the two of them and it wouldn’t be until a few years down the line that Albus realised what. 

[daisyjohnsn]

had to drop my cat off for a sleepover at the vet i’m gutted i’m hysterical i’m a worried mutha

[bread-wizards]

I think that Orym actually does doubt Imogen, but this isn't a thing that is unique to Imogen. Orym doubts all of them to an extent, because paranoia is something he struggles with (and this is continuously reinforced by the story).

It's not a 'good' thing that he should never get over, nor is it an immoral character flaw that proves he actually hates Imogen. However it's also not something I think he can get over as long as the threat of having to possibly fight his friends exists.

"I have all the faith in the world in you guys, all of you. And I have also spent time thinking how to neutralize each of you."

[genekies]

tag vent

[a-god-in-ruins-rises]

tbh that last ask reminded me...