#tall man harasses short friend and nearly gets himself murdered

[midnight-vixn]

Your honor, they’re idiots and I love them

[yhwhsdaughter]

HQ!! Manager being protective when people insult their player

(ft. oikawa, hinata, tanaka, yachi, osamu, kuroo)

Warnings: threats, physical altercations, bullying, public humiliation

I usually don’t condone the usage of violence, but I woke up mad today lmao

OIKAWA

the pretty setter was getting ready to serve, his fangirls screaming in support while the rest of the team took a break.

to the side were a couple of guys staring in jealousy, “heh, his weak ass gets a big ego just because—”

they continued their insults and while they didn’t reach oikawa, his team members certainly heard it all

teasing oikawa was different when it came from them because they genuinely cared about him,, but for someone else to continuously bully the setter without reason?? it was infuriating

before any of them could kick their asses, their manager approached them.

(name) was perhaps the most polite individual they’d met; always patient and kind despite their antics

“ah, i can see the misunderstanding that oikawa is a weakling. he’s got a broken knee and constantly pushes himself despite the excruciating pain.”

the aura surrounding them suddenly turned dark and cold as (name) clutched the shoulder of the main bully with an iron grip

“what about you? shall i break your knee so we can find out if you’re stronger than him?”

at that moment, their gentle mannered manager had the eyes of a beast, unyielding as the guy tried to escape their grip

when they left, the players approached (name) who still glared in that direction. “woah we didn’t know you could be so scary (name)”

now calmer, they replied, “you’re my team, i would kill anyone that tries harm you.”

it was such a matter-of-fact that the males couldn’t help but laugh “haha you’re funny too”

“am i laughing?”

that day they learned their precious manager would deadass commit murder for them

extra: when oikawa found you defended him, he ran with open arms, “(name)-channnnn marry me!” squeezing the life out of you

HINATA

competition hadn’t even started and people were already shit talking karasuno

“flightless crows” blah blah blah

as their third manager, you would be in the benches with yachi, supporting the team

however, hinata had gone to the bathroom and he wasn’t back. daichi had sent you to get him since the game was about to start

you found the team’s sunshine nearly corned by a tall player “aah you’re so short and you’re a middle blocker?? i’ll be looking down on you little shrimp!”

he didn’t get to say more because your leg swiftly hit the back of his knees, falling to the ground harshly.

no one and i mean no one messes with hinata without you getting a few hits in, regardless height

“oh look. you’re below him now”

mans was lucky y’all were in a competition, otherwise he wouldn’t have left unscathed

with that, you steered your baby hinata away from that asshole, throwing him a dirty look in case he wanted to try anything

if he did, you would not hold back. literally on sight

fyi hinata was totally not blushing the entire way back. everytime you approach him now he gets all flustered

everyone else is like ???

TANAKA

the ladies man, tanaka had encountered a group of attractive girls at the arcade so he decided to shoot his shot

when they declined, tanaka was prepared to leave them alone, respectful of a woman’s boundaries, but they decided to verbally attack him

“who’d wanna go out with you?” “yeah you’re so ugly, stupid baldie”

wrong move

unfortunately for them, you were also at the arcade, having heard how the entire conversation went down

you knew tanaka would never use violence against a girl, even if they were rude, but you would.

equal rights equal fights bitch

those girls never saw it coming, you grabbing the leader’s hair roughly and yanking it back, “you’re right, longer hair is much better”

you went feral; simultaneously slapping the others away when they tried to pull you off, your tight grip never faltering.

only when tanaka placed a gentle hand on your arm that you released her

“insult him again and you’ll be the baldie next time”

in short, tanaka now sees you as his personal deity. boy will adore you

YACHI

the third years were gone now

kiyoko had left the team in your and yachi’s hands, with you mainly taking charge as the now-third year manager

the team all sat together for lunch (yes, tsukki too), they were waiting for you since you’d been talking with a teacher

a girl in front of you side-eyed yachi, watching with envy as the blonde sweetheart spoke with the handsome volleyball players

plan brewing in that toxic mind of hers, the girl pretended to trip, spilling her lunch all over yachi. the team didn’t have time to react, watching in shock as food splatted on her lap

sis even had the audacity to say “oh sorry didn’t see you there” as if she didn’t just purposefully throw her food on someone else

worry not, because you returned the favor.

as soon as she gave her faux apology, your food was already making its way down her head to her shoes

there wasn’t a part of her left uncovered

“my bad, i thought you were the trash” you did not look sorry at all

half of the cafeteria watched this unfold—tsukki even making some snide remarks. you grabbed yachi’s hand, guiding her to the restroom to help her clean off

from that moment on, people got the message to never mess with the volleyball team lest they face the wrath of their manager

OSAMU

osamu was your best friend, the reason why you joined inarizaki as their manager

currently, you were in home ed, making the assigned dish but it wasn’t difficult so your movements were lax so much that you couldn’t help but overhear the conversation going on in front of your table

at the mention of osamu, your ears perked up

“he was SUCH a jerk. i kept asking hoping he would grow tired and say yes, but nooooo. apparently osamu thinks he’s better than me”

some of her friends looks uneasy at her inability to take ‘no’ for an answer but the girl continued on her rant

the teacher stepped out for a moment. “HAHAHAHHAHA” the class turned to look at you, laughing like a maniac while you chopped vegetables with scary precision and inhuman strength

“you sure got some nerve, harassing someone like that.. especially my best friend”

that was the moment the grew knew she’d fucked up. she couldn’t even answer back because the teacher was back.

you made a point to ask the teacher if you could be partners with that girl for the next lesson, making her gulp in fear as you ran a finger across your throat

to say the least, she stopped talking for the remainder of the class

KUROO

chemistry?? you and kuroo?? friends?? together in class???

a fucking chaos

just kidding. the two of you were actually really good students. the best, if you had to brag

despite being the teacher’s favorite, you were lowkey about it while kuroo liked to insert as many chem jokes as he could in presentations

it was kinda embarrassing and you subtly teased him, but never with malicious intent

during a lab, you got partnered with a bully. you tried to ignore him and continue working, but it kept getting worse.

the breaking point was dragging in kuroo to all of this. you’d rejected his offers of going on a date and when kuroo made a motion to ask if you were ok, the dude took it as a sign to talk shit

“seriously? him? he’s a fucking nerd. his jokes are lame and has shitty hair—”

your eye twitched. “oi you better stop if you don’t want me to burn your face off”

clueless in class, he didn’t know how to handle the material so you were doing all the work. he didn’t believe you

bringing in the acidic substance near his face is when he finally backed away, at which point you had already called the teacher and told them that he was playing around with dangerous chemicals

although it was the other way around, who do you think the teacher believed, their star student or the school bully??

lmao, bitch could ask his detention buddies out on a date now

kuroo: ??

[springday-aus]

Untold Mermaid Tales: Sunmi’s Story

Fic Piece Written By: Admin Grandma of @springday-aus​

Moodboard Link Created By: Admin Grandpa

Main Character: Lee Sunmi (formally known from Wonder Girls)

Additional Characters: (in order of mention) Kim Yubin, Park Jonghyun, Yoon Junyoung

Genre: historical, fantasy, mermaid!au, revenge story

Type: one-shot writing piece 

Word Count: approx. 6.3k

Plot Summary: Sunmi dreams of leaving home to be a sailor. Her opportunity comes when her brother is sick and she’s sent to care for him overseas. However, the journey goes sour as the real implications of her presence are revealed and feelings get hurt. 

Warnings: [lots of sexism] - sexual harassment, rape is implied, murder mentions. 

For centuries, humans have believed that mermaids are nothing more than mythical creatures of the sea. It started from folklore and fairytales, like The Little Mermaid leading to their current portrayals in the media, such as Aquamarine or Ocean Girl. This is what essentially feeds humans the illusion of mermaids as beautiful beings who do nothing more than sing and swim, leading sailors astray from their paths. 

While it’s true that these creatures are magical, in no way are they as enchanting as they seem. Mermaids may seem to be carefree and gentle because they don’t have a human life on land to worry about. However, they are beings filled with spite, fueled by revenge and bitterness. To understand why is too complex to explain, but they have one goal: to avenge themselves by dragging down the men who dared to have them thrown overboard. 

Along the pier on the edge of Busan sits a young woman closely observing the sea. The waves crash lightly underneath her, the small mists of water spritzed itself into the air, splashing her every once in a while. The salty sea shimmers as it sways from a distance, sparkling against the limited light the sun provides. Just where the horizon starts to fully set lies the clothes of faded pinks, blending within the mix of pale yellows and light scarlet-orange. Despite the darkening sky, incoming ships continue to arrive in the docks, just a couple of blocks short from the pier.

Sumni sits upright and cross-legged, staring out into the never-ending waters—watching the fluttering sails continuously cut through the sunset with its’ shapes getting gradually bigger as time passes. Each one seems the same for everyone else, but to her, each is just as mesmerizing as the next. 

As her thoughts lost themselves within the sea, another’s footsteps lightly taps on the pier’s wood, getting closer to her with each step. She doesn’t budge. 

“Take a seat, Yubin.” She taps the empty spot next to her. “You and I both know I’m not going anywhere for a while.” 

With a shake of her head, Yubin chuckles but takes the seat regardless. “At this point, you should sleep here,” she says. “You practically live on this pier.” 

“There’s no point if I’m leaving tomorrow.” 

“Are you excited? You’re going to be an official sailor.” 

“Of course, I’m excited—slightly nervous, but I’ve been waiting for this since I was ten.” Sunmi leans back on her hands, taking in the scene once more. “I need to see more than just what I’ve read. I can’t just stay here for all of my life.” 

Yubin hums in response, nodding along to Sunmi’s words. 

“Don’t be mistaken,” Sumni says. “I’ll miss you and my family.” 

“But?” 

“Something tells me this is my one chance—another opportunity like this won’t come.” 

Yubin smiles fondly at her, before giving her a small nudge. “Well, at least you’re taking it. You’re lucky. You get to be more than just a housewife or school teacher. Nothing’s wrong with it, but…” She pauses, looking down at her lap. “You got a chance to do more.” 

Sunmi huffs in response. Glancing around, she continues to speak, but with a lowered tone. “I have to confess though. It doesn’t feel right.” 

“What are you talking about?” Yubin asks. “You’ll get to achieve your dreams to see the world beyond Busan, and who knows? Maybe, even meet a nice man, like your captain!” 

“That’s just it though,” Sunmi says. “Captain Park... something feels off about him.” 

Speak of the devil and he shall appear—as if on cue, Park Jonghyun makes his way over from his ship on the docks and along the pier. He jumps onto the sandy shore, breathing in the fresh, foreign air, since he and his crew just arrived from Japan. They’re on their way to Montréal to meet up with St. Laurent, but made a pit stop in the south for additional supplies and shipmates. 

With his black boots thudding against the ground below him, his tall silhouette moves swiftly to gather some equipment to prepare themselves for their journey tomorrow morning. However, he stops in his tracks once he spots the two women nearby. Without a word to his crew, he heads over towards them in long strides. 

His presence doesn’t go unnoticed. The ladies take notice of the man in uniform with the broad shoulders and firm thighs heading their way. The wind picks up, sweeping his dark hair back with grace—his eyes never wavering from them. Dear lord, he’s attractive, but it would’ve been better if he wasn’t aware of it. 

“Ladies.” He bows his head down as if he’s tipping an imaginary hat. “Are you lost?” 

Yubin looks enchanted. Whereas, Sunmi easily get sup from her spot, dusting off her pants. Straightening her shoulders back, she looks up to him with crossed arms. “No, but we were just about to head back.” 

“It’s getting a bit dark, ladies—seems dangerous to be walking alone. Would you like an escort back?” 

“No, thank you…” She quickly scans him from head to toe. “It’s more dangerous to get strangers involved.” 

He simply smiles at her. “Captain Park Jonghyun.” He bows his head once more. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.” 

Yubin visibly perks up, suddenly realizing who he is. “You’re Captain Park?”

“Yes, miss. You are?” 

“Kim Yubin, but you would be much more interest in my friend.” 

Sunmi resists the urge to roll her eyes at Yubin’s side comment. “Lee Sunmi. I’ll be part of your crew as of tomorrow. It’s a pleasure to properly meet you.” 

“The Sunmi?” 

“Yes.” 

“Ah,” he says. He looks off into the distance, brushing his hair out of the way. “I knew you were familiar. You’ve got a face that can’t be forgotten.” 

It’s really amazing what connections can do for a woman in the ‘60s. When Sunmi’s older brother, Junho, fell ill, her father nearly collapsed from the news and her mother cried for days. Both parents feared the worst illness imaginable. Both parents were, and still are, always far more concerned for their son than their daughter. Granted, Junho was drafted into the war, but, in Sunmi’s defense, he came back in one piece. When he permanently moved to California, their parents acted as if he was off to war all over again. 

Anyways, their parents insisted on having someone go to care for him and Sunmi was set to leave. It’s not like she has any complaints—she’ll get to see Junho and the beautiful places she’s only read about in her books. Once it was decided Sunmi would leave, her father pulled a couple of strings and called in favor to arrange for her departure. 

Turns out, her father’s coworker’s cousin knew someone who happened to work for the Park’s family estate—a very high-profiled family with an incredible lineage of sailors who knew their way around the seas. Fortunately, Jonghyun was generous enough to let Sunmi come along. 

“It’d be good for a woman to see the world,” he had said. 

Since Jonghyun’s decision, her father had been directly contacted, which resulted with many letters from Mr. Lee to thank the Park family for letting his irrepressible daughter along Jonghyun’s trip. 

Sunmi had also made contact with him, once he’d accepted her to be part of his crew. (Thank God for those English books.) They exchanged letters and pictures to keep one another updated as to how long the journey would take, where they would be stopping, when they would arrive, etc. Between the letter exchanges, she couldn’t help but feel a bit thrown off from Jonghyun’s manners. Even though she hasn’t met him before, there was a growing suspicion towards him—she couldn’t pinpoint what it is about him that makes him so... odd. Maybe it was how quick he’d accepted her onboard, or the way he complimented her on having a classy chassis when he’d first gotten her first photo—something was just off... 

But, despite her apprehension towards him, she’s grateful for him—she’s had nothing else to look forward to until the past year, fearing that she would be stuck as some sexist’s wife. The 20th century has been progressive so far, but it’s not progressive enough for women to stop being passed as someone’s wife or sister—she isn’t getting much younger and her father would not stop stressing it. She knows had it not been for Jonghyun, she wouldn’t be allowed on a ship until another’s century passed. 

“You’ve gotten by photographs,” Sunmi says. 

“They don’t do you justice.” He takes her hand and kisses the back of it. “Lovely to meet you, little miss. I look forward to working with you. What brings you to the pier?” 

“I’m always here—” 

“And I’ve forgotten that you’re always here.” Jonghyun lowers himself to really look at her. “I was told by your father that you can be found in two places: an ocean or the river. Always drawn to the water, huh?” 

She gives him a tight-lipped smile, feeling slightly put-off from the close proximity of his face. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?” 

“That’ll certainly be handy when you’re actually out on the seas. It’s a dangerous journey, do you think you’re ready?” 

“Of course I am, Captain.” 

“Sorry to interrupt.” Yubin glances between them, before turning her full attention to Jonghyun. “But we should be heading back. Dinner’s ready and we all need some time to say goodbye to her.” 

“Of course.” Jonghyun raises an eyebrow at the both of them. “Are you sure you don’t need a man to take you back?” 

“No, thank you,” Sunmi says. “We’ll get back just fine.” She turns away from him, without waiting for a reply, and promptly yanks on Yubin’s arm to drag her along. 

As the distance between them grows, she shouts back to him. “See you tomorrow morning, Captain!” 

“He seems nice,” Yubin says. 

“I guess,” Sunmi mumbles. It’s more towards herself than Yubin, who continues to babble on about what a dreamboat he is, but nothing seems to settle the nerves in Sunmi’s stomach. 

Within a span of eleven hours, Sunmi’s dreams are finally going somewhere. At first, it doesn’t really settle in—even with her parents’ tearful goodbyes, as well as their stern warnings to not cause any trouble, and Yubin’s bone-crushing hug. It doesn’t set in until she stands at the edge of the pier at the break of dawn, with nothing more than her bag in hand, in front of the vessel known as ‘SUNRISE’. The adrenaline rushes through her veins. She can’t feel anything else but her heartbeat that continuously pounds in her chest with anxiety and excitement.

“Excuse me?” 

She turns around, facing an unfamiliar man in uniform—almost the same as Jonghyun’s. However, she notes, he doesn’t have the captain’s tags and carries fewer metals. He stands nearly a head taller than her and his brown hair is haphazardly brushed away from his face with eyes that give her an almost-bored look. 

Sunmi snaps herself out of her thoughts and manages to respond in time. “Yes?” 

“You can’t be here, we’re just about to leave.” He waves his hand away, dismissing her as if he’s swatting away a fly. “Go back to your husband.” 

She smiles at him, the brightest and fakest she can muster, despite the anger bubbling inside her chest. “Actually, I’m here with Captain Park. I’m supposed to meet him here at five.” 

He scans her appearance, before returning the fake smile with his own. “I’m sure you were.” 

A sudden arm wraps around the young man’s shoulder stops him from saying more. Jonghyun arrives in full uniform—unnoticeably breaking the brawl about to occur. Sunmi lets out a small sigh of relief from his presence; for once, she’s thankful for a man’s help. 

“Junyoung,” Jonghyun says. “That’s how we treat ladies.” He turns back to look at Sunmi. “My apologies, he tends to be a bit rude to everyone.” He gives her a wink. 

She gives another tight smile. “I understand.” 

Without a response, Junyoung removes himself from Jonghyun’s hold and trudges back to the boat, mumbling curses under his breath. Sunmi secretly glares at his retreating back and asks Jonghyun. “Who’s he?” 

“Co-captain Yoon—he’s a bit rough on the edges, but he knows how to handle a ship.” 

She almost growls, holding back as much as she can, yet her irritation is dismissed. Jonghyun smiles at her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Now, why don’t you let me show you the way around the ship,” he says. “Just to be sure you don’t get lost.” 

Sunmi gives him a weird look, startled from the sudden touch, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he guides her towards the ship and make their way up to the bow. 

“So there’s all sorts of different ships. Sunrise, here, is a vessel, which operates differently from a sailing ship. It’s essentially built for cargo, as well as passenger transportation. It might be smaller, but it’s equally as powerful as the others.” He winks at her once more. “Now, we are currently on the bow, which means the front of the vessel. The opposite end—right over there—is called the stern…” 

Sunmi can only sigh, hoping he realizes she knows more than he thinks, as Jonghyun continues to talk. Oh, this is going to be an interesting month. 

A week in and Sunrise has had nothing but smooth sailing—for the ship itself at least. Throughout the week and into the following week, the waters remain calm, the wind continue to steer them, and no damages have occurred. Unfortunately, Sunmi has had no such luck with the crew. It’s hard enough for her to adjust as the only woman onboard; she has gotten used to life on the sea, but the other shipmates still haven’t gotten used to her. 

On top of all this, she still hasn’t learned anything on actually handling the ship, like Jonghyun promised she would be able to do—which is why she finds herself a couple of feet away from Junyoung, practically peaking over his shoulder, in hopes of getting a glimpse as to what he’s doing. Despite how openly sexist he is towards her, she oddly prefers him over Jonghyun because Junyoung just ignores her (for the most part). On the other hand, while Jonghyun’s clearly nicer, he has a certain aura that alludes whenever she gets close—it’s all smiles with him and his hand always finds a place on her body, whether it’s grabbing her hand or placing an arm around her shoulders. It’s disturbing. 

Sunmi shudders at the thought of him and his behavior for the past few days. No, she needs to focus. Right now, Junyoung is readjusting some of the ropes tied to the lookout point. She takes a couple of notes into her notebook, from his movements to the aftermath of his actions. 

Junyoung might not explain to her what he’s doing or why he does it, but she knows she’s smart enough to figure it out—she’s red enough books to figure it out on her own. The other sailors often laugh at her—telling her all those little notes are nothing more than useless memos and there’s no point in recording such mundane tasks. She doesn’t bother listening to their little jabs at her because, who knows, maybe later in her life, she’ll be able to use this information on one of her own future expeditions. 

At least, that’s what she hopes. 

Junyoung has already moved to something else, chatting away with another sailor—Eddy. Sunmi makes herself busy and double-checks her notes, not noticing the shadow that lures behind her. 

“What’s this, doll?” Jonghyun asks. 

She flinches, clutching a hand over her chest. “You scared me!” 

He ignores her and takes the notebook out of her hands. He asks again. “What’s this?” 

“My notes.” 

“Why have notes when you have me?” 

She lets out a long sigh, already drained from his presence and this conversation. She grabs the notebook from his hand. “Captain, you haven’t taught me anything new.” 

He takes it right back and taps it on her head, as if she’s a puppy. “I teach you new things all the time.” 

“With all due respect, sir, I would much prefer it if you would just let me—” 

“A-okay, it’s set. If you have anymore questions, you can ask me directly.” He smiles at her once again, placing the notebook into his inner jacket pocket. “If you want this back, you come to me.” 

She gives up quickly, knowing he’ll just continue to push himself onto her like this—as he has been for the entire week. “Of course, Captain.” 

He smiles down at her. “How many times have I told you?” 

She lets out another long sigh, but Jonghyun ignores it. 

“Call me Jonghyun.” He places an arm on her shoulder. “We’re closer than that.” 

She gives him a short, forced smile and removes herself from Jonghyun’s hold. She walks off to cool down by finding something else to reoccupy herself with. He’s the captain and she knows better than to walk into uncharted territory with him. 

Just as Sunmi walks off, Junyoung comes back around, swigging an arm around Jonghyun’s shoulders. “Oh, Jong, Jong, Jong,” he says with a singing tone. “Just what are you planning?” 

Jonghyun smirks. “Don’t be such a wet rag, Jun. I’m just having some fun.” His eyes easily find Sunmi’s figure from a distance. “She’s not easy…” His eyes roam her curves once more. “And I like a challenge.” 

“And how do you plan on conquering this one?” 

“With this,” Jonghyun says. He takes out Sunmi’s notebook with a tight grip, but lightly waves it in Junyoung’s face. “She’ll come for it sooner or later.”

Unfortunately for Sunmi, she comes sooner rather than later. It’s been about two days after, when Sunmi is in Jonghyun’s cabins, but she’s not alone. Junyoung stands next to her, clearly agitated from the whole situation. Jonghyun stands in front of them, slightly amused from Sunmi. According to the other shipmates, an incident happened—resulting with a handprint on Junyoung’s face from Sunmi. 

“Okay,” Jonghyun says. “What happened?” 

“Your crew is led by a big. That’s what happened.” 

“That is not what happened,” Junyoung says. 

Sunmi scoffs at his remark. “What a nosebleed,” she mutters. 

“What did you call me?” 

“Okay!” Jonghyun says. He steps between the two of them, patting Junyoung’s shoulder. “Yoon, you can leave. I’ll talk to Sunmi.” 

“What?!” 

Junyoung smirks at her, making her feel like smacking him up once more. He heads to the door and, before he closes it, he mouths to Jonghyun: “I’ll be back.” 

Jonghyun nods at him, then turns to Sunmi once the door’s shut. He lets out a little laugh, then turns back to what he was originally doing. He stands over to a table, where a large map of the Atlantic lies. 

Sunmi stays rooted in her spot, watching Jonghyun move around. “Captain? Can I explain?” 

He finally looks at her, nodding to himself, then takes a seat. “Sure.” 

She lets out a small breath of relief. “Thank you, Captain. Now, as I was going to explain—” 

“Why don’t you grab a seat?” 

She looks around, spotting a nearby stool and sits herself a couple of feet away from him. She takes a deep breath, trying to collect herself. There’s so much that had unfolded in so little time that she hasn’t had a moment to herself. 

Jonghyun still hasn’t taught her anything throughout the time span that she has been here. How is she supposed to understand what should be tied to which knots and where? How is she supposed to know which direction they’re going in? What the hell did “jibe” mean? There’s so much she’s read to learn about, yet it doesn’t matter if she’s not actually getting the hands-on experience she wants—but trust Sunmi to know she wasn’t about to stay put and do nothing. 

She made it a mission for herself to learn, since no one was willing to teach her how to actually operate the ship. That resulted with her to floating around, observing each sailor and the tasks they were assigned to do—to make mental notes as to what they were doing. Since Henry took away her notebook, she’s been trying to remember purely through memory rather than record. It’s the only notebook she brought with her. 

On the other hand, the other shipmates originally thought she was there to care for them. For a while, she did—until she realized they were just ordering her around as if she was the maid. When she asked for an explanation as to why, Junyoung merely shrugged. “Boys will be boys,” he said. 

She was originally planning on just ignoring him, knowing he was going to say something among those lines. But then, she’d heard him say to another sailor. “She needs to work from the bottom first. She’s already on her knees for the captain.” 

Before she knew it, her anger had gotten the best of her and she slapped him. She doesn’t regret it. Enough is enough; it’s time for her to step up. 

She’s taking this opportunity to bring up one of her bigger concerns. She doesn’t need to explain herself to some man who probably thinks she’s just being temperamental. 

She sits straight with her arms crossed over her chest. She stares at Jonghyun, trying to figure him out before saying anything else. Eventually, after a few moments of silence, she finally speaks. “Captain, I am having trouble understanding something.” 

He isn’t even looking at her. His eyes remain trained on the map in front of him. “What exactly are you referring to?” 

“Sir, I’m here to learn. I want to learn how to sail, but I can’t do that if you aren’t teaching me anything.” 

She’s gotten his attention now. He looks up to her, before straightening up to look down at her. “I teach you new things all the time. Remember when I let you ring the bell? That was a big responsibility.” 

“I haven’t learned anything new, sir. I want to sail. I can’t just watch everyone on the sidelines. If you would let me pair up with Hyunsuk to help lookout, or even with Roy in the engine room—” 

Jonghyun shakes his head at her. “If you get too involved, it could get messy and things would get harder—” 

“Captain, please just let me—” 

“—just stay put for now. Once we’ve settled, we’ll show you around on how things work, okay?” He gives her another pearly white smile, but her frustration is overpowering. She finds herself more annoyed than when she originally came in. If one complaint is going to be filed as trash, might as well add in another. Her shoulders loosen up and her arms are released to her sides—the displeasure from over the past week has officially caught up to her. 

“What about Junyoung?” She asks. 

“What’s wrong with Co-captain Yoon?” 

Sunmi almost laughs. “He’s been spreading rumors about me for the entire past week and the other shipmates are just egging him on. I think something should be done about him.” 

“He’s just joking. He does it to everyone—he doesn’t mean any harm.” 

“Then what are you going to do about the rumors? Or about how the way the rest of the crew is treating me? They all think I’m some easy gal you got fast with.” 

At this, Jonghyun walks over to him, causing Sunmi to follow as well. He stands close, but far enough to lower himself to her eye level, grabbing her shoulders lightly. “Doll, don’t worry about it.” His hand slowly trails along her arm and plays with her fingers, without breaking eye contact. “We can take care of those rumors right now, if you’d like. We can make a bit more true than false.” 

She untangles her hand from him and smacks him away. “Forget it, I’ll deal with them myself.” 

He reaches out to her once more. “Baby, I can take care of you.” 

She shakes her head and steps back further from him. “I don’t need you to take care of me. I don’t need you closer to me.” 

He grabs her wrist once more, except it’s a rougher touch than before. “Doll, you said you wanted to sail.” 

“I do.” She yanks her wrist out of his hand once more. “But not like this. I don’t need you closer.” 

Jonghyun goes silent for a while—his shiny pearls starting to shine a little less. “Now, Sunmi,” he says slowly. “Don’t get so emotional. I’ll give you some time to cool it. But…” 

He scans her once more, his eyes lingering a bit longer on her body a it more than she would’ve liked and chooses to ignore. “You know where I’ll be if you change your mind.” He gives her another wink, insinuating exactly what she fears. 

She blinks at him, not believing what she just heard,  trying to shake his words out of her system. Turning around on her heel, she heads for the door at a leisurely pace. “Don’t get your hopes up, Captain. This over-emotional lady will be in her cabin. I want to be clear. That is not an invitation.” She looks to the side. “I need to be alone.” 

She slams the door shut and he stands for a while, staring at nothing, before chuckling at her antics. Oh, her father’s wrong—she’s more than just a troublemaker. She’s pretty, which is worth bringing on the trip, but it’s not worth the inconvenience she’s bringing. 

He walks towards his previous set up. His jacket is tossed somewhere in the room and his hair is messily tousled. He sits on his chair, resting his feet on the table. A couple of knocks on his door breaks his train of thought. 

Junyoung enters a fresh case of glass bottled beers in hand. “I have returned.” He sets a bottle on the table. “I figured you would need this after talking to the ship’s mooncalf.” 

Without hesitation, Jonghyun grabs a bottle and takes a swig. “And this is why you’re the co-captain.” 

The two sit back and chat, figuring out some additional notes for the journey ahead—sorting out the food supply, the stop in California (and possibly a couple of islands), and all the other little details that can be worked out later. Eventually, they do address the source of their headaches. However, it was only after drowning down all the beers and a couple of bottles from Jonghyun’s oh-so special liquor cabinet. 

“If she keeps this up for the rest of the month,” Junyoung says. “I might just toss her to the sharks.” 

Jonghyun squints at him, trying to realign his vision to somewhat focus on the other man. “She’s really something man. She just—just… just insults me on my own god—goddamned ship.” 

“She should consider herself lucky to even be here.” 

“You see,” Jonghyun says. “That—I thought the same thing.” 

Junyoung huffs. “She needs to be reminded where her place is.” 

Jonghyun silently thinks for a moment. The gears start to shift, but with a sudden familiar gleam in his eyes and another shiny smile, he speaks again. “Say, Yoon. What shall we do if she does just fall off the ship?” 

Sunmi tosses and turns in her small mattress as the boat continues to rock through the night. Granted, the smooth sailing wasn’t going to continue forever, as they continue on with the journey, but it shouldn’t be this bad. It’s the third sleepless night in a row, a couple of nights after being in Jonghyun’s cabin making it worse for her sleep needs. 

Since the conversation, she’s been avoiding him like the plague, but he always seems to find her. She knows she can’t avoid him on a ship, but she just needs her space from him. With the lack of sleep, it’s clear she’s becoming more and more fed-up—at both the captains and the crew. It’s almost as if their behavior has gotten worse: something she did not think was possible. Jonghyun’s smiles have got slimier and Junyoung’s scowls are becoming a more permanent fixture on his face. 

She groans loudly, not bothering to hide her annoyance, and attempts to calm herself down from her thoughts. Something that was supposed to be so beautiful has gone downhill so fast; she’s never missed home as much as now. Maybe instead, once she gets home, she’ll read up some more about sailing, study more on shipbuilding, and she’ll be able to construct her own boat with an all-female crew. 

Oh, how she longs to be on her own—but, for now, she’ll keep these men on their toes with her rebellion and, what Henry calls, emotional outbursts. 

In order to get some decent amount of rest, she closes her eyes, listening closely to the waters. She can see the pier once more, with its beautiful horizon and Asta by her side. She sees the ocean and its never-ending waves—she sees the opportunity to explore. And with that, she finally sleeps. 

On the other side of the ship, a small bash for the captains is taking place. Jonghyun and Junyoung wanted to celebrate a full successful week of sailing. So, they gathered some of their most trusted crew members for a couple of drinks. They all came together at the stern near the starboard; the captains figured the open air would be better than one of the stuffy cabins. 

The stars are out, light wind blew, and the waters rocks the boat at a calm pace. There are chairs set up for them to rest their aching feet and a bunch of drinks spread out for them to grab. It’s relatively calm, each chatting away about this and that. However, one sailor from the group spots the thunder clouds rolling in from the distance; it’s coming slowly, but surely. 

“Oh, shit,” Roy says. “That storm’s comin’ in soon.” 

“How bad is it?” Jonghyun manages to ask, feeling a bit tipsy from the drinks. 

Junyoung waves it off, clearly drunk. “Let it come, it’s Sunmi’s goddamn fault anyways.” 

“Yeah,” Hyunsuk says. “Who the hell let her on anyways? That girl isn’t good for anything but bashing ears.” 

Eddy laughs, then speaks. “Capt’n here probably wanted a quick route.” He takes another sip of his whiskey. “He’s fast, but she ain’t easy.” 

Jonghyun frowns, nearly throwing an empty bottle at him, feeling the sting of being rejected once more. Who knew this woman would cause so much trouble for them? 

Junyoung laughs along with Eddy. “He isn’t wrong.” He looks over at Jonghyun. “This is what happens when a woman gets involved. Everything goes wrong.” 

“Don’t remind me,” Jonghyun says, with a groan. “Jesus, this is harder than I thought.” 

“You talking about her or your dick?” 

Everyone laughs and this time Henry does throw something, but it’s an empty beer can that can do no physical harm. Jonghyun misses entirely, the can is flung into the ocean with a soft plop. Junyoung finishes his drink at that time, tossing it into the water as well. 

The other guys start to toss their empty glasses and cans into the water as well, laughing as if it’s the most hilarious thing they’ve ever seen. However, their laughter is cut short as they spot the storm rolling closer, lightning flashing against the dark sky and harsh thunder claps following afterwards. 

“We’re fucked,” Roy says. 

The rest of the boys sigh, but it’s Jonghyun who speaks up. “This is all her fault.” 

Junyoung’s eyebrows furrow. “You’re right.” 

“It’s because we have a woman on board,” Roy says. “The seas are upset.”

“We were fine before,” Eddy says. “Now, she causes a ruckus and now, a storm’s coming.” 

Junyoung turns to Jonghyun. “So, Captain. What are you going to do about it?” 

Captain Park smirks.

Not long after, Junyoung sneaks into Sunmi’s room with a few shipmates. They move in a quick-paced manner at his order. 

“Tape her damned mouth shut, then get her legs,” Junyoung whisper-shouts. “We need her out of here.” 

Hyunsuk wraps the rope around her ankles, tugging it harshly against her skin. Roy grabs her wrists, tying them together as well as her elbows. As the rope begins to burn against her skin, she wakes up at once. Started at the intruders, she tries to shout, only to be muffled by the duct tape wrapped securely around her mouth. She isn’t able to make out who was who due to the dark, but she is able to recognize the asswipe who’s been after her since day one. 

Getting closer to her face, Junyoung smirks at her. “Sorry sweetheart. Captain’s orders.” 

With her eyes growing wide, she finally realizes how much of a candy ass Jonghyun is, getting others to do his dirty work. She attempts to fight them off, but seeing as they’ve decided to gang up against her, she starts to tear up. She thinks about her family, Yubin, and the dreams that’ll never be accomplished—all because of some stupid men and their stupid pride and their misogynistic, androcentricism views. 

Even with her struggling against them, they successfully move her from her cabin to the edge of the ship. The waters got rougher, splashing harshly against Sunrise—the winds blow more viciously, dark clouds roll closer as each moment passes and the lightning flashes behind them. 

Junyoung steps back as the man of the house has finally arrived. With those black boots thudding against the wood, Jonghyun stands proud and tall, with another shiny, slimy smile as he looks down at her. 

“Sunmi,” he says. “You should have just stayed in your place. Maybe then, neither of us would have to be put in this situation.” 

She holds her head high, refusing to show an ounce of fear for this coward. She would have given him a couple of choice words if it weren’t for the tape. 

He shifts his weight, placing his hands on his belt loops, before moving uncomfortably close to her. “Oh, doll. Such a waste of a pretty face.” He looks up to the other shipmates and nods at them. “You know what to do.” 

He and Junyoung walk off without another word and they throw her off. She hits the water immediately, her body breaking through the top layer with the sound of a smack. As she sinks further into the depths of the Atlantic, she wiggles in an attempt to get the ropes off. But no such luck occurs as she moves her body along, trying to fight the current. She continues to struggle; the ropes continuing to burn against her skin and the current pushing her left and right. She wants to scream and cry for help that she knows won’t come. 

She begins to give up; her body feels tired from the fight—her eyes begin to close and her lungs quickly fill up with water. She can no longer breathe; she can feel her heart beginning to slow down and she accepts her death, praying it’s as painless as possible. She has suffered enough. 

Just when all hope seems lost, a bright light shines down on her. The water around her swirls, as if she’s the eye of a hurricane. From her peripheral vision, she can see different colors spinning around her—as if it’s protecting her. Her arms are freed, but aqua-purple blended colored scales shimmer against her skin to replace the rope burns. 

Her eyes widen from the sudden colors appearing onto her skin. Her ankles remain locked together, but newfound finds replace her feet and her legs glow with that same bright light, as her skin becomes layered with the same colored scales from her arms. Her neck lines split, allowing her to breathe easily in the water. Her nails grow quickly and are sharpened to a point, whereas more teeth grows in, as if to feed on flesh. 

Even as she fully transforms, the water continues to circle around her and the hurricane only grows stronger. 

She’s confused. She doesn’t understand what’s happening to her own body—it feels new and foreign, yet it feels so right. Everything becomes clear; the water continues the ongoing storm, but the colors have stopped and she can see the figures of others. Her eyes grow even wider: there are others who are just like her. The mermaids surrounding her don’t say anything; they’re perfectly still. She locks her eyes on the one in front of her. That’s when she hears it—a voice that isn’t her own telling her: you must go. 

Amidst all of this, Sunrise isn’t far off from where they dropped her, evidently getting caught in the tropical cyclone—moving gradually closer to the center. Some shipmates have been tossed off from the winds, while others have drowned from trying to escape. With a dozen already dead men, Jonghyun and Junyoung remain alive, but not for long. Both are still onboard with a death grip on the ship and screaming out of desperation for some god to help them. 

Sunmi arises from the water, cackling as she sees the ship hurtling towards her direction—with her teeth bared, nails ready to stab, and her revenge as encouragement. Even with the storm, she couldn’t see anything but the rage that blinds her. The fire in her eyes say it all: they are going to pay. 

[maraudersmessrs]

Remus Lupin and the Prisoner of Azkaban--- Chapter 32: Victory and Defeat

Ao3 link

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12 / Chapter 13 / Chapter 14 / Chapter 15 / Chapter 16 / Chapter 17 / Chapter 18 / Chapter 19 / Chapter 20 / Chapter 21 / Chapter 22 / Chapter 23 / Chapter 24 / Chapter 25 / Chapter 26 / Chapter 27 / Chapter 28 / Chapter 29 / Chapter 30 / Chapter 31 / Chapter 32 / Chapter 33 / Chapter 34

The cold and the boggart poured out as one, cramping Remus’ fingers, lingering in his already-chilled scars, dousing the lights. 

Faces of the dead lingered murkily in his mind, like pale lenses to the past, beckoning for a descent down into madness--the War, the ever present fear of the wolf, the murders of his friends, of his enemies--murderer---

The doubt within him rose to a pitch, causing such a thrashing within his gut he felt he might actually be sick, right there in the classroom; this was too much, too much for him, too much for Harry. You should have stopped him, you should have stopped him, why are you so selfish--- “EXPECTO PATRONUM!” 

The strength in Harry’s voice slapped him upside the head, knocking the spiral of despair off its axis and he straightened, blinked. Harry’s feet were planted, eyes blazing. “EXPECTO PATRONUM!”

The Dementor-boggart was still advancing, but Harry wasn’t crumpling. Something in Remus stilled, like the space between heart-beats, the moment between breaths, watching. Yes….

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!”

The apparition paused, seeming uncertain and wary, seeming to sense what Remus sensed, that something was different this time. There was a moment of suspended time, with all 3 watching. And it was broken by silver pouring from Harry’s wand, a hazy and indistinct shadow that coalesced between Harry and his aggressor, defiant and tall...and vaguely familiar. A bright joy burst through his chest like a wave, clenching his fists in triumph but his celebration was cut short, because the boy’s knees gave a dangerous and distinct wobble. Oh no, not this time, you will take your victory lap on your feet, he thought fiercely and shouted, “Riddikulus!”

A snap like a gunshot rang out as Harry dropped into a chair, head in his hands, but still conscious. The boggart, however, seemed to have had enough harassment for the night and refused to simply be knocked back into the case as the moon, feinting in aggravated jerks like some sort of football player looking to avoid an opponent. Remus had to actually cast a restraining jinx and wrestle it back in, alternating between shoving and pulling toward the case as the creature twisted and writhed within its bonds. Perhaps it was just as tired and hungry and scared as its captors. He couldn’t much bring himself to care at that moment, however, as he pinched himself in the lid of the case he finally slammed shut and leaned on while locking it again. He did it, he did it! His bones and scars still throbbed, his body still ached and his stomach still churned but he found himself beaming as he turned back to Harry, still sunk on his seat. The hours of searching were nothing. The tearing maelstrom of his own howling anxiety was nothing to this.

Remus was not sure he had ever taken so much delight in another’s victories--and it wasn’t even that he felt pride for having taught him, because, truly, he hadn’t. He had handed the boy the tools and the means to practice, but the accomplishment was his, all his. Remus hadn’t been able to make the Charm work for a week when they had practiced in the Order, and that had been in a safe, Dementor-less environment. Wrestling happiness into a shape that suited him had never been something he was adept at. But Harry--brilliant, clever, wonderful Harry had produced something in his first practice. Remus approached him, rubbing the feeling back into his hands and grinning, “Excellent! Excellent, Harry! That was definitely a start!” By God, he can do it!

The doubt was gone. The uncertainty in what Harry could handle was gone. This boy knew strength.

“Can we have another go? Just one more go?”

Remus could have laughed in disbelief. Of course, you are your parent’s son. How many times had he heard Lily say that, during practice with Moody? ‘One more go.’

‘Lily, your hand’s gone numb, I can see it, wiggle your fingers. Exactly.’

‘So?’

‘So that’s your wand hand.’

No, this was time for the responsible adult, not the proud...whatever he was. Teacher. “Not now, you’ve had enough for one night.” More than enough. “Here---” he handed Harry what he had mentally dubbed the Grand Finale bar from Honeyduke’s, brought either as a consolation or a reward, and he had certainly earned it. “Eat the lot, or Madam Pomfrey will be after my blood. Same time next week?”

“Okay,” Harry agreed as he unwrapped the chocolate as gnawed off a corner and Remus grinned.

He went round tidying up and putting out the lamps when Harry said behind him, “Professor Lupin? If you knew my dad, you must’ve known Sirius Black as well.”

Abruptly, his stomach twisted and he nearly burnt himself on the flame he was extinguishing as he jerked around to stare at Harry. “What gives you that idea?” He said, sounding harsher than he had meant to.

The feeling of being horribly transparent overwhelmed him. It was as if Harry could see everything---his failure as a friend, his failure as an Order member, his failure as a person. The lie that was his life. The hate and violence that soured him, the dark impulse to pay Sirius back in full for what he had done, for what he had taken away. If this boy thought Remus had anything to do with the man trying to kill him, he would never trust him, he would never take lessons again. If he thought that Remus had anything to do with Sirius’ infiltration and followed the same logic that Snape had…If he thought Remus a traitor….

Instead, Harry looked surprised and slightly bewildered at his response, chocolate halfway to his mouth again. “Nothing---I mean, I just knew they were friends at Hogwarts too….”

Breathe. Breathe, you’re scaring him. He took a deep breath, forcing calm down like some sort of smothering blanket on his agitation. Must you ruin everything? The mere mention of your memory soiling this victory he had? Remus thought venomously at the lurking shadow of Sirius, outside these walls, inside his head, Must you destroy everything you touch and leave me with nothing?

He managed to force out, “Yes, I knew him. Or I thought I did.” Enough, I don’t want to share evil things with you--this should be about you, about your accomplishment. Regretfully, he added. “You’d better be off, Harry, it’s getting late.”

Harry nodded and gathered his things, giving an exhausted, half-hearted wave before he left. Remus watched him go with a pang of remorse, wishing the Dementor-boggart hadn’t weakened his control of his emotions. He hadn’t meant to snap at the child--usually, he had an easier time filtering his reactions, when his internal grip wasn’t quite so weakened. I should not have done that. I'll have to make it up to him…. He sighed and pinched his nose, massaging the bridge until he packing case gave an irate rattle.

Shooting it a grumpy glare, he continued his round about the room, extinguishing the lights before levitating the trunk next to him. The ugly turmoil whipped up by the mere mention of Sirius was gone, leaving a hollow, wrung out feeling. There was nothing much left in him, physically or emotionally, after the days of searching and the whiplash of the evening’s lesson; he was ready to do nothing but fall on his bed and sleep for as long as he possibly could. The boggart could spend the night in its case. And think about what it’s done, he thought wryly, envisioning trying to sit it down and give it a talking to.

But it had done its job, served its purpose. Resenting it was nothing if not unfair, even if he couldn’t quite help it. Seeing Harry in such anguish seemed to have awoken something quite irrational within him, something that would very readily commit any number of reckless and violent acts to keep him safe and untouched from any more suffering. It wasn’t the rage of the wolf within him, certainly, but something new and...raw. It would have worried him more if he wasn’t quite so flattened, at the moment. He locked the door and left.

The next morning, Remus awoke feeling significantly...rumpled. Like sleep had dragged him to his bed, kicking and screaming and held his head under until he passed out, hard, and he was only just now pulling himself from its sticky clutches. His mouth tasted awful. Running a hand through his hair confirmed it was indeed sticking up in odd angles and swoops, as if he had tunneled into his pillow instead of simply sleeping on top of it. He rubbed his eyes. Overdoing it, that’s what this was telling him. Got it, he thought, petulantly, ’You are not 15 anymore,’ message received, He was only about halfway between moons, suspended like a bead on a string between the two ominous weights, but the stiffness and pain and exhaustion felt like he had just woken up after a Wolfsbane transformation. Wonderful. It can be replicated. He scrubbed a hand over his whole face before reaching over and downing the glass of water he kept by his bed. Slightly better.

For a few minutes, he allowed himself to merely sit and stare sleepily into the middle distance, the snow-bright morning light fanning across his mussed bedclothes. The boggart and Harry and Sirius and panic, Filch and dust and closets all seemed far away. It was quiet and warm. A bird was tittering somewhere below his window and he heard the distant clatter of the rest of the castle. Children's voices, the bang of doors a gentle reminder that he was among other people, no longer exiled.

He was considering just rolling over and going back to sleep when his gaze caught on the stack of files he had hastily made a home for on his bedside chest. Stretching, he thought for a moment before sliding stiffly out of bed and limping over, barefoot, to take the top one back. After a moment’s thought, he also picked up his potion for aches and pains on his way back, as he could feel from the deep seated pangs that pulled at all his joints and muscles that this might be his last time out of bed for a while.

Leafing through the cool, aged parchment, he skimmed, for the time being; the sheer volume of text was overwhelming and he was certain the memories would be as well. He let them wash over him and retreat, taking in a passage here, a few sentences there. Nothing too much, nothing too painful.

Potter and Lupin were caught in the kitchens again.

Pettigrew spilled dungbombs all over the Charms classroom--a foiled plan, no doubt.

I heard Black sneeze while cleaning the 3rd floor West Wing at 11 o’clock pm, but Professor McGonagall says I can’t press charges unless I saw them.

Pettigrew and Potter were caught bringing contraband from Hogsmeade (here came a list at least a page long. Remus thought he must have been exaggerating because he couldn’t see how they physically could have held it all.)

Those 4 were caught in the Forbidden Forest, gave varying excuses of equal depravity---detention administered.

Lupin played innocent---but I know he’s the one who charmed my broom to run from me, the rest of them were laughing too hard for it not to be them and Dumbledore JUST OFFERED TO DE-JINX IT I WANT THEM PUNISHED!

In the long years he had lived alone, without contact from pretty much everyone he knew, the memories of these boys had softened, gilded at the edges with some sort of nostalgic peace that burned him worse than any horror from the War could. Because that was gone. Horror, he had had in spades, every month in a warehouse, every day in his head, but that love and that belonging was gone---to his knowledge, at the time---forever. They had become these gossamer time capsules, lovely little baubles he could feel the warmth of but could not touch. He had forgotten this sharp wit and their stumbling pranks. The snide remarks and stupid rows and brilliant schemes, the exhilarating rush of running from Filch and sneaking around the castle at night. The planning and plotting and fruition of the Marauder’s Map, their masterpiece, their thesis for their stay at this mad castle. He had forgotten all the fun.

Fun was not something he was much familiar with before coming to Hogwarts and meeting James and Sirius. He remembered being startled by their quickness to laugh and rough house, confused by the constant stream of jokes and innuendos and puns and, frankly, sometimes ridiculous banter. It had taken him a week or two to tentatively step outside of his own denial that anyone as self assured and charismatic as James or Sirius would give him the time of day, let alone count him among their closest friends.

But, he had concluded after Sirius hesitantly confided in them that a lot of the Slytherins saw him as some sort of pure-blood traitor for being sorted into Gryffindor that this wasn’t some elaborate hoax and, indeed, was what friendship was. Things had grown comfortable, settling into a routine of each other’s schedules and habits; they could be found waiting outside each others classes, sitting in a bunch at meals, doing homework in their dormitory or by the fire or in the library but always together. Remus had never felt a bond with his peers that was as effortless or rewarding--though, truth be told, he did not have much experience to draw on. It had been all such new territory. His parents had been forced to move their family fairly regularly and to keep themselves isolated from the communities they joined, lest their secret---his secret---be discovered.

He hardly interacted with anyone except his parents, let alone other children. And those he did interact with seemed to find him odd; too blunt, too dry, too watchful, too distant and inaccessible. Remus didn’t try to be those things, he just didn’t know how to relate to people on the level they were at--he remembered one time, when he lived by the coast, he had slipped on some rocks and broken his arm. He hadn’t cried, but gotten up and hiked back home, fairly calm, but the group of children he had passed playing on the outskirts of town had been so horrified by his stoicism in the face of a compound fracture, they fled whenever they saw him, after. To him, the sensation of bones breaking was fairly normal, not quite routine, but at least something that was no worse than what he experienced every month. He didn’t understand the fuss. The pain was intense, but temporary. The isolation, however, had lasted until they moved yet again.

James and Sirius seemed to find these things funny instead of off-putting, to his grateful bemusement. They laughed at his tart observations and lack of tact and seemed to find his uncensored honesty an asset, instead of a defect. But a childhood of hiding and social isolation had given him an outsider's perspective; it made him watchful.

It was the watchfulness that led him to notice Peter--another young boy, desperate for friends, alone. For whatever reason--his half-blood status, his shabby clothes, his obvious need for validation, his rather mousey manner--he seemed to be repeatedly repelled by whatever crowd he sought to ingratiate himself with. Remus had watched him anxiously bounce from group to group, ignored or teased, barely tolerated on the fringes. He had watched as Peter had spoken those intensely vulnerable words, “Can I sit with you? Please?” And been met with uncomfortable giggles and incredulous looks. Remus could never quite parse why--the other boy had never done anything that seemed all that objectionable, didn’t seem to be particularly obnoxious. Maybe it was the open and desperate way he was seen wanting to belong. And that was terrifying, because Remus knew himself to be no different, just more guarded about it. If he had had the gall--the courage?--to ask so openly for friends, would he have been so thoroughly rejected? He had watched Peter and had known that only whatever strange whims moved his only 2 friends had saved him from being just as alone.

One morning at breakfast, Remus had watched Peter take a seat at the end of a table and fruitlessly try to contribute to a conversation, only to be spoken over again and again, and had come to a decision. It had been only a month or two since the beginning of school, but his friends---his friends---had been consistent enough in their loyalty that he felt the risk to be minimal. They would accept this, they would not leave him if he pushed. Purposefully, he strode over and plunked his bag down on the bench next to the boy and sitting before turning to look at James and Sirius. James raised his eyebrows and Sirius scrunched up his face in ill-disguised questioning disgust, but Remus only met their gazes over his head, blandly, and said, “Hello, Peter, how was your morning?”

“Um…fine…?” Peter’s round face turned first to him, then the others in uncertain surprise. “I guess…?”

James shrugged and sat uncomfortably across from him as Sirius heaved a melodramatic sigh, but did the same. Remus steadily started loading up his own plate while saying, “What class do you have this afternoon?”

“Er...Herbology?” He sounded dubiously hopeful, and seemed to be trying to decide whether they were making fun of him or not. Remus, quite unsubtly, kicked Sirius under the table.

“Yowch! What the f--! Oh...Uh...yeah. Herbology’s...the worst, right?” He supplied unenthusiastically, before meeting Remus’ eyes and kicking him back.

“I mean, I sort of like it; I’m not really good at it, though. What do you guys have?”

Thunk. Th-thunk thunk. James waited a few moments before it became clear that Remus and Sirius were more preoccupied with decimating each other’s shins under the table than holding a conversation and gave a martyred sigh. “Well, I’ve got Transfiguration with Remus and Sirius has a free period.”

ThuNK THUNK-- “OW! Good God, man--!”

“Oh, McGonagall scares me, I always get too nervous to perform any of the spells right.” Peter shuddered and glanced surreptitiously at the Professor’s table, as if expecting to see her sweeping over at the sound of her name.

“Oh? I’m not too bad at it, myself. We could...I mean…” He shot Remus a glance. “I mean, we could all study together, I guess...YOW! What the hell, I did what you wanted!”

“Oops, I missed. Sorry.”

“Friendly fire, not a good look, Remus,” Sirius tutted.

“‘Scuse me, collateral damage, if you please, don’t incriminate me in your war games,” James glared at them and pointedly scooted down the bench.

Peter looked between them with a nervous laugh, “You guys are sorta weird, huh?”

Remus shrugged but Sirius swung around, offended. “Hey, Pettigrew, beggars can’t be choosers--!”

Remus gritted his teeth. THUNK.

“AH! I’m going to have to visit Madame Pomfrey on my off time, you absolute lunatic! What do you have, hooves?!”

It seemed to take Peter several encounters to figure out that this wasn't, in fact, an elaborate prank but a strange adoption process that rolled along more naturally when Remus stopped shoving it. He would join them in class and they would routinely save him a spot next to them at meals. They found that, once Peter was no longer desperately trying to prove himself, he could actually be quite funny and endearing. Remus would often find himself curled up on the couch, just watching the other 3 banter with a proud, contented grin. Well, perhaps it bordered on smug at times, but he felt he deserved it; it had been the first friendship he had a hand in.

Staring down at the name Pettigrew, written in Filch’s spikey, irregular script, he found himself wondering if Peter would have preferred it if Remus had minded his own business and not gotten him murdered. When he had relaxed, he was sweet, he was kind, he was mischievous--perhaps not charismatic or bold, but he had a good heart. 7 years at Hogwarts, he would have certainly found friends, friends that didn’t pull him into a complicated web of lies, werewolves, illegal magic, a War, and murder. Normal friends, ones that got together for Quidditch matches over the holidays, that sent owls to each other once a month after graduation. Normal friends that had families and lived. Friends who helped you be something other than a martyr.  A victim.

He remembered Hagrid’s insistence that they had all had a part to play, they had all missed Sirius’ corruption. But this was something that lay in his bones as surely as the blood curse that ripped a monster out of him every month, this was a truth he knew to be immutable. Deep down, he knew there was a poison in him, something that soiled everything he touched---the children in the villages of his youth had known it. Snape knew it. What other explanation could there be, when this deadly storm had somehow swept up everyone around him that he loved and left him, untouched, at its center. Surely, if he were doing the proper things, taking the right actions, surely he would have taken some damage, been affected by the absolute desolation of everything he knew. James and Lily dead, Sirius turned in secret, Peter, of all of them, the one to stand up and demand justice, only to be cut down. Surely, there was something the he hadn’t done. Perhaps even going back to that failing to simply run when he had heard the wolf breaking into his bedroom that night. He always waited instead of acting. He never took the right path.

It was like he was always standing by the wayside, watching as he had as a child. Simply watching the other people and their lives, trying to somehow absorb their humanity and learn how to behave like them, belong like them. He had never gotten the knack of it. Just a coward. Just a traitor. A perfect facsimile of humanity wrapped in a cardigan, but never quite right.

Grimly, Remus tucked the files away and gently set them on the floor. “I think that’s enough reading for today,” he said, softly, to the ripening light of morning.