#peter also made a good point about the taking a known traitor to the end strategy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stuckybarton · 3 years ago

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Sucker For Pain i

SUMMARY: You were new to the team, but what everyone didn't know was you weren't so new to the God of Mischief. CHARACTERS: Loki Laufeyson x Ex!Reader [Ex to Lovers again?] WARNINGS: Profanities. Suggestive Themes. Slight Angst and horrible self-image. Grammar Mistakes. English not being my first language. [Not Beta’d tho] WORDS: 2,956 CHAPTERS: [1/3] A/N; Life happened and yeah, didn’t have much time to write. Not my best work for this mini-series, but I’m fighting through for this. Hope you guys enjoy~

PART TWO | PART THREE

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"Agent Y/N Y/L/N." You introduced yourself the first moment you were escorted into the compound by Director Nick Fury. Multiple sets of faces both new and old had come to greet you. For a moment you wouldn't even believe that this is was the new life you would find yourself to be a part of from now on.

Years in the job for SHIELD before disappearing off the grid to get as much information about HYDRA, everyone had thought you had betrayed them and you had accepted that they would think so lowly of you after all the near-deaths you had to endure on the job. Even with the mission becoming more of a death wish, you had accepted the role Nick had given you all those years ago and now you were rewarded, immensely. A spot on the Avengers as part of the Earth's Mightiest Heroes.

The familiar face of Nat was the first to greet you with a hug. A fiercely tight one, it had been so long since you've seen a friend. Then your eyes fell towards the rest of the team; Bucky Barnes, who you had a few close encounters with during your time with HYDRA. You had witness everything they had done to him and stood on trail to clean his name. Steve Rogers, who, with Sharon Carter, had assisted in guarding Steve while SHIELD was still under HYDRA's control. But among the familiar faces, one stood out the most.

Loki Laufeyson.

To many, the man was a snake, a God that had once brought death and destruction in New York. But to you, he was different, this was the man that you had spent your lonely nights with while under the guise of a traitor. It had once just been a physically thing between the two of you, neither wanting to know about each other's lives. You knew he was a God, a man that had wronged the world, but he had never known about you, the woman that had painted yourself as a traitor for the better of the world. The one that had been called every name on the book for the sake of making sure you did your part right.

Then it got serious between the two of you. Admission of love was told between both of your lips. But it was dangerous for you two to be together especially when you were already told by Fury that you can come back to the surface. You didn't know what side he was on, and you did not have the heart to make him choose if the time would come.

So you two parted. A month ago. The pain still throbbing you like an unattended bullet hole right through your heart. It was still so painful to look at him and not remember him crumbling on his knees begging you to stay. The first sob that escaped his lips and forever haunted your dreams. A never-ending loop in the back of your head as your demons screamed at you for breaking an already broken man.

"I for one am happy you're finally here. Another woman to add to an already Man's Man world in the compound." Nat teased glancing towards the other individuals that had come to know the new face. "With introductions out of the way, you've got a lot of explaining to do for the past few years."

You could only smile at your friend. You did have so much to explain to her, things had been murky between you and Clint, but after everything, Nat had refused to believe you would betray them, betray her, and it was finally a relief to be able to return back home, seeing the people that mean the most to you.

"Tell me about it." You muttered allowing Nat to quickly pull your away from the crowd, but it missed your eyes how he was still looking. Ice blue eyes a contract to the burning gaze he had towards you.

Forget about him. Forget about him. You were here for a new opportunity. No him. Never him.

For the next few weeks, everyone had grown to accept you in your new role as part of the Avengers. You kept up with Steve, Bucky, and Sam during their runs. Sam more than happy to finally have someone that had the same pace as him, but only for you to laugh and out run him just to get a reaction out of the high flier. Tony and Bruce had also found a kinship in you, having provided them enough information about HYDRA's experiments and location made most of their missions easier. Then there was Nat and Clint, your confidant in this new life. Every single moment that was not dedicated to a mission was spent with them; may it be movie night or a simple get together outside the compound, often times bringing Wanda and Vision along just to mess with you and call you a 5th wheel of the group.

But among number of members on the team, everyone had noticed you constantly avoided one Thor Odinson and one Loki Laufeyson. The only real time you would even dare talk to either of the brothers would be during training--other than that, you tried your best to avoid them, Loki most especially. Every single moment that would force the two of you to be in the same room, Loki had a glare while you tried your best to avoid his gaze.

Everyone noticed, everyone didn't seem to worry too much. It comes with having a former-villain part of the team. They thought you would eventually get used to the God's presence just as much as they did.

"You ever gonna tell me what's going on between you and Loki?" Nat inquired avoiding your punch.

What you hated the most about sparring with Nat was her capability of multitasking. Talking and snooping about someone else's business while also kicking their ass in the process--this was the predicament you were in right in this very moment.

"Nothing is going on." You muttered landing back first on the mat after being thrown like a rag doll by Nat. Eyes looking at the ceiling, you wondered if it was a good idea to actually come clean to her about her past with the God of Mischief. "I know what he's done to New York and I think you can't blame me for taking precaution when it comes to him."

Nat now comes hovering on top of you, the narrowed eyes and gentle smirk was all you needed to know--she knew it was bullshit. But when she had stopped pushing you for more information, it was enough for you to just change the subject.

"They found Dominic?" You inquired. One of the first big missions that everyone was focusing on was one of the leading Scientist for HYDRA. With the exposure of HYDRA to the world, some of them had moved away and found themselves in much shadier company, much to everyone's radar now spiking.

Dominic Wagner was, in part, partially responsible for the Winter Soldier program in the modern era. One of the pioneers in moving the project into a much younger sets of test subjects. You lost contact with the man as soon as your got back into the surface, but it had also meant a target was on your back when they found out you were a double agent.

"He's in Russia. Wasting away all the funding for the program with parties" Nat points out. "Still a better way to spend the money that abducting kids everywhere."

You nodded, memories of files upon files for the prospects still haunted you to this day.

"When are you taking him out?" You inquired. In your time with the SHIELD, the red in both of your ledger had made you two a hot commodity if the situation present itself as shoot to kill. Neither of you would hesitate. You knew you would now, after everything, but if it means one less bad people in this earth, you would swallow your new morals.

"Fury wants him alive." She pointed out finally standing back up to her own two feet, leaving you on your back, staring at the ceiling in deep thought. "I know as much as you do, we want him dead for everything he has done, but we need him alive so we can get the others."

You nodded, this was one of the few things you had to get used to as part of the team. Death was best solution in SHIELD--at least in your team, not here. As long as you were part of Steve's team, you would need to choose whether or not killing would be the best option. Hope that you weren't so blessed to be given in your time under.

"I get a first shot when we don''t have any use of him anymore." You muttered finally standing back up with Nat's help. Steps faltering at the sight of the God of Mischief, training with the likes of Peter Parker, Sam Wilson, and Bucky Barnes. A weird mix up, but wasn't hard to understand why.

"Why don't you shoot your shots with him for now." Nat teased, finally making you break from staring at the plain black shirt and green sweatshort-clad Loki Laufeyson. "If we try to ignore the death count during his attack, he is sort-of your type in men." Nat wiggled her brows. quick to avoid you as you attempted to swat her in the ass, eyes now turned away from God and his training partners.

"By type, you mean psychotic with possible Daddy-issue? Then you might just be right." You snort.

"I'm offended you think of me as such, Darling"

Jerking your head to the owner of the voice, how the hell did he sneak up behind you without you noticing. You glanced at Nat in panic and like the traitor that she was, made a terrible excuse of being needed in Bruce's lab. Now being left in the man's presence, you could all but remember the last time you had been this close to the man.

Heartbreaks.

Words that you didn't mean.

Words that he didn't mean.

It still hurt you, and you were sure it hurts him just as much, if not more now, finally realizing why there had been a need for a breakup between the two of them all those weeks ago.

"Here I thought I would have someone to trust. You mortals continue to disappoint me." He hissed.

Your eyes glanced at the other training trio, noticing all three of them were in their own little world to even noticed what was going on between the two of them.

"Tell me, Darling..." He whispered, head leaning towards the shell of your ears. The familiar shiver run through your skin as just his voice. Memories of the very things his silver tongue had whispered had you flustered and breathless, more than from your earlier training with Nat. "Was it satisfying to play with a God?"

Before you could even mutter a word, his constantly gentle hand now covered your jaw, emitting a squeak from your lips and stopping you from saying a word. He was never this forceful, nor did he do anything that would hurt you. Was this the true nature of the man you had finally thought you have been the best part of you. To have loved a man that everyone was right to stay away from?

"Or is it shame finally coming to you, to be ever involved with someone like me?"

You tried to pry his hand away from you, but he was too strong--stronger than you could ever think of being.

"Or is this you taking your opportunity to move from one bed to another? Who will it be this time, Y/N? My oaf of a brother or will it be Soldier out of time? Who will you whore this time?"

And you finally snapped. With a resounding slap, all three individuals had heard your attack on the man and Loki finally releasing his hold on your jaws. A chuckle escaped his lips and only brought the first line of tears to fall from your eyes. You never wanted to believe him to be a monster, but here he was, proving her wrong.

"I am in doubt of the foundation of our relationship for the past years, Y/N. I am the God of Mischief and Lies and the only mortal I had ever truly opened to had done this to me. Lied to me for such a long time, lied about the entirety of our relationship."

"You will never understand."

"Oh no," he chuckled darkly, eyes glaring straight into your own. "I understand well enough to know, you would never love someone like me and I deserve every lie and heartache I am enduring because of everything I have ever done in my past."

Before you could defend yourself and the genuinity of your relationship with the God, he had made his excuse. Leaving you to ponder of the true damage of your breakup with Loki, and the aftermath it had now held for the both of you. He was right, you had lied, and either way, their relationship will fall apart because of those lies.

He was the God of Mischief and Lies.

Yet, he did not expect for this biggest lie to break him the most. The separation had been painful, he had always hoped for a better life with you. Then a month passed since your breakup, he sees you, it hits him like a sharp knife to the chest all over again. He experience the pain of a stab to the chest, but it would never compare to the pain of seeing you in this very compound with the truth of your life that you refused to ever open to him.

This was karma coming to haunt him it seems.

It had been well over a week now since the first time he had actually confronted you about everything. It wasn't how he planned for things to go through. He never wanted to hurt you, but he was a monster after all. A monster that his own father had told his people to avoid. A bedtime story to scare mischievous kids into submission.

He had always thought after everything he had to endure, had to do, had to escape, he could finally live a peaceful life. A life to finally start anew. A life where he could finally change for the best. A mortal woman had made him make those ideas come into reality, you had always became the reason why he would never have his redemption in life.

A bitter idea with no possible resolution.

How could he have ever believed that anyone would ever love someone like him? After everything he had ever done, he was never allowed to be loved. You had proved that somehow.

'Mr. Laufeyson, you are needed for a meeting with the team'

Breaking from his little bubble. He sighed finally returning back to reality, into the little comforts the library could give him. The week had been gruelling for him, three individual witnessed the altercation between himself and you. It had spread like wildfire, but thanking the Gods that no one was able to listen to the conversation.

He had to endure most of the questioning. In everyone's eyes, he was, after all, still under everyone's constant scrutiny. A man that no one could trust. But he refused to say a single word knowing you did the same thing. It was better to keep your mouth shut instead of letting people know exactly what had happened. Somehow that brought a smile on his face. He might not share a future with you, but might as well make the most out of making your life a living hell, as much you did it to him.

Shutting the book he was barely even reading, he placed the book back into the shelf before walking his way towards the meeting room.

He could easily teleport, but he preferred to enjoy his moments of peace without his oaf of a brother breathing down his neck or Stark constantly testing his patience with his quips. It also gave him a moment to school his features, he knew well enough about the mission to know you would also be in attendance. Be more invested in this mission than anyone else.

It was a few things he was relearning about you now that you were out in the open as everyone claims you to be. You were a free spirited being that could meld with anyone you were in the area with. He had watched you throw relentless jabs at Tony during your first few days that had the man surprisingly raise a white flag. But the most dangerous thing he had to learn was the familial relationship you had with one Natasha Romanoff and Clint Burton, two people that he kept his distance with the most.

"Professor Snape has finally graced us with his presence."

Loki has learned since joining the team to choose his battle when it comes to Tony. This was one of those moment. Finding a vacant chair besides his brother, he had taken his seat. A big mistake on his part as he finds from across the table, you sat. In between a glaring Romanoff and Barton.

Wearing a smirk, just to get on the two super spies' nerve, he turned his attention right back into the meeting. He begins formulating a few little schemes to not only get on the two's nerved, but most especially yours.

#loki laufeyson oneshot #loki laufeyson one shot #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson imagines #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x y/n #loki one shot #loki oneshot #loki imagines #loki imagine #loki x reader #loki x you #loki angst #loki fluff #sucker for pain

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kerie-prince · 4 years ago

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butterfly fly away

Dad!Sirius Black x Reader (platonic)

requested: (anon) may i please request ( platonic ) sirius black x daughter ! reader where the reader is about to start another year of hogwarts but she doesn’t want to go because she’s worried something will happen to sirius and he’ll miss another 12 years of her life 🥺

warnings: none

summary: Now that you've reunited with your father after years of being in Azkaban, you're worried about his safety and overall well being when you start another year at Hogwarts (song inspo: Miley and Billy Ray Cyrus' Butterfly Fly Away)

a/n: uh this is me announcing that i'll be using the fancast for all marauder fics, ty <3 also what is it with me and making everything into a song fic? am i gonna stop tho? no

(gif cred)

Things were happening all too fast in your third year of Hogwarts. You found out that your best friend, Harry, is your fathers’ godson, your father had escaped Azkaban, and your friends found out that your Uncle Remus is a werewolf. You've known for a long time as he's raised you in stead of Sirius while he was imprisoned and your mother who had unfortunately passed when you were born.

It was hard to lie to your friends about your real name, especially during the course of the last year. That you're actually Y/N Black, not Y/L/N. But when Sirius’ name was cleared, the weight of the lie was a relief off your shoulders.

Your friends, especially Harry, were upset that you hadn't told them the truth but eventually understood where you were coming from. You kept going by Y/L/N for a while and only your friends, Dumbledore, and a couple professors knew of your true name.

Meeting Sirius for the first time since you were a baby was a shock. In the Shrieking Shack after following Ron to save him from the dog that dragged him in, Sirius met your gaze and immediately pulled you into a hug.

‘Let her go!’ Harry yelled, not knowing what was going on and thought Sirius would kill you first. He was about to stun him off of you before Professor Lupin ran in and disarmed Harry. You ran back to Harry and Hermione’s side when you were let go.

Sirius and Remus were talking amongst themselves and you heard your father say 'Let's kill him’ before Hermione started talking. She exposed Remus’ truth to Ron and Harry.

Then all the chaotic events followed. Snape was stunned by Harry, Ron’s pet rat was actually Peter Pettigrew and was the one who had actually turned the Potters in to Voldemort, and Remus turned into a werewolf. And in between all of that, Sirius said that once everything was all said and done, he’d take you and Harry to live with him and be a family.

And for summer, you were actually able to do that. Harry stayed with the Weasleys, which was better for you as you picked the biggest room at your father’s place in Grimmauld Place. Well… it's your place as well now. Remus even moved in and you felt at home. You never wanted to leave your fathers side. The whole summer was spent catching up the past twelve years with your dad.

When you read in the newspaper what had happened at the Quidditch World cup, you were beyond scared and worried for Sirius. He could be a person of interest to Death Eaters now that they were on the move again.

Hermione wrote to you that everyone was fine, but that Harry has been having nightmares for a good duration of the summer. He hadn't mentioned anything to you, but Sirius had. His reasoning for not telling you was to prevent you from worrying even more.

Now, there were three days left until the new school year started. You hadn't done any packing and your dad noticed. “Hey love, what’s going on? We still have to get your books. It will be my first time taking you to the platform. I know you must be used to it, but it’s our first time going as a family.”

“I’m not going. I sent an owl to Professor Dumbledore that I will be skipping out on this year,” you stated as it was normal.

“No, you’re not,” he had stood in silence for a moment, but when he said that, Sirius’s voice was stern. “Y/N, you have to go. School is important.”

“Being with you is more important,” you stood up from your desk chair in your room, “I don’t want to miss out on being with you anymore. Uncle Remus said it would be fine–”

“Remus isn’t your father, I am. You’re going, so start packing.” Sirius left your room and went to check on Kreacher about dinner. You groaned and jumped face down on your bed. You thought he would be happy to spend time with you, but it turned out to be a surprise to you that he isn't.

There was a knock on your door which got you out of your bed to see who it was. Unexpectedly, it turned out to be your best friends. You gave them each a big hug, “What are you guys doing here?”

“To see you, of course,” Ron pointed out. Harry was the last one to hug you and you held on to him the longest. “Your hair grew out,” you stated. He laughed in response. Kreacher came upstairs and looked disgusted at the sight of your friends, “Kreacher is here to tell Young Mistress Black and her… friends that dinner is served.”

“Thank you Kreacher,” you sighed. He was always mean to you and spoke ill about you and your friends to the portrait of your grandmother in the halls. Sirius explained that it was just from the views that his mother passed on to every house elf that served the House of Black. Sure enough, you heard Kreacher talking to the covered portrait and your grandmother saying something about a “blood traitor granddaughter.”

Remus and Sirius were talking in the dining room in hushed tones and stopped as the four of you walked in. Sirius sat at the head of the table with Remus to his right and you to his left. When you sat down, he leaned over and whispered, “Nice try, but Remus never approved anything.”

Dinner floated from the kitchen onto the table, ready for everyone to dig in. Of course, Ron was the first to grab food and ate as he had been starved for days. “I hope everyone is alright after the games ended,” Remus started.

“We've been better, but we’re fine,” Harry spoke. You squeezed his hand and smiled at him. Harry’s always been a good friend, almost like a brother to you and it’d break your heart if anything happened to him. You were sad about skipping out the new school year, but right now, you could only worry about one person at a time and since Harry has not only Ron and Hermione but the entire Gryffindor house and Dumbledore to look after him, he should be fine.

Your father just got you back and started living a normal life again. You couldn't miss that. Not again, and he shouldn't miss out on new memories with you.

“Are you all ready for school?” you could tell what Sirius was doing. They all nodded as they ate. Hermione talked about her classes and what she was excited for. “What about you, Y/N? What classes are you taking?” the curly headed girl asked.

“Y/N says she's not going to Hogwarts this year,” Sirius butt in.

“Why?” Harry had wide eyes when he looked at you.

You cleared your throat, wiped your mouth with the cloth napkin in front of you and explained, “I just want to get to know Dad better. A couple months of summer isn't enough.”

“But you can always write to him during school,” Ron added. Sirius gave you an ‘exactly’ expression. “C’mon, Y/N/N. I hear that this year is going to be really fun,” Hermione pleaded, “I can help you pack if you need help–”

“I'm not going!” you felt bad for snapping at everyone, but your mind was made up. “Well, why not?” Harry asked.

“Because I don't want to be gone if something happens to Sirius!” Everyone at the table looked at you. There was an awkward silence, the only thing you could hear was Ron chewing his food. You abruptly stood up and went upstairs to your room.

“Excuse me,” Sirius followed after. Your door was locked so he knocked on your door, “Darling, can you open up?” The door opened, and he walked in to see that you were laying on your side on your bed facing the other way. Sirius took a seat in the open space next to you and patted your arm. “Talk to me.”

You laid in silence waiting for him to say something again. A few minutes has passed and he let out a deep sigh, “What's going on?”

“I just got my dad back, and this summers’ been great. But I'm scared that when I'm having fun with my friends at Hogwarts, you'll be vulnerable with Death Eaters out loose again,” you still faced the opposite way. He tapped your shoulder in place of vocally asking you to face him which you listened. He pulled you in for a hug and felt you crying softly. He soothed your back and hummed slightly.

You pulled away and wiped the dry tears on your cheeks. “Darling, nothings going to happen to me. I’m perfectly safe and I have Remus here with me. You have nothing to worry about, okay?” you nodded in response. “I’ll write you everyday and let you know if anything happens. Harry, too.”

“Okay. I love you, dad,” you pulled him in for another hug.

“I love you more. Now let's get you packed.”

—

requests open!

#sirius black #sirius black imagine #requested #requests open #sirius black fluff #sirius black fic #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x platonic!reader #sirius x reader #sirius x you #sirius x y/n #harry potter imagine

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omgsomeonesomewhereonearth · 4 years ago

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your eyes look like coming home

The five times Patton asks Janus to marry him.

Moceit, childhood best friends to lovers💙💛

Content Warnings: alcohol, light angst

Aaa this is my first fic in a million years or something. It’s kind of short and maybe not my best work, but I’m honestly just happy to have written something lol - hope you enjoy!

AO3 Link

The first time Patton asks Janus to marry him, it’s a dare.

“Hi! Do you wanna be married?”

Janus stares blankly at the nervous-looking kid in front of him, fiddling with the sleeves of his grubby school cardigan as he stared back at Janus, through large, almost owlish glasses.

He’s confused for a second, then he looks over the kid’s shoulder, and sees the familiarly smug faces in the background, smirking and whispering like they’ve just seen something very funny.

He looks back at the kid – he’s new, just joined last week. Named Patrick or something. He didn’t seem like he’d be involved with the mean kids, with his big, nervous brown eyes and fidgety behaviour. His soft, round face holds a nervous grin as he looks earnestly back at Janus, who’s now glaring exclusively back at the ones watching them

“Why?” he finds himself saying, instead of no.

The boy – Peter? – flushes a little, looking at his feet.

“Um – well -I it’s er, it’s the game.” He gives the explanation like he’s asking a question, prodding the playground floor with his scuffed trainers. “We’re playing, they said – er, I need to find someone to say yes and marry me – but it’s just pretend though – and um, so…”

Ah, so they were both being made fun of.

“They don’t want to play with me.”

The boy’s face falls instantly. “Why not?” he asks, tilting his head to one side. Janus glances at the group, still smirking superiorly at him and – Paul?

“Because.” He snaps, not entirely unkindly, “Go find someone else to ask, or they won’t want to play with you either.”

The boy looks crestfallen for a second, but a look of determination overtakes his face, small mouth forming into a thin, angry line.

“Then I don’t want to play with them.” He declares with a toss of his curly head, sitting himself down next to Janus on the playground floor.

The flock immediately stops smirking, muttering furiously to one another.

“That’s not a good idea…”

“Don’t care.” The boy thrusts a small, chubby hand out at him. “I’m Patton.”

---

The second time, it’s a joke, but also a promise.

They’re sitting on opposite ends of Patton’s cramped twin bed, doing everything but the homework they wanted to meet up to solve, and Janus is pretending he’s not all too aware of their feet just barely touching each other.

“Hey, do you remember that time I asked if you would marry me?” Patton giggles, a sudden mischievous look taking over his face, dimples popping in and out as he looks back at Janus.

“Oh, you mean the first thing you ever said to me?” Janus replies airily, swelling with pride as Patton laughs even harder, scrunching his nose up in delight.

“You know, you never gave me an answer.”

Janus’s heart skips a beat. No it doesn’t, shut up .

His laugh is carefully nonchalant as he replies, “What do you mean?”

“Well, you never said! Would you marry me or not?” Patton laughs, “You’ve kinda left me hanging for years, if you think about it.”

He’s joking. This is a bit, Janus knows that. it doesn’t stop his traitorous heart from beating just that much faster as he smirks back.

“Sure, why not?”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Certainly, in like fifty years when we’re both old and lonely and we’re the only ones who can stand each other.”

He doesn’t believe it, obviously. He knows that he and Patton will always be together, but he doesn’t believe for a second that Patton won’t find someone, with his unbearable kind heart and his wide, honest eyes, and whoever it was would be damn lucky.

Patton laughs in delight at his response. “Ha! Sounds like a plan! Ooh – hold on!”

And then he’s jumping off the bed, going to rummage in his desk drawers.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Celebrating our engagement properly! Be patient!”

And then he’s kneeling next to the bed, smiling cheekily up at Janus, a length of pale blue ribbon in his hand.

“What is that?”

“Shut up, I don’t have a ring.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Hand!”

So, Patton ties the ribbon in a neat bow on Janus’ ring finger and kisses it quick before leaning back to gaze at him in satisfaction.

“There. Now you’re stuck with me no matter what.”

Janus doesn’t tell him that was going to happen regardless.

---

Neither of them likes to talk about the third time.

Janus shoves his way past the teeming crowd of drunk dancers, craning his neck to spot a crop of dark curls or a pastel jumper. Goddamnit .

He wasn’t supposed to leave Patton’s side, he had suggested coming out here tonight as a way of cheering Patton up, and it had been working, until he had walked in, complete with brand new attractive arm candy, and…

Fuck.

He finally finds him out in the empty garden, clutching a beer can that looks to be mostly empty, staring blankly at the sky. He’s not actively crying, but as Janus walks over, he can make out the tear tracks on his face even in the dark.

So he’s definitely seen them.

“Patton?”

“Hey, Janus.” His voice is subdued, and there’s a slight slur to the words.

“I’m so sorry, Pat,” He starts, “If I’d known he’d be here...”

“It’s ‘kay Jan, ‘m fine,” Patton reassures in a way that is not reassuring at all. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes and it’s painfully brittle, like it might shatter into a thousand pieces any minute. Recently, Janus has seen that smile a few too many times for his liking.

“Patton, no.” he replies firmly, but gently, “You’re drunk and heartbroken, and I’m at least partially responsible for that. I’m going to take you home.”

But drunk Patton is somehow even more stubborn than sober Patton can be at times, and he shakes his head resolutely.

“Janus, no.” he pouts, “ ‘m not that drunk, an’ ‘m not…not sad, an’ I don’t wanna go home.” He nods clumsily, having made his point, and then proceeds to stare blankly at the sky again.

Janus sighs.

“Well, then I’m drunk. And sad. And I need someone to take me home.”

Ever more attentive to other’s needs than his own, that gets Patton’s attention, the beautiful idiot that he is. Slowly, he nods and clambers to his feet, gripping Janus’ hand.

Neither of them drives, and Patton’s place is closer, so Janus walks them there, Patton clinging firmly to his side every step of the way. Janus can’t tell if it’s for balance or comfort.

When he gets them both inside the flat, Patton’s first words are, “Don’t leave.”

He gazes up at Janus with red-rimmed eyes, “I don’t like bein’ here alone.”

Janus’s heart aches at that, and he nods. He’d always found it hard to say know to Patton, especially when he’s like this, and especially when he asks for so little as it is.

Similarly, he can’t bring himself to refuse Patton’s beseeching gaze when he tucks him in and moves to sleep on the couch. So, a few moments later finds them in bed together, Janus staring at the ceiling and wondering how Patton can’t hear his heartbeat. They’ve shared a bed before, of course. But not in a long time. Certainly not since Patton started seeing him .

“I saw them, you know.”

He does know. “Really?”

“Mm. D’you think he loves him?”

Janus sighs, “I don’t know, Patton.”

“D’you think he loved me?” Patton’s voice is so soft, so resigned, so plaintive that Janus damn near breaks.

“You know I can’t answer that, Patton.”

“Sometimes I think he didn’t.” Patton admits matter-of-factly, “I tried so, so, hard, but he just didn’t. Ever. I wonder if anyone ever really will.”

There’s a scrap of faded blue ribbon tied on the end of Janus’ keyring that answers that question, but Janus doesn’t bring it up. He doesn’t have to.

“You know I know you’re not really drunk. Or sad.” Patton turns to look at him, his eyes gentle and frank.

“Yeah?”

“You’re jus’ lookin’ out for me. Like you always do. D’you remember that time I said we should get married when we’re all old an’ stuff?”

He doesn’t trust himself to speak. “Hmm.”

Patton smiles wanly. “I wish we could jus’ do that now. We’d jus’ have each other an’ it wouldn’ matter if no one loves me ‘cause I’ve got you.”

Their faces are inches apart and Janus has never wanted anything more than he wants to kiss Patton right now, to kiss his tears away and tell him he’d never be alone, because Janus wouldn’t let him – but he can’t. For a variety of reasons.

“Go to sleep, Patton.”

---

The fourth time, it comes out of nowhere.

It’s two – three? Some godforsaken hour of the morning and Janus has work tomorrow.

And for some reason, his delightful boyfriend has decided that it is a perfect time to be awake and shuffling around to sit up in bed, and turn his bedside lamp on.

“Janus?” he whispers his name like he thinks it might break in his mouth, and God, Janus loves him, but he needs him to shut up and go to sleep right the hell now. He doesn’t move or open his eyes, lying with his face half buried in his pillow despite feeling Patton’s gaze on his back.

“Janus, sweetie?” he whispers again, “Are you awake?”

“… No. ”

“I’m sleeping. Can’t hear you. Zzzzz…”

Patton huffs out a soft laugh. “I think we should get married.”

Janus stiffens. What? They’d barely been dating two months, they hadn’t even talked about marriage – at least, since they’d been dating. He had no idea it was on Patton’s mind, how long had he…

And more importantly, why was he bringing it up now?

Apparently taking his stunned silence to be outright rejection, Patton tries to backtrack quickly.

“I know, I know, it’s not been very long and I totally understand if you don’t want to because it’s too soon.” Janus feels a gentle hand rest itself on the blanket right above his shoulder, “I wasn’t really thinking of it either, but I couldn’t sleep just now and I couldn’t stop thinking, you know, about us, and you remember when we were kids, and all that stuff we always joked about, and how even though we’ve not been dating that long we’ve been together basically forever.”

He trails off, giggling self-consciously.

“And then you did something really cute in your sleep, you like, cuddled up to me and it hit me now I don’t think I ever want this to end.”

Janus finally sits up and faces the love of his life, who is looking back at him with a gaze that can only be described as besotted.

“I really love you, Janus. I want to be married to you.”

With a small, knowing smile, Janus leans forward and cups Patton’s face in his hands.

“Patton. Angel. Darling. Light of my life. I love you too.”

“I…”

“…And that is why I categorically refuse to let you propose to me while you’re wearing your Winnie the Pooh pyjamas. Please let me sleep now, and I promise I will say yes no matter how you ask me next.” And with that, Janus places a kiss on the end of his boyfriend’s nose, turns around, and falls asleep.

---

The fifth time is more or less perfect.

Well, he says more or less. Patton is perfect, in a neatly pressed pastel button-down, his curls bouncing in the gentle spring breeze despite all his valiant efforts to tame it.

Janus has made an effort to look his best as well, having had a feeling something special was coming. He hadn’t mentioned it of course, but with the way Patton had been jumping up and down in his seat as he drove them here, the way he had insisted on planning every aspect of this date himself – well.

Suffice to say his future husband had never been the best at keeping secrets.

The location Patton’s picked had certainly been perfect, atop a lush green hill with the kind of majestic cherry blossom tree you only see in romantic movies, pink blossoms practically dripping off its branches as they swayed in the wind, and beautiful rolling hills all around.

What isn’t perfect is when the two of them finally get comfortable on the hilltop, and Janus leaning against the wide tree trunk while Patton gets to unpacking the picnic he’s put together so meticulously, and it starts raining, almost instantaneously.

“I checked the forecast like three times, it was supposed to be clear skies!” Patton whines back in the car once they’ve finished packing up their things and run to safety, watching the light drips of rain get slowly heavier.

“I’m sorry dearest, I suppose the universe just doesn’t want this date to be.” Janus chuckles wryly, as he hands Patton’s dried glasses back to him.

“Eff the universe,” Patton grumbles, glaring adorably at the raindrop speckled windshield.

So, they play old love songs on the car music player and drink champagne and tuck into entirely too cute bite-sized picnic foods and talk and laugh and playfully flirt and point out constellations formed by the raindrops on the glass, and eventually, Patton stops pouting.

The conversation has slowly wound down and they’re quietly enjoying each other's company when he turns to Janus, taking a deep breath.

“God knows I’ve never been able to keep anything from you.”

“Why, whatever could you be talking about, my dearest?”

“…So, this probably isn’t a surprise to you in the least.”

Patton reaches into the picnic basket and pulls out a small box. It’s a pale yellow, tied in in blue ribbon.

“You’re my best friend, Janus,” his hands are steady, but his voice is already wavering, “You’ve always been here, my whole life, whether I need someone to help, or to talk to, or even just to cry at. I’ve loved you in so many different ways.”

Janus feels tears pricking at his eyes and blinks them away quickly; he refuses to miss a second of this, he wants the image of Patton’s earnest, loving face to be clear as day in his mind when he looks back on this whenever.

“..And I don’t ever want us to stop loving each other, so, hopefully for the last time ever, will you marry me?”

He laughs breathlessly and takes the box, delicately undoing the ribbon. It’s a cupcake.

A tiny, perfect cupcake with frilly blue icing, a golden ring in the shape of the tiniest coiled snake in the world, embedded in the icing.

“Do you like it?” Patton asks hopefully.

Janus surges forward to kiss his fiancé for the very first time.

Taglist: @ent-is-undecisive @disney-princess-patton

#moceit #patton sanders #janus sanders #ts patton #ts janus #sanders sides #ts fic #sanders sides fanfiction #patceit #patton x deceit #best friends to lovers #tw alcohol #tw drinking #my writing

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gaeilgeoirgay · 3 years ago

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SpideyTorch Week Day Three Alternate Universe

For Day Three, I chose an alternate universe in which our favourite couple are the villains! This one is a bit darker than usual, and there’s a mild instance of torture, that isn’t explicitly described near the end, so do watch out for that

Ao3 Link

@spideytorchweek

they don’t question our violence

“Hello, Spidey. Nice of you to swing by.” Comes a mocking voice from behind him. Peter almost swears, his Spidey Sense hadn’t even warned him, the traitor! Clearly it doesn’t think of Morning Star as a threat despite the fact Johnny has tried to kill him on several occasions. Maybe. To be fair, the Dock Incident was Peter’s fault and Morning Star hasn’t attempted murder in ten months, coinciding with the new depths of their relationship.

And it’s not like Peter is a complete angel either. The Wolf Spider is a name synonymous with death and blood- at least Morning Star tends to stick with arson. Peter is a mercenary, it’s not like he can judge his pyromaniac boyfriend.

“Hi, starlight. I have a job for us, and we get to explode the place afterwards.” Peter says, turning around to smile at Johnny, who perks up at the idea. He lets his flames fizzle out and lands next to Peter, who gratefully accepts the kiss he’s given. It’s freezing right now, and even the slightest bit of warmth makes a difference to Peter’s non-regulating self. There’s also the fact he’s kissing Johnny. That’s a big factor.

He turns fully around to kiss Johnny properly, taking care with his fangs so his venom doesn’t enter Johnny’s bloodstream. He rather likes his boyfriend and he doesn’t want to kill him. Johnny eventually pulls back to smile brightly at Peter.

“What’s the job, Fangs? I like the sound of it already.” He says. Peter beckons him up onto the vent protruding from the building they’re on, hopping up himself to swing his legs childishly. Johnny joins him, feet tapping impatiently.

“I met Remy Le Beau downtown a few days ago. He mentioned that there’ve been a few disappearances lately, mainly mutant children living on the streets that don’t appear on official records. I did some digging and it turns out there’s a lab set up in the Bronx that’s been experimenting on mutant kids.” Peter explains, scowling now. “Officially, it’s a gene lab where volunteers donate samples to be studied for cures to various diseases. There’s about twenty kids there now from what I can tell. Remy can’t blow it to hell himself without attracting attention to Xavier but if we free the kids and then happen to torch it, people won’t question our violence.” He finishes.

Johnny is frowning now too. “What excuse are we giving for the attack though?” He asks and Peter laughs. “That’s the best bit. We’re not giving an excuse, we’re telling everyone they were experimenting on children. Their encryptions are ridiculously bad and there’s already been a call for an inquiry into them by S.I. They’re subsidised by Oscorp and it’ll damage their stocks once it gets out that not only did they block the investigation, they funded the lab too.” He explains and Johnny grins.

“Two birds with one stone. Save the kids and piss off Green Goblin. I’m down.” He says and Peter stands. Johnny does too and Peter challenges him to a race across the city. They may be supervillains but they can still have fun.

The building is near deserted when they get there, other than a few dedicated workers and the overnight security guards. The employees aren’t aware of where their samples come from, only the top scientists know about the mutants and the security guards were never told they were guarding people instead of chemicals so they’ve agreed to leave them mostly alone.

Johnny silently melts a window on the top floor and they sneak into the building, avoiding the admittedly meagre defences.

They soon find a bright red door labelled DANGER and according to the blueprints that Peter acquired, the kids should be behind it.

They crumple easily under Peter’s enhanced strength and Johnny groans at the display. “I love it when you break metal with your bare hands.” He whispers and Peter smothers a laugh. They step over the ruined doors to find the kids in chains.

“Oh I can’t wait to set this place on fire.” Johnny growls harshly and Peter shushes him. There’s a computer terminal by the door so he plugs in a device he built himself that will copy the information on the mainframe to his personal store while deleting every other existing copy. He’ll probably delete his own copy once he goes through it, but he’d prefer to know if some sort of power-killing virus was made before he gets hit with it. Probably by Ross, may he die in agony.

The two of them set to work on the chains, Peter snapping them and Johnny turning them to molten slag. The kids are utterly silent, even when the two villains are reassuring them softly and Peter vows to hunt down every last disgrace to science that was involved in the lab.

Finally, the last chain clatters to the floor and all the kids are free. Remy had promised them assistance from two X-men who would be able to get the kids out of the lab so Peter and Johnny could get to burning it down.

They herd the kids to the window they broke in through and are met by the dark form of Archangel. The mutant’s normally pure white wings are covered in dark metal to blend in with the night but he’s still gentle with the children and they seem a bit less scared to see someone who’s so obviously like them.

Peter watches one little girl with red, scaly wings looking in awe between herself and the hero and smiles. He glances at Johnny and a thought comes to him. He wants that. Him and Johnny, with a kid each, maybe one girl and one boy or two of the same gender.

Hmm. That’s something to consider later. For now, he watches Archangel fly the kids one-by-one to a nearby safehouse where Nightcrawler is waiting to bring the kids to Xavier’s mansion the next morning. They deserve a good nights rest before moving somewhere completely different to everything they’ve ever known.

Archangel returns after the last child has been delivered to Nightcrawler and perches on the windowsill, regarding Peter and Johnny with a slight measure of respect.

“I met Nightcrawler in a mutant fighting ring. Neither of us wanted to be there but we never got the chance to escape. I got hurt and Mystique spirited him away but we never knew what happened to the ring. These kids though, they’re not gonna have that.” He plucks a metal feather from the edge of his wings, the edges razor sharp.

“Hurt those monsters and hurt them well. Maybe some of the more sheltered mutants at home won’t understand but I do. Slit their throats with that and leave them to choke. It’s more than they deserve.” Archangel says solemnly, rage glinting in his eyes. Peter exchanges looks with Johnny and then grins.

“Maybe heroes can’t be caught torturing people but there’s a reason I walk the other side of the line. We won’t make it quick.” Peter promises and Archangel returns the smile. Peter has no doubt that any scientists he and Johnny fail to find will turn up with mysterious wounds soon enough.

Archangel flies off to join Nightcrawler and Wolf Spider and Morning Star stalk back into the labs. The head scientists have been staying in a penthouse apartment above the labs while they run their tests and that’s their destination.

The elevator lets them up after a few key strokes from the Spider and they emerge into a wide-open space, the complete opposite of the small room the kids had been chained in. There are doors off of the main room and the Spider quickly matches them up with what he found in their database.

The third door to the right should belong to Henry Lawson, the torturer in chief. Morning Star melts the lock and they slip into his room silently. The bastard is sleeping peacefully in his bed but it won’t be long before that changes.

Morning Star fingers the metal feather Archangel gave them and slowly starts to heat it up. It’s made of strong stuff and even though the metal is glowing red it’s not metal. It serves as a rude wake-up call when it’s pressed to Lawson’s jaw.

He squeals like a stuck pig and the Spider thanks God for soundproofing. They’re nowhere near done with Lawson just yet.

An hour later, Lawson is thoroughly deceased and they move onto their next target. All six die painfully and Wolf Spider takes a twisted pleasure in it. Still, they have a job to do and they can’t spend as much time on their other targets as they did on Lawson.

Johnny plants his favourite explosives and Peter carelessly pulls the fire alarm. They find a good vantage point on the building across from the lab and wait until the last heat signature leaves the building and emergency services are seconds from the scene to trigger the bombs.

Johnny floats in front of the lab for a few seconds before he unleashes a torrent of flames into the already-blazing building. It only feeds the raging fire and Peter knows it will take quite some time to put it out, Not his problem. He’s too busy planning their next hits on the scientists that hadn’t lived above the lab.

Johnny lands on the roof next to him with a sharp exhale and Peter drapes himself over his back. “Twelve people left on the list, starlight. I vote we eat, have a fantastic night in bed and then brutally murder them all. Their dirty secrets are set to be released to the public in four and a half hours, just in time for the news cycle.” Peter says, tracing letters on Johnny’s back.

“You give the best presents, my Spider. I can’t wait to hunt.” Morning Star replies.

#spideytorchweek2021 #spideytorchweek #day three au #spideytorch #tw mild torture #tw violence #peter parker #johnny storm #warren worthington iii

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aegialia · 3 years ago

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self-indulgent reflection on being on tumblr

so i recently hit 1000 followers on here and this blog has existed for almost exactly 8 years, so i wanted to ramble about tumblr and my experience of it for awhile. under the cut so definitely feel free to ignore this.

i started this blog right around when i was fourteen and had just started high school. at that point, i was out to my parents (and no one else) as bi, i had an inkling i was Struggling with something but i had no idea what and felt like i couldnt actually acknowledge it, and i had left leaning but very vague politics. tumblr definitely has shaped my journey around sexuality/gender/mental health/politics, both for good and for ill.

for good:

seeing other ppl talk about being lesbians helped me realize i could be a lesbian w/o being a traitor to the concept of bisexuality. hearing trans ppl talk about their experiences and explaining non-binary stuff and dysphoria helped me understand what i was going through

i don’t like talking about my mental health stuff in detail on here, but suffice to say, i was Going Through it in high school. i’m still going through it now, but i am in a much better place (thank you medication and 7 years of therapy!). seeing ppl talk about the weird, dumb, awful parts of mental illness let me acknowledge that i was going through those things too, that i wasnt like evil for feeling like that, that i could change. people talking about adhd/autism was particularly helpful---being able to identify why i’d always felt like my brain just didn’t work right is the first step in the (ongoing) process of not hating myself for the way my brain works

politics is definitely the area where i think tumblr was the best for me. i got exposed to so many opinions i definitely wasn’t hearing in school, from intelligent, well-read people who could articulate theory in ways i could understand. tumblr didn’t give me my politics and i didn’t learn everything i know about theory from it, but the communities of people i was around pointed me in the right directions. tumblr was also a good place to learn how to react to criticism. this doesn’t seem to be most people’s experience, but getting called out over minor things on tumblr genuinely helped me learn how to take a step back, look at my behavior, apologize, and try to change, which, as it turns out, is a helpful skill irl as well

for ill:

wrt sexuality and gender, it’s probably pretty obvious someone who’s journey is ‘cis bi girl -> cis with a million different microlabels -> nb w a million different microlabels for both sexuality and gender -> nb butch lesbian who’s not super into romance’ would have some bad times on tumblr. the bi circles i was in made being a lesbian seem like an immoral choice, the ‘’’mogai’’’ (or whatever u wanna call them) circles made me feel like i had to divy up and perfectly label every aspect of myself in a way that really wasn’t helpful for me, the lesbian circles i was in made me feel like being a lesbian was about ending up in a monogamous butch/femme cottagecore relationship and that there was something wrong with me for not really wanting that. to be clear i think microlabels can be very helpful for people/a monogamous butch/femme relationship is a perfectly fine thing to want, they just didn’t work for me. im very very glad ive reached a point in my life where i dont feel the need to stay up to date on the latest discourse and am more focused on finding a way to exist that is comfortable for me and supporting my community irl. 10/10 would recommend to everyone

not going to get deep into it, but social media is. not good for my brain in general. i still enjoy using tumblr, but these days im pretty careful to step back from it frequently and treat it as an occasional hobby.

the cons of political stuff on tumblr are probably also very obvious. there are some just awful discussions on here and the culture surrounding the way we handle bad behavior and justice and accountability and working to become a better person and make up for the harm you’ve caused has historically been fucking awful and trying to unlearn it and find new ways to engage with this stuff is exhausting.

for all that i’ve changed over the course of having this blog, this blog has stayed pretty fucking static. i started out being super into diana wynne jones and the iliad and those are still two of my biggest interests and things i talk about the most on here. there are definitely specific things that have petered away (i started this blog almost entirely to keep up with good omens fan stuff and i pretty much haven’t touched it since the miniseries came out, i haven’t sought out pacific rim/supernatural/elementary/mcu content in years), but im still pretty much interested in the same things. i like relatively small fandoms, i like weird side characters, i like to be a grumpy child playing with my toys in the corner. when a fandom im in gets popular, i tend to stop engaging with it entirely (hello rqg/tma/good omens/enola holmes!). i dont think its a pretentious ‘i liked it before it was cool’ thing so much as a ‘people get Weird and awful when a fandom hits a certain level of popularity and there’s too much content and i really, really hate the bad faith arguments larger fandoms tend to spawn’ thing. i’ll consume content from big fandoms, but i pretty much refuse to actually engage with them at this point.

one of the stranger parts of my experience of tumblr is the social side. i’ve never really known how people make friends online---how do you go from liking each other’s posts and occasionally replying to them to actually being friends who communicate off social media? i’ve had conversations with ppl on tumblr and i’ve had sort-of friendships that are contained to tumblr where i’d like to get to know them better, but i’ve never figured out how to do that. my best friend’s job is pretty much to make friends/connections on the internet (she’s an activist and artist), my dad knows people everywhere in the world from twitter, and i’m just sitting here like a little old grandpa who doesn’t understand how you can have internet friends.

at this point in my life, i’m fine with this, but this has made me feel real fucking bad in the past---like, if everyone online, even the ppl who say they’re weird and brainbad in a similar way to me, can make friends on the internet, what’s wrong with me? particularly in high school and my first year of college, when i was just horribly lonely all the time, it made me feel super disconnected and like there was something fundamentally bad about me. these days, i’m a lot chiller about it. i use social media to engage with stuff i enjoy and share my thoughts about it. it’s okay that my social difficulties extend to me not knowing how to use the internet to socialize.

on a somewhat related topic, it’s wild that i have 1000 followers. obviously, that’s not an actually super large number and a huge number of them are probably bots or inactive. if you post consistently for eight years and follow lots of people, like i do, it’s not a surprise to end up with this many followers. it is also, thankfully, the sort of followers that are not fans. probably most ppl following this blog dont remember why they followed and dont know anything about me or my interests. this sounds like its meant to be depressing but it’s not. i like that my way of engaging w the internet lets me do pretty much whatever i want and no one will care. the mere concept of being. like. tumblr famous in any capacity, even just in one community/fandom, is viscerally horrifying to me.

i really enjoy the space i’ve created for myself on here. on one hand, going back through my blog is obviously embarrassing and full of hating my past self. on the other hand, i now have a very nice collection of things i enjoy in this blog. i like seeing what i’ve been interested in and (when i’m in a good mental health place) i like to be able to remember how i thought and talked about the things i loved when i was younger. im not at the place in my life where i can love a younger version of myself, but sometimes i can laugh at zir with a level of fondness.

i’ve always been paranoid about sharing details about my life on here (and the fact that my parents have always been able to see it certainly contributed), so the version of jack on here is a carefully curated version, who’s super enthusiastic about the things they love, was very conscientious about apologizing and trying to do better when ze messed up, and tried to be polite to others. that’s a younger version of myself that i’m closer to being able to have compassion for than the version i find in essays and poems and memories.

i’m starting grad school in ten days and i’m still using the blog i started when i began high school. tumblr has helped me in a lot of ways and hurt me in a lot of ways, but i still have to admit that it’s been a significant factor in shaping me. i’d be incredibly embarrassed to admit that irl, but it’s true. other than my family and like one friend, this blog is one of the only things that’s ‘known’ me since i started high school. i’ve changed so much in that time and im glad to have this weird little record of myself throughout those changes, even if i’d probably warn my younger self away from tumblr if i could go back in time.

tl;dr i have had a mixed experience on tumblr and i have mixed feelings about that experience. no idea if anyone read any of this very long, very rambling internet memoir

p.s. fun facts about this blog:

i’ve never changed my icon or blog title

i recently got a second version of the poster i got my blog title from. i chose my blog title by looking at what was hanging on the wall directly in front of me.

my original url was gloomthkin. this was not, as you’d probably assume, an otherkin thing. i had literally no idea what otherkin was at that point. i’d just learned the word gloomth from a bill bryson book and thought it would be cool n edgy to be the child of the quality of gloom. i changed my url after i learned what otherkin was and realized everyone probably assumed something about me that wasn’t true which i hated (not bc i had an issue w otherkin, just bc i don’t like ppl thinking untrue things about me)

during my good omens days, i once sent a tumblr ask to nail guyman which, in retrospect, was kinda rude. i stand by the content but id never send an ask like that now. he replied to it privately in a way that so deeply embarrassed and shamed 15 year old me that i’ve never gotten over it. i still get nervous and embarrassed when i see anything about him or his books

#gloomth and circumstance #this is definitely not required reading!#i just felt like rambling for a very long time about my feelings and my blog #w bonus blog trivia at the bottom that amuses me and probably no one else

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slyttherins · 4 years ago

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Unexpected flame (part 1) | Fred Weasley x Sirius Black’s daughter

December 1993

This year, Christmas fell on a full moon. Remus felt guilty about leaving Juliet for the holidays, but he had no other choice. Staying with her on a full moon was dangerous and endangering her was the last thing he - and Sirius - wanted.

''It's okay. You can't control the moon.''

''Wish I could.'' Remus flashed her a sad, apologetic smile. Although he had grown to accept his fate - or curse -, he still hated that part of himself. The wolf. ''Have you packed your bags yet? The train is leaving tomorrow morning, right?'' he asked, changing the subject.

''Yes.''

''Good.'' Remus nodded. ''I talked to Molly, she'll be picking you up at Kings Cross.''

In the red leather chair, Juliet sighed. Much like Remus, she didn't like when people made a big fuss or went out of their way for her. It made her very uncomfortable. ''I could've stayed at school, you know. Some students stay here for Christmas.''

Remus brushed her off with a whisk of his hand. ''Nonsense. Molly and Arthur promised it was no trouble. And, you and Ginny are good friends. You'll have great fun at the Weasleys','' he promised.

''I'll miss you.''

''Me too, darling.''

''Remus?''

''Yes?''

''If he returns-''

''I'll send an immediate owl to the Weasleys and let you know.''

Ginny by her side, Juliet joined the rest of the Weasleys after getting down the train. There were so many students at the station, but, lucky for her, their red hair were easy to spot in a crowd.

A round woman with a bright smile and ginger hair was waiting on the side. She greeted each of the kids with a tight hug, happy to see them after four months away from home.

''And you must be Juliet?'' she said, seeing familiar a pair of grey eyes. ''I haven't seen you in so long. It's crazy how you've grown!''

Juliet smiled politely, having very few memories of the woman. ''Thank you for having me, Mrs. Weasley.''

''It’s no problem. Remus is a friend of family and we’re always there for family. You can call me Molly.''

''You’ll be staying in Ginny’s room. It’s on the first floor,'' Mrs. Weasley announced when they crossed the Burrow's front door. She looked around, searching for her daughter who was a couple meters behind, struggling with her own bags. Why did she bring so much stuff? ''Ginny! Can you help Juliet set a bed? I've put extra blankets and everything you'll need on your desk.''

The younger Weasley nodded and grabbed Juliet's hand and led her up the stairs, excited to have a friend over and having a sleepover.

The room was small - not to say tiny - which was to be expected with such a huge family. The girls put their stuff away and set Juliet’s bed right by Ginny’s. It was a bit cramped, but it was only for a couple days.

Once everything was set, Juliet came back down and followed the yummy smell to the kitchen.

''Where's Ginny?'' Molly asked.

''Bathing. Neville wasn't sitting when the train took off and spilled pumpkin juice on her shirt,'' Juliet explained, shaking her head at Neville's mishaps. That boy was so clumsy!

''Well, come and sit. Dinner should be ready soon.''

Juliet pulled one of the many mismatched chairs and sat down. One of the twins was at the table, but she couldn’t tell if it was Fred or George. Hopefully by the end of the stay she’ll be able to tell them apart.

''So...you’re Black’s daughter?'' Fred asked as he subtly tried to steal some cookies that were cooling on the counter while his mother's back was turned.

Since Sirius' escape from Azkaban, it was difficult not to bring up her father every time Juliet mentioned her name. It didn't help that she looked so much like him. She had become well known over the past year despite Remus' attempt to hide her from the wizarding world. Not the magic, but people.

Although the Black family was part of the sacred twenty-eight and very high in the wizarding world's hierarchy, Sirius Black was considered a traitor. Therefore, as his daughter, Juliet was considered as so too. People could be so vile and quick to judge - even toward a fourteen years old girl.

Fred, though, didn't mean any harm.

''In the flesh,'' Juliet responded proudly.

''What does it feels to have a father on the run?''

''Fred! Don’t harass our guest,'' Molly warned, eyes on the cooking pot. ''And don't think I didn't see you stealing cookies.''

The two teenagers chuckled.

''It’s fine, Mrs- Molly. It doesn't bother me. I can handle the questions.''

''Well, you two can do that later. Dinner is ready.'' She turned to her son. ''Go get your father, he's in the yard studying another bizarre muggle invention he got his hands on.''

Fred left and she then proceeded to call out the rest of the kids, making Juliet jump. She had not expected Molly to have such a loud voice.

Seconds later, everyone stumbled in the kitchen, scurrying for seats. Ginny, freshly out of her bath, sat next to Juliet, telling her all about the delicious dish her mom had prepared tonight - and the desert. Ron arrived next, sitting on her other side and making a dash for the bread in the center of the table, taking a big bite and chewing like a cow. How charming.

''Apparently it's called a toaster. You put bread in it and it springs up when they are grilled and ready. It's bloody brilliant!'' Mr. Weasley explained as he walked in, Fred on his heels. He kissed his wife’s cheek and made his way to the table where all the kids were. ''Smells good in here.''

''I've never met him. Sirius. He was wrongly sent to Azkaban before I was old enough to remember him. I've only seen him in pictures,'' Juliet told Fred when he sat down beside his twin.

''Our father says he killed thirteen muggles and an old friend, Peter Pettigrew,'' Percy said, reaching for a piece of bread from the basket on the table.

''Percy...'' Mr. Weasley warned loosely.

''There is no proof. There was no body-'' the raven haired girl defended, only to be interrupted by Percy.

''Where is Pettigrew then?'' he asked with an eyebrow raised, scoffing when Juliet didn't respond. ''Sirius Black is a murderer. I hope the dementors find him very soon and put him back where he belongs. He deserves to rot in Azkaban for his crimes.''

Tears welled in Juliet's eyes at Percy's words and accusations, but she refused to let them spill. Was this what Percy really thought? Or was he repeating what he's heard from his father and other wizards?

''Percy!'' Molly scolded. ''That is no table talk.''

By 10pm, Ginny had already gone to bed, tired from the day. Juliet had been a bit bummed, but she stayed downstairs with the other Weasleys. Ron and George were disputing a game of chess in the living area, making the most of the time they had left before their bedtime. She had watched them for a few minutes, but then decided to get some fresh air.

She sat on the small wooden patio and raised her eyes to watch the stars, secretly hoping she could put her astronomy lessons to application. Since she was a kid, Juliet always loved looking at the starry night sky. It helped calm her mind. Maybe it was part of her bloodline? The Blacks had a penchant for astronomical names and took their names from stars or constellations. Even Juliet had carried on with the tradition. It was subtle, but Sirius had chosen the name very carefully.

''What are you doing out here?'' Fred asked, coming from behind. He had a thick sweater - most likely knitted by Molly -, shielding him from the late night air.

''Looking at the stars, although I can’t seem to find any stars I’m looking for tonight.'' Juliet frowned, disappointed and annoyed. ''I thought it'd be easy. I’m usually pretty fast at finding stars and even constellations in Astronomy class...''

''Ah! That’s because Professor Sinistra makes sure what you’re looking for can be seen from where you are. I'll help you.''

Fred took a seat beside her and looked up. He had never been an astronomy nerd, but he could recognize a few. Constellations were harder to find though.

The sky above the burrow was almost always clear which made it easy to see the stars. The view was even better from Ron's bedroom, being on the highest floor of the house.

Fred felt himself close having a crick in his neck when he finally found what he was looking for. A smirk curled on his lips. ''Can you see that one? Over the pond, right beside the Orion constellation.'' He pointed his index in the direction, helping the younger witch find her way in the night sky.

Juliet followed Fred's direction and nodded. ''The one that shines so bright it's almost blue?''

''Yeah. It's the Dog Star, also called-''

''Sirius,'' the raven haired girl finished with a smile, amazed by her new find. She had been trying to find her father's star for months, but Grimmauld Place wasn't ideal for stargazing and she didn't dare ask Professor Sinistra, worried she wouldn't help her because of the star's name.

''How did you know it was that one? Are you a secret nerd, Weasley?''

Fred shook his head, looking down with a small laugh. ''No. You should see my marks... But Bill, my older brother, had an astronomy phase a few years ago. He had a telescope in his room and all. From what I remember, the Sirius star is part of Canis Major which is a winter and spring star pattern. Sirius is the constellation's dog’s nose.''

''Thank you. For showing me this. It’s rare these days that when someone brings up my father’s name it doesn’t have murderer or criminal in the same sentence.''

''Sorry about what Percy said during dinner. He’s a git sometimes. Don’t listen to him.'' Fred didn’t have to apologize on his brother’s behalf, but wanted to, knowing Percy was stubborn and would never. Whether he believed Sirius was guilty or not, he didn’t have to be so cold and crude.

''Perhaps he’s right.'' Juliet sighed, putting her head in her hands in despair. ''I don’t know who or what to believe anymore.''

''It’s okay to be confused. The whole situation feels like it’s missing pieces of the puzzle,'' Fred admitted, platonically putting a hand on her thigh, trying to bring her comfort.

Juliet raised her head and stared ahead. ''If he didn’t kill Pettigrew, where is he? No one has seen him since that night at London. All that was left was his finger.'' The frustration and desperation were clear in her voice.

Fred wished he had answers for her, but he was just as in the dark as everybody else. ''What does Remus think of this?''

''That he’s innocent.''

When she turned old enough to understand what Azkaban was, Remus had revealed her father's whereabouts. He had insisted to be the one to break the news to her, not wanting untrusty wizards or loud mouths - or worse, students - to twist the truth. He told her about the Potters, about...Voldemort, and the wizarding war. Nothing was very jolly, but Remus insisted that she knew. Most importantly, that she knew her father had been accused of crimes he didn't commit.

Fred thought for a moment, putting his words together. ''Want to know what I think?'' She nodded, turning to look at him with her grey irises. ''I think Remus is the only person alive that knows Sirius well enough to judge your father's intentions and what he's capable of. I also think there a hidden part to every story.''

Juliet frowned, confused. ''I don't get what you're trying to say...''

''I don't think Remus would feed you lies solely to make your father look like a good man to your eyes. If Sirius really did kill those people, he would've warned you about him being the dangerous murderer the Ministry claim him to be.''

#fred weasley #fred weasley x oc #harry potter #fred weasley fic

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halothenthehorns · 3 years ago

Text

TLTNL- PRIORI INCANTATEM

Harry recognized that he was supposed to read next, and he was actually as surprised with himself as everyone else as he indicated he wanted his turn. There was something about what was fixing to come, some part of this nightmare night in the graveyard that, though the worst night of his adolescent life, held a meaning to him. It involved his parents, of that he'd known from the moment he arrived, and Harry wanted to be the one to regain the moment with his own words. So despite the fact that he had to let go of his hold on his mother and father, Harry took the book, straightened his back, and let the memories of that night come in without a fight.

Harry scrambled to find his feet to support his weight before the ropes were untied.

Lily groaned as she remembered Harry was injured on top of everything, that spider bite and his sprained ankle all on the same leg, there was hardly a chance of him properly dueling, let alone making a run for it.

Wormtail used his new hand to easily tear away Harry's restraints, and just as roughly pulled the material out of his mouth.

"Why do you call him that?" James demanded of Harry in a tone he'd never heard before.

Harry flinched at the near demonic look in his dad's eye, but explained himself calmly enough. "Because that rat deserves that nickname, it's the only way I've ever known him as that traitorous word."

The Marauders disagreed, thinking that backstabber didn't deserve a single thing they'd ever given him, and that name was one of the most important ones to them. However, they could see Harry's side, he'd never known Peter the person, but the man who'd gotten his parents killed while using that name.

Lily still wondered why Voldemort did, but she thought Harry had said it unintentionally. Voldemort had made it clear that while he rewarded Pettigrew for the help he'd given, Voldemort wanted to constantly remind him of what he'd lost. Using that nickname every time was rubbing salt in the wound, a slap in the face every day to remind him of what he'd once done.

Harry knew how much this hurt them every single second to be reminded of who they were hearing do this to him, but he couldn't see how using a different name would actually make it better as he forced himself on.

The moment he landed, his first thought was to try and run, but that was made impossible as his damaged leg shook beneath him, and the Death Eaters closed ranks. Just beyond them, Wormtail was returning with Harry's wand, which he roughly gave back without looking at him.

Lily noticed for the first time that this seemed to be a common thing, the rat hadn't been looking at Harry all night it seemed. She hoped it was because he couldn't stand to see what he was doing to Harry, and to James through it, but most likely it was his own shame for his cause in this, always his own feelings first before he'd let himself think of others.

Harry had no choice but to turn back and face Voldemort as he asked if Harry had ever been taught to duel.

"I don't think watching Snape blast Lockhart across a room should count," Remus muttered. He'd been trying to come up with an escape plan for Harry since he'd arrived, and dueling his way out was very bottom of the list for the poor kid.

Harry distantly remembered once attending a dueling club, where the only spell he'd learned was Expelliarmus.

Harry felt an odd swooping feeling flow through his chest. He'd felt something for that spell the moment he'd first seen it used, and now even his own thoughts trying to mock him for how useless it was didn't quite cover the hope that was trying to bubble in him now, he was certain he'd found his solution.

What good would that do him, even if he did manage to disarm Voldemort he was outnumbered thirty to one.

"Thirty?" Sirius yelped in concern. "I'd only counted seven besides Voldemort."

Harry gave him a look of exasperation, the point still stood of how outnumbered he really was. It was that expression he was giving his godfather, 'really, you're pointing that out now?', that somehow managed to convince Sirius to smile back. He could see that Harry was still only just below panicking levels of the situation he remembered being in, but for just a moment he'd turned and talked to him like this was all normal, something they all needed.

He had never learned anything that could possibly fit him for this.

"I don't think anybody's actually trained for that situation," Remus agreed, "Dumbledore himself would feel a little trapped."

"You really are something not to just be on the ground begging for your life," James agreed without a hint of mocking.

He knew he was facing the thing against which Moody had always warned,

Harry said Moody's name a bit odd, certainly not in the normal way he had before this, but even he didn't seem to notice he'd done it, and it was such a small thing nobody paid much mind.

Avada Kedavra, and more unprotected than the first time where his mother had died to protect him from it.

Lily honestly wished that would quit being mentioned so much, for no matter how true it was she'd do the same every time, it hurt all the more she never could again.

Voldemort took it upon himself to tell Harry what to do, saying first they were to bow to each other.

"I hate formalities," Sirius sneered, "no one ever actually bothers with that kind of mess when your life's on the line."

Dumbledore would want him to show his manners.

"I don't give a damn what Dumbledore would want," James seethed, "he needs to stop talking to you like this."

Since Harry wished Voldemort would stop talking to him period, he agreed.

Harry was told to bow to his death.

Despite the monster trying to claw its way out of Harry's chest, screaming for him to run away from this, there was also a surreal moment tucked in there where Harry realized he wasn't dead, hadn't died this night. Instead he got something infinitely better for his night of misery.

Voldemort smiled at him then, like a cat playing with its dinner, but Harry refused to move. He was not going to let Voldemort taunt him into this before he died.

James didn't care if it went without saying, he never grew tired of telling his son he was proud of the way he was taking this, and the small smile he received in that moment never dimmed no matter how many times he saw it.

Voldemort wasn't having that, his wand appearing and an invisible force bending Harry's spine into the mockery of submission, while the Death Eaters around him laughed all the harder.

Remus was remise that he had no clue what spell that was, as he'd have loved to do the same thing to Voldemort as just the start of the retribution he'd get for doing this to Harry.

Sirius was just pleased Harry had stopped taking note of every little thing that rat had been doing. He wasn't sure what would have hurt more, to know he was laughing along, or to see him simply standing there, watching and doing nothing.

Voldemort released him and Harry immediately straightened back upright, and Voldemort gave a cruel grin again as he praised this, saying how Harry was going to die proud, straight-backed like his father.

James watched his two friends shake automatically as that was mentioned again, and he couldn't blame them, he knew he'd have felt the same way if that was constantly brought up about one of them. He wanted to say something, offer up some word as a promise to his brothers, but the words failed him as he replayed that last moment again in his head, what he'd died trying to protect. Somehow, he still couldn't hate the way his life ended, even if it was leaving those behind.

Done with his fun, Voldemort raised his wand and began the duel, by again hitting Harry with Curcio.

Harry's voice wasn't coming out in any way normal as flashes of remembered pain from that curse came pouring back over him, but he forced himself to press through that, because there was something more precious to him that happened this night, and it was another kind of pain, but almost a good kind.

Harry's scream of misery couldn't define the pain his body was in, falling to the floor again and writhing in place, when it stopped as suddenly as it had started.

James was now convinced his life was going to end any moment now the longer he had to listen to that curse being placed on his son, the thought of what had happened to Frank and Alice now weighing on him worse than ever. He could not just sit here and picture this being done without doing something!

Harry rolled back to his feet at once, but it was in no way intimidating, as he stood trembling as much as Wormtail had before his hand had been replaced.

James hadn't meant for that something to snap at Harry, "Don't you ever compare yourself to that thing!"

"What can I say, the memory sort of stuck with me," Harry muttered back without looking up.

Voldemort crooned to him if he wanted a break, asking if Harry wanted some breathing room before that was done to him again. Those pitiless red eyes watched his progress, death promising in the slits.

Harry was now more glad than ever he was the one getting this out, distorted words they were in his own voice from remembered pain, as a solemn reminder to those around him that at least that one thing hadn't been true that night.

Harry knew what he really wanted, to see him beg, which was not going to happen.

Considering Lily had mostly been in a state of the worst anger of her life with the situation Harry was in, she didn't think she'd told him enough how proud she was of her young man, and the answering gleam she saw in her own eyes imaged into his face was the best feeling in the world.

Voldemort grew impatient when he didn't get his wish, demanding Harry answer him, and using the Imperius Curse.

Remus wasn't sure if that was full blown hysteria trying to crack through as he felt his lips twist in a smile, for the irony of their griping about Moody putting this curse on Harry for the good it could do, and look how right that mad old Auror was.

Harry felt, for the third time in his life,

"Only the third time?" Sirius was sure that was his ears cracking, not his voice as he forced out anything like a mocking tone for this. "Moody placed that on you a ton more times to make sure you threw it off completely. You never even gave us that number."

Harry gave an unhelpful answer of muttering about how his mind hadn't exactly been going for specifics at a time like this, not wanting to put Sirius down when he'd been trying to help. It wasn't assisting his own mind that recently every time Moody's name had been mentioned he felt an even sharper poke to his conscious, which had been paining him more and more since he'd arrived here.

as everything melted away, leaving him the happiest he'd been in his life as all the worry and pain evaporated, all he had to do was answer no.

A firm voice snapped right back, that still wasn't happening. He wouldn't answer!

Even though James had already watched Harry pull this off once, this ranked right up there with his Seeker skills of impressive abilities. Moody in a classroom was one thing, not that he'd expect the man to go easy but still. This was Voldemort behind that curse, and Harry was still fighting back!

The battle didn't last long, before Harry threw the curse off altogether.

Silence rung in the graveyard, no one was laughing now.

"You show those pushovers what it's really like to stand up to that pompous idiot," Sirius nodded sharply.

Voldemort stood there for a long beat in surprise, his Death Eater's as frozen in shock.

"I'm sure they're all wondering why they never bothered to grow a spine and do that," Remus muttered.

Voldemort whispered to Harry that in not answering, he was disobeying. Obedience was a virtue that every man should learn before death, and Voldemort offered more pain should teach that lesson.

"Well now he's just being a hypocrite," James forced an eye roll, forced just one small second of a joke. "I'm sure Dumbledore's told him to stand down and he's never done it."

"Right, don't do what Voldemort does, I'll keep that in mind," Harry genuinely grinned at him.

Voldemort raised his wand again, but this time Harry was ready as his honed Quidditch skills flung him aside behind a gravestone, the crack of the spell missing sending shards everywhere.

"There's my boy," James whispered to himself, the image of Harry flying proud in the sky was one he'd envisioned since he'd first held his son, now instead of a broomstick those reflexes were being used to save his life.

Voldemort mockingly called to him this was not hide-and-seek as he continued approaching,

Harry felt himself flushing as he got that out, and it wasn't hard to realize that Harry felt ashamed of what he was now telling them he'd done. James wasn't going to stand for that, giving Harry a friendly nudge as he promised, "no one on earth could fault you for trying to catch your breath Fleetfoot."

Harry did look around at him in surprise for that, and James shrugged without remorse. "I found I'm partial to that for your Marauder nickname, covers all the bases really."

Harry's face stayed red, but for a completely different reason as he turned back to the book, more pleased than he'd ever been in his life for his dad actually insisting upon this as more than a joke, especially after another nickname he'd once endowed kept stabbing him in every way possible.

his soft voice calling for Harry to come back out, he'd end this game now. Voldemort could not promise it wouldn't hurt, he had never died.

"I'm pretty sure during the time where you didn't have a body, you were some classification of dead," Remus grumbled.

"Wish he'd stayed that way," Sirius quietly agreed.

Harry only remained crouched where he was for a few beats more as reason came back to him. He was no more going to sit here cowering than beg for his life. His muscles were already springing to his command, prepared to die upright like his father.

"I'd rather you not die at all," Lily murmured to herself, but aloud for her son's ears, "least you really did get the best parts of your father."

"There aren't any bad parts of me for him to get," James forced out just to simply pitch his voice into the conversation, he couldn't stand watching Sirius and Remus' face when they heard that any more than it felt right for his own ears to process.

Harry was back around before the next taunt could be given, shooting the spell for his foe, Expelliarmus,

"That's really the spell you went with?" Sirius shook his head affectionately, his long hair falling into his face to avoid his too wet eyes.

"Can't even fault him for it," Remus sighed, his voice coming out a bit too thick which no one blatantly noticed. "What better way to get out of this than to disarm the lot of them."

at the same time Voldemort cried Avada Kedavra.

"Not my son you bastard!" Lily howled in outrage, her wand the only thing steady in her as every part of her was telling her to block that curse from being near her baby.

Green met red in midair, but then the two colors merged into one, and Harry's wand began vibrating in his hand that he could not unclench.

"Err, that's not supposed to happen," Remus muttered uselessly. When two spells met in midair, they ricochet off each other, so one should have hopefully killed a Death Eater, preferably a pathetic rat among them, and the other should have disarmed one while Harry tried to break out of the ranks.

The color was now one thin narrow beam keeping the two wands connected, a deep gold.

One glance up showed Harry that no one around him had any more clear idea of what was going on than he had at the time, but whatever it was, this was the moment he'd been waiting for. Once Cedric had died, he'd shut down and hadn't been able to think of anything else until Voldemort had cut him free, where the very feeling he'd felt had now been trying to rise to the surface. Harry leaned just that little bit more into his parents, for some unearthly reason, almost excited to continue.

Voldemort's unpigmented face showed just as much shock, his own hand clearly trying to break this connection but having no more success, and then it got stranger.

The two were lifted off their feet by seemingly nothing, and carried away from the graves into a clear area before gently being set back down.

Sirius was mouthing wordlessly as he tried to wrap his head around this, tried to even vaguely pull a piece of information from his deflating brain on what could be happening, but there wasn't a speck.

The Death Eaters ran after them, shouting for instructions on what to do, most drawing wands.

Lily may not know what was happening, but she suddenly wasn't as sure she liked it. At first it had seemed some cosmic force was actively trying to save her son, taking him away from that unholy place, but now locked like he was, he had no way to defend himself from the other wands that could just as easily kill.

The deep ichor color keeping them connected was continuing to act all on its own, thin cords shooting from it and soon encasing them in a dome that the Death Eaters cries could not come through.

James wished he had a clue what was being done to his son, but so long as it actually seemed to be helping him he couldn't find the urge to complain about it. Was this odd, never before heard of magic the way his son survived this night? If so, he'd go out and learn it right now.

Instead all Harry could now hear was a noise he'd only heard once before, but something precious to him that filled him with warmth, phoenix song.

"Is, Fawkes going to show back up, or-" Remus struggled to get out a coherent thought, but that didn't make sense. Harry hadn't done anything grand like he had before to summon Fawkes to him, though now he thought about it that would have been a good idea to get the bird to try and summon him away. Not the point, and no one had an answer for him, Harry had only paused in shock before gathering himself back enough to keep going.

It was the sound of hope, and it gave Harry new resolve to do everything in him not to break this connection.

Lily was running her hand through his hair for as much comforting him through what he was reading as a warming to herself to remind her where her baby was. This still wasn't a particularly good thing happening, but finally it was a new moment, something shining down promising hope was coming.

The moment he promised the music he'd do no such thing, the harder it became to do.

Sirius longed for a time where he could have been hearing about this and laughing, Harry talking to music, and then of course what he'd just described felt like it described life. All he was really thinking on though was how much he desperately wished he was there with his pup, when he needed someone now more than ever.

His strip of wood was now vibrating so hard in his hand it was a wonder it hadn't disintegrated yet, and still something new was happening. Beads of light were appearing in the center of their merged stream, and they were slowly heading towards Harry's wand. The closer they got, the harder his whole arm shook.

Because this wasn't confusing and weird enough before. They'd all worn out of shock by now, so instead they were trying to comprehend what purpose this could hold, how and why this was happening to their Harry.

Some instinct, whether the song or some innate feeling, told Harry that what he needed was for the opposite, so concentrating harder than he ever had on anything in his life, his mind focused on those little beads, and slowly but surely, they began reversing course, and were now going for Voldemort's wand.

Now Harry could feel his own voice rising with strength, some powerful moment about to return to him, almost a peace settling over him as something of the warmth he was surrounded in now was leaping eagerly to return to his mind.

Voldemort looked almost as astonished as he did fearful.

"Congratulations Harry, not many people can say they made Voldemort piss himself moments after his rebirth," Sirius murmured.

It happened after such a tiring mental struggle Harry nearly sunk to the ground again in a new kind of pain, but finally the beads connected with that strip of wood, and Voldemort's wand began trembling harder than ever as screams of pain echoed from its contents, and a smoky fist arose from within, the ghostly image of the hand he'd created for Wormtail.

Remus choked as he realized what was being described, yet Prior Incantato certainly didn't have this magical property normally, so even just guessing that this could be a form of what was happening didn't help him at all.

The wand wasn't done yet, as the next thing to arise was even bigger, more solid and dense as first a gray, misty head, then a torso emerged, before finally Cedric Diggory stood before them.

Lily felt a whole new swell of emotion blooming in her as she heard of that poor young man who'd been simply tossed aside, and now making an appearance like this. His whole future ahead of him, gone, but now what was this? Good or bad?

Cedric took in the scene around him, and Harry couldn't quite tell what he was, not entirely a ghost as he looked too solid, but it spoke to him in his same voice, telling Harry to hold on.

Harry couldn't imagine how anyone else was processing this, he certainly was having a hard time getting past his own wonder. For just that one moment, Cedric was back, he was alive and hadn't suffered for Harry's existence. His throat almost swelled shut right then, as for a moment he thought this was his reward for suffering this night, Cedric being spared just a few more moments of life, but no. There was something soft resonating in him, gently encouraging him on.

Voldemort had no more knowledge of what was going on than him, fear tracing his scarlet eyes as he looked upon the being.

Remus would have been far more concerned if Voldemort had understood what was going on, as that couldn't mean it was anything good. Instead, he couldn't explain even to himself, but he was almost eagerly listening to Harry, his every being exuding that they should all be feeling this way.

Still the magic was continuing, as another was already forcing itself out as well, an older man who emerged just like Cedric and stood beside him, leaning on a walking stick as he took them both in. His first thought as he caught sight of Voldemort was to say his surprise of how he had been a real wizard.

James was surprised when he felt an honest smile flit across his face, that old man really had been something in his last moments, and like Cedric, it felt like a miracle he was being granted any extra time, no matter how mind blowing this feat of magic was.

He turned eyes on Harry next and gave the same advice, to keep fighting and don't stop. Though Harry had no intentions of doing so as yet another figure was coming out, and soon Bertha Jorkins stood among them.

Sirius was surprised at the burn that ran through him. He knew so many people from his school years set to die, and even just a random girl he'd never even liked being presented in this way still managed to set him off.

Her conviction was the same as the men, insisting to Harry that whatever he did, not to let go!

James shook his head for a moment as he considered, really stopped and thought, about what was going on. Harry was getting encouragement from a ghost against Voldemort!

The three figures began prowling their circumference of the golden enclosure, in opposition to the Death Eaters doing the same on the outside. They would whisper more encouragement to Harry as they passed, and hiss something unheard to Voldemort when near him.

"I can guarantee they weren't nice," Lily sneered.

Harry took a moment to stop, and just stare at her with a new smile they'd never seen before, and it was that look that suddenly had Sirius realizing just what exactly order these magical ghosts were appearing in, and why Harry could conceivably be happy for any of this...

Now more than ever Harry had no desire to make this stop, as he watched another coming through the wand, the woman he'd thought about more tonight than any other. Lily Potter materialized before him.

Lily and James were crying, and not even bothering to hide it. They didn't see the point as they now understood what Harry was seeing for the first time in his life, their echo, their shadows, but it was still more of them than even that mirror or any picture could hold.

She whispered to him his father was coming,

Harry felt something warm curling tight in his heart and promising to never leave as he heard his mother's first words. He had never considered his dementor memory as counting, as his parents last dying words were more heart aching to think of than something like this.

just hold on a little longer.

Her words rang true, as the final man to emerge, James Potter blossomed between them.

"I knew it," Harry whispered, unable to express into words how much it meant to him he was really seeing them now, as before he'd come here this was as close as he'd ever get to them.

There was hardly an inches height difference, their features so similar it ached as James looked him in the eye, and explained that once the connection broke, they would only linger for a moment. Harry had to use that time to get back to the Portkey, it would get him back to Hogwarts.

It really did feel like this was zapping the life out of Remus to hear about, because thinking about James as anything other than the Prongs huddled into his family right now, alive and breathing through a heavy chest but still as solid and alive as he'd always been. Still Remus' first response was to poke at his friend's comment, just like he always did to keep him on track, and ask what on earth that Cup was going to do, why would it be set as a two way Portkey? He couldn't get the words to actually move past his lips, it was too heart wrenching to even consider James in this way to move past it and say anything else.

Harry promised he understood, his own wand beginning to slip out of his fingers regardless to show he couldn't have held much longer.

Harry almost hated his wand in that moment, for forcing him to think of anything else other than drinking in as much of them as he could. It was enough to drown out another powerful feeling trying to remind him that though this was the most precious memory he had, it may not be the only one like it.

Cedric got in his final words as well, asking Harry to take his body back with him.

Harry wished that he could instead be living in a time where he could brush that off as a joke, like he'd ever leave any part of Cedric behind for the Death Eater's to do anything with, instead this came out as solemnly as his parents first words to him.

Harry swore he'd do this, and his father's voice urged him to break the connection, now!

Harry obeyed, with the hardest pull he'd ever had to do in his life the wands broke free, and Harry spun on the spot and ran like he never had before. The shadowy figures remained for a few moments longer, swarming Voldemort and blocking Harry from view.

Sirius made a wretched noise, rubbing at his streaming nose as he tried to get out, "see, not even your own graves could stop you helping him out." He'd meant it for James, and there was most certainly some form of happiness resonating in him for that being true.

Lily hummed in agreement, her hands never stopping the motion of curling through his hair. Her throat to restricted to get out anything more articulate until he was really away from that place.

Harry broke through the stunned rank of Death Eaters, took no notice of any of his injuries as his feet flew over gravestones and zigzagged a pattern around any oncoming spells.

From behind, Voldemort demanded he be stunned.

Harry could practically feel the mad adrenaline pumping through his veins again, his mind sprinting as fast as he'd forced his ungainly feet to move, and the others were so tight and desperate for Harry to be free now none of them would have questioned why Voldemort hadn't bothered to send that curse rather than telling someone else. Could it be because he longer trusted his own wand to do the deed? There was something significant in that train of thought, but Harry wanted to be done with his chapter already, so that he could set this book aside and really hug his parents again in gratitude for what they'd done for him even one more time.

He made it to Cedric's body, but the Cup still lay ten feet away. Harry couldn't carry Cedric, but his pursuers approach would be upon him in moments. Harry twisted on the spot and met the red eyes of Voldemort one last time as he cried Accio, summoning the Triwizard Cup to him.

James felt a wild gasp of relief finally escape him, watching Harry finish off the last few lines with gratitude so he could just stop, and think for a minute!

The silver cup was caught in his hand, and Voldemort's scream of fury was drowned out with the howl of wind carrying him away.

Harry snapped the book shut hard, and then proceeded to hug both of his parents to him as tightly as he'd ever been able to in his life.

James still hadn't even begun to fully process everything he'd just heard about the night of Voldemort's return, he was still too busy clinging to his only child and his wife to think past much of anything except for the fact that he never wanted to let go of either of them. That night could have so easily gone wrong, Harry could have never been here now, but instead would have remained like Cedric, dead and lost to the rest of the world forever. Whatever that magic was that had saved him, somehow his miracle had been granted, and he had finally been able to do just one thing for Harry, even beyond the grave. Later he could question how his ghost or whatever had even known the way to get back, later he would think about how that had all come to pass, later...

#The LIfe that Never LIved #Harry Potter #HP #GoF #Marauders #Jilly #reading the books #fanfiction #James Potter #remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter

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dragonologist-in-the-making · 4 years ago

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Hey babe, can you write something about Sirius x reader!Hufflepuff (she’s very sweet and kind) Where they are together But when it’s full moon, and Sirius and the Marauders left Hogwarts A group of 6 year of slytherin they decide to annoy and curse her and when Sirius returns the next day he gets so mad that he goes to the Slytherin common room to take revenge End fluff and soft Pleaseeeeeee I love your work

Title: Curses

A/N: thank you for the request and your lovely words!! I hope I did this justice for you! Also I don’t think it’s known when Professor Sprout started teaching/became head of Hufflepuff but she went to school at roughly the same time as McGonagall so I took a liberty in assuming she might be the head of house in marauders era too? I also don’t think the timing of this really works out but lets just pretend it does for my sanity? Thank you.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: one swear word, reader gets cursed but with nothing life threatening. Not proofread so my poor grammar.

Requests are still open!

As you walked into the Great Hall for breakfast, you quickly scanned the room, smiling once your eyes settled upon the tightly knit group all sat together, one seat left open for you. You waved to the friends from your own house, but quickly moved towards the Gryffindor table, sitting down next to your boyfriend Sirius, who made sure that his arm was wrapped around your waist and his lips were on your forehead in no time.

“Good morning, love.” You smiled brightly at him, as you started pulling some food onto your plate and pouring yourself a drink. Greeting the rest of the marauders (plus Lily Evans, although by this point you could both be considered honorary members), you tuned into their conversation, which happened to be their plans for the night ahead. The night of the full moon, where they would all go to help Remus through his monthly transformation. You thought it was brilliant that the boys helped him, and you made sure to remind Sirius how highly you thought of his actions every time the full moon came around, but that didn’t stop the hours you would spend worrying in your bed when they were gone, just hoping that none of them would be beaten up too badly when you saw them the next morning.

Because of this, Lily had taken it upon herself to spend these nights together with you, so you could both have something to do to distract yourself, or at least someone there who understood what you were going through if you couldn’t. It was at her words that your head turned away from your food, as she directed her words towards you.

“So, (y/n), whose common room is it tonight?” She asked, her fiery red hair pulled up into a casual ponytail and her inquisitive eyes not as bright as they usually were. They always dimmed on this day.

“I think yours might be best. Everyone in Hufflepuff is still celebrating from the win against Ravenclaw yesterday.” You said, referring to the Quidditch match you had all been to watch the day previous. The party had been great, you spent all night laughing and dancing with your friends until Professor Sprout had entered the common room in the early hours of the morning, threatening you all with detention unless you went to bed. It was fun, but hearing the whispers of a second party tonight, which you knew would at least be attempted, just wasn’t something you thought you could put up with.

“Gryffindor it is!” She beamed, and you thought how grateful you were to have Lily on these nights now. They had been incredibly lonely before she had given in and given James his part, and it had clearly worked out well enough for her to be in on Remus’ secret too, and it meant that you had another girlfriend who fully understood your life, knowing all the secrets you had to keep from your other friends. “I’ll meet you outside when the boys head off, so I can let you in.”

…

You arrived outside of the portrait of the Fat Lady just as five people were clambering through to get out. Seeing Remus look worn out already, you went and hugged him, whispering how you would see him tomorrow with a whole array of chocolate treats from the kitchen. Saying a quick goodbye to James and Peter too, you wished them safe and turned to Sirius. You fled into his arms, holding him tightly around the waist as he did to you too, stroking through your hair reassuringly. You pulled away, knowing this wasn’t the time to be wasting time, pressing a short but firm kiss to his lips, a push of your love onto him.

“I will see you in the morning.” You stated, more of a threat than a promise of a visit.

“You will see me in the morning.” He reassured, one hand still in your hair as the other caressed your cheek.

“And you will have no more than a few minor scratches.” You told him, knowing it was something he couldn’t really help, just as he knew that he could come back with a relatively serious injury and you would never be angry at him or at Remus, you would just take a moment to curse the world before rushing to heal him up and not stray from his side until he was better.

“No more than a few minor scratches,” He confirmed this time, snapping into a rigid position with his hand to his forehead in a salute. He relaxed as you rolled your eyes, leaning in towards you one last time. “From Remus, at least” he winked as your cheeks lit up, smacking his chest as you couldn’t quite meet his gaze, resulting in his laughter booming across the corridor. You pushed him away towards his friends, encouraging them to go, and with one last kiss and statements of your love, the four boys were gone, leaving you and Lily.

“Well, I guess we should head in then.” Lily sighed, telling the password to the portrait before you both clambered through the hole. You had learnt from experience that trying to do some homework in this time was near impossible and was always so poor that it had to be redone at a later date anyway, and so you used these nights as a break, a time to play some wizard’s chess, exploding snap, or just sit about and exchange the gossip you had heard from around the castle.

After a few hours you stretched, feeling tired as the warmth of the fire had been washing over you for hours. Standing up, you smiled at Lily. “I should go, curfew is getting pretty close and the last thing I need is to be found out of hours.” You said, smiling ruefully, not wanting to leave her company but knowing you didn’t have much of a choice. She hugged you goodbye, saying that she would see you in the morning. Climbing out of the portrait hole, you walked quickly back to your own common room, not wanting to spend too long walking around the corridors.

You were walking through the entrance hall, having only passed a couple of stray students also heading back to their common rooms before they were caught out, when a cold voice rang from behind you, calling your name. Fear washed over you, but you decided stopping would do no good for you, and so you continued on your journey, quickening your pace.

Quickly, before you even knew what was happening, you heard the words “Mucus Ad Nauseum” being shouted from behind you, and you felt the force of a spell hit you squarely in the back and you stumbled slightly in your step as you immediately felt your head grow heavier and your throat tighten. “This is what happens when you date a blood traitor, (y/n).” You turned just in time to see the wild black hair flying around a corner, back down to the dungeons and the Slytherin common room. It didn’t matter if you had seen who it was anyway, you would recognise that voice anywhere. Feeling yourself grow more and more lightheaded, you stumbled your way back to the Hufflepuff common room, into your dorm and practically collapsed on top of your bed.

…

The morning sunlight hit your face, waking you up from your groggy state and making you groan as you sniffled, sore throat and heavy head to complete your state. You sighed, quickly swinging yourself out of bed and getting ready in time for breakfast, trying to hide your paleness and red nose with makeup, although there was only so much you could do. In an almost trance-like state you walked over to the Gryffindor table, now with two seats empty as Remus was no doubt upstairs recovering on his own. Reaching for a mug of hot tea to soothe your throat, you opened your mouth.

“Morning. How was your night?” Your voice was thick, and scratched at your throat as it escaped you, but you hoped it could be put down to early morning sleepiness, which luckily it seemed to be.

“Relatively easy compared to most full moons, we barely had to – blimey, (y/n), what’s wrong?” Sirius asked as he studied your face, at the slight sweat that had broken out on your forehead as well as the greyish tinge to your skin. At his words, three other heads turned to look at you, surprise covering their faces too.

“I’m fine.” You reassured, avoiding their sceptical glares. “Guess I’ve just come down with a cold.”

“But you were completely fine yesterday!” Sirius exclaimed, frowning as he examined himself closer.

“Yeah, (y/n), even when you left last night you didn’t have so much as a sniffle, and now you borderline have the flu?” Lily asked. At her words, something seemed to click in Sirius’ mind, and he brought out his wand, uttered a few words under his breath which immediately made you feel much better as your illness cleared away within seconds. The effect was so quick it almost gave you headrush.

“So who cursed you?” he asked hotly, not caring to keep his voice down.

“Sirius, really, it’s fine. It was just a prank, I didn’t even see who it was. It was just a harmless joke-“

“Harmless? Fine, if you didn’t see who it was then I’m sure McGonagall can help us.” He stated, standing up and making his way up towards the staff table where she was sat. You jumped up, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back.

“No please, it’ll only get worse if she knows that I snitched.” You pleaded, and he turned back to you, pleased that you had finally given something up.

“She? So you do know who it is?” He asked, staring into your eyes as you defiantly started back. After a minute or two, you gave in, knowing that he would never give this up and that he would find out either way, but at least maybe the whole school didn’t have to.

“It was Bella.” You sighed, using the name he always used for her, unable to break the childhood habit even as he watched her grow into everything he hated. You watched the anger light in his eyes as he snapped his head over to the Slytherin table, where Narcissa sat but her sister was missing.

“That little bitch.” He snarled, storming out of the great hall with his wand gripped tightly in his hand, ignoring your shouts after him.

…

You had been pacing the Gryffindor common room for what felt like hours, although you suspected it had barely even been one. Lily and James had brought you up here, and after leaving a pile of chocolate on Remus’ bedside table you had gone back downstairs, wringing your hands as you couldn’t take your mind off what could possibly be happening in the dungeons.

The portrait swung open and your boyfriend clambered in, still seething but seemingly unhurt. You raced over to him, and he gladly took you in his arms, guiding you over to the sofas in front of the fire.

“What happened? Are you okay? Why on earth did you go after her?” You asked, racing through all your questions, making Sirius chuckle slightly as he pulled you onto his lap.

“Well, she should definitely know now that cursing you isn’t a good idea for her own safety.” He reassured you, and even though you were worried about him, and you didn’t approve of his actions, you couldn’t help but feel the happiness swelling through your chest at how much he cared for you. “I’m sorry, I know you didn’t want me to do anything but you’re just so pure and you would never hurt anyone and you didn’t deserve it and the fact that she’s my own blood-“ he seethed, as you cut him off.

“Hey, blood isn’t family, you know that,” you cooed, taking his hands in yours. “You’re not them, you left them, and that is the greatest show of courage I’ve ever seen. She went after me to target you, because she knew it would hurt the most. Because she knew that I’m your family know, we’re your family.”

“I love you, (y/n), I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Sirius.”

#harry potter fic #harry potter #sirius black #padfoot #marauders #marauders era x reader #marauders era #young sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #sirius x hufflepuff!reader #hufflepuff #hufflepuff reader #reader insert #request

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cyborgsquirrel · 4 years ago

Text

Sanctuary: Chapter 4

Pairing: Wolfstar

Summary: The epic tale of Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, from their first meeting until their happily ever after.

Link to Prologue

Link to All Chapters

September 1st, 1971

Remus had checked his trunk four times that morning, but he checked it again, just to be sure everything was there. He couldn't quite believe it was true. He was going to Hogwarts. To learn magic. With other people his age. Like a normal person. He glanced around his room, looking for anything he might have left out, but saw nothing. It was unlikely he would have forgotten anything if he were honest; he'd been making lists for weeks.

'Remus, are you ready? It's time to go,' his mum shouted.

His heart leapt with excitement. Grabbing onto the end of the heavy trunk, he dragged it into the living room where his mum was waiting for him by the fireplace. When he reached her, he bent over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath before returning to his room for his owl. She was already perched in her travel cage, and she whistled at him softly when he picked her up.

'Don't worry, Rieka. You won't be in there for long. You'll have the whole owlery at Hogwarts and the freedom to go for a fly whenever you like.'

She whistled again, and he assumed she understood and wasn't mad at him. He carefully carried the cage out to where his mum was waiting for him, trying not to jostle her.

They were taking the floo to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, much to Remus' dismay, but nothing could spoil his mood today. He placed the cage down and grinned up at his mum.

'Ready!'

The two of them travelled through the floo and emerged on the platform at quarter past ten. It had been Remus' suggestion to arrive early to avoid the crowds, and his plan had worked out well. The platform was almost empty. There were only a few early arrivals dotted about, and it was close to silent, so his mum crouched down to speak to him.

'Now, remember, you need to be careful. Try to eat your meals when there are fewer people in the hall and avoid crowded places.'

'I know, Mum. Don't worry.'

He was getting annoyed with the constant reminders. He knew what he had to do to stay safe. It was his life on the line if he messed up, not hers. Yet she kept telling him again and again like he was stupid.

'Good. But try to have fun too, sweetheart, and don't forget to write.'

Remus nodded.

'I'll owl you tonight.'

'I'll look forward to hearing all about it then. You better get on the train before more people arrive. I love you, and I'm so happy for you.'

She stood up and smiled at Remus, clasping her hands to her chest. He smiled back, feeling a tad guilty for his uncharitable thoughts a moment ago and wishing he was allowed to hug her. But knowing it was impossible, he turned and grabbed his trunk and his owl instead, hauling them onto the train in search of a secluded compartment.

-o-o-o-o-

Sirius was running late. Kreacher had apparated him to the platform at 10:55 am, despite Sirius having been ready since ten o'clock. The crotchety house-elf had deposited Sirius' trunk next to him and disapparated without a word, leaving him alone on the platform.

The place was crowded, people swarmed the platform in groups, talking loudly and pushing trolleys full of belongings. Sirius couldn't see anything. He didn't know which direction the train was in, and he only had five minutes to board. He panicked.

'Don't I know you?' a female voice said close to his ear.

Sirius whipped his head around in surprise and saw an old woman with grey hair. She was bent low to speak to him. He didn't recognise her, but she might be able to help him.

He gave her his most charming smile and said, 'I don't think so, ma'am, but if you would point me in the direction of the train, I'd be grateful.'

She stared at him, her eyes roaming his face.

'Yes. I do,' she said thoughtfully. 'You're Walburga's boy, aren't you? The train is this way, dear. Is that your trunk?'

He nodded to both questions, and she shrank his trunk down to the size of a small suitcase with a quick Reducio. He picked up the now miniature trunk and followed her to the train, grateful that at least some people were kind and helpful. Unlike his bitch of a mother who had purposefully made him late to the station "so he wouldn't have time to disgrace himself."

'Oh look, there's my James. Why don't you go with him? James!' she shouted, waving at the messy-haired boy with glasses who stood near the train.

He was dressed in muggle clothes, which looked very comfortable to Sirius, and was standing next to a much older version of himself, most likely his father. Next to him was a very expensive-looking mahogany trunk. Sirius sized him up in a moment and was left confused. He had the air of a wealthy pureblood about him, but his muggle attire didn't fit. Blood-traitors, then? Excellent, his mother would be furious.

'There you are, Mum. We thought you got lost,' James said with a grin. Spotting Sirius next to her, James turned his attention on him. 'Hi there. I'm James Potter. Who are you?'

Ah, a Potter, that explained everything. They were wealthier even than the Blacks, but they were muggle-lovers, a disgrace to their name if you asked his mother. Which he didn't. Ever. He couldn't let a Potter outdo him in confidence though, so he stepped towards the boy.

'My name's Sirius,' he said, purposefully leaving out his surname.

He flashed his trademark grin and held out his hand to shake.

James shook his hand and leant forward.

'Do you like pranks?' he asked, in a whisper.

Sirius thought back to the dungbomb at his mother's party. All the guests had been stinking like dragon dung when they left. It was brilliant. He smirked at James.

'Who doesn't?'

'Excellent!' James said, clapping his hands.

He grabbed Sirius' arm and dragged him towards the train.

'Let's go to school,' he said, and then much quieter, and for Sirius' ears only, he added, 'and become pranking legends!'

Sirius laughed. James' exuberance was a little overwhelming and not the kind of behaviour he was used to. The people in his family were all sedate and dignified. Passion was not a trait the Blacks were known for, not in public at least. But it also pleased him to have found a potential friend so fast, and a Potter no less. That would piss his mother off more than anything. Well, not as much as if he befriended a mudblood or some filthy half-breed, but it was a close second, and the best part was she couldn't object because the Potter's were higher up the social ladder than the Blacks.

Mrs Potter waylaid them in their quest to board the train, grabbing James by his arm and pulling him in for a hug.

'How dare you try to leave without saying goodbye,' she said, showering kisses down on his head.

James struggled in her arms.

'Mum! Not in front of Sirius,' he whined.

Sirius would prefer it if she stopped too. Not because he thought James had anything to be embarrassed about, but because the display of affection reminded him how little of it he received in his own life, and the pang of jealousy didn't sit well with him. He was the Black heir; he shouldn't be jealous of anyone.

'Oh, don't be silly. Why should you care if your friend knows I love you?' she asked, laughing. 'Go on then. You can leave. Don't forget to write!'

She unshrunk Sirius' trunk, and they both dragged the heavy boxes onto the train and into an empty compartment.

The train ride passed uneventfully, mostly. There was an argument with a greasy, dark-haired kid and his red-headed girlfriend about Slytherin. It seemed like James really hated Slytherins, and that knowledge made Sirius' gut ache. He didn't think he would be placed in Slytherin, but if he was, would James still want to be his friend? From what he'd seen, he doubted it. They had only known each other for a few hours, but already he felt a deep bond with the other boy. A fellow heir to a high-ranking house and a sizable fortune even bigger than his own. He didn't want to lose his friendship so soon.

There was also a minor incident with a firecracker in the bathroom, but that had nothing to do with them, honest.

When they were roaming the corridors, Sirius had kept a look-out for Remus, the boy from the apothecary. But he didn't see anyone who resembled him in any of the carriages they explored. Maybe at the welcome feast, he thought hopefully.

They disembarked from the train at Hogsmeade Station and joined the other first years gathering around a giant man covered in more hair than any animal Sirius had ever seen. He introduced himself as Hagrid and led them to the edge of the Black Lake. Apparently, they were expected to get to Hogwarts by crossing the water in rickety old boats that looked ready to sink.

Sirius boarded a boat with James and gingerly took a seat, hoping it was clean and dry. How embarrassing would it be to arrive at the feast with a dirty wet patch on his ass? He scanned the bank and the other boats for anyone who resembled Remus but came up empty. It wasn't long before they were joined in their boat by a plump boy with a round face. He said his name was Peter, and he was dressed decently, even if his robes weren't quite the quality of James' and his own.

A few minutes later, a small boy with long tawny hair and robes that were two sizes too big approached them. His face was gaunt, and he had dark circles under his eyes. He looked like a strong wind might blow him away. Sirius put on his best haughty expression and spoke with the perfect enunciation of a pureblood who had received speech tutoring since the age of two.

'Can we help you?'

He even managed to look down his nose at the strange boy despite being at a lower elevation. His mother would be proud.

The boy seemed to quake a little, but then gathered courage from somewhere and spoke in a soft, clear voice, 'Oh, um, I was hoping I could ride with you?'

'I'm afraid not. This seat is taken,' Sirius said, before turning away in dismissal.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as the boy's shoulders drooped and he wandered off to find another boat. Sirius felt a little bad for being so rude to him, but he needed to save the seat for Remus in case he was here.

'Who are we keeping the seat for?' James asked.

'Someone I met when I was younger. I was hoping he'd be here, but I don't see him. His name's Remus,' Sirius said.

A few minutes later, the bank was clear of students, and the boats moved off across the lake. He scanned the boats again and caught the eye of the strange boy from before. He was in the same boat as Hagrid, and he looked terrified. His knees were pulled up to his chest, and he appeared to be trying to make himself as small as possible. A flash of guilt shot through him, and he looked away.

The boats took them to a docking area on the other side of the lake, and Hagrid led them into a compact waiting room, told them to wait and left. Sirius and James made their way to the back of the room with Peter following like a lost puppy. Sirius noticed the sickly boy had huddled himself into the back corner of the room. With the better lighting inside, he looked even more unwell, and he was watching his surroundings in a way that felt familiar. He was scanning for danger.

The door to the little room opened, and a severe-looking woman walked in. She had her dark-brown hair secured in a bun at the back of her head, and she peered at them over her glasses. The story of her life was mapped onto her face in wrinkles, and her hair had streaks of grey. Her appearance was so unlike that of Sirius' family. He liked her immediately; she looked so real.

She introduced herself as Professor McGonagall, gave a speech about the houses and said something about rule-breaking and house points that Sirius didn't catch. When the tedious speech was over, she took them through to the Great Hall for the sorting ceremony. James and Sirius stayed together as they entered the hall, and Peter continued to trail in their wake. They waited while a decrepit-looking hat on a stool sang a song about the four houses and what they stood for, and then McGonagall started talking again.

'When I call your name, you will sit on the stool and place the sorting hat on your head. When it calls out your house, you will join your housemates at their table.'

Sirius cringed at the thought of putting that ancient thing on his beautiful hair. How many other students had it touched in all the years since the school opened? How many of those people had had dirty, greasy hair? He shuddered. Professor McGonagall started reading out the names, and the hat sorted each one. It took longer with some than others, but each one brought Sirius closer to his fate. He was so nervous now that he was sweating in his robes.

'Black, Sirius,' she called.

'Good luck, mate,' James said, patting him on the shoulder.

Sirius glanced at his friend, keeping his expression smooth and free of the anxiety he was feeling inside. He ran a hand through his hair, stuck his chin in the air, and with all the pretend confidence he could muster, he strode up to the stool, picked up the hat, sat down and placed the disgusting thing on his head. Not Slytherin, he thought, please not Slytherin.

'Not Slytherin?' a voice said in his head. 'Well, isn't that unusual for a Black? Let's take a look at you then. No ambition as such, unless you count a desire to cause trouble. But plenty of cunning. You would do well in Slytherin.'

No, anywhere but Slytherin, please, Sirius thought.

'Well, if you're sure. Let's see where else you could go. Ravenclaw would not suit you. You certainly have the intelligence but not the desire for knowledge. And Hufflepuff is definitely out. But maybe Gryffindor. You have bravery in abundance, that much is clear from your request. Going against your entire family takes courage, and might also be considered rather reckless. I think you're right, young man. You're not a Slytherin at all. You're one hundred percent GRYFFINDOR!'

The hat screamed the last word, and Sirius sat there for a moment in shock. His heart leapt; he wasn't in Slytherin. School might be even better than he thought. Not just a brief reprieve from his parents, but an actual pleasure. He yanked the hat from his head to stunned silence in the Great Hall. There was a smattering of applause from the teachers' table, and a few students were clapping, but the majority just stared at him. All except for a lone voice coming from the group of waiting first years. James was at the back of the crowd, and he was jumping up and down, whooping and clapping enough for the entire hall. Sirius grinned at his friend, hoping James was right to believe himself a Gryffindor.

He stood up and walked to the Gryffindor table, head held high despite the silence of the hall. There were a few calls of 'traitor,' from the Slytherins, but that just made his grin bigger. He glanced over to the snake's end of the hall and caught the eye of Lucius Malfoy. The Slytherin prefect shook his head at him and averted his gaze. He was no longer welcome there then. Shrugging off the rejection, Sirius found a seat near the middle of the table and waited for James.

The sorting continued, and he was thoroughly bored. And hungry. It was taking forever. Name after name, child after child, was called and sorted. It all blurred together. Then he heard a name that made him sit up and pay attention.

'Lupin, Remus.'

Sirius craned his neck to see the stage and waited impatiently for someone to step forward. For the longest moment, no one moved, and Sirius' heart sank. He wasn't here; he hadn't come. His heart sank even further when a boy finally did move. He walked up to the Sorting Hat in his far too long robes, tripping on the way, and sat down. Well shit, Sirius thought, if this isn't the most stupendous fuck up of my life.

-o-o-o-o-

Remus had been terrified when Hagrid said he could ride with him. The man was humongous, and Remus had to curl himself into a ball to make sure he didn't touch him. He had made a very uncomfortable journey across the lake, catching the eye of the horrid boy who had been rude to him before. They still had an empty seat in their boat. They hadn't been waiting for anyone. It had been a lie. They just didn't want to ride with him, and he couldn't blame them.

He was relieved to reach the other side and escape the cramped confines of the boat. The relief was short-lived though. When he saw the size of the waiting room, he groaned. Why was everything so small? It was a castle for goodness' sake. Shouldn't everything be big? He crammed himself into one of the back corners out of the way and hoped no one would come too close.

Thankfully, they weren't there for long and were soon led through to the Great Hall for the sorting. Remus was glad to see the size of the hall but eyed the tables nervously. The bench seating would make things difficult. He would need to sit at the end so he could quickly slide off if someone sat too close, he decided.

The rude boy from the boat was sorted into Gryffindor, and Remus hoped he would be placed somewhere else. Anywhere else. Unfortunately, he had already deduced Gryffindor to be his probable destination. He was smart enough for Ravenclaw, but it would be dangerous to be surrounded by people with too much intelligence. Slytherin was out since he was a half-blood and a dark creature to boot. Hufflepuff was unlikely because, again, dark creature and that all left Gryffindor. Although he didn't really consider himself to be brave or reckless either. Maybe the hat would just send him home.

The professor continued calling out names, and the closer she got to the Ls, the more nervous Remus became. Would the hat know he was a werewolf? Maybe it would refuse to sort him. Horrific visions flew through his mind. The hat screaming out, 'werewolf,' repeatedly while Remus was chased from the hall by students shooting spells at him. Remus sitting for minutes on end, surrounded by whispering students as the hat stubbornly refused to speak his house until Dumbledore came and led him away. Oh, Merlin, this was a mistake. He should never have come.

'Lupin, Remus,' McGonagall called, tearing him from his anxious thoughts.

Remus didn't move at first; he was frozen with fear. He took several deep and calming breaths before taking a step towards this fate. Once he had taken the first step, the second was easier, and he approached the stool and took his seat. He placed the hat on his head and waited.

'Well, well, well, what do we have here?'

The hat spoke in his head, making Remus jump. He hadn't expected it to talk to him.

'A young werewolf, coming to school to learn magic. This is new.'

Don't tell, please don't tell, Remus thought frantically, tears burning his eyes.

'Don't worry, little cub, I couldn't even if I wanted to. And I don't. You're a brave little cub, aren't you? I can see that, the way you walked to your first transformation, and your efforts not to scream. If I had eyes, it would be enough to make me cry. I have no problem sorting you. You're a GRYFFINDOR!'

The hat shouted the last word, and Remus pulled it off; he tried to wipe his eyes discreetly, but he was sure everyone saw. He put the hat down on the stool and hurried to the Gryffindor table, hating the sensation of everyone staring at him. The rude boy from earlier seemed to be beckoning him. Sirius Black he was called, Remus ignored him. There was no way he could sit in the middle of the bench even if he did want to sit with him, which he didn't. Remus took a seat right at the end as he had planned and turned his attention to the stage.

A few more students were sorted into Gryffindor, including Black's friends, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew, before it was over. Dumbledore stood and welcomed them to the school before announcing the feast. At his words, the tables filled with overflowing dishes and Remus' belly growled at the sight. He had never seen so much food in his life.

Remus eyed the food as he waited for the flurry of reaching hands to die down. What he really wanted was the roast beef he could see further down the table, but there was no way to get to it without risking contact with other students. So he settled for the mushroom and rice dish nearest him, wrinkling his nose at the taste. He hated mushrooms.

Dessert was a vast improvement. He was able to snag a piece of chocolate cake, and he ate it slowly, savouring every bite of its heavenly flavour. When everyone had finished eating, the prefects of each house led the first years to their common rooms. Gryffindor's was located on the seventh floor behind a portrait of an overweight lady in a pink dress. They were led inside, Remus waiting until last, and given a lecture about curfews and other rules and pointed towards their dormitories. Remus watched Black and Potter racing each other up the stairs, Pettigrew trailing behind, and decided to wait a while before going up himself, finding a quiet corner to curl up in.

When his eyes began to droop, he decided it was time to find out where he would be sleeping and headed for the stairs. He soon found the door with his name on it and groaned when he saw he would be sharing it with Black, Potter and Pettigrew. He was disappointed, but not surprised. It was typical of his luck.

He took a deep breath and gripped the door handle. He turned it and pushed. As the door swung open, he heard the unmistakable voice of Black proclaim, 'Ugh, this is a nightmare!' and his face warmed. The boy could only be referring to having to share a room with him. He decided the best course of action would be to keep his head down and stay out of the way. He didn't want any trouble.

-o-o-o-o-

Over dinner, Sirius had told James the story of how he met Remus. James was a pureblood and well aware of the Black family's reputation, so he had no trouble believing the tale regarding how vile his mother was. What he struggled to believe was Remus' part in the story.

'That sickly looking kid? He kicked your mum and shouted at her?' he had asked, looking at Sirius as if he'd said dragons were no more dangerous than a fluffy kitten.

'Well, he didn't look sick back then,' he'd replied.

Now they were in their new dorm room, which they would share along with Peter the excited puppy and Remus, who probably now hated him.

'I've screwed everything up, James. What am I going to do? He hates me now!' Sirius said, pacing the room like a caged hippogriff.

'You'll just have to show him you're not really a cold, upper-class dickhead,' James said with a shrug. Which was extremely unhelpful in Sirius' opinion. 'Unless you are a cold, upper-class dickhead, of course. Are you a cold, upper-class dickhead, Sirius?'

He looked up at Sirius from where he sat, cross-legged on his bed, with an expression of genuine curiosity on his face.

'No more than you, you wanker,' Sirius said before flopping dramatically onto his own bed. 'Ugh, this is a nightmare!'

At that very moment, the door opened, and the object of his distress tripped into the room. Remus' face was flushed crimson, and his gaze darted around frantically until he spotted his trunk at the end of one of the beds. He stumbled over to it, rooted through the contents and pulled out a wad of blue material before climbing onto the bed and drawing the surrounding curtains without saying a word to any of them.

Sirius glanced at James and flung his hands in the air in the universal sign language of, 'What the fuck do I do?' James just shrugged and started getting ready for bed. Sirius scowled at him and stared at the closed curtains for a minute, trying to decide whether to try talking to Remus now or wait until morning. Deciding to wait, he changed into his pyjamas and climbed into bed.

Chapter 5

#fanfiction #harrypotter #marauders #wolfstar

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thisdiscontentedwinter · 5 years ago

Text

Bad Blood - Chapter 20

You can read it on AO3 or find the Tumblr Chapter Index here.

___________

On Friday at around ten a.m., after a night spent in yet another rat-infested bolthole, Peter takes Laura and Derek to the John’s house. John has been working late, and is still asleep when Peter cases the place to make sure nobody is watching it, and then lets them in through the back door.

“Shower’s upstairs on the left,” he says, pointing.

Laura gives him the side-eye, but not for long. Her misgivings are slim indeed in the face of the promise of hot water.

Peter hums as he loads their laundry into John’s washer. Derek leans awkwardly in the doorway and watches him.

“Are we allowed to do this?” he asks when he catches Peter’s look.

“We’re not not allowed,” Peter decides at last.

Both the kids are showered and the laundry is on the spin cycle by the time John treads downstairs wiping sleep from his eyes.

“I need better home security,” is all he says when he takes in the three Hales at his kitchen table. “Is the coffee on?”

Peter winks and slides him a cup.

It’s… it’s temporary, this weird teasing thing between them. It’s the same game Laura and Derek played with their bickering about chocolate and hair dryers. It’s a forced distraction. There’s no foundation to it, Peter thinks, and there never will be unless he can deliver John’s son to him, safe and sound. If he can do that, if they can kill the Argents and save the people they want to save, maybe there will be something there to build on. At the moment it’s a crutch, and Peter knows both he and John can use one of those.

John sips his coffee and eyes them critically. “Did any of you sleep last night?”

“On and off,” Peter says, although it was more off than on. Being in an unfamiliar place made it hard enough to settle. Being in an unfamiliar place with the threat of hunters hanging over their heads? Well, the less said about that, the better.

“The sofa in the living room pulls out,” John says. “If you want to catch a few hours. And there’s a spare room upstairs.”

Peter looks to Laura.

She’s still for a moment, and then she nods.

Good. She’s read John’s heartbeat. She’s got the measure of him now. She knows he’s an ally, and possibly even a friend. Peter only wishes that he’d seen it years earlier. He knows John was right—there was nothing the Hales could have done to help him get Stiles back before now—but at least he wouldn’t have had to drink alone.

“Are you working today?” Peter asks.

“A late,” John says. “Starting at four, unless I get called in before.”

Peter pauses at that. He hasn’t asked John directly about the official investigation into Scott McCall’s death, but the murder of the teenager in the woods has been on the front page of the local newspaper every day since it happened, and Peter wonders how John intends to handle it. Or perhaps he intends to just ignore the speculation until some other lurid crime takes its place in the local headlines, and most people just forget all about Scott McCall.

John can hardly arrest the Argents for murder, can he?

As if they’d let that happen anyway.

John jolts as his phone buzzes. “Speak of the devil.” He takes it out of his pocket and quints at the screen. “No. It’s from Chris.”

Peter tenses.

“Gerard has brought in six mercenaries,” John says, reading from the screen. “The hunt is scheduled for Monday night.” His mouth turns down. “The warehouses on Elm.”

He sets his phone on the table.

“They know where we’ve been hiding?” Laura asks, her eyes flashing red.

“Process of elimination, probably,” John says. “It’s not a big town, and that Camaro you drive is pretty damn distinctive.”

Derek’s brows tug together worriedly.

“Okay,” Peter says. “We knew it was coming. Nothing’s changed. That’s six unknown hunters, plus Gerard and Kate, plus Chris—who hopefully won’t shoot—plus Stiles, who probably will if Chris won’t get him out of the way before then.”

“Three against ten,” Derek mutters.

“Four,” John says. “And I know a few tricks still.”

“So does Deaton,” Peter says. “He’s bound to have something up his sleeve to balance out the odds. We can do this.”

Laura and Derek don’t look convinced.

“We’re the Hale pack,” Peter tells them fiercely. “We’ve got this.”

***

They don’t have this.

John’s phone rings a few hours later, and he answers it. His expression tightens as he listens.

“I’ll be right there,” he says, and ends the call. “That was the station. I’ve got deputies responding to reports of shots fired at Gerard Argent’s house.”

Shit.

Peter feels the colour drain from his face.

They don’t have this.

***

The wail of the siren pierces Peter’s nerves all the way to Gerard’s house.

There are already two police cruisers in the driveway when John pulls up.

The front door of the house is open, and Peter follows John inside.

There’s a deputy kneeling on the steps leading upstairs. He’s kneeling over someone fallen there, and the steps are slick with blood. Peter sees a massive smear of it along the wall, as though whoever has been shot was trying to get upstairs, a bloody hand out for balance, when they fell.

There’s a firearm lying at the bottom of the stairs.

“Parrish,” John says. “What have we got?”

“Two gunshot victims,” the deputy says, twisting around slightly to look down at them. His gaze lands on Peter and his brow furrows, but if he doesn’t know what the hell Peter is doing here he also doesn’t ask. “We’ve got a male victim here, and a female in the kitchen. Don’t know yet if we’re looking for a perp, or if it’s one of our victims.”

“Any witnesses?”

“Nobody in the house,” Parrish says. “Our only witnesses are the neighbours who called it in, and they didn’t see much. There are guns all over the scene, sir. A hell of an arsenal in the basement too.”

Peter cranes his head to see.

It’s Chris Argent lying on the stairs. Peter can hear a faint tachy heartbeart, but the man’s eyes are closed and his face has a sickly greyish pallor.

“You’ve cleared the house?”

“Yes, sir,” Parrish says. “And we’ve got EMTs en route.”

John leaves Parrish and Chris on the stairs and walks toward the back of the house. Peter follows.

The scene in the kitchen is much the same. There’s blood everywhere, and a body on the floor. Peter can hear the sounds of wet, laboured breathing.

There’s a female deputy kneeling over the body on the floor. She’s applying pressure to a wound. Her blue gloves are stained with blood.

“Sheriff,” the deputy says. “We need the EMTs.”

“They’re on their way,” John says. “Go and help Parrish. I’ll take over here.”

The deputy obeys.

John crouches down beside Kate Argent. He reaches into a pouch on his belt and pulls on a pair of gloves. Doesn’t press his hands to the wound in her chest. Just crouches there and stares down at her, as her eyes weakly try to regain their focus.

Peter growls softly, approvingly.

“Hello, Kate,” John says softly. “Where’s my son?”

She sucks in another wet breath. Blood bubbles out of her mouth on the exhale.

“You came into my house, and you took my boy,” John says. He’s almost whispering, and he sounds more dangerous now than at any time Peter has known him. “Where is he?”

Kate makes a small sound, her mouth twisting into an ugly smile.

“I suppose you can’t talk,” John says. “I suppose that even if you could, it’d be a fucking lie. You’re dying, Kate. You’re done.”

Kate’s eyes narrow, and her mouth moves as she slurs out the word: “Traitor.”

“Maybe so,” John says, “but at least I’m not a murderer.” Then he hums thoughtfully. “Well, up until now.”

He puts his gloved hand over Kate’s mouth and nose.

Holds it there.

Peter glances behind them to make sure the deputies are keeping busy with Chris.

In the distance, he can hear more sirens. Ambulances.

He looks back at John. He’s a million miles away from the man Peter flirted with earlier today, and Peter thinks: Yes. Peter is a left hand, but John? John is fucking avenging angel.

Kate grunts weakly, and her legs thrash. She raises a hand and clenches her curling fingers around John’s wrist in an attempt to pull him away.

John doesn’t even flinch.

By the time the paramedics arrive, Kate is dead, and the sheriff of Beacon Hills is crouching over her, shaking his head as he tries uselessly to perform CPR.

***

The Preserve is beautiful in the late afternoon sunlight. Peter has always thought so. The light filters down through the trees at the edge of the parking lot, leaving dappled glowing spots on the ground. Inside, where the trees thicken, the Preserve will be cool and damp, and Peter’s skin itches with the urge to transform and run on four feet.

He squints down at the screen of Chris Argent’s phone as he hears the Camaro rumbling nearer. Of course Chris Argent is the sort of father who tracks his daughter’s phone through his. How useful.

Allison Argent’s phone is a few miles away, and it hasn’t moved in an hour. Peter’s too much of a pessimist to believe that means that Allison and Stiles haven’t moved in an hour. Most likely they’ve ditched the phone. But it gives them a starting point to catch their scent.

He walks over to the Camaro as it pulls up and Laura and Derek climb out.

“Kate’s dead,” he says.

Derek closes his eyes briefly. A breath shudders through him. When he opens his eyes again, a faint, cautious smile is playing around his mouth.

“Chris isn’t,” Peter says. “Yet. The neighbours saw two teenagers running from the house, and shortly after that the shooting stopped and Gerard’s SUV left as well.”

“Do we know what happened?” Laura asks.

“Seems like Kate and Chris had an argument,” Peter says. “Chris appears to have won. But there’s no sign of Gerard, and Stiles and Allison have bolted.” He holds up Chris’s phone to display the map. Allison’s phone is a pulsing blue dot in the middle of the green space of the Preserve. “Allison’s phone is here. Let’s go and see if we can bring the little Argents home, shall we?”

They head into the Preserve.

#steter senior #sterek #bad blood #discontentedwinter #my fics

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waywardbronzeandblue-blog · 6 years ago

Text

They Have a Sister, You Know? (Part 1)

Remus Lupin x Reader

Word Count: 1,461

Warning(s): canon divergence, language, mention of an abusive childhood, mild violence/torture.

Series Summary: You were the youngest, and least known sibling in the Black family. And, like your brothers before you, you rebelled against your family, eventually leaving them in your wake. Luckily, as you got older, your brothers took you under their wing and held you up on your feet. Now, you fought together in the war that seemed to consume the world around you. Since jobs were out of the question, your oldest brother Sirius and his friends formed a low-key rock band, performing at small bars here and there for extra income. And, being the supportive younger sister you were, you went to the first show you could. That was where you met Remus Lupin, again. Sure, you remembered the scrawny boy from school. But, years later, he was different. He was hot.And, when the world suddenly started crumbling around you, you realized that was only one of many amazing traits the young werewolf possessed.

A/N: Here’s my first Remus x Reader series. I hope you like it. Bold words are song lyrics. Song featured in this fic is “You Don’t Belong” by Chris Daughtry. Sorry, but I don’t keep a tag list.

Sirius and Regulus Black? Yeah, I’ve heard of them. They have a sister, you know? Y/N Black. She was the youngest of the three, and from what I’ve heard, the most rebellious. Yes, even more than her infamous oldest brother. Walburga kept her on a short leash, and rarely let her leave the house as a child. When she turned eleven, she was sent off to Hogwarts like her brothers. She was only a year behind Regulus I believe, and was sorted into Ravenclaw house, much to her parent’s dismay. After Sirius ran away, she found her way out of Grimmauld Place too, for good. No one knows where the three siblings are now. I’ve heard Regulus was killed, and she may be dead too. No one really knows for sure.

You nudged Regulus and smiled. He shot you another annoyed look, which seemed to be his usual look these days, then turned back to the dark stage in front of him. It was weird being in public like this, out in the open, but it was also so nice. It had been almost two months since any of you had gone out in public to have any sort of fun. And, a rock concert was definitely your idea of fun.

“I hope Sirius falls of that stage,” you joked as you leaned towards your brother. “He’s such a dork.”

“He won’t, Y/N. Be nice,” Lily, one of your best friends growled beside you, swatting your arm. “If any of them are going to get injured, it would be James. I can’t believe they trust him with two drum sticks.” She rolled her eyes, making you laugh.

“You’ve got a point, Lils.” You turned back towards the stage waiting for your brother and his friends to come on. The four of them had formed a small band to make some extra cash when they could. Of course, everyone took extra care to make sure the Death Eaters weren’t following them. But, in the back of your mind, you knew they were never too far behind.

Marlene smacked both of her hands onto your shoulders and screamed as the stage lit up, revealing your favorite rock stars. The nearly one hundred people in the crowd clapped and cheered as James, Sirius, Peter, and Remus entered the stage.

“Oh,” you muttered as your eyes landed on your brother’s friend, Remus. It had been a while since you had seen him, at least a year or two. Hell, maybe more. Since you and Reg were almost always gone on some sort of mission nowadays, you hadn’t had much time to catch up with anyone. Most of them hadn’t changed a bit.

But, Remus had. He was taller than you remember, even taller than Sirius now. And, he had definitely filled out since school. His shoulders were wider, and he was definitely more muscular than you remembered. And, he had a noticeable, relatively new scar across his left cheek. The sight made your heart ping. But, those gorgeous green eyes were the same one you remembered from years back. Oh, and they were as magnificent as ever.

Regulus had told you during school that Remus was a werewolf. It had scared the life out of you at first. But, Remus was a sweet soul. And, from what you understood, his friends kept close watch during his transformations. After a while, you rarely thought about it.

Remus held his guitar close, which you recognized was Sirius’ spare that you stole from time to time. He approached the center mic. He sang too? Merlin. You weren’t sure you could take much more without melting.

“Oh, James, don’t twirl those!” Lily squealed to herself as she watched her husband toy with his drum sticks. “I don’t want to have to fix those glasses again!” she whined. James obviously couldn’t hear her. So, you just laughed, watching the young man you referred to as your brother-in-law tap lightly on the edge of his drums.

Your eyes scanned over the boys. Sirius tuned his deep purple guitar and Peter adjusted the strap on his tattered bass guitar. You honestly didn’t even know Peter had any musical talent.

“Hello, everyone,” Remus greeted the crowd. His voice was much deeper than you remembered, giving you chills. “And thank you for being here.” And, with that, he and Sirius started their first cords.

Remus leaned into the mic. “With time to kill and an empty tomb, I always find a way to pass the time with you.” His silky voice rolled. You nearly melted into the floor. Instead, you leaned against your older brother, who stood perfectly still. His eyes flicked over to you knowingly, but he didn’t say a word.

Sirius thrashed around, occasionally popping up in front of his own mic to sing the back up vocals. You didn’t even know your brother could sing. He certainly could, and so could Remus. Oh, so well.

“Ten feet tall and bullet proof I never thought that I had a thing to lose.” Your skin prickled as you watched the copper haired man close his eyes, getting lost in the music around him. The crowd around you responded, making you smile. But, you couldn’t take your eyes off Remus Lupin.

“They’re really good, huh?” Lily asked beside you, her voice barely audible over the music. You nodded, never shifting your gaze. She nudged you. “Y/N?” She studied you, slowly following your line of sight to the subject of your fascination. “Oh, no. Y/N, you crushing on a rock star?”

You snapped towards her. “No! They are just a lot better than I taught they would be! I had no idea they would be so put together!” you shouted as the song ended. “I thought Sirius was going to try to play something different from everyone else and try to lead the show.”

Lily shook her head. “From what little I’ve seen during their occasional practice, he’s as focused as the rest of them. They just haven’t had much time to play, with so many missions lately.” She turned back towards the stage, her eyes landing on James. “It’s a good distraction for them—”

The building around you started the shake violently. Shards from the wooden ceiling beams began to fall into the small crowd as everyone around you started to scream. Regulus grabbed your arm and tugged you towards him, reaching for his wand. You slipped yours out too and held it in front of you.

“Shit!” you screamed. “What is—Lily!” you shouted for your friend as she raced towards the stage, towards your husband. “No!” you tried to break free from his grasp and chase after her, but Regulus was bigger than you, and he was just too strong. “I need to go after her!”

“James will find her! And Marlene!” he shouted over the screams. “We need to get out of here—” Just as he turned, a dark figure stopped him dead in his tracks. “Fuck.”

You lifted your wand as turned toward your brother. The figure, cloaked in a long black robe, stared you down. The man didn’t say a word. Instead, he raised his wand to you.

“Impedimenta!” you screamed just before the man flicked his wand. His movements slowed, giving Regulus enough time to dodge out of the way. He rushed into the crowd with you following close behind.

Seconds later, your entire body exploded with intense pain. You collapsed to the concrete ground as your spine arched. A desperate shrill escaped your throat as a young woman, around your age, hovered over you, her wand dangling from her thin fingers.

“The youngest Black, filthy traitor!” you could barely hear her over the sound of your own screams. Your legs bent under you, pain still searing through every nerve. This was it; you were done for. That was what you got for going to such a public place even when hundreds of loyal Death Eaters were hunting you down every waking moment. It was about time before they found you and killed you.

“Stupefy!” You heard someone scream. A moment later, they pain began to subside, and a sigh left your lungs. You tensed as arms wrapped around you and pulled you quickly to your feet. Your blurred vision tried to focus on who was holding you up. But, you couldn’t tell.

“Reg?” you muttered to your savior.

“He’s safe. Both of your brothers are,” a familiar voice answered. You aching body tensed again, this time from shock.

“Remus,” you huffed, trying to keep up with his fast pace. But, the curse had been too much for you, and you were weak. Your head spun as you lost your footing, before finally collapsing back onto the floor.

#remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus lupin and reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x reader series #sirius black #regulus black #lily potter #james potter #marlene mckinnon #remus lupin reader insert #marauder era fanfiction #remus lupin fanfiction

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loopy777 · 5 years ago

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If you were told to write a spiderman series, with the regular high school/college love triangle shenanigans involving the usual ladies of Peter's life, only with the twist that in the end Spiderman/Black Cat would be the actual couple of the series, how would you go about writing them? Also what do you think the good and bad things about a series focused the ship would be?

(Sorry for the delay. The most recent chapter of Traitor’s Face insisted that every single thing I wrote for it needed to be completely rewritten at one point or another.)

Huh, now this is a new idea. It reminds me of how the 90’s animated series started with Felicia Hardy, no Black Cattiness at all, as the main love interest. And for some reason she was a cheap knock-off of Gwen Stacy for something like four seasons. I can only guess that they came up with the character first, and then stuck a random name on her from the comics.

However, if they *did* start with the idea of using Felicia, I understand how they wound up having to add so much to the character. The first big problem with the concept is that she essentially doesn’t have any character besides being the Black Cat. So anything that tried to make her the winning Love Interest would either need to bring Felicia into Peter’s civilian life and flesh her out as something more than a costumed adventurer/criminal/hero, or make the focus of the stories on his life as Spider-Man. You know, maybe do something like the Ultimate Spider-Man cartoon and make him a pro-hero all the time.

The second big problem is the Black Cat’s weird status with her powers. If she doesn’t have any powers, she’s just a Catwoman knock-off. For a short while she had generic Cat powers, but that’s nothing that’s going to put her on the map. Her ‘true’ power, as far as I’m concerned, is her Bad Luck thing; it plays well on her full theme, it’s fairly unique, and it’s something that can be presented in a dynamic way, with her opponents continually encountering ridiculous bad luck as they try to impede her. But there’s no real origin for those powers, is there? She got them from Kingpin (in a story I haven’t read) and as far as I know the exact method by which he gave her those specific powers isn’t known; it’s incidental to plot point of her going to Kingpin in the first place. So a full, meaningful origin would have to be invented for those powers, too.

The final thing that needs to be created for the Black Cat is a reason to stick around long-term. She dips in and out of the comics because, when she isn’t romantically involved with Spidey, there’s really no reason for her to be in the story. She pursues her own goals, which can take her away from Spidey’s drama.

With all that in mind, here’s a possible scenario I came up with to answer the question.

Set during college years, Felicia and Peter are childhood friends, once being part of a Three Amigos thing with Flash Thompson before Flash became a bully. All three came from messed up histories, with Peter being the orphan raised by his aunt and uncle, Flash having an alcoholic father, and Felicia having something more complicated that we’ll get into. What Peter doesn’t know is that Flash turned against him because Flash fell in love with Felicia, but she had feelings for Peter. Peter never noticed because in high school he was a total nerd who didn’t feel lovable, and after that he was too distracted by Spider-stuff.

Anyway, Felicia’s backstory is that her family was super-poor until her father started working for the Kingpin as a spy, enforcer, and coordinator/boss of Kingpin’s thieves. Their family had to hide that Daddy was involved in organized crime. After Felicia got into college, though, things became more strained, as her father couldn’t deal with all the super-heroes who have been chipping away at Kingpin’s empire, especially that insufferable Spider-Man! But Kingpin has made a deal with an evil scientist (maybe Norman Osborn, maybe the Jackal, maybe even Doc Ock) who has developed a counter for Spider-Man: a 'Bad Luck’ power that’s actually an unconscious psionic defensive ability to alter the immediate future. It’s a direct counter to Spider-Man’s Spider-Sense, which is an unconscious precognitive defensive ability.

For reasons, this can only be given to one person. Perhaps having too many Bad Luck people around compounds the effect? Or maybe Kingpin fears the power’s subtle nature, and doesn’t want to pass it around too much. Perhaps a few other limited people are given the power, but they only come into the story on rare occasions, like when Felicia needs to deal with a Shadow Archetype.

So Felicia becomes the Black Cat, and becomes an apprentice to her father. She battles Spider-Man, but isn’t entirely committed to the idea. She’s a good person, and doesn’t like the Kingpin or the way his empire hurts people. But she’s loyal to her family, and if she doesn’t do something about Spider-Man, her dad will be killed. She’s also juggling her college like, because she wants to eventually get out of being a criminal.

This all gets complicated when Felicia’s Bad Luck ability sets into motion a sequence of events that end with her finding out that Peter is Spider-Man, with Spidey unaware.

So we settle into our storytelling engine, where Spidey encounters some crime or adventure. If it doesn’t involve the Kingpin, then Black Cat helps him out because she wants to protect her buddy Peter. If the Kingpin is involved, Spidey and Black Cat can find themselves on opposite sides; in those cases, Black Cat obviously is trying to hold back against Spidey, and because he can sense this, he holds back against her, too. He even becomes rather taken with her.

This frustrates Felicia to no end, for obvious reasons.

Throw in the complication that, in their civilian lives, Flash is dealing with his family history and trying to be a better person as he goes through college. He tries again with Felicia, who both feels bad for him and is frustrated that Peter is more interested in her alter-ego. And there’s the outgoing Mary Jane Watson who seems interested in Peter, and he in her.

A change in the dynamic can happen if Peter discovers Black Cat’s secret identity. Perhaps he doesn’t realize that she knows who he is, and she doesn’t know that he knows about her in turn, so hilarity ensues as they’re both unaware that they could end all these complications with a very simple conversation.

Another 'end of an era’ switch-up can happen if the Kingpin gets taken down, but not necessarily Felicia’s father with him. I like the idea of replacing Kingpin as the big bad with Norman Osborn, and Osborn discovering Peter’s identity can mess around things. Perhaps Felicia’s father even teams up with Osborn, dragging her into the conflict. The love triangle could be messed up by Harry Osborn getting involved and pursuing Felicia or the Black Cat- or both!

I’m thinking we also need to eventually do something for the Black Costume Saga, so that Flash has the opportunity to become Agent Venom and get involved in the super-heroics that his childhood friends are perpetrating. It would be interesting if Agent Venom is working for SHIELD or somesuch government agency, and both Spider-Man and Black Cat can be wanted felons by that point, so they’re both fighting Flash without realizing it. Bonus points if Flash’s superiors include a corrupt character who is running a criminal sideline.

I’m keeping to the spirit of this idea as a comic book, so I don’t have a definite endgame. Obviously, Peter and Felicia would have to become fully aware of each other’s identities and knowledge. Perhaps Flash’s death is what inspires them to finally try to commit to each other, or else the defeat of a major villain, which might wind up being Felicia��s father as their ultimate enemy. I don’t think I’d have them give up their superheroics afterward, but it probably depends on all the drama and trauma they’ve suffered through at that point. Since the speculative scenario is that I’m writing a real comic book with this storyline, I need to keep my options open for either getting canceled after twelves issues or going over a hundred.

The main appeal of this kind of series, I think, is that the female lead gets to be involved in both the civilian soap opera stuff and the superhero drama. It’s always hard to get the love interest involved with the superheroics, Lois Lane being the exception to prove the rule. In every other case, I loathe it when the Reporter job is used, because it feels so derivative of Lois.

The main weakness of this series, I’m thinking, is that excuses have to be generated to keep Spidey and Black Cat from just talking things through and teaming up. Their relationship needs to remain in a constant state of volatility, although sometimes at a low simmer, and that can become contrived.

Also, as shown by my plans here, the end-ship is going to be telegraphed from the start. I think it’s futile to try to make the Black Cat a dark horse in the romantic race like Mary Jane was, because MJ’s success was an accidental result of many contributing factors, including the transition from Stan Lee to Gerry Conway as the primary Spider-Man writer, and then the promotional mandate that had the newspaper comic strip’s marriage between Peter and MJ forced on the main comic line.

Also, I’m not one for real love triangles in fiction. Done right, it just seems like a good way to alienate at least half the audience at the end, while being done poorly is just going to make the ending obvious anyway. It’s fine to throw in spoilers every now and then, but any romance I write is going to end in a predictable way, and the audience is just there to enjoy the ride.

#thekingofwinterblog

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mush-dooms · 6 years ago

Text

Wormtail’s Mistake

Peter didn’t plan on going home with the Weasleys. No, he had hoped to find a wealthy, influential family, not some dirt-poor, blood-traitor scum. But he had been living at the Eeylops Owl Emporium in a tiny, disgusting cage for weeks now, and he was rapidly growing restless. When the red-haired, freckle-faced boy pressed his clean hands against his glass enclosure, Peter did wonder if today would be the day he set his plan in motion. “Mum, mum!” the boy pointed excitedly. “Look at this one! He’s looking right at me!” Peter was on his best behavior. He stood up on his hind legs and gave the boy a little wave-- that’ll do the trick. “Mum! Look! Please, please can I have this one? I’ll take good care of it, I swear! I promise!” His mother, also with fiery red hair, exchanged a worried look with her husband, her fingers twitching as she counted in her head. A pause. “Well... Percy has always been the responsible one,” she murmured to her husband, “and we do have a bit of money to spare since he fits Charlie’s old robes.” She called to her son, who was still watching Peter’s every movement with fascination, “Well, I suppose you can have it, but if I ever catch that thing in the pantry it’ll be gone faster than you can say ‘Hogwarts.’”

. . .

Peter knew very little about the Weasleys prior to moving in with them. Sure, they had been in the order together, but they had only ever exchanged a handful of words. He knew they were poor blood-traitors, that Arthur had a revolting fondness for Muggles, and that they had far too many children. But they had been in the Order, and Arthur was working in the Ministry. Perhaps this family would suffice. He would learn all he could about the workings of the enemy, and some day the Dark Lord will reward him greatly. Yes, Peter had been a spy before, and he would gladly do it again. When the Dark Lord finally returned, Peter will have a hero’s welcome. All will be forgiven. If rats could smile, Peter most certainly would have been.

. . .

It was sheer dumb luck that the Potter boy befriended Ron on the Hogwarts Express. Peter had known right away who the scrawny, dark-haired boy was. He looked so much like James. The Dark Lord will be so pleased with his servant. What better way to get close to the boy than to live with his best friend? Yes, this was a fantastic development. Many times, Peter thought of ending the boy himself. He had stolen everything from his master at the height of his power; the boy had ruined everything. But despite his loyalty to the Dark Lord, some part of Peter never wanted to betray the boy. He saw James in the way Harry’s hair never quite laid flat and in the ease he maneuvered on the Quidditch pitch. He saw Lily in Harry’s bright green eyes and the clever quips that darted from his tongue. He watched him blossom from a scared child who grew up in a cupboard, to a boy who burned with a heart of gold. He knew Harry was supposed to be his enemy, but somewhere, buried deep beneath ugly prejudice and hate, Peter never forgot the Marauders, the ones who first gave him a home. And as the metal hand choked the air from his throat, Peter looked into the eyes of the boy he never meant to love and knew he had made the right decision.

#voldymorts on ig #hp #Harry Potter #peter pettigrew #marauders #hp meta #character analysis #oneshot #fic #writing

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breyito · 6 years ago

Text

Sense of Being

This is my entry for the IronStrange Big Bang! I worked with @thesaintofbowlegs as my artist (stay tunned for the link to the art) and @drxgonstone as my beta.

So sorry for the delay, but I had a really busy day. First day of school an state over, flat shopping all afternoon, schoolwork...anyways, I made it, so, yay!

Thank you @ironstrangehq for putting this together for us!

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Not Team Cap friendly. Adult language.

Other tags: Humor. Fluff. Hurt/comfort. Supremefamily. Cloak ships it. Dum-E & Friday ship it. Peter ships it. They try to help. Team Cap being Dicks, as usual. Cloak & Dum-E teach them a lesson. Pranks.

Summary:

Relics are not something out of the ordinary in the lives of sorcerers. Sentient relics are more unique. But a relic that can express thoughts and emotions as the Cloak does? That's almost unprecedented. There is not much written about the Cloak of Levitation; which doesn't make easier for people to relate to them and understand them. The concept of an object not being a possession, but somewhat their own person is difficult to grasp for many; respect it, even more so.

The fact that Tony Stark, a man who hates everything related to the Mystic Arts didn't even blink when introduced to the Cloak is not something Stephen had the chance to think about when they met (end of the Universe and all that); but it certainly makes him curious now, after things are back to normal.

The contradictions that are part of the Golden Avenger make him even more interesting than he already is; more tempting than he should be. As Stephen and the Cloak start spending more time in the Compound in Tony’s workshop, that is his sanctuary, with his creations; and the two men start opening up to each other. What was only attraction quickly transforms into deeper feelings.

No one saw the implications of what letting Dum-E and the Cloak bond would mean. So really, you really can't blame this one only on Stephen.

Also, Stephen panics. But only minimally.

Read it on: AO3

Finally, the Sanctum was back to its gloomy pre-Hulk-through-the-roof state. Not that it was that time consuming or difficult, but Stephen and Wong had been preoccupied with other matters. Like ensuring the magical shields around the world still held strong and opening lines of communication with the Accords Panel and the Avengers. After Thanos and half the Universe disappearing and reappearing, the Order couldn’t really keep to themselves anymore. More and more threats were showing up every day; and often enough people combined technology with magic, or perverted mystical energy to gain more power. The danger was too big to be able to hide it now. Besides, having backup was actually a nice thing.

Still, many supers were weary of magic. Loki had done a lot to help clear his name; but still, the Avengers first impressions of ‘magic’ as a whole was through Loki and then Wanda Maximoff; both using it to cause harm to others. And while Loki had proved he was under torture and mental manipulation himself (the Mind Stone in Thanos possession was used); Maximoff didn’t had that defense (although she tried to use it, it wasn’t true); and people’s opinion varied a lot from place to place. The world was a bit skeptical, and the hero community even more so. The Panel was logical enough, but Stephen would much rather deal with Rhodes, Danvers or Stark. The meetings at the Avengers Compound were as good an excuse as any to go out, and they provided more than enough social interactions. Many were dull or tense (politicians were really the same in pretty much everywhere and some members were too irritating to talk to for long periods of time); but the Spider kid, Peter, was a delight to spend time with. He was endearing in his awkwardness and was really curious and open to everything Stephen showed him. Besides, he was smart. The kid would grasp concepts really fast and would be an excellent apprentice (if Stephen wasn’t sure Stark would ban him if he thought he was teaching the child magic). The man’s dislike and caution for any type of magic was well known and the Doctor couldn’t really blame him.

Banner and Stark were also very good company. It had been a while since Stephen had indulged in conversation for the pure science of it. He wasn’t studying the Mystic Arts to battle a threat; he was just…chatting with smart people about concepts most humans wouldn’t understand. Peter often joined them, and the kid could relate any topic they were discussing to other things he already knew, rambling about this and that until he noticed and stopped, blushing; to the amusement of the adults.

---{}---

Stephen knew Peter’s intentions were good, but he wished the kid had asked permission before ambushing him with a party.

The teenager had come to visit (as he often did) a day after he and Wong finally ended with the repairs. They had spent a few hours in the library, Peter jumping around like a puppy, going from one relic to the other, asking what they do, who they belonged to, if they were sentient or not and a million other questions. He had turned and asked the Cloak about a hundred things when Stephen told him there were only three registered sentient relics, and only the Cloak was ‘awake’. Those two getting along so well really warmed his heart. It was nice to see Peter’s childish glee when the Cloak took him flying and the Cloak was shivering in excitement the whole time.

When he had to leave to start his patrolling of the city, Peter had asked why he was allowed into the library this time; and when the sorcerer told him why, he had glowed. He started mumbling a mile a minute, about house warming presents (despite the fact that Stephen had lived here for years already) and that a plant could actually ‘live-up’ the place a little, etc. Stephen gave up trying to interrupt him after a few moments and only waved goodbye (along the Cloak, who had given Peter a long hug) when the teen left. He had sighed and turned around with a smile on his face, only to see Wong standing at the end of the stairs.

“That’s going to bite you in the ass,” deadpanned the librarian, before leaving. Strange shared a glance with the Cloak, but they only give him a shrug, so he decided not to take it seriously. After all, he doubted a plant would be that much trouble.

He should’ve known better.

The teen had gone all out for the ‘housewarming party’. He had decorated the stairs, windows, even the ceiling. He had set a table with a lot of food (probably the only reason Wong wasn’t portalling him to an undesirable destination were those delicious deli sandwiches) and even put together a playlist (the Beyoncé songs probably helped too, now that Stephen thinks about it). He had invited people over (a small number, all of them who had been in the Sanctum previously, which both sorcerers appreciated); neither of which was surprised about the fact that the hosts of said party had no idea it was planned.

Going by the mischievous smile on Stark’s face, the Doctor bet Peter’s mentor had indulged this. After all, there was no way a teen without a (paying) job could buy all this food and drinks (some of which were alcoholic, although the soda and juice selection was large too). As of right now, Wong was in deep conversation with Rhodes and Banner and Peter was being dragged around the ‘dance floor’ by Carol and Hope, red as a tomato.

The engineer was standing beside the food table and …conversing with the Cloak? They had dropped Stephen on his ass when the sudden music made the sorcerer appear in the first floor of the Sanctum. The Cloak had launched themselves to the dance floor to ‘show their moves’, and Stephen barely had time to slow down his descent and save some of his pride. Traitorous piece of fabric.

Sighing, the Doctor got up from his seat and walked towards Stark. When the other man saw him a smile spread across his face and the Cloak shook in laughter and dodged him as they flew away. Shaking his head, Stephen let a reluctant smile spread across his lips for a moment. Then he realized the brunette was staring at him and he returned his face to neutrality.

“Capricious, aren’t they?” Stark said, pointing at the Cloak with a tilt of his head. Stephen give himself a few moments to get over his shock.

“They?” he asked, confused. The engineer gave him a funny look and lifted eyebrow.

“Well, yes. Or is it he?” he paused and when the sorcerer didn’t respond, he continued “She? I didn’t want to assume, you know.”

Stephen didn’t answer because he was thinking. Relics were not something out of the ordinary in the lives of sorcerers. Sentient relics were more unique. But a relic that can express thoughts and emotions as the Cloak does? That's almost unprecedented. There was not much written about the Cloak of Levitation; which doesn't make easier for people to relate to them and understand them. The concept of an object not being a possession, but somewhat their own person is difficult to grasp for many people; respect it, even more so.

“Strange?” a hand was in his field of vision, and Stark was looking at him with worried eyes. Stephen shook himself off the zone he was in and gave him a grimace.

“Sorry, just thinking.”

“Just thinking? Jeez, you scared me.” Breathed out the engineer, relaxing. “Also, I don’t buy that you were just ‘thinking’. We discuss science and magic and science all the time, and you never zone out like that.”

“It’s just…you surprised me, that’s all.” The Doctor says, smiling a bit.

“Surprise you…? Oh, because Levi and I get along?” he asks, suddenly all smiles. “They have an excellent sense of humor. Much better than some assholes I know, really-”

“Levi?” Stephen repeats, not able to contain himself. “You gave them a nickname?” he asks, incredulous.

“…yes?” Stark answers, not understanding. “I mean, giving nicknames to people is kind of my thing, you know? And saying ‘the Cloak’ or ‘the Cloak of Levitation’ over and over is such a drag. ‘Cloaky’ is another nickname; although they seem to like ‘Levi’ more.”

Stephen didn’t say anything for a while, trying to come up with something to say. It wasn’t often that the Sorcerer Supreme was left speechless, but it figures that the one to do it would be the so called ‘Golden Avenger’.

“You keep surprising me, Stark. Not many people consider the Cloak as their own being, and those who do never treat it as…well, as a person. And given your experiences with magic, I guess I never expected you to be one of them.”

“Well, I thought, if they were smart enough to know quality and slap me in the ass…” Tony winked, laugh dancing in his eyes. And what an ass, the thought suddenly entered his head and he cleared his throat, the back of his neck suddenly on fire.

“Yes, well…” Stephen grabbed a glass of lemonade to cool him down a bit. Usually, when he was attracted to people, he noticed right away, because it was mostly on a physical level. But Stark? He was certainly handsome, with those doe eyes and fluffy hair (and if he took those words from the post Peter read to him, sue him, because they fit) but also…also, he was intelligent and a sarcastic little shit and could totally sass you to dead. He effortlessly kept up with Stephen, and he was full of contradictions. Stephen was a little afraid of admitting it, but he was…infatuated with the man. God help him.

“Also” the engineer interrupted him “if I can create sentient living and thinking beings out of codes and technology; why couldn’t magic do the same? For all I knew, Levi was Wong’s and your brainchild.” Stephen choked on the sip he had taken, and coughed until he was red in the face.

When the sorcerer got his breath back, he saw Stark leaning back against the table and smirking at him. You could just tell he had timed his phrasing just so Stephen would choke. That little- But before he could say anything, or finish another thought, the other man started speaking.

“Come on, I want you to meet a few people.” He just started walking, not glancing back to see if the sorcerer was behind or not. Still Stephen followed him. “Think you can make a portal to the Compound? I don’t want to take the car and leave Rhodey and the kid without means for transportation. Besides, I promised Happy a few free hours.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to portal inside your Compound.”

“I usually wouldn’t, but I already let FRIDAY know that we might be dropping by, through magical taxi.”

“Please don’t call it that.” Still, Stephen took his Sling Ring out of his robes and put it on. As soon as he did, though, the Cloak came rushing in, enveloping him and making him stumble a little. “Oh, there you are. Bailed on somebody else, uh?” he asked, mock-offended. The Cloak patted him on the cheek as an apology and Tony just smiled, waiting. Stephen sighed and opened the portal in the kitchen of the Compound.

---{}---

Tony (and he was Tony now, the man himself had asked Stephen to call him that instead of ‘Stark’) had offered the sorcerer something to eat and/or drink as soon as they finished walking through the portal; as if they hadn’t just been in a party with an impressive catering.

When Stephen refused they moved along to the elevator and got in. After some throughout checks, it started moving- downwards. Stephen had been on the open labs, a sort of ‘communal space’ for the scientists of the Avengers, and they were impressive. But he had also heard a lot about Tony’s private workshop/lab; where only a handful of people were allowed in (Rhodes, Ms Potts, Harley and Peter were pretty much it; unless Bruce and Tony were working in a specific project). He was surprised to be heading there, to be honest. Even when they were talking through some ideas for the new line of medical equipment and prototypes SI had been developing and discussing what was already in market and how it could be improved upon; it was always in the communal labs. The Doctor never took offence to that, because he didn’t invite (often, Peter was an exception) to the Sanctum, even less to the library. But before he had the chance to ask Tony what they were about to do (or who they were about to meet, more precisely), the doors opened and Stephen was awestruck.

The place was stunning. Stephen couldn’t help himself as he entered; walking further and further into the workshop. From an aesthetic and scientific perspective; the whole room was full of wonders. Three dimensional holograms, data of all kinds filling the screens, armor and prototypes and so many wonderful things. There was much else that he didn’t understand, of course, as his specialty wasn’t engineering, electronics or computer coding (or any of the seven PhDs the man had).

But the most beautiful thing about the place wasn’t what Stephen could see, but what he could feel. There was an energy emanating from every inch of the room: chaotic but controlled, maniac but creative and so, so joyful. This was a Sanctum all on its own, this was Tony’s sanctuary. Stephen could understand why the man would allow only the closest people to him to enter. And whatever he had done to deserve the invitation, he would try and do it again.

(It was a mystery how people could be so wrong about something as obvious as this was. ‘It’s a dangerous place when he loses himself in it.’ Said Romanoff. ‘So secretive, who know what kind of shit he’s doing down there?’ Barton spat. ‘I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to deal with another of his hand-made monsters’ added Maximoff, grinding her teeth. Rogers opted not to say anything, even if his face showed just how disappointed he was not to be invited along Rhodey, Peter and Vision, as they walked to the elevator).

“So?” Tony asked, shaking the Doctor from his thoughts. “What do you think?”

“I…I think this place is amazing, Tony. I just…have no words.”

“Wow. That much, uh? I knew you guys lived in the Stone Age, but I didn’t think your reaction would surpass Barnes’.” He joked.

“It’s not the tech that has me without words, Tony, it’s…you.” Stephen caught the blush on the engineer’s face and winked at him, which made the blush spread further. So pretty…he thought, then interrupted himself by explaining: “The amount of energy emanating from this place is so great I’m not sure why I never felt it before. It makes me want to smile, to be honest. The pure joy you must feel creating, for it to feel that way.” The blush on Tony’s cheeks deepened even more, but the genius talked before he could continue.

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Well! I actually wanted to introduce you to...where are you, buddy?” he called, looking around. A beeping sound came from right behind Stephen, and he and the Cloak (who so far had been basking in the energy of the room) jumped, turning around and taking defensive positions. What Stephen saw next was…not at all what he expected (but then, this whole day had been full of surprises courtesy of Tony Stark, so why should he even try to guess what was going to happen). A big metal…machine, with an arm? Claw? Holding a fire extinguisher was looking at them both through a camera, moving it this way and that, taking them in, as it continued beeping curiously.

“Please don’t kill my son. He might be useless as a bucket,” the beeping went low and sad at this, at the same time the claw moved down “but he’s still family.” Another beep came from the machine as it moved forwards, towards the engineer that opened his arms with a smile and patted the arm. “His name is Dum-E.”

The Cloak came off Stephen’s shoulders at that, floating cautiously towards the machine. They poked the metal and scurried off when Dum-E tried to grab them.

“Dum-E, seriously?” the Sorcerer asked, watching transfixed as the Cloak and the machine circled one another, poking and lightly touching each other, like in a game.

“Hey. I was 17 and drunk off my ass when I first turned him on. He didn’t respond so I…might have insulted his motherboard. The next morning, when he did respond, the only name that he would listen to was that one.”

“I suppose your professors weren’t much impressed with that.”

“Oh, they were impressed alright. By the AI, not by the name.” Tony said, snorting.

A high pitched beep caught their attention. The Cloak had decided to envelop Dum-E and the poor thing couldn’t see.

“Levi! Careful, yeah? He needs the lens to see. The dark scares him.” Tony explained, as the Cloak backed off. The Cloak-Levi, seemed ashamed. “Oh, don’t worry. He’s okay, right Dum-E?” the beeping from the AI, the Cloak cheered up.

{---{---{---}---}---}

They spent hours on the lab, just talking and working and seeing Levi and Dum-E become friends. They both had similar taste in humor, constantly play-pranking each other.

It was probably by this instance when they should have realized that those two spending so much time together wasn’t going to end well.

But as smart as they were, neither Stephen nor Tony saw the consequences coming.

{---{---{---}---}---}

It was already pretty late when Tony’s stomach growled in hunger and they finally checked the time. The Doctor was surprised at the hour: ten pm. Wong must be worried, or at least irritated with him, for skipping on his duties without notice. They decided to head to the kitchen to get a bite first, and then Stephen and Levi would leave for the Sanctum. But Dum-E let out a pitiful noise at the thought of leaving his new friend out of his sight; so Tony agreed to let him follow them to the kitchen, the AI beeping excitedly the whole way.

While Tony set them up with some quick sandwiches, Stephen washed the used utensils and returned the ingredients to their place with a few flicks of the wrist.

“Practical.” Smirked Tony, amused.

“Don’t tell Wong about it. He…disapproves of using our skills in such manner.” Tony snorted, because he was pretty sure he saw Wong that same day throwing some things to the trash can via magic; but said nothing.

After they were through with their food the genius offered him a smoothie. Just as he was about to decline, the Cloak went rigid behind him and Stephen, in reaction, tensed too. A second later Barton and Maximoff came into the room, stopping when they saw that it was already occupied. Instead of leaving though, they continued on; the witch to the fridge and the archer hopped on the counter, insolence pouring off him in waves.

“Heard there was a party today.” Barton said, taking an apple from the plate on the counter and biting into it. He chewed absurdly loud for a few moments, maintaining what he obviously thought was a mean glare, and then carried on: “Curious. I wasn’t invited. Neither was Wanda, Natasha, Sam or Steve.” He finished the sentence looking at Tony’s direction, like daring him to deny it.

The engineer just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

“That’s what happens when you are an asshole to everyone; I suppose.” he said, sighing.

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Barton sneered, taking another bite.

“Maybe, but at least I own up to my behavior.”

“Right,” Maximoff interrupted; “like you didn’t convince the only magic user apart from me on the team to not let me put a foot inside his ‘Sanctum’” she spat, eyes throwing poison.

“It is not ‘mine’ and you know why you can’t ‘put a foot inside’ the Sanctum, Ms Maximoff. We give you a chance to learn how to use your powers properly, but you declined.” A pause. “Rather vehemently.”

“You wanted me to go live in China to get rid of me! And you wanted to control my powers, like that collar did.”

There was an uncomfortable pause in the kitchen, while both geniuses looked at each other with incredulity. Levi was also glaring at the witch, not the she could tell.

“…Nepal is a country on its own right, Maximoff.” Tony said, slowly. The woman blushed, but pushed through.

“That’s not the point! The-”

“-the point is that we refused to treat you in a special way, and you threw a tantrum that destroyed some pieces of furniture and part of the common room in the East Wing.” Strange finished, in a dry tone.

“How are the payments for that going, by the way?” Tony asked, because he knew that all the Rogues (minus Lang, cause he actually has a brain sometimes) were pitching in to pay for the damages; even if it was only her fault.

Wanda sneered and opened her mouth to spit threats at the same time red sparks came off her fingertips; when white foam filled her mouth and covered her whole. There was a shocked, thick silence for a few moments, before a cheery ‘beep’ from Dum-E broke it and both men started laughing; while Barton passed the woman a kitchen rag to wipe the foam off.

“What the fuck is that thing, Stark? Another murder robot with a savior complex?” the archer asked, glaring at the bot.

“This is Dum-E, my first AI. And even though he is not as advanced as JARVIS or FRIDAY; I’m pretty sure he is more mature than you.”

“Oh, fuck you, Stark.”

With that, Barton led Maximoff out of the kitchen. Tony and Stephen turned to watch them go.

“Thing is, I’m pretty sure that Dum-E was just trying to help and avoid a fire.” The engineer said, fighting against the smile that wanted to spread across his face. Stephen snorted.

Behind them, Levi was offering a border of their fabric to Dum-E; to seal their pact.

FRIDAY could have probably said something. But she didn’t, because she didn’t appreciate the comparison between Ultron and her brother. Especially when the only creator of Ultron that did never pay for her part was involved.

---{}---

The Cloak is pouting again; if you can call it that. They are following Stephen around the Sanctum (Levi does not usually do that, unless there’s nothing else to do and/or the Doctor needs help with something); but in a slow manner, dragging their edges along the floor, collar down. Sighing, of all things. They seem sad.

Thing is, Stephen knows why. He and Wong had been watching the news on his laptop, when a report on how Tony Stark and his newest protégés are doing as of late (with the Rogues back in the States; despite the people’s displeasure with them) came on; and Levi had whooshed in to watch it in a second. Stephen was actually gonna watch that segment; because he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the other man the whole week and him picking Peter’s brain to know how the other was doing was getting obvious and ridiculous.

But Wong had looked at him, and so Stephen had closed that window and opened Spotify, to play some Beyoncé songs that would improve the other man’s mood. The Cloak had tried to pull his arm away, but it was already too late. Levi had tried to change it back, but Stephen had scolded them and slapped the fabric away. The Cloak had looked scandalized and hurt, but stopped. Instead, they had followed him all day, behaving pitifully, glancing his way and sighing, still looking hurt.

Stephen was sure it was all a ruse, but he couldn’t stop feeling a little guilt. So, after finishing the book he was reading, he came to a decision.

“Fine, you childish thing; I’ll take you to the Compound so you can make sure he’s fine.” The Cloak had looked up at that, and threw themselves at Stephen, enfolding him in the vibrating fabric. The Doctor allowed the hug and gave them a few pats before shaking them off and putting on his Sling Ring.

He opened a portal a few hundred feet away from the main building, in one of the many green areas. Tony had allowed him to open portals in his property, but never inside the building; except for the day of the party. He claimed that when he was sleep-deprived he couldn’t be accountable for attacking someone that showed up from nowhere. (Stephen hadn’t listened and often portaled himself in the building anyways; until the time he lost a good chunk of his hair to a repulsor beam, to Wong’s and Tony’s amusement. He had never done that again.)

But Levi didn’t immediately fly away, as Stephen was expecting. Instead it twisted around his arm and dragged him to the automatic doors, which opened as the same time FRIDAY greeted them.

“Welcome back, Dr. Strange. Boss is in his workshop, if you want to talk to him. I’m sure Dum-E will be very pleased to spend time with Levi again.” Said garment shivered in excitement, but kept dragging the Doctor through the building towards the elevator.

“Hello, FRIDAY. Actually, I- wait, I have authorization to go to his private lab?” Stephen asked, puzzled.

“Boss added you and Levi to the list of approved people after your visit last week.”

“Figures,” the voice startled Stephen and he turned to see he had entered the living room where a few of the Avengers were present, and they were all looking at the picture Levi and he presented; “the whacky wizard Stark barely knows gets an invitation; but his teammates from years are not allowed to go down the elevator.” Barton finished, spitting out the words.

“Clint, come on.” Bruce says. He was sitting in the couch besides Vision, looking at a Stark Tablet. “That’s not fair.”

“You are allowed into Tony’s workshop?” Romanoff asks, changing her posture from lush against the arms of the loveseat to sitting upright. “That’s an interesting development.”

“Is it?” the archer continued from where he was sitting on the floor. “I feel like it is only natural: two know-it-all, ‘great facial hair’ douchebags get along; what a surprise!” the man had obviously been drinking, even if it was only early afternoon.

“Clint, please stop.” Rogers interferes before the other man can say something that will get him in trouble. Harassment of a team member is something the Council is not in favor of, surprisingly. The reason Wong won’t come around often? He got tired of Barton’s ‘jokes’ and Romanoff mocking demeanor and dumped them in a frozen lake in Alaska (unfortunately the lake wasn’t completely frozen, so when he eventually transported them back they were all wet and cold). The Council had no way of discipline Wong because he hadn’t signed the Accords and witnesses had pretty much agreed they deserved it; so they had asked him not to send team members to possible crippling places in the future. Wong had decided it was easier for ‘decent people’ to come to him in the Sanctum and had reduced his visits (also, the ‘Rogues’ tended to disappear pretty quickly when he came by). “When did this happen, Strange?” he asked instead, like he hoped he could do the same and get an invite also.

“I bet it was when Ultron’s younger brother attacked Wanda with the fire extinguisher.” The archer muttered.

“My brother is in no way related to the entity you refer as ULTRON.” FRIDAY suddenly interrupted. “He was trying to prevent a fire or some other ‘accidents’ that tend to happen when the Scarlett Witch throws a tantrum.” Her voice was cold and flat, demeaning. No one in the room could exactly call foul play, because this common room had been refurnished pretty much entirely from the last of her ‘accidents’. Levi shook in laughter, remembering.

To avoid any other uncomfortable interactions, Bruce passed the tablet at Vision and got up.

“Come on, Strange; I have something to show Tony too.” Together they walked to the elevator and Levi seated themselves on Stephen shoulders.

{---{---{---}---}---}

Turns out, Bruce was just removing himself from a tense situation and had nothing to show to Tony; so he just stood as Stephen and Levi left the elevator and FRIDAY took him to the cafeteria.

Stephen was a little apprehensive to just show up unannounced with no real reason to be there (there wasn’t an emergency, or a project to work on, or heck, an open invitation). It was one thing to portal Levi and leave them to their own devices and another thing entirely to just barge in uninvited. Still, as soon as the doors opened Peter greeted them warmly.

“Doctor Wizard! Levi! Come one in!” the teen said, as he kept throwing a bouncy ball to the wall and jumping to catch it before Dum-E could, much to the robot’s displeasure. Levi whooshed in and joined them, catching the ball before even Peter could.

“Strange?” said Tony, who was under a car. He rolled out and got up, cleaning his hands on his t-shirt. “Oh, great! You brought Levi back. Dum-E has been moping all around the place the whole week.” He joked, amused at the party behind them.

“Yes, well, he wasn’t the only one.” Stephen said “Levi amped up the pitiful act to eleven so I’d open a portal here.”

“Wow. You didn’t want to come back that badly?” Tony joked, although his warm brown eyes seemed sad all of the sudden.

“No! I mean, yes, I wanted to come back, but I…didn’t know if I was welcomed.” Stephen said, blushing. Tony seemed amused by the response, but that smile reached his eyes again, so the Doctor counted that as a win. The engineer turned to one of the screens and started to shut down some things as he continued the conversation.

“You have an open invitation, Doc.” He said, winking. “I was about to take a shower in my rooms, if you want to join me?” he asked, distracted.

“My, how forward of you, Tony” Strange teased, arching one eyebrow. The genius snorted out a laugh.

“Sorry, was distracted. I mean I am going to my room to shower and want to know if you prefer to stay here with the kids or go up with me and wait for me and then maybe, I don’t know, have a drink?” he rephrased, looking at Stephen from beneath his eyelashes.

This man is truly a menace, the Sorcerer thought. A joyful scream made them both jump, and both turned to watch Levi and Dum-E trying to catch Peter this time.

“I think I will join you, yes.”

“FRIDAY, love, try to let them not completely destroy my lab?” Tony asked, as they walked out.

“I’ll try, Boss; but I make no promises.” She wisely answered.

---{}---

Unbeknown to both of them; the two AIs, the relic and the teenager were planning how to get revenge on the Rogues. No one should compare Dum-E to ULTRON twice and get away with it. Not on Peter’s watch. (Also, they might be gossiping about how Dr Strange and Mr. Stark make the cutest couple).

---{}---

After that night, visits happened more often. Even with their tight schedules, their…friendship developed rapidly. Although friendship might not be the right word. It almost seemed they were…courting each other, old as that term was. (Wong certainly seemed to think that, as well as Rhodes, who had given him a terrifying version of the ‘shovel talk’ that Stephen prefers not to think about).

Tony passed by when he could, but even when he couldn’t, or wasn’t even in the country or heck, the continent, he sent something to be delivered to the Sanctum. Either sweets, or books or some clothing item that he think would look good on Stephen. Wong had been irritated until the deliveries brought food, and now was all for it, eagerly receiving the people at the door. Much to the Doctor’s amusement, whenever those items weren’t food, they would end thrown in a corner until he found them, and Wong would be in a bad mood for the rest of the day.

Probably the sweetest of all those presents was the vinyl music collection of ABBA that Tony had sent him. He remembered their talk that first night they spent drinking in Tony’s room. Stephen had confided him how much he missed to be able to go home and relax to the sound of this music; because even if he had the songs on Spotify’s playlist it…just wasn’t the same as hearing them from vinyl.

He also remembered Tony’s confession about how much he missed the cooking of Ana, Jarvis’. The pair had raised him while working for his father, basically, and his favorite Hungarian food was difficult to come by. By chance or by fate, Stephen had helped a Hungarian family in the neighborhood to get rid of some nasty demons a few months back; and when he asked the Mrs. Varga for some Pörkölt she was very happy to do so (said something about him being too alone) for him.

The smile that the engineer gifted Stephen when he the Sorcerer presented him with the stew was how he knew that he was totally lost. He had fallen in love with Tony Stark. (Again).

Crap.

{---{---{---}---}---}

The Sorcerer had no idea why he was behaving as a pubescent kid, but his panicking started almost two weeks ago and showed no signs of stopping. Since his realization Stephen had been avoiding going to the Compound. He guessed it had something to do with seeing himself falling in love with the genius in thousands and thousands of alternate universes. And being witness to how beautiful their relationship could become; or how painful it could end.

So, he only appeared in the building for Avengers meetings and prior commitments, which he didn’t bother to re-make, all to avoid going there and seeing the man he desperately wanted to see. Fortunately, he did had work to do, and that stopped him from thinking too much about the genius that had taken hold of his heart. Guarding their reality was a taxing job at times; and whenever that didn’t keep him occupied, there were hundreds of books and spells that he has yet to learn.

Levi, however, had been going there more and more. At first he had bothered Stephen or Wong until either of them opened a portal for they to go through; but the Doctor had been vehemently refusing to do so for days, and Wong had gotten tired of being used as a taxi service. Nonetheless, after Peter passed by one day and offered to take Levi swinging, the Cloak often waited for him. If the teen had to cancel, Levi gave a full-body sigh and flew there themselves.

Levi still tried to convince him to stay a bit longer whenever they had to show up at debriefings, but Stephen had less and less reason to. The last couple of meeting had been filled with complaints from the Rogues about cold showers, tampered leftovers, color-changing shampoo, missing underwear and other things. The Rogues were convinced that someone on the new roaster was playing pranks on them, but after Stephen had cast a truth bonding spell on all new members and found no culprit, they had turned on one another.

It had been amusing the first few times (Rhodes, Peter and Carol were certainly laughing); but it was getting more and more tiresome as things escalated to full-bodied brawls and a ´prank war´ that had no respect for other people. When his cellphone started ringing and he saw it was Peter he answered in a heartbeat; the kid had only texted him so far, never called.

“Peter? Is everything okay?” he asked, already up.

“…I’m not Peter.” Tony answered.

“Why are you calling from his phone?” Stephen asked, suspicious.

“I figured you wouldn’t answer if it was my number. And anyways, I’m calling from the kid’s phone because he broke mine!” he yelled (the Doctor supposed it was to said teen, and this was confirmed when he heard a high pitched ‘Dum-E did it!’ and then ‘He rolled over it because you took it from me and threw it to the other side of the room!’ on the other side).

“Alright. And this has to do with me because…?”

“Oh, did I forget to mention Levi is here with us?” at Stephen’s groan Tony continued “Believe me, this has everything to do with you.”

{---{---{---}---}---}

The Doctor had taken a few minutes to gather himself. He changed into a proper attire and styled his hair a bit. He was nervous. Usually Levi was there whenever he needed someone to distract him or cheer him up; but right now, they were the reason he was being forced to see Tony. Could he still call him Tony, after two weeks of silent treatment for no reason? He hoped so. Maybe this was a good thing, after all. He had to mend their relationship, even if after his stupid panic Tony only offered him friendship.

Now even more nervous; he put on his Sling Ring and opened a portal to the Avengers’ living room, as instructed.

“You sure took your sweet time to get your ass here, Strange.” Barton said in a mocking tone. “Too busy looking in the mirror?”

“Too busy closing doorways into other dimensions that morons such as yourself open and don’t know how to close.” He responded, not missing a bit. He had been doing that earlier in the day. Also, he was done with this man’s attitude.

“Well, your magic cape has been taking our stuff and poisoning us for weeks! Did you order it to do it?” Maximoff snapped from the other side of the room. Now that Stephen turned, he saw the state of the living. It was a disaster.

“One, I can’t order them like some kind of mindless dog. Two, Levi is their own person. Three, Levi is a Cloak. And fourth…I had no idea that was happening. I honestly thought one of you reversed to the mentality of a kindergarten brats (not that it would take much, but still).”

“Oh, you fucking prick-”

“Stop.” The sharp voice belonged to Tony, and Stephen immediately lowered his hands, that went up in position when the archer took the first step forward. “All of you, out.” At the glares of the Rogues, he stood his ground and glared back. “Out. Stephen is responsible for Levi and I am responsible for Dum-E and Peter. These are pranks from children, so we will treat them like that. You have no part in this.”

“We were the ones that had to-” Rogers started.

“Did I ask for your opinion, Rogers? No. Now, as your commanding officer, I am ordering you to leave this area.”

The tension grew exponentially, and it seemed that a real battle would unfold in the middle of the living room, but the redhead spy put her hands on the arms of Barton and Rogers and they shared a long look. Finally, they left the area.

A few moments of silence followed, and Stephen could see the tension leaving Peter’s body along with Levi’s, and even Dum-E lifted his claw a bit. But before Stephen could say anything or ask anything; Tony walked towards the sofa and plummeted on it; supporting his elbows on his knees and hiding his face on his hands. He looked so…tired and defeated. Stephen would have sat down beside him and offer him comfort, but the truth was; he didn’t know if he was allowed to do that anymore.

“Tony?” he asked softly, trying not to startle the man and get his stress higher. “Wha-”

“Did you had to do that!?” he yelled, making everyone in the room jump. The kids (and yes, Stephen was totally including an ancient relic in the bag, seeing as they pranked the Rogues like a child would) looked guilty and ashamed. “Did you had to put bugs in Wilson’s leftovers, and replace Maximoff’s talcum powder with itchy powder” Tony got up and walked to the window, showing his back to the rest of the room; his whole body was trembling with rage “and steal all of Barton’s underwear and-and die Captain America’s hair r-red, white and-and bl-blue?” at this last part he burst out laughing; having to support himself on the glass not to fall to the floor.

Peter and Stephen were left gaping at him, not believing their eyes. Levi remained still for a minute, before he started to shiver in the way they did when something was terribly funny to them. Dum-E, watching his friend, gave a hopeful ‘beep’ that took Peter out of his stupor.

“Mr. Stark!” he screamed, smiling. “I thought you were mad at us!” he mocked-accused.

“Oh, I totally am mad at you.” The genius said, wiping tears away. “And me and May will totally punish you.” Peter stilled again, incredulity and fear seeping out of him. “But what’s done it’s done, and I can at least enjoy it a bit, can’t I?” he smirked.

“Boss, I think-” FRIDAY started, but Tony interrupted her.

“Oh, don’t you think I don’t know what you did. Covering for them and lying (to me)?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about, Boss.”

“Of course you do. I am sure you helped them.”

“Boss-”

“-As I am also sure you saved me some pictures and embarrassing videos, right baby girl?”

“…That might be a correct assumption.”

Tony laughed a bit more at that, before sighing and sitting down on the sofa again. Stephen hadn’t moved since the genius’ first outburst, but he shook his head to clear it (somehow this seemed weirder than the ‘Pet-Vengers’ dimension he had closed this morning).

“That’s it?” he asked, disbelieving. “You are not going to-”

“To what? Yell at them some more? I scared the crap out of them already.” He answered briskly. “And there will be punishments. Just…not right now. Right now, I’m enjoying this feeling.”

“Feeling of what?”

“Victory.” He paused. “Or something like it. It feels good either way.”

“Ton-”

“Besides, look at them!” Tony exclaimed, interrupting him; it was clear he didn’t want to listen to Stephen very much. The genius pointed at the trio of troublemakers that were playing once more. “They are proud of what they did.”

“All the more reason to lecture them. Maybe the Rogues had it coming, but that’s no reason to just let them get away with it.” Stephen didn’t know why he was even fighting this. He supposed there should be one responsible adult in the room; but why did it have to be him? The last thing he wanted to do right now was fight with Tony.

“I will lecture Dum-E, but at this point I don’t think it’ll matter. He’s had thirty years to learn how to be stubborn and ignore me, really. I will forbid visits from Levi for two weeks, though, that’s the only punishment I can think of that will hit him.” By the sad and angry beeps coming from the other side of the room, the AI had heard them and wasn’t pleased with the news. “Don’t look at me like that, mister.” Tony said firmly. “Peter, come here.” he called. The teen looked like a deer in headlights, and walked slowly towards them, twisting his hands together.

“Mr. Stark?” he hesitantly asked.

“I will call May and tell her what you did-” Peter opened his mouth to protest “-shut it, this is for the adults to decide on. You do deserve a punishment, for lying to me and causing so much damage. I can say, for my part, that your training sessions will be on stand-by for a time, while you help clean and repair the mess that is our living room. I am sure your Aunt will think of something else to add to your penance.” The teen had lowered his eyes once more but raised his head when his mentor called his name again “Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark.”

“Levi is all your, though. I won’t help you there.” the engineer said, quickly. Stephen guessed he deserved that. He wouldn’t want to deal with an ancient relic that can probably wield magic on their own either (he suspected the death and re-appearing spiders on Romanoff’s bed was an old curse that he hadn’t being able to crack yet).

“Alright. I’ll take Levi back-”

“No, no, no. Kids,” Peter, Dum-E and Levi looked up, even if they seemed resentful of the honorific “I want to know why you did this.”

“Really? They wanted payback, isn’t obvious?” the Doctor replied, arching an eyebrow.

“But that’s not it.” Tony said, walking around the trio. The fidgeted on their spots, not looking at either adult. “The pranks could have gone on for weeks before someone finally caught on, and what’s more, actually got evidence. They wouldn’t quit that for nothing.” Tony stopped and stood with his arms on his hips (Stephen had to swallow a snort at the eerily similarity between Tony and his own mother in the same position; sure that the genius wouldn’t appreciate the comparison). So he just crossed his arms and gave the trio his best glare, trying to show an united front.

It shouldn’t take much longer, Stephen thought, one of them will break soon…

“Wejustwantedyoutomakeup!” Peter yelled, giving in. The Sorcerer had to repeat and break down the sentence a couple of times in his mind to understand it, at the same time as Tony, apparently, because both blushed deeply.

“Pete-”

“I am sorry for the mess (not for the jokes, tho, those were hilarious and so worthy) but you were so unhappy!” the teen continued with his rant, not paying attention at his mentor frantically trying to shut him up. The Doctor felt a pang of guilt in his chest.

“Kid-”

“You were miserable. And Dr. Strange wouldn’t visit for any reason so we had to do something that would force him to come and stay for more than five minutes. And the only way we came up with was getting caught.”

“Spiderling-”

“This big mess wasn’t part of the plan, believe me. But we had to get you two together in the same place and-”

“Peter! Enough!” Tony finally yelled, shutting the kid up. The genius sighed and ran his hand through his hair, before grabbing Peter by the shoulder. “Look, I appreciate what you (all of you) wanted to do, but you can’t force people to be in the same space when one of them obviously doesn’t want that. Boundaries, buddy. Just because I was sad and you wanted to see me better-”

“You think I’m only talking about you? Dr. Strange was also moping all over his books. Mr. Wong couldn’t stand his sighs and lost looks anymore.” The teen interrupted. Tony startled a bit at this but blinked it away.

“I’m sure it seemed that way, but-”

“He is right, Tony.” Stephen interrupted softly but firmly. He would not let this opportunity pass. “I was sad and unhappy, although ‘moping’ is-”

“-the right term for a person that spends their time mournfully looking at gifts someone else gave them; and for someone that sighs every five minutes because they are thinking of that special person; and if they are a mess-” Peter was interrupted when the Sorcerer cleared his throat loudly “-shutting up now.”

“As hard it is to admit it; the kid is right.” Stephen said, looking flustered. Tony squinted his eyes and crossed his arms, his body language defensive as hell.

Both adults focused on one another and ignored the audience they had (said audience wasn’t mature enough to leave them alone; more likely to take pictures of whatever outcome came to pass). The engineer looked at Stephen in the eye defiantly.

“I don’t buy it. If you were so ‘miserable’” you could practically hear the comas there “why stay away? I tried calling and texting, I went by the Sanctum and asked you to stay, but you just…ignored me.” He finished, hurt. Stephen closed his eyes and breathed through his closed throat.

“I know. I just…” he couldn’t find the words. The Sorcerer really wanted to fix this, but his brain was drawing a blank right now. How could he explain that he was so terrified of fucking things up that he had in fact, fucked things up?

“You just what?” Tony questioned, exasperated, after a few moments of silence. When the other man didn’t say a word, he threw his hands in the air and turned around, ready to leave.

“I was afraid I was going to lose you!” Stephen blurted out and then cringed. He knew what was coming. Tony turned around again and just looked at him.

“You were afraid you were gonna lose me, so you pushed me away?” he asked.

“That doesn’t make a lot of sense, but it’s the truth.” Said the Doctor, taking a few steps until he was at the edge of entering Tony’s personal space.

“I don’t get it.” Stephen closed his fists and breathed out, reading himself to finally explain what was going through his mind.

“When we were in Titan, I saw millions of futures. In a few hundred thousand, we ended up together.” Stephen could see the barrier in Tony’s eyes breaking down a bit, so he took another step. “And Tony, we have so much potential. We could be so, so happy together.” He whispered, taking one trembling hand and placing it on the other man’s cheek. “Or we could end up so broken. We could hurt each other so much; or lose each other to our duties. Or worse: we could be blissfully happy despite everything the world threw at us, and then one of us would die and leave the other a hollow husk.” Stephen swallowed, and this time Tony took his other hand with one of his own. “I wanted…I didn’t want to make mistakes… and I was so afraid I would ruin everything. And for not telling you and talking to you about it, I ruined things anyway.” He said, dropping his head.

“Almost.” Tony whispered. Stephen looked up. “You almost ruined things.” The genius raised his free hand and cupped the sorcerer’s face, caressing his cheek with his thumb. “I could tell right from the beginning that we had potential, and I didn’t need a shiny rock to do so. I could tell by just looking at us. We…we just fit.” Tony stood on his tiptoes and kissed Stephen’s cheek softly, before breathing on his lips and looking at him in the eye. “We will always make mistakes, Stephen.” He kissed the man in the other cheek without breaking eye contact and went back to breathing on his lips “But hid something like this from me again and I’ll kill you.” He threatened, before smashing his lips against the other man’s. Stephen’s eyes went wide at the threat but closed immediately at the smoothness of Tony’s mouth.

They kissed passionately; Tony taking charge and biting lightly; making sure to prove his threat wasn’t in vain. Stephen let the genius guide the kiss for a few moments, before he closed his hand on the nape of Tony’s neck, hair between his fingers and demanded the brunette to allow him entrance. The engineer groaned into Stephen’s mouth and went pliant.

“Okay, that was cute but now it’s going into the ‘my-parents-are-kissing’ gross level.” Peter said, completely breaking the mood. “You should leave that for the bedroom, really.”

Tony planted his face on Stephen’s chest and groaned. The sorcerer kept his eyes closed despite the beeping sounds and his curiosity. He felt completely at ease.

“You got what you wanted. You couldn’t just leave?” he moaned.

“Nope, no way.” The teen smirked. “We are going to hold this over both of you forever. We were right! We were right!” he sang at the rhythm of Dum-E’s beeps.

The Doctor finally opened his eyes and he found that their three troublemakers were dancing at Dum-E’s beat; Peter with a huge smile on his face, Levi swooshing all around them and Dum-E spinning in circles.

He shared a look with Tony and both chuckled.

Their family might be weird and unique, but it was theirs.

#ironstrangebigbang #ironstrange #breyito writes

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