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ourloveisforthelovely · 4 years ago

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In Love and Death Chapter 15

Harry Potter AU

Link to Chapter 14

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating: M

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After Sirius calmed down, you went upstairs to the bedroom for a nap. After all of the excitement, you needed some rest. Regulus sat on the bed when you walked in. He looked up at you with those “please love me” eyes that typically got him anything that he wanted.

Ugh, why does he have to be so fudging adorable?

You thought as Regulus finally spoke.

“Is he okay?”

You nodded, sitting down beside him.

“I think I calmed him down. Regulus smirked. If there was someone that could talk anyone down after being upset by something...it was you. Even though you were typically sarcastic and sassy, you knew how to handle upset people like a champ.

“How did you do it? Scotch?”

Both of you laughed at that. It had been days since the two of you had a conversation like this and you realized how much that you missed it. You had missed “your” Regulus more than anything else. His sudden sullen quietness that he usually reserved for other people being directed at you was more hurtful than any of his icy words could have been. You understood though. He was still in a panicked state over you running after Harry and Bellatrix. It was risky...you had to admit that (especially given your condition). Had the roles been reversed you would have probably been a wreck to. You may have chosen your words and actions a little differently but you would have been upset.

“That is actually a brilliant idea, darling. I just talked him down. That’s what he needed. It's clearly a shock.”

Regulus took your hand in his as he traced his fingers over your palm. A “shock” was a great way of putting what he had just witnessed. Knowing that he had a niece that was 10 was a definite shock to Regulus’ system. He had tried to process his thoughts on the matter and was only coming up with anger and annoyance. Regulus’ main source of annoyance was with the child’s mother, whoever she was. The woman should have come to Sirius when she found out that she was expecting. He was already raising Harry so he could have easily supported his own child.

Your voice pulled Regulus from his thoughts.

“How are you feeling about it?”

Regulus turned his attention back to you.

“I don’t know. I mean...I always suspected that Sirius would knock some girl up with the way that he behaved but it's different now that it actually happened. Part of me is angry that Sirius is getting hit with this 10 years later. I mean, he’s missed 10 years of this child’s life. Another part is pissy because there wasn’t much that I could do to help him being dead and all. The last part is thrilled that this child didn’t grow up with my family...you know what a hot disaster that is. However, I have no idea what kind of trauma this child did grow up with...it could be 10 times worse than whatever we had to offer.”

You lay your head on his shoulder with a sigh. Regulus was definitely right on that one. This kid could be 100% blissfully normal or could be some poor damaged thing that grew up like yourself.

“Either way, she just lost her mother. That will be rough. No matter if a parent is cruel or not...when you lose a parent it's painful. You think about what you could have had if the fates would have been remotely kind to you.”

You said, sadly. Regulus immediately frowned, feeling awful. That statement alone told Regulus how you were feeling. No matter how tough of a front that you put up, you were missing your own mother. It was probably the way Regulus felt when he “woke up” to find that both of his own parents were dead. There was a mixture of relief and sadness.

“We can give the child something better, you know? I think Sirius will do just fine. It may be a bit of a dumpster fire at first but at least we won’t be our parents.”

You had to agree with Regulus on that one. Sirius, Regulus, and yourself at least knew what “not to do.” The three of you wouldn’t care if the child was a Slytherin or a Gryffindor or any house for that matter. You would see the child’s talents and what made that child “special.”

“That's true. We are most certainly not them.”

The two of you sat in silence until you squeaked as the baby shoved another little foot in your ribs. Regulus’ head turned in your direction.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded.

“I would be if your child would leave my ribs alone.”

Regulus smirked before gently placing his hand on your stomach. You were thrilled to see him smile when the baby moved under his hand.

“The baby has been moving a lot lately.”

Regulus commented, his smile not leaving his face.

“I guess I should stop drinking coffee if I want to make it another month. Just so you know, we are never doing this again.”

Regulus nodded. He was fine with this being the only one. Now that he knew healers didn’t know everything, he was pleased with the outcome.

“That’s fine with me. Y/n, about the past few days...I’m sorry that I have been a dick. Watching you run off after my psycho cousin scared the crap out of me. You know that I couldn’t function without you. Since I came back from whatever it was that Voldemort did to me...you’ve been the constant that I needed.”

You copied his action of taking his hand in yours and stroking your fingers over his palm. This was one of the ways to calm him down. A few soft strokes of your hand would leave Regulus a moldable little lump of clay in your hands.

“In your defense, it was kind of dumb for me to run after her.”

Regulus rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t have to be a dick though.”

“You had your reasons. Let's just say everything is okay and move on, huh?”

Regulus nodded, feeling thrilled for that outcome. If he could just have you back as his lover and things be normal he would be fine with everything in his life.

“That sounds really nice.”

The next morning you stood with Regulus and Sirius as the three of you waited to finally meet Lucinda. Neither Regulus nor Sirius had said much since arriving at the ministry. Sirius had been a nervous wreck all morning and had been anxiously tapping his fingers on any surface that he could get his hands on. It was Regulus that finally told him to “fucking stop.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the difference between both brothers. Sirius stood looking like his typical rock’n’roll god self while Regulus stood at your side in the dark suit that hugged his slender body perfectly.

Now isn’t the time to start drooling over him.

You thought with a smile as Sirius turned to his brother.

“What do I say?”

Regulus didn’t make a facial expression or turn to face his brother. How the fuck was he supposed to tell Sirius what to say when he didn’t know himself.

Hi, we are your family but just found out about you.

Hello, you’re coming with us. Do you have any emotional issues that we should know about?

Regulus had to choke back a smirk at both of those thoughts. Sirius was going to have to tackle this one. Regulus had no idea what he would say if the shoe was on the other foot.

“You could start with hello.”

Regulus suggested earning a sneer from his older brother.

“I am so glad that I asked you for help.”

Regulus again didn’t turn to his elder brother.

“You know that I’m not good at these things.”

“She’s your niece too.”

Sirius commented. Finally, Regulus turned to look at his brother.

“I am very much aware of that. Have you thought about just what we are getting ourselves into, Sirius? This child could be damaged...worse than what we were.”

Sirius closed his eyes. He didn’t want to think about that. The last thing that he wanted to consider was his own child could have had a worse childhood than him. In all of his years, Sirius had sworn that if he were to ever have a child that she/he would never grow up with abuse. Now that promise could have been for nothing…

“She’s still my daughter...traumatized or not. I can’t just do nothing.”

Regulus frowned.

“That isn’t what I meant. I only meant that we should both be prepared for the worst.”

Sirius nodded.

“You shouldn’t worry about it. You have your own family to deal with. Y/n will have your baby soon. You shouldn’t be worried about mine.”

The sentence left Sirius’ mouth before he really thought about what he had said. He knew, if it had been years before, Regulus would do nothing to help him. He would probably sit back and watch him suffer. It wasn’t until Sirius saw the annoyed expression on Regulus’ face did he realize that his brother wasn’t going to just leave him behind.

“You’re talking crazy. Whether I have my own family or not, you are still my brother and I’m not letting you do this alone.”

You sniffed earning a stare from both Regulus and Sirius.

“God damn these pregnancy hormones...you two are making me want to cry. This is worse than the sad abused pet commercial.”

Before Sirius or Regulus could make a comment, a witch stepped out of the office. Her attention went to Sirius before smiling politely.

“Mr. Black, I am sorry to have kept you waiting. If you all will come with me.”

Sirius was crossing the room without a second thought. Regulus’ hand wrapped around yours, seeking reassurance that only you could provide. You gave him a small smile before the two of you followed Sirius into a small office. The witch turned with another kind smile.

“She hasn’t said more than two words since she has been with us. I believe that the poor dear has suffered something horrible in her short life.”

Regulus turned to face you with a dark expression that said “I knew it.” Sirius was unable to say a word so it was Regulus that turned to the woman and said a quiet thank you.

The three of you waited until the witch walked out of the room before turning to face the small girl sitting by the window. Both Sirius and Regulus glanced at each other as the little girl turned. Right away both brothers could see their mother as a child looking back at them. Everything about Lucinda screamed Walburga Black only with deliberate differences. She was a lot smaller than Walburga at ten years old.

You, meanwhile, couldn’t help but smile. Everything about her screamed Sirius and Regulus Black. Her eyes matched her father’s, however, the expression on her face reminded you of Regulus.

The poor dear looked scared to death. Your newly acquired maternal instincts kicked in and you wanted nothing more than to hug the poor little girl and stroke your fingers through her curly dark hair...yet another feature that she shared with Regulus.

You stood quietly beside Regulus as Sirius knelt down in front of Lucinda and spoke quietly.

“Hi sweetheart, I know this all has to be very confusing for you and I’m sorry that you are going through the things that you are. I’m…”

“You’re my father. I know. I heard what the woman out there said to some other people.”

Sirius nodded.

“I am. I don’t know everything about you, dear but I won’t let anything bad happen to you again. You can have a family now. Speaking of which, this is your uncle Regulus and aunt Y/n. They are going to help take care of you too.”

The whole way back to Grimmauld Place, Lucinda didn’t say much. Her eyes were focused solely on the road in front of her. You had a feeling that Regulus was going to be right about the whole thing. This poor dear had seen things that children hadn’t seen and had no idea how to recover from it.

You stood in the kitchen helping Tonks cook dinner. Tonks gave you a smile before patting your arm.

“You know that it is all going to be okay, right? We are going to get the little love straightened out and before long we’ll all make some strange big happy family.”

Regulus was sitting at the table and laughed at Tonks’ comment.

“She’s onto something, Y/n. Notice that she said strange. I think that's fitting.”

“Strange works for us.”

You commented as Lucinda walked in. She sat down across from Regulus. Her eyes had locked on you watching your every move. Tonks elbowed you in the side with a small grin as if telling you to “work some magic.”

“So sweetheart, what foods do you not like?

The little girl shrugged.

“I’m not picky ma’am.”

Regulus’ eyes rolled up from the paper as you tilted your head.

“You don’t have to call me ma’am.”

Lucinda shrugged.

“Mother would have beaten me if I didn’t.”

Both Regulus and yourself locked gazes. You could see the fury quickly building in your lover’s face as he pressed his lips together. Taking a breath, you crossed the room and sat down beside Lucinda.

“I had a mother like that too. Lucinda you were born into a family that didn’t appreciate you. Now things are going to be very different. You have a lot of people who care for you now.”

The following weeks proved to be some of the more difficult for everyone in the house. You quickly began to realize how much Lucinda’s early childhood reminded you of your own and it was one of the more painful things that you had dealt with in a long time. Lucinda reminded you so much of yourself as a child. She was quiet, agreeable, and quickly grown to following you all over the place (and you didn’t mind). She was quickly opening up to everyone a little more with each day.

You smiled at how much she reminded you of an even mixture of Regulus and Sirius. Something told you that once she “came into her own,” Lucinda would be the perfect little trouble maker. Sirius was too good at getting caught. Lucinda, however, had Regulus’ sneaky nature and would probably get away with whatever the task was.

One morning, you stood in the kitchen feeding your obsessive need for hot chocolate. Regulus and Sirius had gone off on a mission leaving Tonks and yourself at home with Lucinda.

“Hot chocolate again?”

Tonks smirked at the expression on your face as you shoved another bite of a cupcake in your mouth.

“Yes.”

Tonks gave Lucinda a playful smile before turning back to you.

“If you keep feeding that baby like that, he will never want to be born.”

You rolled your eyes before turning and going off in search of a bottle of water.

“Yeah, well I don’t think that is going to be happening.”

Tonks quickly sat up on the counter.

“Yeah, and why is that?”

You turned.

“Considering that I have been having contractions all morning off and on.”

Tonks' amused expression immediately turned to worry. She quickly looked down at her watch. Jumping off of the counter, Tonks quickly began to pace.

“It's too soon. You have another month and a half. Have you called Regulus?”

“Tonks, it's a bit early to panic. It isn’t like my water…”

As soon as you said it a wet sensation went down your legs. Tonks met your gaze as her mouth dropped. She quickly turned and tossed her phone at Lucinda who effortlessly caught it.

“Darling, call your father and uncle. Keep calling them obnoxiously until one of them answers the phone.”

Tonks turned back to you. She gently pushed you into an empty chair. Had it not been for the pain of another contraction you may laugh at the hilarity of the situation. Tonks was spazzing out as if she had never given birth herself.

“There’s no stopping it now. I’m going to go get Molly. She of all people will know what to do. I want to sit here and breathe. REMUS!”

“Right here, why are you yelling, darling?”

Remus asked, stepping into the room looking confused. Tonks was practically jumping up and down as she pointed to you over and over. Remus raised an eyebrow.

“My water broke.”

You explained. Remus’ mouth dropped as he followed his wife’s example and checked his watch.

“It…”

“Too early...I know...baby is coming…”

You whimpered through gritted teeth. Lucinda was still playing phone tag with Sirius and Regulus. She finally gave up and turned to you.

“I’m not getting either of them, aunty. Dad’s line just rings and Regulus’ is going straight to voicemail.”

You rolled your eyes before internally muttering to yourself to calm down. The last thing that you wanted to do was traumatize the poor girl in front of you anymore.

“Regulus probably broke his phone again.”

Remus finally pulled himself out of his own state of worry.

“I’ll go get them. I know where they went.”

You nodded as Remus disappeared from the room. Molly quickly appeared into the room taking Remus' place. Her friendly face was full of worry as she reached you. Tonks was behind her still looking as if she was taking Regulus’ place in having a panic attack. It took all that you had not to giggle.

“Y/n, Dora said that your water broke?”

You nodded, still trying to keep your calm and casual persona.

“Yep. That is the way that it looks. I think Dora is having a worse time though.”

Molly quickly reached out for your hand.

“Come on, we need to get you into bed.”

You shook your head.

“Oh no...not yet. I want to wait right here to tell Regulus that my mother was right. Sex is bad.”

Molly instantly broke out into a fit of laughter. Had she not been through childbirth so many times; the comment wouldn’t be as funny. Hearing it come from the first time mum was all the more adorable.

“I’ll be sure to let him know what you said. Now come, dear. We need to get you settled.”

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astraljedi · 4 years ago

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Oblivion | Part I (The Mandalorian)

Summary: The Mandalorian was summoned to Nevarro by Greef Karga for a specific quarry after one of his favorite hunters is presumed dead.

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Reader (she/her)

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Mention of death, lost of memory, violence, blood, abuse, curse words, drugs and some traumatic shit. ALSO SOFT DIN

Word count: 3K+

A/N: I’m new to the Star Wars fandom and to be honest I’m a little scared posting this. Please don’t scream at me if I made any mistakes, I’m still catching up with everything. Also, this is going to be a two part story and It has taken me about three days to fully finish the first part, so I hope you guys enjoy and happy new year’s eve!

The warm volcanic air of Nevarro greeted The Mandalorian as he exited the Razor Crest and headed towards de cantina to meet with Greef Karga. As per usual, everyone's eyes landed on the shiny beskar helmet while The Mandalorian quietly walked by himself with his Amban sniper rifle on his back.

Walking into the busy cantina, Mando moved towards Karga, sitting on the room's far end. "Mando!" Karga greeted him, ushering him to sit down on the opposite seat before Karga.

"What's the job?" Mando asked, cutting straight to the point and skipping the "friendly" welcome. Karga sighed, his hands landing on the beverage on the table.

"Right to the point, okay." Karga began. The Mandalorian watched through his visor at the man before him, who leaned in closer, not wanting anyone to eavesdrop on the private conversation.

"No offense, but you're one of my faithful hunters who knows how to get the job done, no questions asked. But I also have my favorite hunter, similar to you, without the beskar armor." Karga announced, his eyes wandering around the others surrounding them inside the cantina. He didn't want to drive more attention to the table, more than its already been drawn by the beskar armor. "She's strong, straightforward forward, and never fails me. Reasons why I gave her the quarry only her or you could've handled, especially when the rich would pay any amount to end any theft from their fortune. You were away with other pucks, and she was free, so I gave it to her."

"Let me guess, she failed you, and now you need me to do the job?" Mando sighed under his helmet, crossing his arms over his chest.

"We presume she's dead; some members of the Guild found her ship raided and full of blood. It's a loss we all felt deeply, which you don't see a lot in here. She cared for everyone, and it rubbed off on some of us. Her death is on that quarry's life, and I count on you to avenge her death." Karga was resting his back on his seat, waiting for a response from the hunter in front of him.

"Do I need to bring them in alive?"

"No, only bring the body for confirmation." Karga disclosed, sliding the puck over to Mando with the tracking fob. "It's double the amount of what I originally offered. It's going to be a heavy payday for you, Mando."

"She was that good, huh?" The Mandalorian stood up from his seat, hanging the sniper rifle again behind his back. He was a bit curious about the girl and how comparable she was to him.

"You might have seen her before. She used to work here from time to time in the cantina. And now that I think of it, one time you came here to meet with me, and she was serving me the drinks that day." Karga remembered, and so did The Mandalorian. "The bounty's last known location was Maldo Kreis. Good luck, Mando."

On the way back to his ship, Mando was deep in his thoughts. He remembered that day very clearly.

He remembered the girl. How could he forget?

"I don't want to be rude, but I would offer you a drink, but I know you can't take that shiny bucket off." Y/N chuckled, grabbing Karga's empty cup to replace it with a new one full of spotchka. She had watched him arrive earlier into the cantina; her older brother used to talk about The Mandalorians when they were children. She had never seen one in person before. She watched him glide through the people in the cantina towards Karga, how only a few dared to look at the man in the beskar, and others had their eyes on the floor. Too scared to even look at the feared hunter.

Karga chuckled at her comment before taking a sip of his new drink. Mando tilted his helmet at her in curiosity. She wasn't intimidated by him and made a light joke about his armor.

When The Mandalorian didn't answer, she sighed and looked away from the tinted T shaped visor. Y/N walked away with Karga's previous empty cup and headed towards another table to serve them with her funny jokes instead, where others will appreciate them.

Thankful for the helmet, he heard Karga tell him about the previous bounty Mando had captured, how he never disappoints in getting the job done. "You might give my favorite hunter a run for her credits." Karga joked, emptying his second drink of the day. But The Mandalorian's eyes followed the girl. She was behind the bar now, laughing with her other customers as she leaned herself on the counter. Her mid-length dark hair bounced around every time her shoulders moved from her laughing and her tiny figure moving around the back of the spacious bar, gliding through without a hassle. "Y/N! Get your pretty face over here with another refill, sweet face." Mando's eyes shifted to the very drunk customer far away from the bar where Y/N stood.

She laughed at the drunken state he was, filling up his cup with some water instead, cutting him off from his usual drink. "That's enough for the evening, Gyan. You have a family to get to, remember?" Her sweet voice passed right him, the sweet scent from her hair hitting him with a whiff.

Y/N, now the girl who he watched over had a name.

Many people were intimidated by the beskar armor, but she didn't even flinch from making a joke about it. Even after he didn't answer her, she didn't shake in fear, and she walked away disappointed. Was she expecting something else? The Mandalorians came across as cold and people of not many words. She knew that, but deep down, she didn't believe it entirely from all the stories others would tell about them and their creed.

Mando landed on the ice planet two days ago.

Tracking down the bounty was surprisingly too easy, Mando thought. The tracking fob immediately started going crazy on the first day while he hunted around the planet. Once he found him, he watched his every move.

Not only did he want to assure a good plan, but he also wanted to figure out how the girl got herself killed for a simple quarry that didn't even bother hiding.

Maz was wanted for theft, and he owned a lot of people's credits. The usual. Maz had the same routine strangely; he visited the markets early, creating chaos with innocent villagers, and then spent the rest of the day in a cantina with possibly other bounty's.

One of the things Mando noticed first was that Maz wasn't ever alone. He always had to be surrounded by people to praise him and make sure he felt he had the power. Maz still had six guards with him. Four of them guarded the outside. While two were by the back of the cantina, the others guarded the front door. And that left the Maz and two other bodies with him inside.

Mando could quickly grab the guards in the back successfully and then attack the ones in the front before dragging them with the rest of the bodies behind the cantina. He liked those odds.

Part of his evening entourage, he brought one woman with a metal neck collar hooked on to a chain for him to drag her around like some pet. The woman had barely any clothing on for the shivering weather, and it was torture and cruel.

They had her wearing a tiny leather top that did nothing to hide the purple bruises on her neck and shoulders. Mando also noticed marks that could only be caused by a whip on her exposed back. She also wore a torn skirt that didn't cover much of her barely functioning legs. But Mando never saw her face. They always dragged her around with a bag over her head.

The Mandalorian prepared for his attack on the third day. As planned, he managed to seize the men on the back of the cantina without any problems. And then he followed with the other two guards by the front door. Maybe the guards were for appearances because they went down quickly and quietly, or The Mandalorian was that good. Mando swiftly dragged both bodies towards the back and huddled all four of them in a pile against the bar's walls.

The cantina's door unlatched and revealed The Mandalorian standing under the frame while the snow flew into the cantina. Immediately, all eyes were on Mando as his eyes scanned the place, looking for Maz. The air in the cantina stiffened at The Mandalorian's presence. Every single pair of eyes followed him while he proceeded to take a seat by the bar, a safe distance to the corner of the room where he spotted Maz with the girl sitting down on his lap miserably.

"Two chowders to go," Mando ordered, trying to blend in as he wasn't there for a quarry. He passed some credits to the bartender while his eyes caught a glimpse of the girl's face when she moved uncomfortably on Maz's lap.

"Y/N." Mando thought to himself, how could he forget her? Her hair was longer, and she looked slimmer, probably caused by the lack of meals Maz didn't give to her. Mando's blood boiled as he watched the dirty man's hands caressing Y/N's bruised and sensitive skin while he chatted away with another person sat on the table as well.

Y/N dozed off, her head feeling heavy, and her exhausted body was about to give out on her. She couldn't even remember how she got there and what they gave her to tame her down. Everything was a blur.

If she could, she would've blown up the whole bar into ashes. Make every living being that touched, drugged, and tossed her around to burn into oblivion.

Mando had a plan to grab Maz, but it flew out the window once he noticed who the girl was. The seat that Maz's "friend" occupied was now free, and while "waiting" for his chowder, he slipped into the empty chair.

He regretted his change of plan the moment his eyes landed on the poor girl. The open wounds that would heal into scars horrified him. It angered him the most. Mando was going to make Maz pay for every mark he left on her body. "A Mandalorian? Thought those only existed in stories." Maz tried to hide his widened eyes from the hunter. Mando smirked under his helmet, sensing the fear in Maz's eyes.

Mando's hand rested on top of his blaster that rested on his side. Tilting his helmet, he studied and watched Maz, and he knew the guy would never be the criminal to carry a blaster. He needs a pack of guards because he didn't even know how to handle a blaster by himself. He was all about appearances and less about his fighting skills. "And now they are going to exist in your worst nightmares."

The first shot from Mando's blaster went off and hit the closest guard to Maz in his chest. The first guard's body fell to the floor with a loud thud while others either stared at the fight that was about to break down, and some decided to leave the bar. Before it, all got a little too messy for their liking.

Maz shot up from his seat, not caring that Y/N had fallen to the floor. He gripped on the metal chain tied to her neck collar and dragged her up to her feet as he made a run for the door. Mando had purposely let Maz get a head start; he knew he couldn't get too far with Y/N's weakened state.

The final guard, who was the furthest, made a run towards the hunter, but Mando was quick to his feet and grabbed one of the knives on the table and flew it across the bar for it to land on the guard's shoulder. Stomping his way towards the guard, he hovered over his unbearable body and sent his final shot from his blaster to his chest.

The bartender rose from behind the bar, where he had found shelter from the fight. He watched as the hunter exited the cantina to catch up to Maz, who hadn't gotten very far as Mando had anticipated.

One thing The Mandalorian didn't expect was seeing Maz holding a blaster to Y/N's temple. "God, she can't even lean on him for support from the pain she's in." Mando thought to himself, his grip tightening on the snipper he pulled out from his back. He aimed it at Maz, taking slow steps towards his quarry.

"Give up, Maz. We both know you don't stand a chance." Y/N heard Mando's filtered voice from afar. She was thrown around by Maz for a long time, that the little hope she had of being rescued from the torture had faded every time the sun left the horizon and left her in complete darkness.

Maz had the safety on his blaster. What an idiot.

Mando was about to shot at Maz's shoulder when suddenly, from the corner of his eyes, he watched Y/N slip out a blade from the waistband of her skirt. She must have gotten it after she fell from the first guard laid on the floor after Mando shot him. Maz didn't even know what was coming for him.

Y/N used the little energy she had and pushed the knife into Maz's abdomen, causing him to force her out of his grip and fall on to his knees from the sudden pain. He shrieked in pain while holding the knife still pressed into his body in shock. "He did tell you that you didn't have a chance." Y/N coughed only a few feet away from him, looking straight at Maz as the blood-stained the pale snow underneath him.

"Should've given you a painful death the night we took you." Maz groaned, pulling the knife out of his stomach. "You were worth-" Maz's words caught short, Mando shutting him up with a shot to his chest. Maz's eyes rolled back, and he fell onto his back on the snowy ground.

Tears spilled out of Y/N's eyes. She never thought she was going to make it out alive at all. "Hey, we need to get you out of this weather." Mando knelt to her level on the floor, wrapping his cape around her shoulders to bring in a little bit of warmth to her body. She nodded in response, but before she could force herself to stand up, he already had her in his arms pressed into his chest.

Instead of going to his ship, he preferred getting those chowders he had ordered earlier for her to eat before the flight back to Nevarro. "You might want to eat first." His voice was soft, caring for the petite hunter before him.

Food. Y/N hadn't had a warm meal in such a long time that she devoured the first bowl of chowder too quickly for her liking. Mando sat silently across her, watching her finish up the first bowl in minutes. "Want the other one?" Mando asked, sliding the second bowl towards her.

"Please, I'm starving." It was good that she was eating. The drug that made her doze off was wearing off quicker thanks to the food. The other great news was that Mando had managed to break off the metal collar from her neck. She was free to walk and eat without the cold metal pushing up against her neck. "Thanks again for everything." She went from living a nightmare to finding some peace. Maybe it won't last that much longer, but she enjoyed it a little bit. She enjoyed the hot meal.

After she finished the second bowl, Mando brought the empty dishes to the bar counter a few feet away from the table where he previously sat with her. He tried passing the bartender some extra credits for the mess he caused earlier, but the bartender refused to take the credits. He was merely glad that Maz was gone from his cantina.

Mando nodded as a thank you towards the bartender when he gave them extra food for the flight. "She suffered a lot in the hands of those criminals. I'm glad she's safe now." The bartender explained to the hunter as they both watched her from afar snuggled up into Mando's cape.

After Y/N and The Mandalorian said their final goodbyes to the cantina's owner, he pressed her close for her to lean on him as they walked to her rhythm towards his ship with Mando dragging Maz's body behind him with the same chain Maz had tied up to Y/N neck collar. Y/N was grateful for the food, but she was even more when Mando's ship greeted her with its warmth. "I have never been this excited to see a Razor Crest before." She chuckled, her cheeks gaining a slight red tint.

Mando moved around the ship, trying to gather up a couple of blankets he had stored away. "I don't have a change of clothing, but I did grab these for you."

Y/N mumbled a thank you to Mando and pulled off his cape from her shoulders to replace them with a slightly thicker material to keep her even warmer. "I suggest you rest for a while if you can." He suggested, sitting on the pilot seat and getting the ship ready for departure. Y/N made herself more than comfortable on the chair behind him by the right side of the cockpit.

Y/N relaxed her shoulders as she let the soft material of the chair rest snug to her body. "Thanks again for rescuing me, metalhead." She mumbled, sleep consuming her quickly.

Mando snorted under his helmet. Even after going through what she did, she managed to make fun of him. He watched her over his shoulder, her chest rising up and down while she faded into her deep sleep. He pulled himself away from staring and sent the Razor Crest into hyperspace after placing the coordinates to Nevarro.

"You don't need me to rescue you. You saved yourself out there." Mando whispered, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

#The Mandalorian #The Mandalorian Imagines #The Mandalorian Imagine #The Mandalorian x reader #The Mandalorian fic #Din Djarin imagines #din dijarin fanfiction #The Mandalorian Fanfiction #din dijarin x reader #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal fics

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hyrule-kingdom-updates · 3 years ago

Note

ALL of the emojis for Siv :D

What is the kindest thing your OC has ever done for someone? What is the kindest thing someone has ever done for them? On the flip side, what is the worst thing your OC has done to another person?

I don’t think I can point out a *single* ultimate kind act, but Siv raising and caring for his brother throughout their whole childhood is definitely one of the kindest periods of his life. Spoilers, but: Siv didn’t actually believe himself to be capable of being a knight, in fact Ligero was specifically trying to keep him out of Larc’s life, letting them grow to be more independent, giving Siv every reason to be jealous and spiteful. But Siv trained to be a knight anyways because he didn’t want his brother to be alone through it all. He would never admit it, but Siv is a really kind and soft person. He cared for everyone of LinkLink’s scars and scabs when they went shield surfing, he took Zavis to a surprise party when his mother didn’t bother to throw anything that special. He wrote Revali letters, he sewed little rat plushies for Aryll to add to her collection—and I think it all stems from his childhood, where the only thing that he was certain of, the only choice that he could without a doubt claim was a good and kind thing that he didn’t mess up on, was caring and loving for someone that he by all other means didn’t have to.

As for the kindest thing someone has done for him, well honestly I think Siv would consider anyone giving him a basic amount of respect and appreciation as the “kindest” thing. Although once, Zavis allowed himself to team up with Link to plan a perfect party for Siv, which is to say, a very notable feat.

As for the worst thing Siv has done to someone: that’s probably spoilers. :3

What does your OC do when they see others upset or in pain? An upset friend? A stranger?

If a stranger was upset, Siv would probably just think, “Sucks to suck!” and move on. Unless they were like, REALLY sobbing, to the point where it would be impossible to ignore. Then he might stop walking, chat them up and buy them a drink, maybe hear their woes, but that’s probably it.

If it was a friend, he’d be immediately on their case, but would still try to play it off as him being an apathetic, disgruntled guy. But you know, Siv didn’t become an official royal Branch Buddy for nothing.

What is something true about your OC that they refuse to admit about themselves? Is there any reason to this besides embarrassment?

Under absolutely no circumstances will Siv admit that he is shorter than anyone. He finds it completely unfair that BOTH of his brothers are taller than him. He would hate it if you told him so, but Siv without a doubt has inherited a bit of his father’s ego, so calling him short, or even complimenting his hot royal guard brother when Siv is right there would ruffle his feathers to say the least

Describe a regular day for your OC. What is their schedule (if they have one).

Pre-Orator days, Siv basically wakes up whenever he wants (usually past noon), feeds the pet rats in the alleyways, then heads to the underground. Everyday is scraping enough rupees for a hot meal and a drink by selling illegal tickets to the underground monster fights, maybe organize a rigged gambling ring or two, and obviously scam any ten year olds that were looking to enter the world of pocket monster fighting themselves. Then when the “work” day is done, he’ll pop by an adequate tavern (the only one that would tolerate letting someone like him around) and eat and drink, and...that’s pretty much it.

As the Royal Orator, Siv wakes up and immediately heads to the dining hall, then hauls all the food and drink over to his office by 10am, cause that’s when his official work hours kick in. He then has to just sit there, listen to people’s grievances and input that will promptly be ignored (by either his hand, or most certainly by his superiors) while also posting out the important announcements and rat doodles with the Quill of Roost(both pre and post consumption). He might grab lunch in between and do fuck all, but by 9pm he’s gone out and about, doing whatever it takes to get as little sleep as possible because he doesn’t really like the sort of dreams he’s been having.

Current Siv doesn’t have a schedule, but he does have an agenda.

How does your OC think they will die? Does death scare them? Is there any reason for this?

Siv isn’t thinking about death. In truth, he thought he would have died much, MUCH earlier. Maybe get stabbed or executed? Maybe have a poor run in with an ex or particularly angry victim of his scams? But hey, now that’s he’s living the high life with all this power, he doesn’t care about death! For all he knows, he could live forever as long as he sticks with Ganon! All he has to do is follow what he says, and he’ll be happy forever and never have to fear anything ever again.

What is your OC’s most traumatic experience? (If they don’t have just one traumatic experience either pick one or describe them all!)

The Asunder Incident.

Siv constantly questions himself after that, “Why would I do that? Was I really capable of killing someone? Surely not, I’m not...I’m not that bad...” but the facts obviously stated otherwise. This was basically the incident that cemented himself as the person he is at the start of hku, apathetic and broken. He wouldn’t admit it then, but this singular event basically solidified everyone’s prejudice and perception of him, and rightfully proved them correct. It was his own actions that left him hated, abandoned, and alone, so yeah, he can’t complain now, it’s all his fault.

How would your OC react to the death of a friend/family member/loved one? Is there anyone they can confide in?

If Ligero died he would throw a fucking party for the ages.

Other than that, yeah, if someone he knew and cared about died he would be very heart broken about it. I think the only person he would really confide in about it would be Larc, but if it WAS Larc that died...I can only assume he would at the very least be severely depressed. He’s his favourite, cherished, little brat brother, after all.

What would your OC be like if they were evil. Or if they’re already evil what would they be like as the good guy?

This is an interesting question given that...I’ve already shown both sides to this, haven’t I? Maybe I’ll just let the story speak for itself...

How would your OC react to somebody telling them that they love them? (+ bonus give another characters/OC name!)

Siv would first play it off as a joke because defense mechanism! “Haha, yeah, and you know what I love? The bathroom!” and he would be off escape the situation. But if they were persistent, he would be very flustered and very...vulnerable, and scarily sentimental in his opinion. It would take some time, but I believe eventually he would really, truly accept it, in the end. Although patience is certainly a virtue, it took an entire childhood for him to use the L word for his brother.

What does your OC hate about themself? What lies about themself do they believe? On the flip side, What does your OC love about themself?

He hates being a bad person. He does not believe himself to be good or worthy of anything, thus he internalizes it wholeheartedly in order to gain that sense of control. So now that Siv’s accepted he will never be truly happy, he’s like, “Great! I can just not care about anyone else now.”

Thankfully, that’s changed recently, and he now believes, “You know what? I’m NOT a bad person! It’s everyone else that’s been wronging me! The problem with me is that I’ve been way to much of a coward to take what I deserve, so now I’m gonna do it, no matter what! I deserve to not be hurt anymore, and if I can’t do whatever it takes to achieve that, then how can I say I deserve to be happy in the first place?” Be sure to thank Calamity Ganon for that pep talk.

Right now Siv loves his power. He’s had the most control and power in this one relationship with Ganon than he’s ever had with anyone else in his entire life. He’s finally on top! Number one! He has something to really be proud of about himself! The old Siv hated themselves, but now that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Does your OC have any scars? How and when did they get them?

He doesn’t have any notable scars, especially given that he’s got the power o’ malice, baby! Malice is a representation of many things, one of them being time and memory, so it’s pretty easy for it to heal and return skin, flesh, and bone to a prior state. Perfect for healing and repairing people and objects, alike! Of course, malice is more famous for doing the opposite, sucking your soul out from you prematurely, feeling yourself die rapidly, your last breath being snatched and forced out of your lungs, a thousand breaths meant for a lifetime suddenly sapped out in a few minutes. But I don’t know why I’m talking about that, that’s not relevant haha

What is something your OC blames themself for and is it really their fault? Does it keep them up at night and is there any lingering trauma?

The Asunder Incident, he blames his actions for leading him to basically abandon his brother for like fifteen years. But that’s all I’m gonna say as I have plans to talk about his feelings on it further in the actual story.

In what situation would your OC be pushed to commit an act of violence? Would they go as far to kill someone if they had to? How would this affect them and their relationships with others?

Why, I can’t answer this in detail! That’d be giving away the story :3

Ok, maybe I’ll say this: Siv tells himself that he would do anything to get what he wants, of course he would do anything, because if he can’t, well then that just means he’s a pathetic coward who doesn’t deserve happiness anyways. So of course he claims that he will do anything, even killing someone.

What would your OC do if they were given god-like powers or the ability to change anything about the world for a whole day?

Siv would eliminate all shitty parents, maybe also give revive some dead people, and also permanently have a giant neon green tattoo of a dick be on Ligero’s forehead. Assivus would do the first thing, but he might also make everyone who has ever wronged him suffer for a very long time on top of that.

Describe one of your OC’s worst nightmares.

- Oh no, made a ficlet.

The first night he was in the castle, he had a dream.

There was a man, sitting across from him, dressed in glittering gold, with a green sash wrapped across his chest and waist. He was tapping his long nails against a desk, HIS desk, the white and purple quill still in the cup of ink, and blank parchment in front of him.

The man looked very out of place, and that was ignoring the fact that he was a withering corpse.

You’re dashing, aren’t you? The man said, still tapping his fingers. That’s when Siv realized that he was just sitting opposite to him, in the seat where guests were supposed to be. He tried to speak, but couldn’t. He tried to move, but couldn’t. He tried to blink, but didn’t.

He sat there and listened to the man, attentively.

Do you know what you’re doing here, Asunder? the man asked. Asivus didn’t. Do you know why I’ve allowed you here? What you are?

Siv didn’t know, but he couldn’t exactly express as such.

That’s because you don’t need to know. At least for now. The man leaned forward like mist, disappearing as Siv felt something pass through him, he couldn’t turn to look behind him as a delicate hand was on his shoulder. You’ll know things when I want you to know. You’ll say things when I want them to be said. And you will do things when I want them to be done. Because I own you. Err...

The man suddenly stopped to think, leaning on the right arm of Siv’s chair, tapping his bony chin, as if he had made a casual slip of the tongue. Because...you owe me. Yes, that’s the word. I’ve helped you so much Assivus Asunder. Or “will?” “Have?” “Am currently?” Futures and times are a funny thing. I apologize, I’ll have my words sorted out into something more professional and proper in our future.

The man spun around, and suddenly, he was no longer a corpse, but a dashing Gerudo man, dressed brilliantly and handsomely. His eyes were no longer a hollow gold, but green, somehow familiar.

The room was no longer some dinky orator office, but the sanctum of the castle, the apex of the kingdom. The man snapped his head towards him.

Let me ask you something, Assivus Asunder: Would you rather be here?

He gestured to the grand view of the sanctum, the sunset casting striking shades of red, black, and gold across the towering walls.

Or here?

The world spun once again, and they were suddenly on a dark street. The houses of Rauru diced the stone brick pavement. Siv glanced around and saw himself, sitting on the ground. There were two knights, one of them cursing loudly, and the other laying down beside him. There was so much blood and he could feel himself floating closer and—

No. NO. Wait. STOP. PLEASE! He tried to speak, scream, anything. No sound came. He saw a sword, a dark and rich puddle that seemed to even reflect his own face and—

They were suddenly back in the office.

Which is better? What do you prefer, of the two? I’m assuming the former? The man looked at him. I will allow you to nod yes or no to the former.

Siv immediately nodded a yes.

Trick question!The man boomed. Both are fantastic places, environments that you should love and cherish. There is so much good hiding in the places you would least expect, Assivus. I’ll help you remember that.

The world was suddenly nothing. Nothing but black. Just him, in a chair, staring at this smiling, pleasant, scary, red haired man.

Don’t you want help, Assivus? I think there’s something you want, that you need help attaining? Isn’t there something? There’s no shame in admitting.

Siv thought for a moment, then slowly nodded a yes.

Do you want MY help?

Uhh...Siv wasn’t sure what to make of that.

Perhaps you can do a favor for me?

Fuck no! was Siv’s immediate thought. Who the fuck—First off, I don’t think I really like you, actually, so—

Oh that’s alright! The man was suddenly very close to his face. Oh shit, could he hear my thoughts? Assivus, you can do whatever you want to do to be happy. I don’t want to force anything from you. He patted his cheek with a very cold hand.

In fact, I’ve now decided you don’t have to do anything for me. I am going to help you, and you don’t need to do anything in return. The man stood back, clasping his hands together. How does that sound?

I... He tried to speak, but remembered he couldn’t even move his lips.

I’m sorry again, Asunder. Here, I’ll allow you to speak now. The man didn’t even wave a hand, but Siv could suddenly feel how hoarse and dry his throat was.

So how about it, Assivus Asunder? I want you to be in charge of your destiny, I want you to be in total control. I would never force anything from you, I will simply be here, by your side, helping here and there, as you...figure it all out. How is that? Does that sound alright?

Siv opened his mouth, but couldn’t decide the words. If I say yes can I go back to sleep? Hella tired...

The man didn’t move, but Siv someone sensed a whisper beckoning somewhere with a “Yes. We’re all tired of many things, aren’t we?”

“O-Ok...” Siv finally said. “Alright, sure. I don’t see why n—”

Before the words were fully out of his mouth, the world suddenly stopped dead, as quick as a snap. He awoke from his bed with a jolt, his heart racing like he had just run a marathon, even though he didn’t find those last moments to be that thrilling or terrifying.

Siv sat for a moment longer, trying to contemplate the dream. But as most dreams are, the memory of it fell out of his grasp like loose sand between his fingers, and soon enough, it was already gone.

He flopped back into bed with a sigh.

Whatever it was, it was probably nothing.

What advice would your OC give to their younger self? What advice does your OC need now?

Already answered in a previous ask c:

#oc ask game #out of character #Asivus Hartell #hku spoilers #Yes the ficlet at the end I'd consider canon

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warriorlid14 · 4 years ago

Note

Please do elaborate

OKAY SO PACIFISM IS A PRIVILEGE!!

Like, okay. Obviously we all want to live in a peaceful society where no one gets hurt and all problems are solved with discussions and civility.

But that assumes that everyone is civil.

So this post was about the hunger games, right? We have a society where citizens are basically slaves. Where if you speak up, you will be killed. Where if you try to feed your family, you will be beaten (hi Gale). Where you have no freedoms. No rights. No voice.

How are people supposed to react? By sending angry letters to Snow? By knocking on the doors of your fellow citizens? No. The only thing they could do was rebel. Was fight back.

"But people died!" Yeah, and that sucks. That really, really sucks. But what was the alternative? People were already dying. People were already suffering. There was no quality of life. Kids were born into extreme poverty, and if they were unlucky, they starved to death or were drafted into the murder games. If they were lucky, they got to live a full what, 60 years maybe, working to their deaths.

Seriously, what do you expect them to do?

But ok, let's talk about Gale. Because of course this was about Gale, my favorite revolutionary boy.

Because there's this idea that Gale isn't kind. That he isn't compassionate or is heartless. And for a second, let's put aside everything he does for Katniss, her family, Peeta, and his district during the course of the series. Why do you think he's fighting, y'all?

Because he's bloodthirsty? Because he gets a kick out of killing people? For shits and giggles? No. It's because he cares. He cares very much about his world, about his district, about society, about random strangers who have been hurt by the Capitol. This is the same kid who, long before Katniss was reaped and he was whipped and his district was destroyed, was out in the woods ranting about justice and about the cruelties the Capitol was committing.

And, okay, I'm not going to sit here and pretend that hatred and revenge wasn't a factor in all of this. Or that he didn't let it get in the goal of justice. But like, this is a kid who has suffered and struggled his entire life. Whose dad was killed. Whose best friend was taken by the Capitol twice. Who was tortured for trying to feed his family. Who watched his home and his district burn to the ground. What, are we saying that we personally wouldn't be angry if even one of these things had happened to us?

Did he go too far at times? Yeah, sure. Or well, he wanted to, but let's not forget that his plan to kill everyone in the Nut was shut down by the adults in the room because they recognize that you shouldn't let angry, traumatized teenagers make that decision. (Also, side note, but pet peeve of mine: can we pls stop acting like the Nut was some residential area? The Nut was a military base. The Nut was responsible for the aerial strikes that killed thousands upon thousands of people. They had to take it down to win the war. To, ya know, stop thousands of more people being murdered. And by the time Gale went to the D2, the rebels were out of options. And yes, obviously, his suggestion to cut them completely off was callous, but it was shut down because the adults in the room knew that he was reliving the worst moment of his life "We watched children burn to death and there was nothing we could do!")

Gale was trying to end the war and free himself, his family, his country from an oppressive regime. I'm sorry that his way of fighting wasn't, like, hugging peacekeepers and trying to convert them. Because, hey, that's not how fighting oppression works. At least not when society is as far gone as Panem.

Katniss is right when she says that at some point you have to turn around and fight back. Hell, even Peeta was like "yeah no, I'll probably kill if I have to". Because, yeah, I'm sorry, but the stakes at hand were um... let's see, more children drafted into murder games. Uhhh more people dying. More horrific work conditions and atrocities. Uhhh all the characters we love dead. Because, seriously, what do we think was going to happen if they lost the war? Things were going to be better? Snow was going to pardon all of the rebels? Losing wasn't an option. So you best believe Gale was trying very hard not to lose.

Also, okay, this idea that Gale hates all capitolites? I mean, partially true. But it's not about being a Capitolite. He was perfectly fine working with Plutarch and Cressida and the capitol rebels. He didn't love the prep team (for obvious reasons. That's a whole other rant that someone can ask me to get into later) but he also tolerated them and tried to be civil because they weren't a threat (and also for Katniss). Do you know who he does hate? Those working for the oppressive regime.

It's just- someone fighting for their liberation, even if they retaliate with violence, is never on the same grounds as their oppressors. And i know that this has turned into an incohesive rant, but the reason all this discussion about Gale makes me so angry is because stuff like this happens in real life all the time.

I mean, I know it's unfair, but what I hear when people go "but Gale is so angry :/ " is people telling minorities to shut up and that their struggles aren't that bad. (Because, quick reminder that Gale is a POC). it's people going "I support BLM, but destroying property is never the answer".

Sometimes you have to fight back. Sometimes you can't afford to sit back and do nothing because going so means living in subpar conditions. And if you can afford it, if that doesn't affect you, then that's a privilege.

#pls feel free to add to my incoherent rant #gale hawthorne #thg #the hunger games

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erischaos · 4 years ago

Text

the scare

summary: you and Johnny go through a pregnancy scare.

words: +1,5k

tags: fluffy, sexual themes.

“Being a month late isn’t that big of a deal right?” you asked your friend out of the blue while playing with your cup. The coffee shop wasn’t very crowded so you felt free to talk with her about the matter. “It depends y/n” you looked at her expectantly. “It could be a lot of things like, you know, stress, changing food habits, an UTI” she made a pause and lowed her tone “…pregnancy”. It took you by surprise and you almost chocked. “Its impossible girl, forget it, its not that” you denied. All but that. You were on the pill. “I know you’re on birth control but it can fail, besides you told me you and Johnny are like a fifty percent of the time at it” you started to fidget with your hands while considering it. There isn't a big error range for the pill and you never forgot to take them but, at the same time, you thought about all those babies who were a product of that 1%. “I can’t have a child now, it can ruin Johnny’s career” you started to get nervous and your eyes started to water. You discussed the babies thing with Johnny and both agreed to wait a few more years, his idol career was just starting to take off and you got your degree only a year ago. Besides you two wanted to have the typical childless couple life; sex whenever, vacations, working without having to call a babysitter, a little bit of partying and just live life without worries. And having to hide the relationship was already stressful enough. “hey, y/n” you friend tried to caught your attention after seeing you space out, knowing you were probably thinking about all the pros and cons “its probably just a scare, don’t worry” You considered it, you had many scares but never one this long. “should I do a test?” your friend agreed with you and you both headed to the closest store to buy two or three, knowing that someone seeing you could be a risk she bought them for you and drove you home after. “I can’t stay y/n, I have work” you assured her it wasn’t a problem, said thanks, goodbye and went inside.

You couldn’t bring yourself to do them. What if it was a positive? It could change you whole life, his, the relationship, everything. The apartment was small so you probably would have to move. Was the puppy ready to have a little brother? Were his group mates ready to be uncles? Were your parents ready to have a grandchild? All those people would love if you and him had a baby, and honestly, you too. You wanted two, a boy and a girl, you want them to have Johnny’s nose and lips, you wanted to see a little John playing with your puppy, and read books to a little y/n, and when they grew up have one more. You wanted to have a big and happy family. You would love to have his kids, more than anything else but were you two ready to be parents? Suddenly you heard keys and your dog started to bark and wag his tail, so you quickly hid the bag under the couch cushions. “Hey angel” Johnny came thru the door and plopped on the couch beside you and started to kiss you. You interrupted the kissing and while petting your dog asked him why he was home that early, you were supposed to know the answer of the test before he came home “we got the choreo pretty fast so they let us go home early, the boys wanted to have dinner together but I missed you” he continued to kiss you and started to get handsy. “we haven’t had some y/n and Johnny time lately” you broke up into a nervous laugh “lately? We have been fucking all weekend horny ass, what are you talking about?” you didn’t wait for an answer and searched for his lips, hovering over him, laying on the couch. Johnny hissed when he lay his head and you looked at him confused “what's under here?” he questioned you, the moment you realized panic invaded your body and he, nonchalantly, took from under the cushion a bag with a few pink boxes. He took one and read it, and then he looked at you, waiting for your answer. You couldn’t react, there was no air inside of your lungs no more, of course if there was a baby you were going to tell him but not like this, not now, no when you didn’t even do the test.

“y/n are you pregnant?” he never called you by your first name. You couldn’t open your mouth and with you on top of him he started to sit down, which made you be face to face. “are you pregnant?” he looked impatient and grabbed your face. You took a long, deep breath “I don’t know, I haven’t done it yet” He raised his eyebrows “why not?” “I don’t want to know the answer” you started to cry and looked down “I’m not sure you’ll like it” he moved his hands from your face to your waist and hugged you “how do you know if I’m going to like it or not baby?” you tried to talk in between your sobs “because you said you didn’t wanted a kid yet” your voice was muffled by his shoulder, getting his shirt wet with your tears. He asked you why you bought on the first place and you told him you were a month late. “I’m not a gynecologist babe but there can be a lot of reasons, right?” you didn’t knew how the fuck he was so calm about it while you were a nervous wreck. “you are on the pill, you have been very nervous about your new work, you haven’t been eating well” he said while stroking your back. “why don’t we do it now so you can be sure and stop crying?” You sniffled and looked at him again “but what if its positive John, what if it ruins your career and we have to move and turn the dog into a nanny?” he giggled and wept your tears away “if it’s positive I’m going to be the happiest men in the world because it will mean I’m having a child with you dumbass, its not going to ruin anything because we don’t need to tell the world yet, we can live here for a while until we find a beautiful house to turn into our home, that I don’t know how I’m going to afford it yet but you’re going to have it, and our puppy is very smart, so I’m sure he’s going to be an awesome nanny, ok?” the dog looked at you two, licked your hand and went to sit on his bed. “babe, please, stop overthinking and let’s do it” You stood up and went to the bathroom, followed by him. He took the boxes from inside of the bag and handed them to you. “I’ll be waiting outside” he kissed your temple and closed the door. He didn’t lie, he would be extremely happy but he was nervous as fuck, he wasn’t even thirty yet, and its fun saying you want kids and fantasize about it but now that the probabilities where high, he was shitting his pants. You two worked his ass off to buy this tiny apartment and moving was going to be a financial death, he was a very well paid idol but a house is expensive for everyone. And diapers, and the baby formula, and a crib, jesus christ. His thoughts were interrupted when you opened the door with the tests in your hand. One line negative, two lines positive. This were going to be the longest five minutes in his life.

You weren’t calm either, you were shaking. You knew that looking at them wasn’t going to make them work faster but you couldn’t stop. Sooner than expected, one by one, the three test showed a single line. You weren’t pregnant. But why were you sad? This was the best outcome possible. Johnny hugged you from behind and kissed your head while smiling, but he got surprise when he heard you sob again “why again?!” he asked in distress making you laugh “I don’t know, I guess I got my hopes up” you dried you tears and you two hugged. “me too babe, but we have many years to be parents” he started to kiss you all over your face “but for now” he looked at your eyes and his were a lot darker than before “the only one we are going to traumatize fucking in the middle of the living room at six pm is our dog” he didn’t even gave you time to laugh when he pushed you up by your ass an sat you on the table, without stopping kissing you.

hello there again! the last line is sooo raunchy IM SORRY but i thought it was funny. please if you liked this scenario leave a like and comment if you want! i would love to hear some feedbacks from you guys :) im sorry im only writing for johnny but he inspires me a lot.

love u all, take care ♥

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jbbuckybarnes · 5 years ago

Text

Cute

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (2,6k words) Description: Bucky has a crush on you that he can’t seem to ignore and Alpine is causing some trouble along the way. Prompt: "Wait, did you just call me cute?" (/w Bucky) For: @coffee-with-bucky‘s challenge. Warnings: Nightmare, awkwardness, slight angst, fluff, not proofread

M A S T E R L I S T

A white furball was sitting on the coffee table in front of a big dark figure, early in the spring morning. „Meow!“ Alpine voiced her opinion. „What‘s wrong, baby girl?“ Came back from Bucky‘s voice. „Meow.“ Her left paw went forward and tried to touch him. „You want to be pet?“ „Meow.“ His hand came closer and she pressed her head against it. „Rrrmeow.“ His hands both reached to scratch behind her ears. „Yeah, you like that, needy furball.“ He chuckled. She advanced towards him, putting her paws on his chest and booping his nose with hers. „You‘re a sweet girl, aren‘t you?“ She licked the tip of his nose. His smile was so giant, it was almost scary if you‘ve never seen it before. „God, you actually look cute when your face shows emotions,“ you commented in the door frame. He chuckled and stopped shortly after, „Wait, did you just call me cute?“ „Yeah. Happens when you‘re not looking like the death himself.“ You grinned at him. His face was back at its usual asshole resting face. You sat down very close to him, seeing Alpine sit down on the other side of him. „You look good when you smile. I like that look on you.“ You smiled behind your mug. „Meow.“ „Look she agrees.“ You reached out to squish his cheeks together and make him chuckle, which you succeed in. „Stop.“ He grumbled and grabbed you. You, dodging it by throwing yourself against him. „Darling!“ he threw you a stern look and you giggled, coming back up right in front of his face, seeing a smile vanish to a slight blush on his face. „Sorry if I made you uncomfortable,“ you mumbled. „No, no. Not at all.“ He looked down at his hands. God, he had such a crush on you, but he couldn‘t and shouldn‘t. It wouldn‘t work, he couldn‘t even hold a conversation. He was glad you even felt comfortable around him. „Meow!“ Alpine pushed her head into his side very hard to make him move towards you. „Alpine, no.“ He mumbled and got a protesting meow back. She was determined. „What is she trying to tell you?“ You dipped your head to the side. „Uh, just, nothing.“ He was so weird all of a sudden. The furball licked her paw and then put it up in your direction before dipping her head to the side with a purr. „Did she just...alright, wow. Can you understand us?“ You got closer to the cat but got an almost arrogant stance back. „I ask her that all the time.“ He chuckled nervously. „Did she mean kissing?“ You were thoroughly confused by what she had just done. „Um.“ He looked away, blushing profusely. Your eyes got big, „She did.“ „I need to go.“ He mumbled, grabbed the protesting cat and booked it.

It was your free day, until it wasn‘t. The team that was out on a mission came back in a hurry. With a baby. „You two stay here, keep her safe. We need to find the organization trying to hurt her.“ „Where is her mom?“ „Gone. Just keep her safe. We need to go.“ And Steve and the others were already out of the compound again, leaving you with a baby in your arms. „Friday, put the security level up.“ „Will do.“ When you came back into the living room you saw Bucky watch his favorite show without even noticing you. Alpine made a leap off the couch to come towards you and loop through your legs. A coo made the giant man raise a brow and turn around. „What in the mother of-“ „They dropped her off and currently try to chase down the people wanting her for some reason.“ You shrugged and sat down next to him. „You‘re good with children, right? I didn‘t have much family and I honestly have no idea what to do other than holding her. Help.“ You looked into his eyes helplessly. „I haven‘t- Fine.“ He grabbed her out of your grasp. „Friday? Do we know her name?“ „Her name is Olive.“ „Hey, I‘ll call you Lilly. Alright?“ He cooed down at the little bundle and got a little coo back. The baby looked extra small in his grasp, but it also looked way more relaxed than with you. Her eyes got heavier and heavier the more he slightly moved her just right. „Yeah, you probably had an exhausting day, baby girl.“ He smiled down at her. That smile that was reserved for pets and children. That „I‘m not being judged“ smile. „I‘d never be that good with children.“ You mumbled and had him look up. „What? No, you‘re just not used to it. I think you‘d be great with children.“ „Really?“ „Yeah, you‘re good at taking care of people. Why not put that into a smaller version.“ He put down the little girl between the both of you on the couch and watched her sleep. „Do you want children?“ You asked a little shy. That was a personal question to ask such a traumatized person. „Yeah. One day.“ He smiled down at Olive and took her little hand. „I think you‘d be a great dad.“ You smiled and saw him look up and blush. „Um, thanks. Uh, do- Do you want children one day?“ He stammered. „Maybe. Only if I find the right person.“ You shrugged and looked away. „You will. I‘m sure of it,“ he answered as Olive already started to fuzz again. Watching him be so good at this kinda made you think twice if you really wanted this one day. You felt like anyone would be more qualified at it than you. „You got this, right? I- I think I need to just-“ You gestured towards the door before making your way out, leaving behind a confused Bucky looking at a baby in his arms and a cat that disapprovingly put her head back down.

He looked pretty beaten up after this particular intense mission. Two cuts in the face and a bullet wound in is side. You sat down on his bed in the med bay, „Hey.“ „Hey.“ You got a soft smile from him. „Do you need help with cleaning up those wounds?“ You asked reluctant. „I mean, they only did the bullet wound, so I‘d appreciate it.“ He chuckled a bit strained. You got everything you needed and sat down next to him again, moving his head how you needed it. He frowned for a second before his expression eased at...whatever it eased at. You didn‘t notice the stare at your lips that kept him thoroughly distracted. It would be so easy for him to just go for it right now, but he shouldn‘t. He knew he shouldn‘t. „Aaand you‘re all cleaned up again.“ You smiled at him and got a tiny „Thank you“ back. „Anything else?“ You dipped your head to the side. „What else would there be?“ He smiled. „I could get you clothes to change into, make your hair less messy, get you some food,“ you suggested. „Make my hair less messy. Please.“ He played the idiot in need, but he really just wanted to feel your hands in his hair. You sat down behind him, started detangling it and sending chills down his spine. Then you started braiding little braids into it and he was sure that this was his undoing. And as you saw his shoulders relax you gave him a little scalp massage, letting him lose all the tension he was holding. „God, I could kiss you right now. This is amazing.“ He grumbled relaxed. „Wouldn‘t hold it against you.“ You chuckled as you sat next to him again. „Is that so?“ He smirked. „Yeah, well, I‘m pretty good, aren‘t I?“ „Yeah.“ There was this softness, this fuzz in the air.

Alpine came walking towards you in the very early morning as you wanted to get yourself some warm milk with honey to fall back asleep. Nothing she usually did. Normally she was always a step behind or ahead of Bucky. You frowned and crouched down. „Is there something wrong, sweetie?“ „Meow.“ „I take that as a yes.“ „Meow.“ You made your way to his quarters in the compound and knocked at his door. When there was no answer you pushed the slightly ajar door open. „Where is he, Alpine?“ You looked down and saw her rush towards the bathroom door. She scratched the surface lightly with soft meows. She was not a trained therapy cat but she sure as hell was one hell of a buddy. The bond they both had showed especially now. „Bucky?“ You asked soft but nervous. Nothing. „Alpine got me here. What is wrong? Please open the door.“ You explained and asked. „Meow.“ Harder Scratching, paws reaching under the door. „Friday? Can you please unlock this door?“ „Protocol: MHE. Door unlocked.“ You pushed down the handle slowly, letting Alpine rush in first before you could even see anything. You only heard her purring before you saw her forcefully cuddle into a hunched figure. „Bucky…“ You came towards him, sat down in front of him. Nothing. You reached out for his flesh arm to feel him. He was a little cold for his usual supersoldier warmth. „Wait, I‘ll get you a blanket,“ you mumbled, coming back with a giant black soft throw blanket. „Bucky, please talk to me.“ He didn‘t move the head leaning on top of one of his arms. Alpine in the small room between his thighs and his chest pushed against him. She was purring and making biscuits on him as best as she could. Truly a good girl. „James, at least pet Alpine. You don‘t have to talk to me, but she‘s doing a great job.“ A shaky breath left him before his free hand reached for Alpine and carefully went through her fur. „Meow.“ She looked up at him. You just knew. She was verbally mothering him, kicking his ass. „Thank you, Al.“ A deep, nasally and rough voice came from him before his face came up a bit so she could climb higher on his chest to be scratched. „What happened?“ You asked softly again. „Bad dream. Somehow you were a person brought in to make me comply and...you were killed by a drone strike somehow. God, I have a lot of gore in my mind, but that was horrible.“ You saw tears form in his eyes again and pulled him close. „I‘m here. See? I‘m hugging you and I‘m here. You won‘t let anything bad happen to me, ever. I know that.“ You tried to soothe him. He grabbed you, squeezed your arms, your waist, your hips, touched your hair. „It looked so fucking bad. It was awful. I can‘t get the picture out of my head.“ He dug his face into the crook of your neck. „Think about your favorite moment with me then. Or that mission where I accidentally shot Steve in his arm. Or when Alpine tried to tell you to kiss me.“ You chuckled. His hands wandered up and down your body, relaxing both of you. „You know, I really kinda want it. To kiss you, I mean.“ He stumbled over his words. „What‘s holding you back?“ You whispered. „My brain.“ His head came up and looked at you. You could see the troubled mind in his eyes. „Then what‘s your heart saying?“ You asked pointing at it. His face turned soft, „That you‘re cute.“

You went through his hair carefully, still a little concerned about him. „I know, I should cut it off,“ he mumbled. „Huh? No, you don‘t need to. I like you with any type of hairstyle.“ You offered him a soft smile. „I want it short again. I don‘t wanna look like him anymore. Not after that dream.“ He shuddered at the mention. „Now?“ You asked still going through it and saw him nod. „Do you trust me?“ „I do.“ You got up, grabbed scissors and an electric razor from all over his bathroom, before taking his blanket away from him under protest of both him and his cat. The cat proceeded to lay down in the warm blanket pile shortly after. You put his hair in three tails, cut them off while being watched carefully. His shoulders relaxed when that step was finished. You proceeded to get all of his top hair up into a tail, helping with various products in spray bottles, cause you were definitely not used to doing this anymore. Alpine jumped a little when the razor turned on, but when she saw Bucky visibly relax even more she rolled back into a furball on the blanket pile. You shaved down his sides and back a decent amount. Not too much. You didn‘t want to make this look military style. Then you continued with the top of his head. You didn‘t know which length would be ideal. Maybe not too short, but too long also looked off with his fluffy hair. You still wanted to indulge in playing with it though. Maybe about 3-4 cm / 1-2 inches long. It took a while for you to figure out the way you needed to go about cutting it but you were finished with it in no time. With soft brushes over his hair you got rid of any hair that didn‘t belong there anymore before making him stand up. „WOAH.“ His eyes got wide as he went through his hair, looking at your quality work. „You like it?“ „I love it.“ He looked at you in the mirror, seeing a loving shimmer in your eyes. Maybe he DID deserve you. „We should go to bed. I only slept like 3 hours because of that,“ he mumbled and you nodded as you put out the bathroom light and closed the door behind Alpine. You padded after him, making him do a full stop and turn around a little confused. „What?“ You asked rubbing your eyes and he really couldn‘t say no. So he did the next best thing coming to his mind, grabbed around your waist and let himself fall into his bed. „Idiot.“ You giggled into his chest and climbed up a bit a few seconds later. „Hey.“ He smiled up at you as you grabbed into his hair. „Hey handsome.“ You smirked all tired before cuddling yourself against him and planting your face in his neckline. Yeah, maybe he did deserve you.

In your routine of being half awake and grumpy you turned around to hit something unusual with your arm. „Ouch.“ You heard next to you pretty monotone, then holding back laughter. „Sorry, B.“ You pushed yourself into his grasp to fall back asleep. „Darling, it‘s noon.“ You pried one of your eyes open to look at him judgingly. „C‘mere,“ he cooed as he pulled you extra close. „Didn‘t know you could show that emotion.“ You giggled as you gave him a little kiss on his cheek. „Oh, believe me. There are a lot of emotions that are a you-only thing.“ He grinned at you and felt your hand pat up the side of his face to find the proper position. „Show me another.“ You smiled up at him all sleepy. This was a now or in three uncomfortable weeks kinda situation. You were just enough in sleep mode for him to feel less awkward about making a move on you. So he reached for your face and finally went for that damn kiss that‘s been the topic of his life for weeks. Your hand went through his new short hair with a hum, pushing him down for more. Yes, definitely the right decision.

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alexandrablake · 4 years ago

Text

long story short (it was a bad time)

Prompt: 31. “I never would’ve thought that (he/she/they)’d get with someone else.” from this prompt list! Pairing: no current ones, but there are serious mentions of former!hotchniss Word Count: 4,410 (?????) Warnings: it’s angsty, and there’s some mentions of alcohol. there’s also mentions of the mr. scratch events A/n: no, we are not going to talk about how late this is. nope. (i’m so sorry. catching up now, hopefully!) wrote this, realized that it’s very akin to seattle by @hurricanejjareau, which if you haven’t read, do it!

Des Moines, Iowa- October, 2017

Shutting his phone with far more force than necessary, he stared down at the small object. He flipped it in his palm and scowled at it with dismay. It was a chance of a lifetime, and it was all he had thought about for the past three years. There wasn’t a world in which he would refuse the offer, yet, for just the slightest of moments, he hesitated. But just as quickly as it came, it left, and he made his decision.

Aaron Hotchner was returning to the BAU.

The death of a valued team member left a door open, and Hotch already had a foot in. Cruz called him and offered him a deal he knew the former agent wouldn’t refuse. All the pieces were falling into place, all the stars were aligning, all the signs were being shown. There was no way he’d be able to refute everything the world was telling him. And he definitely didn’t try very hard.

Cruz said that Mr. Scratch had been terrorising the team practically since he left. Someone that cunning was not able to let go of something they felt so interesting. He had placed Reid, an agent who had already seen far too much for his short life, in a maximum security prison, framing him and terrorising him with memories that were just out of his reach.

Hotch was told about what happened in the car, how they were ambushed, how Prentiss was abducted, and how SSA Walker was killed. He was told how traumatized the team was. But he was also told how much relief finally catching Lewis gave them. For the first time in a very long time, the team felt somewhat safe

And the spot left open by the death of Stephen Walker- Cruz knew that Hotch was itching to come back. Hotch may have only worked under him for two years, but they knew each other very well. Cruz knew how much being away from this job, this team, this life had been destroying Aaron, even if he wasn’t told so.

“Hey, buddy.” It was an old habit of his, crouching down to talk to his son and calling him ‘buddy.’ Jack had probably come to associate the pet name with bad news, because the only time his father ever called him that was when he had difficult facts to present. Jack wasn’t a little kid anymore; he was twelve, and he was far too smart to not see that his dad was undergoing some turmoil.

But the good thing with Jack was that he was also smart enough to act like nothing was wrong, to just go with the flow. He had gone through a lot of changes in his life, and would definitely be going through more in the future, but he was used to it by now and was okay to move with his dad at a moment’s notice.

“What’s up, Dad?” he asked, looking up from a math book with attentive eyes.

Hotch stood up and moved into the seat across the table from him. He spoke very slowly, “How would you feel about moving back to Virginia?”

“That’d be cool!” he enthused, nodding his head but his eyebrows were knit with confusion. “Why? Are you going back to the FBI?”

Hotch pursed his lips in thought. His fingers drummed subconsciously on the wood top. “I… think so, yeah. But-” he interrupted himself, holding his hand in the air, “only if you are okay with it. I don’t want to cause you anymore pain by moving you. Again.”

The younger Hotchner shook his now long hair clad head. “I miss Virginia! And we can visit Mom without having to fly!”

“Yeah,” came Hotch’s much quieter, less enthusiastic reply. “We can visit Mom.”

Jack turned back to his algebra with a smile on his face and a bouncing knee, his mouth moving rapidly to describe to his silent father how excited he was to go back and see his friends, and see Uncle Dave, and go back to that school, and have Dad catch the bad guys, and see Aunt Jess.

Hotch was just quiet, basking silently in his son’s excitement. He only hoped that the team, but one specific person, really, would be so excited for the return of Agent Hotchner.

Quantico, Virginia- the same day

Prentiss was silent, and it wasn’t lost on her coworkers. They had taken to routinely dropping by her door, asking her if she wanted anything, and always hearing a false cheery no. Additionally, it wasn’t lost on her that they were grouping in the bullpen, shooting furtive looks her way, talking in hushed voices, and jolting back to their files whenever she looked down at them.

The call from Cruz had just come in about a new team member.

To say that she and Hotch had a… complicated history would be a serious understatement. Years ago, Emily wanted to leave. She wanted to get out of this job and this life because she couldn’t see herself getting back into what used to be. The failure with her house really just cemented that for her.

Hotch changed that.

The “date” they had arranged had actually turned into a date. It was easy to think back with a fond smile at the memory of Hotch with a cream mustache, clueless and smiling for once in his life. She had sat in that chair at the coffee shop and thought, ‘why would I ever want to leave this?’

After that, it was easy for her buried feelings to surface in an explosion of . It was easy for her to sit on his sofa and fall in love with him as he cared for his child with a gentleness she had never seen anywhere else. And she’d like to think the same went for him.

The HR battles about their relationship were difficult, but in Aaron’s words as they sat outside of the office waiting for a final verdict, “it was nothing we can’t handle. I love you, and there’s no way that Strauss- or anyone for that matter- will be able to take that away from us.”

And it was easy to believe that, too. Three years they loved each other, days spent fighting the horrors of the world, nights spent comforting each other and falling deeper into the trance that was the other.

Emily being herself, she’d known it was too good to be true. There was always a tiny voice in the back of her head whispering, “You don’t deserve him. He’s just going to leave you. This isn’t real.”

She should have listened.

Mr. Scratch changed that. In the moments after Hotch was rescued from Lewis, she’d known it was over. The blank look he shot her, the way his hands shook, the flinch away from her when she laid a caring hand on his back. Just everything.

And she was right. Hotch, a spot of darkness on the otherwise pristine and bright hospital bed, was the last she’d seen him. He checked himself out, picked Jack up from Jess’ house, packed a bag, and left.

The only note he left wasn’t to her or even Rossi. No. It was to Garcia, a warning to not go looking for him- that he knew how to disappear from even her, but that would only make it harder on Jack. It was a plea to let him leave his life behind, the very thing he had convinced Prentiss to not do three years prior.

Emily dragged herself from her thoughts by staring at the framed photos she kept on her desk. Herself, Penelope, and JJ smiling at a bar after a solved case. Reid’s arms looped around her and a carefree smile on his face for once. Rossi kissing her cheek. Layton and her, locking lips under a sprig of mistletoe held out by Alvez.

And a photo of Hotch reaching his hand out towards her, an expression of love on his face.

It wasn’t good for her healing process, she’d been told that enough times in the bureau-mandated therapy sessions, to act like Hotch and their relationship never existed. So, she kept a singular photo up, a small reminder to the happiest she’d ever been.

Quantico, Virginia- November, 2017

Feelings of nostalgia rushed through him as he stepped out of the cold into the building, just as a tidal wave of hesitation crashed into him. Was this the right thing to do?

He could have stood in the doorway forever, but a call from a security member stirred him from his stupor. Too late to go back now. He could only hope that arriving a week before they expected him would catch them off-guard, enough to let him talk before completely shutting him down.

Cruz met him in the lobby with a welcoming smile. “Hey, Hotch.” He reached out for a hug, which he stiffly received. Mateo had always been a hugger, and three years away hadn’t changed that.

They pulled apart, and Hotch looked towards the elevator apprehensively. “They’re here?” he asked, turning back to Cruz, who nodded.

“Prentiss has only told some of them. We weren’t expecting you for another week, and she figured that it’d be best to wait until Monday to tell them.”

Hotch’s heart leapt into his throat at the mention of Emily, and his voice quivered a bit as he asked, “So, who knows?”

“Rossi. Garcia, who, as you know, will find anything out. JJ and Luke, I believe. Luke Alvez,” he clarified at Hotch’s cocked eyebrow. “He came in last year from the Fugitive Task Force after Agent Morgan resigned.”

Hotch almost choked on the coffee he had lifted to his mouth to drink. “When did Morgan leave?”

Cruz ushered him towards the elevators and pushed the button while explaining simply, “You’ve missed a lot, Aaron.”

It was salt in an already burning wound

“There’s also a new doctor in town, a Dr. Tara Lewis. She joined when Agent Callahan left. I think you’ll like her.” Cruz paused as they entered, thinking about the team. “Oh! And Matt Simmons.”

“From IRT?”

“Mhm. They disbanded, and he’s with us now. I think that’s it.”

Aaron was quiet, the news of how the team had changed settling on him. He fidgeted his feet and turned towards Cruz. “You aren’t a profiler, but give me your best thoughts. How does it look for my reception?”

The section chief was silent, turning away from him and towards the closed doors. He stared at the rising numbers and said, “Not good.”

A sharp “ding” sounded as the elevator stopped and the doors slid open. Hotch was very proud to say he only hesitated slightly in stepping out the silver doors and towards the glass walls of the bullpen.

He stopped at the door, where Cruz waved him goodbye, to stare at the team at their desks. JJ was perched on Reid’s desk, and a man he didn’t recognize was spinning in his chair while Spencer watched with a thinly veiled smile. A pretty black woman was pouring over a file splayed on the desk of Matt Simmons.

“Hotch?” a chirpy voice from behind him asked.

At the sound of his name, Aaron spun on his heel, suit jacket flying, and met the watering eyes of Penelope Garcia. She looked the same, but her smile lines were etched a little deeper. Her hand moved to cover them as she took in Hotch standing in front of her, shocked.

“I-I didn’t think you were going to be here for another week! You should have warned me!” she rushed towards him with outstretched arms, dropping the papers she had been carrying. “I wanted to make you a cake! And get Jack a present!”

She pulled away, placing her hands on both sides of his face and scanned his eyes. Bewildered, he looked back at her. A man slid past them into the office, balancing three cups of coffee in his hands.

“Just making sure you are real,” she said and stepped back onto the array of papers scattered across the glossy floor.

“Hi, Garcia,” he laughed, breathily, finally able to get a word in from her rambling.

“Hi!”

The time didn’t seem to diminish their relationship, but intuition told him that he wouldn’t be this well received by everyone else. You don’t just drop off the face of the planet and expect everything to be okay when you come back. It didn’t work for Prentiss, and Prentiss had a reason. What reason was he going to give?

“Come on, come on!” Penelope urged, pushing on his back, forgetting the papers she dropped. “The team is going to be so surprised! They don’t even know you’re the new team member!”

Weaving their fingers together, she tugged him through the glass doors, waving her other arm to get the attention of the others. Emily and Rossi had come down from their offices at this point, Prentiss taking a coffee from the man and planting a kiss on his cheek. Rossi made a show of doing the same, but still accepted his drink with a grateful smile.

Hotch would have frozen in his place, but the enigma that was Penelope continued to pull him towards the others. All the returning profiler could do was stare at the pair and their clasped hands.

Eight pairs of eyes turned to them as Garcia called, “Guys! Look who it is!”

Hotch didn’t have a lot of expectations for his reception, but a complete stillness somehow fell short of all of them. Penelope was similarly disappointed by the reaction and dragged him closer to the desks.

“Oh, come on,” she sighed as they made it to stand in front of them. She placed her hands on her hips and surveyed them with the air of a mother telling her children to hug an aunt they didn’t like. “It’s Hotch, people!”

With a wide grin and a teasing look to Garcia, the man Hotch didn’t recognize came over to them first, offering a hand out. Hotch tried to focus on him and not the open-mouthed faces of his former friends. Better to ignore it than confront it.

“Luke Alvez,” the man introduced brightly.

Hotch nodded in understanding. “You came from the Marshals?” At the nod he received, he forced a smile. “How’d we pin you down to the BAU?”

Luke gave a good-natured shrug. “Don’t ask me,” he laughed.

A slender hand was presented to him next. “Tara Lewis.”

“Doctor,” Hotch nodded and chuckled slightly at the shocked look she gave him. “Cruz told me.”

Matt was next to greet him, waving from his spot at his desk. “Hey, Aaron.”

“Matt. How are the kids?”

“More of a handful everyday,” Simmons smiled lightly. “How is yours?”

Hotch shrugged. “He’s old.” “Right? Where did the years go?”

As the conversation fizzled out, a feeling of stiffness floated into the room. Hotch could have cut the tension with a knife, and he was forced to look at the faces of the people he had been purposely looking away from.

Reid was far less clean cut than he had been when Aaron left. His face was no longer clean shaven, and he had grown his hair out. Somehow, his eyes expressed even more pain and exhaustion than three years prior. All those years ago, Hotch would have been able to read his emotions to a tee but with the new appearance and experiences, Reid’s thoughts were completely lost on Hotch.

JJ and Rossi were sporting similar smiles. JJ’s was melancholic, reflecting the history they used to have, and Rossi’s was understanding, somehow expressing that he understood Hotch’s need to leave. But JJ’s arms were crossed and her expression was guarded- she didn’t trust him anymore.

None of them did.

Prentiss’ face was wiped of emotion. Her grip on the man next to her had tightened, knuckles whitened. A stark contrast to Garcia, Emily’s frown lines had been etched deeper into her face and smile lines faded. Her eyes held none of the love that Hotch used to mirror, none of the joy that used to spark happiness in himself.

The man she was clutching onto didn’t seem to notice the tension that had filled the air, and offered a cheery smile to Hotch as he held out his hand. “Layton Gregory, Counter-intelligence.”

“Hello.” It was a stiff greeting but it was all that Hotch could spit out as he stared at his and Emily’s intertwined hands.

Gregory didn’t seem to care. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All good things?”

“Nothing too bad,” the other man shrugged, and looked towards Emily with a frown. He didn’t seem to know that there was history, which Hotch took a mental note of. “Bye, babe. I’ve got to go, I just figured you’d want your afternoon coffee. Glad I could meet you,” he nodded to Aaron.

Pressing his lips onto Emily’s forehead, Layton waved to the team and Hotch, who, bar the returning member, waved back.

Rossi raised his cup at the agent’s retreating back. “I owe you the next one!”

Layton waved it off over his shoulder, and the door shut behind him softly. The attention was directed back to Hotch. Curious eyes took in his appearance, but spiteful ones turned away and back to their work.

Alvez handed a stack of manila files to Hotch, but stepped closer to whisper, “Prentiss isn’t too happy. I don’t know if there’s history here, but I think it’d be best to just let her simmer right now.” He stepped away and at regular volume told him, “Just a bunch of consulting right now. With you here, it should take less time- hopefully, at least.”

Hotch nodded, smiling grimly at the advice, and took the folders. He turned towards his former flame, willing explanations to give her into existence. Unsurprisingly, none came.

Giving him a quick up-and-down glance, Emily turned away from him without a word. If Hotch was paying attention-- which he was-- he would have seen her turn back and swipe quickly at her cheeks before turning back around. The door that shut behind her wasn’t as quiet as her boyfriend’s.

JJ slowly drew her eyesight from Emily’s shut door back to Hotch. “It’s nice to have you back, Hotch.” Her voice didn’t exactly convey the same message, but she did reach out and rub his arm gently. “Emily’s had a tough time since you left. It wasn’t… easy for her, to say the least.”

“It wasn’t easy for me, either,” came Hotch’s weak explanation.

“Yeah, you don’t get that option!” she snapped, anger she had been harboring since he left rising to the surface. “You left, not us! If it was hard,” she did air quotes with her fingers, “you shouldn’t have done it! Why did you leave?”

He couldn’t answer her.

“Yeah.” JJ turned away and back to the paper she had crushed. She sounded vindictive, for what, Hotch was unaware. He assumed she was probably angry for the pain he had caused her and Emily and the team as a whole.

“Hey, Reid,” Hotch greeted softly as he crossed to the other side of the room, standing next to Rossi, who placed a kind hand across his shoulders.

The young man didn’t verbally acknowledge him, rather he just nodded. His eyes never shifted from the report in front of him. That was the best Hotch was going to get and he knew it.

Rossi moved him towards the stairs, mentioning something about a drink to catch up. His words were barely heard over the rush of blood in Hotch’s head. He could barely believe that these were the same people he had worked with for so many years. They just seemed like… shells of their former selves- placeholders put here to replace them.

As they passed the windows to the office of the Unit Chief, Hotch couldn’t help but glance in on his former safe haven. Emily was stooped over her desk, rapping a framed photo with one of her knuckles, words he couldn’t hear spilling from her mouth.

He’d forgotten how beautiful she was. Of course, he took pictures and vivid memories of her filled his head at all times, but nothing compared to her in person. Raven hair fell into her face and she pushed it behind her ear with a delicate finger, only for it to fall back. Hotch remembered countless times where he had done the same thing for her, brushing a gentle hand against her face to push her hair back.

But that was gone now, and there was no way that he would be given that opportunity again.

Rossi set a bottle of sloshing liquid on his desk between them and slid a glass to him. “Drink. You’ll need it.”

“It’s,” he glanced at his watch, “only three.”

He was answered with a cocked eyebrow. “Are you really trying to tell me that you don’t want some?”

His glass was filled, but it remained untouched on the desk.

“How are you?” Rossi asked, leaning back into his chair.

Hotch straightened his back. “I’m okay. I didn’t think I’d ever actually see this place again.”

“I didn’t think I’d see you.”

“Touché.”

The room hadn’t changed much in the years since Hotch had seen it. It still reeked of Rossi, but it was just a little more hectic than it used to be. Papers were crammed into the bookshelves, no clear organization. The tv and game console set were new, something Hotch recognized from an ad Jack had shown him in an attempt for a birthday present.

Rossi hesitated before asking his question, the bond of complete transparency diminished in the years. “Do you… can you talk about it?”

There wasn’t an immediate response. The drink was swirled in the glass, but Hotch still didn’t take a drink.

“I had to leave. Uh, after Scratch got me, he put me under those drugs. I guess he was trying to see what I would do, I don’t know. Everything I’ve ever loved was ripped away from me in these… visions, I guess they could be called. You guys, Jack, Emily.” He pursed his lips. “I had to leave. I couldn’t let that happen.”

Rossi rested his chin on his outstretched index fingers. “Emily.”

“Emily.”

They sat in companionable silence, although they could barely be considered that anymore. Rossi nursed his drink, and Hotch did not, electing to stare out the window into the bullpen and watch the team work.

“What happened?” he asked.

Rossi shook his head. “What didn’t happen is the better question. They’ve gone through a lot in the past few years, and so have you. It’s just going to be like walking on eggshells for a while. You’ll never know when any of them reach their breaking point.”

Prentiss had left the recluse of her office and returned to the bullpen. She and Tara were talking over a case file Tara had splayed in her hands. Aaron couldn’t tear his eyes off of her.

“Aaron?”

“I never would have thought she’d get with someone else,” he answered softly to a question that was never asked. He still didn’t look away.

“Okay.” The sharpness of Dave’s voice shocked Hotch enough to make him turn back. “Do you really think you are the end all, be all? What, did you think everything would stay the same for three years? You left, Aaron! She moved on! We all did! We didn’t know if you were ever going to return so we had to live as such!”

It was quiet enough in the office after Rossi’s outburst that Hotch could hear his own blinking. “I know.”

“Then act like it!” JJ clearly wasn’t the only one with pent up anger, but Rossi’s was a softer anger. There was no malice behind his words. “I understand why you left, we all have that moment where every fiber of our being is telling us to leave, to pack up and change our name and move to Buenos Aires.”

Hotch squinted at the ranting man. “The Buenos Aires part might just be you, Dave.”

“Maybe so. The thing is, Hotch, that Emily could barely stand when you disappeared. She was so weak with stress that her body literally shut down for a little bit. And we couldn’t help her. She was destroyed when you left.”

There weren’t enough words to describe the pain that Hotch felt at Rossi’s story. The thought of his Emily-- no, she wasn’t his anymore, he made sure of that-- suffering that much because of something he did was unbearable.

“But Emily is a fighter. She got better, she moved on. She took over as Unit Chief, she moved into that office, and she took charge, almost like she was made for it. Do you want to know how long it took Garcia to convince her to go out to a club?”

Hotch shook his head.

“I don’t know because it still hasn’t happened. That fun Emily we all knew died when you left. She doesn’t go out to party or club like she used to. All she does is work, eat, and maybe sleep.” Rossi shot a look out the window. “I mean, for God’s sake, she’s dating someone from work, she didn’t even go out and meet a normal person!”

“What can I do?” Hotch’s voice was rough.

A shrug was his reply. “I don’t know. We’re all a little like that. She just took it the hardest because she loved you the most. If you had popped the question, she would have married you back then. Can you imagine that? Emily Prentiss, married?”

A million tiny images of what life could have been flew through Hotch’s mind of Emily in a flowing white dress walking towards him. He could imagine that, very easily.

The class clanged as Rossi set it down. “I think you just have to remember that we aren’t the same people anymore. That’s,” he pointed out the window, “not the same Emily. And I don’t think you’ll be getting that one back. I never could.”

Hotch sunk deeper into his chair and followed Rossi’s finger to below them. Prentiss was smiling, but it wasn’t at him like it used to be. And he didn’t think it would be for a very long time.

#bet you weren't expecting me #i'm like that michael it's britney bitch scene except i just never come back #yes the title is a tswift song what about it?#also please don't let this flop cause i'm actually kinda proud of this one?#eva's 25 days of christmas #advent calendar of fics (ACoF)#hotchniss fic #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #david rossi #angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #eva writes occasionally

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phantoms-lair · 4 years ago

Text

FFBT - Sister Act

Commission for @bruce-bannerd

“Yeah Mom, sounds good. Next week, 2:00.” Shaggy hung up the phone. He was fine. Everything was fine.

He was already going fuzzy, wasn’t he? This did not bode well.

“Like Scooby, call the gang! It’s an emergency!”

Though he was more comfortable with himself than he had been not too long ago, it was rare to see Shaggy in full wolf mode outside the full Moon. But there he was, curled up against Velma, fretting.

“Okay Shag, we all want to help, but we need to know what’s wrong.” Fred said gently, holding Shaggy’s paw-like hand.

It took the werewolf a few tries to get the words out. “So, like, apparently last week they found black mold at Sugies school after a lot of the kids got sick.” Really badly sick. “Mom, like, didn’t want to worry me until she got Sugie’s medical results back. She’s gonna be fine.”

“Oh thank goodness.” Daphne breathed a sigh of relief. His baby sister getting seriously ill while he couldn’t even be there for her would have wrecked him badly.

“Yeah.” Shaggy squeezed Fred’s hand and curled deeper into Velma. “So they, like closed the school building and they’re going to do the rest of the year online. But that doesn’t affect the campus Mom works at, so she’s can’t be home with Sugie and doesn’t want to leave her home alone all day, and Dad’s still on deployment so-”

“Rugie’s romming rere.” Scooby finished.

“And I don’t know how to hide this,” he gestured to himself.

“I don’t think you can.” Fred pointed out. “You’re too worried about her.”

Shaggy sighed. “But what if she’s scared of me?”

Daphne laughed softly. “Shaggy, not one person who’s seen you like this has been scared of you.” Scared for him maybe, but never of him. “I don’t think Sugie’s going to break the trend.”

In retrospect, Velma was glad she hadn’t burned that hoodie. She had been tempted, sure, it was a symbol to her of the self-loathing Shaggy had felt. Now it may have been unseasonably warm, but was good for hiding if Shaggy suddenly sprouted fur or pointed ears. Which normally wasn’t a problem, but he was so worried it might be there was a risk of self fulfilling prophecy.

“Shaggy!” A blue bundle of energy hopped off the train and wrapped her arms around her brother.

He hugged her back and felt something in the wolf leap for joy. He was almost tempted to grow a tail just so he could wag it. A piece of his family was with him again! “Missed you, Sugs.”

“Missed you too, bro.”

Velma picked up the suitcase where Sugie had dropped it, grinning at how happy Shaggy was. “We’re going to pick up lunch on the way home. Any place you’d like to go Sugie?”

“Mellow Mushroom! I wanna get a multi-mushroom pizza and the mushroom soup!”

“Craving mushrooms?” Daphne asked, hiding a giggle.

“I shall eat fungus as an act of revenge.” Sugie said with the solemness only a twelve year old could muster.

Shaggy thought a moment. “Grilled Portobellos for dinner?”

Sugie squeezed him again. “And this is why I love you bro, you get me.”

They sat curled up in the living room, food half consumed, when Velma started giving Shaggy a meaningful look he couldn't avoid. He wanted to argue that it could wait until after lunch, but knew that he’d just keep avoiding it if given half the chance. He sighed and put down his pizza slice. “Sugie, there’s something we need to talk about. Some stuff has, like, changed since you and Mom left.”

“If you’re telling me you got a girlfriend, I don’t believe you.” Sugie said, attention still on her pizza.

Shaggy rolled his eyes. Yes, but that wasn’t the point. Okay, like a band aid. “Sugie I’m a werewolf.”

This at least got her to pause in her pizza eating. “Seriously?” she said in a tone that bespoke more ‘So you you really expect me to believe that’ rather than ‘You're really a werewolf’.

“It’s been an interesting past few months.” Fred allowed.

“Uh-huh.” Sugie’s attention was back on the pizza, clearly not believing a word of this.

Velma sighed. “Sugie look at your brother.”

She did and dropped her slice of pizza, which was snatched by Scooby before it hit the ground. “Shaggy, you...you-”

Shaggy ducked in on himself, more self-conscious about going full werewolf than he’d been in months.

“That is SO AWESOME!” Sugie was practically bouncing in her seat. “Oh man, can I touch your ears.” She reached her hand forward only to have it stopped by Daphne.

“You’ve been eating pizza. Wash your hands first.” She chided.

“Wash my hands?” Sugie asked in disbelief. “My brother is a werewolf and you want me to worry about washing my hands?”

“Would you want someone running greasy fingers through your hair?” Daphne shot back.

Sugie looked at her mulishly, but got up to head to the bathroom.

“Like was that really necessary Daph?” Shaggy asked. “Have you ever tried to wash grease out of hair? Yes.” Daphne said vehemently.

“I’m really sorry that trap backfired.” Fred apologized.

“It was an accident.” Daphne kissed him.

“Okay, hands clean, it is petting time!” Sugie declared. She didn’t even bother getting back on the couch, just came up behind it and started scratching behind Shaggy’s ears like she’d done with Scooby all her life. He leaned into the touch, clearly treasuring the contact.

“This is so cool.” Sugie whispered.

“You don’t think it’s, like, weird?” Shaggy asked.

“Oh it’s weird, but in the best way.” Sugie was still grinning. “What did Mom and Dad say?”

It was the wrong thing to say as she felt her brother tense under her fingers, the thumping of the tail against the back of the couch stopping. “Bro?”

“You can’t tell them.” he begged, “Promise me Sug.”

“It’s a conversation best had in person.” Velma explained. “Having your family upset at you is painful for werewolves, so we want to do it when we’re here to soften the potential blow.” Yes it was glossing over the more serious aspects of what could happen, but the fact that rejection could equal death for her brother was a heavy thing for a preteen, especially one who’d just gone through something as traumatic as what had happened with the mold.

“Hmph. Well, I guess that means I gotta be the problem child if you’re stuck being the good one. Way to be a teenage werewolf and have it be boring.” Her words were in a mischievous tone, but followed with a hug. “I won’t tell Shaggy. Promise.” And she meant it.

“Told you it would be fine.” Velma said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Sugie straightened up. “Wait...wait...what was that?”

“A kiss,” said Velma with a smirk. “You know, something girlfriends do to their boyfriends and vice versa.”

“Oh no. No no no. The werewolf deal is one thing but a girlfriend? How? And Velma? She’s smart?” Sugie sounded super offended.

Everyone laughed, even Shaggy. The fact that Sugie was far more upset over him having a girlfriend over being a werewolf was unexpected, but welcome nonetheless.

Everything was going to be okay.

#BruceBannerd #Fangs For Being There #Scooby Doo #Werewolf!Shaggy #Commission #Ghost Writing

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halothenthehorns · 3 years ago

Text

TLTNL- A SLUGGISH MEMORY

Lily excused herself to make sure their infant was put down for the night, almost regretting he hadn't been down here today. Though it seemed impossible Harry would ever go a full year without something traumatizing them all, she almost wished his presence had been here more just to shed some light on all the dark moods. She decided she'd certainly make sure he was tomorrow, hopefully this pattern would continue the worst to go on in Harry's life for now was just learning of more of Voldemort's past, certainly they could handle themselves around that.

James began with his usual amounts of gusto, refusing to let his voice drag from exhaustion in hearing all the ways Harry's life continued to somehow find new ways of agitating them every day.

Late in the afternoon, a few days after New Year, Harry, Ron, and Ginny lined up beside the kitchen fire to return to Hogwarts. The Ministry had arranged this one-off connection to the Floo Network to return students quickly and safely to the school. Only Mrs. Weasley was there to say good-bye, as Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, Bill, and Fleur were all at work. Mrs. Weasley dissolved into tears at the moment of parting. Admittedly, it took very little to set her off lately; she had been crying on and off ever since Percy had stormed from the house on Christmas Day with his glasses splattered with mashed parsnip (for which Fred, George, and Ginny all claimed credit).

Lily groaned softly for that poor mother, was it really so impossible to wish for one good thing in this family somehow reconnecting again? She didn't want to hear it that Percy never came back into his family's folds, that would just be one more thing she'd be fighting back sorrow for.

The Marauders at least got a bit more of a laugh out of that, all knowing without having to even look at each other they'd proclaim the same, though Sirius and James got a mutter in about Remus being an old man in these by not doing being mentioned doing so.

Ginny patted her on the back, encouraging her not to worry as she sobbed into her daughters shoulder.

Ron agreed it wasn't even really a loss, Percy was such a prat.

Lily scowled intensely, wanting to whack Ron upside the head for such a careless comment to that mother who was grieving.

Mrs. Weasley sobbed harder than ever as she enfolded Harry in her arms.

She demanded Harry promise he stay out of trouble, and Harry agreed he always did, he liked a quiet life.

"Like and get are two different things," James rolled his eyes, lips twitching for a smile nonetheless at the joke.

She gave a watery chuckle and stood back.

"See there, even she got something out of that one!" Sirius praised.

"Ron should take lessons," Lily huffed.

Harry stepped into the emerald fire and shouted Hogwarts! He had one last fleeting view of the Weasleys' kitchen and Mrs. Weasley's tearful face before the flames engulfed him; spinning very fast, he caught blurred glimpses of other Wizarding rooms, which were whipped out of sight before he could get a proper look; then he was slowing down, finally stopping squarely in the fireplace in Professor McGonagall's office. She barely glanced up from her work as he clambered out over the grate.

She granted him a good evening and asked he not get ash on her carpet.

"You know she just loves banishing all that every five minutes," Remus chuckled.

Harry straightened his glasses and flattened his hair as Ron came spinning into view. When Ginny had arrived, all three of them trooped out of McGonagall's office and off toward Gryffindor Tower. Harry glanced out of the corridor windows as they passed; the sun was already sinking over grounds carpeted in deeper snow than had lain over the Burrow garden. In the distance, he could see Hagrid feeding Buckbeak in front of his cabin.

Ron gave the expected password from when they'd left, and the Fat Lady denied him, there was a new password.

"You'd think McGonagall would have mentioned that, having been right in her office!" Harry said affronted.

"Must have been really invested in those papers of hers to not think of it," James agreed. "Even she can get distracted sometimes."

They began to protest they wouldn't know that, just as Hermione arrived. Greeting Harry and Ginny with cheer. Ron tried to greet her as well, starting to mention Rufus Srcim-

Hermione completely ignored him as if he weren't there, telling Harry she had something for him.

"Oh joy, I've missed this," Lily sighed, wishing even more now Hermione would at least acknowledge Ron with some frosty response. It would be at least an attempt like he was trying, no one wanted a return of the awkward silence.

Harry took it and found another note from Dumbledore, their meeting tomorrow at eight. He asked her to come sit down with him so he could tell her everything, but at that moment Lavender came bolting in squealing for Won-Won!

All of the boys whose wife wasn't present conjured the same look as they mouthed the words Won-Won, while James turned to Lily and demanded, "why haven't I ever gotten such a lovely pet name from you!"

"Please don't tempt her Prongs," Sirius muttered in genuine fear.

"Oh, well excuse me I'm not as enthusiastic, Jamie," Lily huffed.

James looked appropriately terrified she'd taken the bait, and quickly stammered out, "ah, now Lily Flower, you know I really don't go by-"

She shot him a look, one he quickly knew to get off this topic before that became a more permanent and unpleasant fixture.

Hermione ignored this and invited Ginny to come sit with them, but she said she had to go meet Dean, Harry noticing she didn't sound very enthusiastic about it.

"Sure that's not just your imagination running a bit?" Remus chuckled. Harry tactfully denied answering by blushing and ignoring him.

Leaving Ron and Lavender locked in a kind of vertical wrestling, match, Harry led Hermione over to the spare table, asking about her Christmas.

She carelessly called it fine, nothing special.

Harry couldn't help a sad little feeling lingering in him, as if wishing to caution Hermione she should make the most of her time with her parents while she could. It was a stupid worry he was sure, something ingrained in him every moment he was here and he'd simply wish others would appreciate more.

Then she returned how was it at Won-Won's?

The same three boys couldn't help a mild laugh for Hermione, though James knew better to indulge in the same with his wife still eyeing him.

Harry deflected by asking couldn't Hermione just-

She said back flatly no she could not, and not to ask again.

"Urgh, those two are going to drive me nuts I swear it," Sirius sighed. "Honestly Harry, I don't know how you manage them," he was entirely grateful he'd never really had to deal with any of his friends so frequently arguing with each other.

He acquitted and told her about Snape and Malfoy then, and she began as expected didn't he think-

Harry interrupted for her yes he'd thought of the fact Snape could have been pretending to trick Malfoy.

Hermione finished with a lame yes, that's what she'd meant.

"No! Harry!" James pouted at once.

Before Harry's confused expression could even fully form, Sirius explained, "he wanted Hermione to actually say it, so that he could rub it in we all owed him a Knut for being right."

"You've ruined it all," James huffed.

Harry told her Lupin and Arthur thought the same thing, but it did prove Malfoy was planning something.

Hermione reluctantly agreed to this while Harry tacked on he was also working on Voldemort's orders.

Hermione disagreed with this, saying Harry had only overheard reference to a master, it could be Draco's father.

"I can't at all imagine that," Lily disagreed with a huff, completely understanding Harry's agitated look Hermione was still looking for ways to prove Harry wrong.

She stared across the room, apparently lost in thought, not even noticing Lavender tickling Ron, before asking how Lupin was.

"Naw, look Moony, your students still miss you," Sirius very heavily hinted.

"Shut up Padfoot," Remus huffed without looking over. If anything his future state only further confirmed for him what a terrible idea it was to even pretend teaching at that school was a possibility, nothing he ever did seemed remotely a good thing.

Harry told her all about Lupin's mission among the werewolves and the difficulties he was facing.

"I'm sure she loved that holiday cheer," James grumbled, not exactly holding it against Harry spreading this around to his friends, but it wasn't something any of them quite liked sharing with others.

He asked if she'd heard of Greyback, and Hermione agreed she had, and so had Harry.

"Have I?" Harry muttered in confusion, casting his mind back. He was sure it had come up at some point, but never in detail like that break had offered.

Malfoy had said his name while they'd been listening in at Borgin's shop.

"Oh, right," Harry nodded now in understanding, glancing sadly at Remus. He wondered how many times something like that had passed over his head entirely.

Harry recalled this now, and said this was only further proof Malfoy was a Death Eater, how else could he use such a threat.

Hermione retracted at once he could have just been using an empty threat.

"I, can almost see that one," Remus grudgingly agreed. "Only Voldemort can really tell Greyback who he is and isn't going to attack, and even then that monster works more as a free agent than anything."

Harry scowled at him, but held himself back. He didn't want to argue with Remus regarding anything to do with this.

Harry called her as unbelievable, they'd all be eating their words, just as the Ministry while shaking his head at her.

Harry fought back a shiver, shaking his head in here as well, though to convince another headache to subside rather than renewed exasperation like the others thought.

Then he recalled his row with Rufus Scrimgeour, casually mentioning this to her.

"Oh yeah, I just randomly had an actual argument with the Minister of Magic is all," James snickered.

And the rest of the evening passed amicably with both of them abusing the Minister of Magic, for Hermione, like Ron, thought that after all the Ministry had put Harry through the previous year, they had a great deal of nerve asking him for help now.

"That's nice they can still agree on something," Sirius sighed.

The new term started next morning with a pleasant surprise for the sixth years: a large sign had been pinned to the common room notice boards overnight.

APPARITION LESSONS

"Well this was a treat," James started to laugh, though quickly silenced himself again at Lily's disparaging sigh at the reminder of her own.

If you are seventeen years of age, or will turn seventeen on or before the 31st August next, you are eligible for a twelve-week course of Apparition Lessons from a Ministry of Magic Apparition instructor. Please sign below if you would like to participate. Cost: 12 Galleons.

Harry and Ron joined the crowd that was jostling around the notice and taking it in turns to write their names at the bottom. Ron was just taking out his quill to sign after Hermione when Lavender crept up behind him, slipped her hands over his eyes, and trilled, for him to guess who, again using his new nick name of Won-Won.

Harry turned to see Hermione stalking off; he caught up with her, having no wish to stay behind with Ron and Lavender, but to his surprise, Ron caught up with them only a little way beyond the portrait hole, his ears bright red and his expression disgruntled.

"Well, looks like that wore off already," Sirius said in surprise. "Must have been the jewelry," he decided, "probably felt like too much of a commitment."

"Hopefully Ron doesn't start going through girls like you did," Remus snipped, he didn't want to hear Hermione's temper lingering any longer than it had to, so if things were inevitably over with Lavender he hoped those two would get a move on.

Without a word, Hermione sped up to walk with Neville.

Ron continued as if nothing had happened about Apparition lessons, his expression making it plain Harry should do the same.

Harry said he hoped it was better when he did it himself, he hadn't much enjoyed his first Apparition experience with Dumbledore.

"It is a bit of an acquired feeling," Remus agreed.

Ron was starting to look anxious at the reminder Harry had already done it, muttering to the universe he'd better on the first try like the twins had.

Harry remembered that Charlie hadn't, and Ron reminded he was the size of a gorilla.

All of them got a chuckle out of that, they were sure Ron was exaggerating how big his big brother was.

The twins had never made fun of him, to his face anyway.

"Lovely," Lily snorted.

Harry pointed out they couldn't do it in the castle, and Ron said that wasn't the point, everyone would know they could!

Ron was not the only one to be excited at the prospect of Apparition. All that day there was much talk about the forthcoming lessons; a great deal of store was set by being able to vanish and reappear at will.

Seamus was chatting animatedly with them during Charms class, snapping his fingers for emphasis what it would be like when he could do it. His cousin Fergus did all the time, and he wouldn't get a peaceful moment when he could return the favor.

"Sounds like a certain twins and Percy I already recall," Lily laughed in agreement.

"Sirius wasn't any better," James gave a disparaging sigh. "He might not have been able to do it, but Merlin did he lord he could."

Lost in visions of this happy prospect, he flicked his wand a little too enthusiastically, so that instead of producing the fountain of pure water that was the object of today's Charms lesson, he let out a hose like jet that ricocheted off the ceiling and knocked Professor Flitwick flat on his face.

"That poor man," Remus burst out laughing.

"Well, Flitwick can't say he did the spell wrong exactly," Lily giggled.

Ron told a slightly abashed Seamus Harry had already felt the experience, after Professor Flitwick had dried himself off with a wave of his wand and set Seamus lines: I am a wizard, not a baboon brandishing a stick.

"Least he hasn't gotten any more creative about his punishments," James said happily, doing normal lines was the least awful detention he'd heard of lately, why couldn't Harry ever get those?

Harry soon found himself besieged with requests from the other sixth years to describe the sensation of Apparition. All of them seemed awed, rather than put off, when he told them how uncomfortable it was, and he was still answering detailed questions at ten to eight that evening, when he was forced to lie and say that he needed to return a book to the library, so as to escape in time for his lesson with Dumbledore.

The lamps in Dumbledore's office were lit, the portraits of previous headmasters were snoring gently in their frames, and the Pensive was ready upon the desk once more.

"Are we ever going to hear anything else besides these?" Sirius groused, he'd still barely cared about the first two.

"I hope so, or at least that they become more relevant soon," Remus agreed.

Dumbledore's hands lay on either side of it, the right one as blackened and burnt-looking as ever. It did not seem to have healed at all and Harry wondered, for perhaps the hundredth time, what had caused such a distinctive injury, but did not ask; Dumbledore had said that he would know eventually and there was, in any case, another subject he wanted to discuss. But before Harry could say anything about Snape and Malfoy, Dumbledore spoke. He brought up Harry's meeting with the Minister, and when Harry admitted he wasn't very happy with him now, Dumbledore agreed Scrimgeour wasn't happy with him as well.

They must not, however, sink beneath their anguish, but battle on.

That got a surprised snort of laughter out of them all, they missed this more lighthearted Dumbledore who could still joke around.

Harry grinned, while explaining to Dumbledore the Minister had wanted him to tell the Ministry was doing a bang up job.

Dumbledore smiled as well when he explained it was originally Fudge's idea, in his last days as he tried to cling to his post, he'd sought a meeting with Harry as well.

"Did that hat squeeze all sanity out of him?" James gaped at such ludicrousness.

Harry was even more outraged, while Dumbledore continued the idea had not died with him, within hours of Scrimgeour attaining office he'd demanded Dumbledore arrange a meeting with Harry Potter.

"Demanded," Lily scoffed, as if Harry couldn't make that decision himself.

Harry recalled the Daily Prophet once saying his headmaster and the Minister had argued, and this had been what it was about.

"Apparently they can get some things right," Remus heavily rolled his eyes for that.

Dumbledore agreed they were bound to report the truth occasionally.

Remus' face twisted in such agitation, Sirius didn't dare even crack a smile, let alone point out they'd said the same thing.

Harry explained to the end how Scrimgeour had called him Dumbledore's man when Harry wouldn't say anything, and Harry agreeing he was.

James sighed and dragged his fingers through his hair, for perhaps the thousandth time wondering at his son looking to someone else for him. He'd first glanced at the idea for Arthur and Hagrid, then when Sirius had properly appeared the idea had never left. Now he was once again floundering with doubt what his son felt for him when he had so many better options, but he wasn't even sure he was right this time. He couldn't think up many other options why Harry was so stoutly on Dumbledore's side no matter what the man revealed to have done to him.

Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again. Behind Harry, Fawkes the phoenix let out a low, soft, musical cry. To Harry's intense embarrassment, he suddenly realized that Dumbledore's bright blue eyes looked rather watery,

"Oh," Lily whispered softly, quite touched herself as for a moment she felt forced to see it the way Dumbledore would. How Harry had not been wrong last year in saying Dumbledore's situation was quite like her sons, he would have been attacked on all sides, and even though the Order had rallied to him, Harry's words now must have meant something to him they hadn't yet realized, he was seeking to stay connected to Harry even after all he'd done.

and stared hastily at his own knees. When Dumbledore spoke, however, his voice was quite steady when he told Harry he was touched.

Harry still spoke to his knee as he said Scrimgeour had wanted to know where Dumbledore kept going outside of school.

Dumbledore sounded downright cheerful as he said he was aware, he'd even had him try to be followed a few times, he'd felt quite repentant jinxing Dawlish again.

"That poor man can't catch a break from this," Sirius gave a delighted snort.

Dumbledore asked if there was anything else that needed to be discussed before their lesson, and Harry agreed, launching into his tale about what he'd overheard between Snape and Malfoy.

He listened with an open expression without interrupting, but when Harry was done, he requested they move on from that as it was not of great importance.

"Not of great-" Remus began to protest, but James was already going with the same sharp tone for this explanation.

Harry began to protest didn't he understand-

Dumbledore sounded a bit sharp now that yes he'd understood everything spoken.

"Yes, it's not as if Harry's allowed to not understand why you wouldn't grasp the importance of this!" Sirius snapped, just as tired as Harry was of this constantly being dismissed by everyone around him, it only caused a more stunning reminder he wasn't around.

There was even the possibility he understood more than Harry.

Lily bit hard at her lip to try and stop the surge of hope that caused. Snape had already told Dumbledore then, and he certainly had every reason not to seeing as far as Snape was concerned he and Draco were the only ones involved in their dispute. Why then would Snape bother telling anyone else unless he was keeping Dumbledore up to date on something, though her worry quickly reappeared all over again as it seemed more accurate than ever it really was something to do with Voldemort himself.

Harry tried to persist his point this meant the two were up to something, but Dumbledore didn't sound very tolerant as he rebuked Harry he'd been patient with this question already, and his answer had not changed.

"I'd be a little more surprised at this point if it had," Remus rolled his eyes.

Phineas Nigellus spoke up from his portrait he should think not!

They both ignored him, Dumbledore insisting upon Harry it was time to discuss more important things this evening.

Harry sat there feeling mutinous. How would it be if he refused to permit the change of subject, if he insisted upon arguing the case against Malfoy?

"Thought you were arguing about Snape, not Malfoy," Sirius blinked in confusion. He certainly didn't disagree there was something there.

"Point still stood I wanted to further this conversation," Harry huffed.

"I sort of imagine Dumbledore ignoring you and dumping you headfirst into this memory anyways," James offered, though not as if he really meant it. Least it was something funny to think about.

As though he had read Harry's mind, Dumbledore shook his head and spoke of two people both believing what they had to say was more important than the other.

"Trying to guilt you into changing the subject then," Lily pointed out.

Harry stiffly returned he didn't think what Dumbledore had to say was unimportant.

Dumbledore briskly continued Harry was right about that, he had another two memories to show, the second the most important he'd yet collected.

"Ooh, trying to bait your curiosity," Remus muttered without any of his own enthusiasm. Dumbledore certainly knew his verbal sparring tactics.

Harry did not say anything to this; he still felt angry at the reception his confidences had received, but could not see what was to be gained by arguing further.

Dumbledore seemed to accept this and continued with Voldemort's story, still as Tom Riddle, a young handsome orphan thirsty for knowledge entering Hogwarts. He was sorted at once into Slytherin, and how soon he learned of his heritage is unknown, perhaps he learned of his ancestry to the house that very night. The knowledge could only have excited him and increased his sense of self-importance.

"Ugh," Sirius grumbled, he'd been right so far, he still cared nothing for these details.

However, if he was frightening or impressing fellow Slytherins with displays of Parseltongue in their common room, no hint of it reached the staff.

"I should think not," Lily speculated, "he holds his privacy as too important."

"You mean his secrets," James corrected.

He showed no sign of outward arrogance or aggression at all. He quickly charmed all of his teachers,

James's nose crinkled in disgust at the idea of McGonagall fawning over Voldemort, even if she wasn't the teacher at the time, it was still the principle of the matter teacher's he'd have likely also respected doing this.

Harry asked hadn't Dumbledore shared his knowledge of what he'd learned about Riddle at the orphanage?

"I wouldn't imagine so," Remus frowned in confusion of that, even he had yet expected Dumbledore to sink so low. "Put a bad impression of the kid on the teachers before they even met him, you know that's not his style."

"I thought of it more as a warning," Harry defended. He still didn't seem able to distance this kid from the villain he grew up to be like the others clearly could.

Dumbledore corrected he wanted to give young Tom the chance for a fresh leave. He paused and looked inquiringly at Harry, who had opened his mouth to speak. Here, again, was Dumbledore's tendency to trust people in spite of overwhelming evidence that they did not deserve it! But then Harry remembered something, that the Riddle diary had once told him about Dumbledore never liking him as much as the other teachers.

Dumbledore agreed as much, speculating Tom regretted what all he'd revealed on the day they met and so kept a particular distance, he certainly never tried any of his usual tactics on him as he had his colleagues.

"Can't even imagine how that would work," Sirius frowned at the idea of a charming Voldemort, rather than the menace he was.

As he moved up the school, he gathered about him a group of dedicated friends; calling them that, for want of a better term, although as he had already indicated, Riddle undoubtedly felt no affection for any of them. This group had a kind of dark glamour within the castle. They were a motley collection; a mixture of the weak seeking protection, the ambitious seeking some shared glory, and the thuggish gravitating toward a leader who could show them more refined forms of cruelty.

"Future Death Eaters then," Lily said in disgust.

"The first of their kind apparently," James sighed in agreement, his heart shriveling at the thought of what if one in particular had been in school with Voldemort, would he have so easily dumped his friends then as well?

In other words, they were the forerunners of the Death Eaters, and indeed some of them became the first Death Eaters after leaving Hogwarts. *

Rigidly controlled by Riddle, they were never detected in open wrongdoing, although their seven years at Hogwarts were marked by a number of nasty incidents to which they were never satisfactorily linked, the most serious of which

"I wasn't in school at the time," Sirius batted his eyes innocently.

"No, but your mother would have been," James raised a brow at him, "so careful what you say next mate."

"Argh, thanks for that thought Prongs!" Sirius growled in disgust.

was, of course, the opening of the Chamber of Secrets, which resulted in the death of a girl. As they knew, Hagrid was wrongly accused of that crime.

"I'm almost grateful the one murder was the worst," Lily groaned. The idea of Voldemort around vulnerable children was devastating, if he'd been at the height of his power in the same vicinity, scores of Myrtles would have been occurring.

He had not been able to find many memories of Riddle at Hogwarts, Dumbledore continued, placing his withered hand on the Pensive. Few who knew him then were prepared to talk about him; they are too terrified. What he did know, he found out after he had left Hogwarts, after much painstaking effort, after tracing those few who could be tricked into speaking, after searching old records and questioning Muggle and wizard witnesses alike.

Those whom he could persuade to talk told that Riddle was obsessed with his parentage. This is understandable, of course; he had grown up in an orphanage and naturally wished to know how he came to be there. It seems that he searched in vain for some trace of Tom Riddle senior on the shields in the trophy room, on the lists of prefects in the old school records, even in the books of Wizarding history. Finally he was forced to accept that his father had never set foot in Hogwarts. It was likely then that he dropped the name forever, assumed the identity of Lord Voldemort, and began his investigations into his previously despised mother's family the woman whom he had thought could not be a witch if she had succumbed to the shameful human weakness of death.

"Lovely, truly so, to think so little of both of them at one time," James muttered in disgust, not as if he were really surprised, but the idea of a creature like Voldemort ever being human at all, let alone with something like parents, wasn't an idea he'd ever nursed before, so doing so now made this as appropriate as it could be with hindsight.

All he had to go upon was the single name Marvolo, which he knew from those who ran the orphanage had been his mother's father's name. Finally, after painstaking research, through old books of Wizarding families, he discovered the existence of Slytherin's surviving line. In the summer of his sixteenth year, he left the orphanage to which he returned annually and set off to find his Gaunt relatives. Then he asked Harry to take to his feet.

"Oh no," Lily went wide eyed in concerned disgust.

"He didn't somehow get the memory of the Riddle family being murdered!" James yelped in protest.

"I can't imagine how, must be something else going on," Remus quickly shook his head, still clinging to the idea even Dumbledore wouldn't show Harry a whole family being murdered.

Dumbledore rose, and Harry saw that he was again holding a small crystal bottle filled with swirling, pearly memory. He mentioned how lucky he was to have collected this, which Harry would understand when he saw.

Harry stepped up to the stone basin and bowed obediently until his face sank through the surface of the memory; he felt the familiar sensation of falling through nothingness and then landed upon a dirty stone floor in almost total darkness.

It took him several seconds to recognize the place, by which time Dumbledore had landed beside him. The Gaunts' house

That was only a slightly reassuring start, considering what they'd feared was in the same village.

was now more indescribably filthy than anywhere Harry had ever seen. The ceiling was thick with cobwebs, the floor coated in grime; moldy and rotting food lay upon the table amidst a mass of crusted pots.

"Congratulations, you've fermented the idea of a pigsty," Sirius wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"That's what your place would look like if I didn't live there," Remus pleasantly mocked, though his tone was more distracted than anything.

Sirius must have been the same way, he barely acknowledged the jab except to make a face at him.

The only light came from a single guttering candle placed at the feet of a man with hair and beard so overgrown Harry could see neither eyes nor mouth. He was slumped in an armchair by the fire, and Harry wondered for a moment whether he was dead. But then there came a loud knock on the door and the man jerked awake, raising a wand in his right hand and a short knife in his left.

"Now where have I heard that before," James shifted uncomfortably, he hadn't enjoyed this place the first time around, being back with it somehow even lower in taste was not helping the mood.

The door creaked open. There on the threshold, holding an old-fashioned lamp, stood a boy Harry recognized at once: tall, pale, dark-haired, and handsome, the teenage Voldemort.

Voldemort's eyes moved slowly around the hovel and then found the man in the armchair. For a few seconds they looked at each other, then the man staggered upright, the many empty bottles at his feet clattering and tinkling across the floor as he shouted at him in clear recognition.

Lily sighed and bit back a grumble at the reminder Voldemort looked so like his father, whom Morphin was clearly seeing. It was only yet another comparison to her son that Voldemort didn't deserve.

And he hurtled drunkenly at Riddle, wand and knife held aloft.

Riddle spoke in Parseltongue for him to stop.

"Think he assumed he spoke it to?" Sirius narrowed his eyes, tilting his head a bit as he considered why Voldemort had chosen to say it like that, "or just trying to assert some power showing off."

"Both are likely," Remus sighed, not at all enjoying trying to pick apart Voldemort's motives.

The man skidded into the table, sending moldy pots crashing to the floor. He stared at Riddle. There was a long silence while they contemplated each other. The man broke it, asking he spoke it?

Riddle agreed, moving forward into the room, allowing the door to swing shut behind him. Harry could not help but feel a resentful admiration for Voldemort's complete lack of fear.

"Makes you wonder just how inhumane he already is," Remus narrowed his eyes, though more likely he'd already mastered the Unforgivable curses and was already willing to use them at such an age, just as depressing a thought honestly.

His face merely expressed disgust and, perhaps, disappointment as he asked where Marvolo was.

Morphin said he'd died years ago, introducing himself as Marvolo's son.

Morfin pushed the hair out of his dirty face, the better to see Riddle, and Harry saw that he wore Marvolo's black-stoned ring on his right hand. Muttering as if to himself, he said he'd thought he was that Muggle, looked an awful lot like them.

Riddle sharply demanded who this was, and Morfin continued that Muggle who lived in the big house over the way.

"Still alive then," James breathed.

'Not for much longer,' Lily bitterly thought, well aware the time still matched remarkably far to well for this all to be a coincidence Voldemort was in the same place as he would one day be to murder the lot.

He spat unexpectedly upon the floor between them as he ranted of this Riddle, but he was older now that he thought on it.

"Must be hard to do that," Sirius said with quiet snark, for once not trying to draw attention to himself, repulsively still aware of Prongs' joke he was related to both these blighters.

Morfin looked slightly dazed and swayed a little, still clutching the edge of the table for support as he continued adding to the story of when he'd come back.

Voldemort was gazing at Morfin as though appraising his possibilities. Now he moved a little closer and

"Were they still speaking in Parseltongue?" Remus distractedly asked.

"Yes," Harry agreed, "I honestly don't know if Morfin ever even learned English."

"Wouldn't particularly surprise me," Sirius agreed in disgust.

asked for more of this, and Morfin began ranting on about his filthy sister, taking Slytherin's locket! Finally some sense came back to him demanding who was he, to be here asking all this?

He looked away, staggering slightly, and Voldemort moved forward. As he did so, an unnatural darkness fell, extinguishing Voldemort's lamp and Morfin's candle, extinguishing everything. . . . Dumbledore's fingers closed tightly around Harry's arm and they were soaring back into the present again. The soft golden light in Dumbledore's office seemed to dazzle Harry's eyes after that impenetrable darkness.

Harry asked what happened to the rest, and Dumbledore said there was no more. Morfin could not remember anything from that point on.

"So that was Morfin's memory," Lily breathed in surprise. She'd suspected as much, there weren't any other options as it obviously couldn't be Voldemort handing this out, but the idea was just as mind boggling how Dumbledore had obtained this from a man she'd have assumed dead long ago before even now, let alone Harry's time when showing this.

When he awoke next morning, he was lying on the floor, quite alone. Marvolo's ring had gone.

Meanwhile, in the village of Little Hangleton, a maid was running along the High Street, screaming that there were three bodies lying in the drawing room of the big house: Tom Riddle Senior and his mother and father.

"Because I missed remembering all about the beginning of your fourth year," James let his head thump back against his seat, even as he was just slightly grateful the memory had ended there then, if the alternative was seeing that in person. The details they did have were more than enough.

The Muggle authorities were perplexed. To this day they do not know how the Riddles died, for the Avada Kedavra curse does not usually leave any sign of damage. . . the exception before him, he added with a nod to Harry's scar. The Ministry, on the other hand, knew at once that this was a wizard's murder. They also knew that a convicted Muggle-hater lived across the valley from the Riddle house, a Muggle-hater who had already been imprisoned once for attacking one of the murdered people.

"They blamed it on Morfin then," Sirius sighed.

"So there was a wizard who used to live in that village," James huffed, well remembering wanting to demand answers of why the Ministry hadn't swopped in to rescue his son when this had been happening to him.

"I don't get it though," Harry prodded further, clearly in the same thought as his father. "Surely Morfin died by now though, could he really still be alive and the Ministry didn't detect me using magic when I was there?"

"I suppose not, even if he were dead," Lily grudgingly tried to work out, she certainly wasn't happy thinking up ways Voldemort could have gotten away with murdering her child. "Depends on how good of records were being kept at the time, I told you the magic detecting underage use is always improving. At the time then, if no one had ever cleared the area, it would have just gone off under Morfin using magic. Remind me to fire someone for that," she finished bitterly.

So the Ministry called upon Morfin. They did not need to question him, to use Veritaserum or Legilimency. He admitted to the murder on the spot, giving details only the murderer could know. He was proud, he said, to have killed the Muggles, had been awaiting his chance all these years. He handed over his wand, which was proved at once to have been used to kill the Riddles, and he permitted himself to be led off to Azkaban without a fight.

Lily bit at her lip hard in frustration at once. She'd spoken with the idea Morfin had simply been murdered and left there for dead by Voldemort, now the Ministry would clearly know no wizard should live in that area.

Harry clearly understood the same problem, but they had no more idea what the answer could be for this except somehow, something had gone wrong on the inside that night.**

All that disturbed him was the fact that his father's ring had disappeared. He told his captors over and over again his father would kill him for losing that ring, and that apparently, was all he ever said again. He lived out the remainder of his life in Azkaban, lamenting the loss of Marvolo's last heirloom, and is buried beside the prison, alongside the other poor souls who have expired within its walls.

Harry understood Voldemort had stolen Morfin's wand and used it to kill the Riddles.

Dumbledore agreed, it likely played out as Voldemort Stupefying his own Uncle to carry out the deed before replacing it and implanting a false memory.

Harry was surprised Morfin never realized otherwise, but Dumbledore reminded he boasted of doing it.

Harry opened his mouth in confusion, but James was still distracted with his own memory of his fourteen year old in that graveyard so many years later he didn't notice and read it out before Harry could speak it.

Harry asked how that was possible with the real memory still in him, and Dumbledore explained it had taken much coaxing and skilled Legilimency to attain this, and why should anyone else bother when Morfin had confessed.

Remus snarled, wanting to spit in his own disgust for those choice words. Yes, why indeed should anyone ever decide to get all the answers rather than risk sending another innocent man to Azkaban. He didn't even have any feelings for Morfin, but the principle would always stand with him now, his eyes on one.

Dumbledore was only able to get this in his last lege of life, and by the time he'd gone to the Ministry to share it, Morfin had passed on.

Harry still didn't understand how he'd gotten away with it, he was underage when he'd used magic.

Dumbledore explained that Magic can not be detected for person, but by household. Those with magical parents were expected to stop their youths from doing this out of school, but still, the Ministry would not know the difference.

"Nice to find that out after your third trip to the Burrow where you could have been abusing this already," Lily tried halfheartedly to poke fun at this. She'd certainly escaped to Sev's house a fair few times in her youth to do the same. It came out too bitter, she'd find a way herself to refine this technique so that she could somehow find any underage wizard who could be out there attacked again.

Harry called it rubbish with how unfair that was, and while Dumbledore agreed, they must move on to this next memory. He took from an inside pocket another crystal phial and Harry fell silent at once, remembering that Dumbledore had said it was the most important one he had collected. Harry noticed that the contents proved difficult to empty into the Pensieve, as though they had congealed slightly; did memories go bad?

"They certainly can," Remus agreed with a look of concentration right back in place. "Age is not kind, even to us, we have trouble recalling most anything the longer we go without thinking of it. Magic can be assisted with this, but still can't fix everything."

Harry fell again through the silver surface, landing this time right in front of a man he recognized at once.

It was a much younger Horace Slughorn.

"Oh," Lily said in surprise, before a slight smile appeared across her face. She'd rather enjoyed hearing of her old Potions teacher today, and hoped at least this one thing Voldemort couldn't ruin of just a simple interaction between the two. It fell short almost instantly though as what Dumbledore said really struck, and she wondered what Slughorn could have been so involved in.

Harry was so used to him bald that he found the sight of Slughorn with thick, shiny, straw-colored hair quite disconcerting; it looked as though he had had his head thatched, though there was already a shiny Galleon-sized bald patch on his crown. His mustache, less massive than it was these days, was gingery-blond. He was not quite as rotund as the Slughorn Harry knew, though the golden buttons on his richly embroidered waistcoat were taking a fair amount of strain. His little feet resting upon a velvet pouffe, he was sitting well back in a comfortable winged armchair, one hand grasping a small glass of wine, the other searching through a box of crystalized pineapple.

Harry looked around as Dumbledore appeared beside him and saw that they were standing in Slughorn's office. Half a dozen boys were sitting around Slughorn, all on harder or lower seats than his, and all in their mid-teens. Harry recognized Voldemort at once. His was the most handsome face and he looked the most relaxed of all the boys. His right hand lay negligently upon the arm of his chair; with a jolt, Harry saw that he was wearing Marvolo's gold-and-black ring; he had already killed his father.

All five of them felt a slight shiver for that. Even having foreknowledge of what he'd done, it still didn't sit right someone his age had so easily committed four murders now, that they knew of. There could still be even more out there by this time, and the number would only grow. When could they finally stop counting?

Riddle was inquiring that a Professor Merrythought was retiring, and Slughorn wagged a sugar-coated finger at him, telling him he was far too informed, had more knowledge than half the staff.

The three Marauders grumbled a bit, they'd considered themselves that way as well during their time in that castle...and couldn't quite claim it all for good use.

Riddle smiled; the other boys laughed and cast him admiring looks. As several of the boys tittered, something very odd happened. The whole room was suddenly filled with a thick white fog, so that Harry could see nothing but the face of Dumbledore, who was standing beside him. Then Slughorn's voice rang out through the mist, unnaturally loudly, that he'd go wrong if he kept in this way.

"Hmm," Remus muttered, Harry at once glancing at him and then the others for explanation.

"There's memories fading, and then there's memories being forcibly forgotten," Sirius said stoutly.

"We really haven't much experience with this," James said slowly. "We've certainly never tried such a thing," he finished with a shrug.

"What on earth could he have said that was so bad?" Lily asked with some honest distress. She didn't like to think of her old favorite teacher encouraging Voldemort of all things, but it really couldn't have been that bad. He was clearly already on his set path no matter what Slughorn said during some old Slug Club meeting.

The fog cleared as suddenly as it had appeared and yet nobody made any allusion to it, nor did anybody look as though anything unusual had just happened. Bewildered, Harry looked around as a small golden clock standing upon Slughorn's desk chimed eleven o'clock. Slughorn was clearly surprised at the time, shooing the boys on their way out the door, calling to a few like Lestrange to make sure and get assignments in.

Sirius made a disgusted little noise for the first name in particular, as if he needed any reminder of her.

Slughorn pulled himself out of his armchair and carried his empty glass over to his desk as the boys filed out. Voldemort, however, stayed behind. Harry could tell he had dawdled deliberately, wanting to be last in the room with Slughorn.

The teacher told him he didn't want to be caught out of bed this late, being a prefect.

Riddle disregarded this, saying he had a question, about Horcruxes.

Harry sat bolt upright in his seat as if suddenly a broom had been attached to it, his attention so ridiculously focused on the book in James's hands he felt lucky it didn't catch fire.

Having read Dumbledore's notes on the Warlock's Hairy Heart in those old Beedle stories, the others were just a touch more privy to this than they would have been days ago, but still had no more idea than ever what locked Harry's interest in it so much. The fact that Voldemort of all people was bringing it up was certainly the most disturbing!

Remus patted Harry's shoulder reassuringly, and he didn't even notice. Sirius called for his attention, and Harry didn't even bat an eye, just kept staring right at James without really seeing him.

His scar was already in pain again, a dull aching throb that only ever existed in his mind, even while he was learning of this in the moment rather than seeking a memory, which only proved to him there was much more to be said on this, and it only then occurred to him that high ringing noise in his ear was not being interlaced with words. With a slow shake of his head and a very deep breath, he tried as calmly as he was capable of to ask this continue, even if for the life of him his mind couldn't even grasp who he was asking this of, so locked in his head as he was.

James exchanged an anxious look with Lily before finally deciding to do just that, it's not as if they had any other real options, they'd never been able to snap Harry out of it before when he got like this.

And it happened all over again: The dense fog filled the room so that Harry could not see Slughorn or Voldemort at all; only Dumbledore, smiling serenely beside him. Slughorn's voice more rang out eerily that he knew nothing of those and wouldn't tell if he did, never mention this again!

Dumbledore said that was all there was, and Harry's feet left the floor to fall, seconds later, back onto the rug in front of Dumbledore's desk.

Harry finally released that breath he'd been holding, thankfully as they were sure his lips were starting to change color, and spoke softly, "well, that's a problem."

"I'd say," James finally lowered it and stared properly at his son, wanting to scold, but still more concerned than anything. "What's your fixation on these, they're ghastly!"

No one could forget the brief passage where Dumbledore had stated what these things did, somehow splitting a soul. It wasn't natural, as ethereal as a ghost existing and far less pleasant than even that.

"Don't know," Harry murmured, his face still drawn tight with pain he honestly wished to never understand even as he spoke aloud for them what he couldn't shake off, "but I'm afraid I'm going to find out."

They all exchanged an anxious glance for that, but sadly the pieces were all there for them to put together. James glanced down and saw how close he was to being done, and would be plenty happy to put this off for a few moments, so he went along with what Dumbledore had to say about this rather than more cryptic comments from his son.

Harry asked why that was all there was.

Dumbledore had said that this was the most important memory of all, but he could not see what was so significant about it. Admittedly the fog, and the fact that nobody seemed to have noticed it, was odd, but other than that nothing seemed to have happened except that Voldemort had asked a question and failed to get an answer.

"Which I'm sure doesn't last," Lily sighed as she twirled a bit of hair around her finger in worry. At least now she understood Slughorn's part in all this, she could only imagine how unhappy he'd be with himself if he'd somehow helped Voldemort in any way, and this didn't seem like the kind of question that would be asked if he hadn't some other way of getting the information.

Dumbledore needlessly pointed out the fog in sections of those memories, and explained this was a memory being tampered with. Shame perhaps had led Slughorn to hiding something away, crudely at that, but the highlight was this meant the memory was still there beneath the surface.

So, for the first time, Harry was being given homework.

"Ugh!" Sirius theatrically groaned, gearing up for a full blown rant on the Headmaster of all people adding onto this, but James didn't give him the chance, he was far too eager to be done with his part and pass this off.

It would be Harry's job to get the full memory from Professor Slughorn, which would be their most crucial piece of information of all.

"As if Dumbledore doesn't know what a Horcrux is himself," Remus frowned in confusion.

"I suppose the importance lies in what exactly Slughorn did tell Riddle then," Lily offered.

"Like what? The answer's bad enough, what more could be in there?" Sirius huffed.

"I've every confidence Harry's going to find out," James sighed, hoping against hope he didn't have to get that one as well.

Harry stared at him, saying surely Dumbledore could, with Veritaserum or Legilimency.

Dumbledore denied both, saying Slughorn was a skilled enough wizard to be prepared for anything he tried, which he was likely on guard of since the day Dumbledore had gotten this travesty of a recollection.

Sirius almost wanted to laugh in surprise, for himself, that some sympathy actually flared at Slughorn's paranoia. That old man never could catch a break, from Voldemort or even Dumbledore now it seemed.

"Guess this finally explains just why Slughorn was on the run," Lily murmured, if Dumbledore wanted this so badly, surly Voldemort would want the opposite just as much, and would do anything to silence their old Potions teacher.

It would take Harry persuading him the old fashioned way to attain this, and he emphasized how important this was. Then he bid Harry good night.

"Go do what no one before has, you're dismissed!" Sirius scoffed, still rankled over Dumbledore's stupid homework, now he was actively forcing Harry to learn more about Voldemort for him rather than just passing along information that was yet really to their helpfulness. Even he couldn't deny though, there was something there he just didn't want to think about until he had to, something about Voldemort's time in that orphanage and this topic of splitting a soul now he had no want to connect even in his mind, let alone verbally, so he eagerly pushed it all away and kept up his mutterings about endless papers for life, something he'd had plenty of practice with.

A little taken aback by the abrupt dismissal, Harry got to his feet quickly with a returned goodnight.

As he left, Phineas Nigellus spoke up again from behind how he didn't see the boy doing any better than Dumbledore.

Dumbledore replied he didn't expect anyone else to, and Fawkes gave another low, musical cry.

James sighed as he finished his part, it was relatively short thankfully, though that never managed to lessen their woes.

HPHPHPHP

I knew I'd be spoiling a bit of this book myself by having them read the Beedle tales so early, but the benefits of the ongoing argument existing in seven because of the Tale of the Three Brothers outweighed learning what Horcruxes and their plot importance were a few chapters early in this book. Hope you still enjoyed the rest.

*Saw this really fascinating video on the first Death Eaters who were for a time called the Knights of Walburga by the SupercarlinBrothers. Look it up, as I have no way of mentioning it in my fic, it's definitely worth a watch!

** A question brought up ages ago that I no longer have a good answer for. I've worked out as much as I can with the information given, it was a clerical mistake. That's honestly not satisfying enough for me though, so unless there's some unexplained family that took up residence there that we're never privy of knowing about, this remains an open plot hole I'll never be able to write off.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #HP #HBP #The Life That Never Lived #Marauders #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter #jilly

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