#and i want to bite grim so badly. i want to grab him. shake him. have i said i wanna bite him? like CHOMP | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marjansmarwani · 3 years

Text

all the difference in the world

2.7k || ao3

Carlos and his partner Mya respond to the hostage situation call. --- A 2x05 coda (a.k.a if the writers won’t give Carlos scenes, I will.)

This was mostly written out of spite. Mostly beta’d by @officereyes, but any errors in the part I added after are on me and me alone.

---------

“I’m just saying, I can’t believe you didn’t invite me to the roller derby.”

“I’m sorry, I had no idea it would be your thing,” Carlos shot back defensively.

His partner turned to look at him for the briefest of moments with an entirely unimpressed expression, “It’s badass women on roller skates, Reyes. What exactly about that sounds like ‘not my thing’?”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “I’ll be sure to invite you next time, Esquilin,” he promised, “as long as you don’t mind hanging out with TK’s crew.”

“I think the badass women on roller skates can balance out the company of firefighters,” she quipped, shooting Carlos a grin, “probably.”

He rolled his eyes again, but his retort was interrupted when their radio sounded from the dashboard, “Be advised, all units: Code 3 at 235 Heyward St, unit 3F. Hostage situation, suspect is armed and dangerous.”

Carlos shot Mya a look and she nodded, flipping on the lights and sirens as she took the next left, bringing them closer to the emergency in progress.

“Dispatch, this is 363-H-20, responding. ETA 8 minutes,” he announced into the radio before replacing it on the dashboard, a grim set to his mouth as he stared out the window at the houses they sped by.

“I hate domestic calls,” Mya eventually said into the silence and Carlos nodded grimly. They had both seen calls like this end badly, and he knew they were both desperately hoping to never have to see that again. “Where did they say she was?”

“Third floor.” He glanced at his partner to see her biting her lip as she considered, “Why?”

“I’m just trying to figure out how we can possibly get up there without tipping him off. Dispatch said he was armed, we don’t want him spooked. That’s not going to end well for anyone, especially not her.”

Carlos nodded, trying to focus on the problem rather than the possible disastrous outcomes. He and Mya had responded to a similar call almost two years ago now and that one had not ended happily. It was one of his experiences on the force that had affected him most and one he still thought about from time to time, especially on bad days. But it was also an experience that didn’t help them now. If they wanted to make sure that didn’t happen again he needed to focus on the now.

Which was all well and good, but he didn’t know they were supposed to get a victim out of a third-floor apartment before they breached without anyone getting caught in a crossfire. They didn’t have the time, resources, or training to scale the building to approach that way. The only way in was the stairs and the door.

He looked over at Mya who met his gaze with an equally frustrated expression. Clearly, she had not come up with any brilliant ideas either. He sighed and leaned back in his seat. It’s not that he thought he and Mya were incapable of coming up with creative solutions. But after spending so much time about the 126 he had a new standard for “creative,” and honestly he could use some of that insanity he witnessed on a regular basis right now.

“We just need a way to get her out,” Mya said eventually as they drew closer to their destination, “once she is safe we can handle the guy. I just don’t want to risk her getting caught in a possible crossfire.”

Carlos nodded and opened his mouth to ask his partner if she had any brilliant ideas to make that happen when he froze, a half-formed thought popping into his head. Without saying a word to Mya he reached for the radio again, switching it on to call dispatch: “Dispatch, are there any available fire units in the area of the Code 3?”

“The 226 is in the vicinity and available.”

Carlos glanced over at Mya, who had pulled her eyes off the road long enough to give him a baffled look. He smiled at her before he spoke into the radio again, “Dispatch, can they respond to the address in question and deploy the rescue cushion?”

He saw the dawning realization on his partner’s face as he waited. She beamed at him even as the voice of the dispatch supervisor sounded over the radio, “Affirmative, 363-H-20. The 226 is en route and will have the rescue cushion deployed in time for your ETA.”

“10-4 dispatch, we’re about 4 minutes out now.”

He replaced the radio and turned to look at his partner, who shot him a knowing grin, “Only someone who has spent a little too much time around firefighters could come up with an idea as crazy as that.”

He scoffed at her, “Crazy enough that it might just work, you mean.”

She shook her head, still grinning, and Carlos sighed and leaned back in his seat, grin fading. “I hope it does work,” he admitted more somberly. “I don’t want this to be a repeat of…”

“There’s no point in thinking like that,” Mya interrupted sharply, “that was a long time ago. And there’s no saying this is going to turn out the same way. Not if we have any say in it. We’re already in better shape than we were then. We’re not going to make the same mistakes.”

Carlos nodded tightly and they continued their ride in silence. He knew Mya was right and that they had prepared in every possible way. They had done all they could, but there were still so many variables. There always were. Working with people in crisis was never an exact science and there was always a chance that nothing went according to plan.

They arrived at the scene and Carlos was out of the vehicle before Mya had even brought it to a complete stop, rushing over to the team unfurling the rescue cushion. The captain looked up as Carlos approached, “We’re just about ready to give the go-ahead,” he called, “we’re all set on our end!”

Carlos nodded gratefully and turned on his heel, meeting Mya’s eyes and jerking his head towards the building. She followed without question, waving for the other officers who had just arrived to follow them. They headed up the stairs as quickly and quietly as possible and Carlos did his best to avoid the creeping feeling of dread. He knew they had done everything they could, but that didn’t stop the fear that it might somehow still end in tragedy.

They had just approached the last flight of stairs when the scream ripped through the air. They froze as one, all waiting to hear the outcome. Carlos was nearly toppled by the relief of hearing the voices of the firefighters drifting up, assuring her that she was safe now. He could feel Mya’s hand on his arm and glanced over his shoulder to give her a quick smile. The victim was safe. From here, it was all simple.

He gave a nod to the other officers gathered behind him and they resumed their journey upwards, entering the hallway and barreling through the door. The man spun to face them from the railing, a look of shock covering his features. Carlos held his gaze as he ordered him to put his hands up, and he saw the moment he made a decision. Dispatch had mentioned that this was his third strike; he knew there was no happy ending in this for him.

He lunged for the gun in the same moment that Carlos thrust himself fully into the room, grabbing him before he could achieve his goal, stopping his hands mere millimeters from the gun. He could feel the collective sigh of relief from his fellow officers, as well as his partner’s gaze on the back of his neck. He ignored it, for the moment, as he wrestled the man’s arms behind his back, slapping the cuffs on him as he read him his rights. He stood then, pulling the suspect up with him as Mya stepped further into the room. She glanced over at the two officers behind them before addressing the pair: “We’ll take this loser down and get him to the station, can you two do a quick sweep and make sure all’s good here?”

They nodded and Mya gave them a quick thanks before taking the suspect from Carlos and guiding him towards the stairs. Carlos gave his own thanks to the other two officers and quickly followed. He could tell his partner had something on her mind, but he also knew she wouldn’t say anything about it until they had the suspect safely secured in the back of their squad car. They descended the stairs in silence before eventually exiting the building back into the parking lot where the 226 was in the process of packing up the rescue cushion and the victim was getting checked out by the paramedics.

Upon seeing his ex their cuffed suspect made to lunge in her direction but Carlos stepped between them, blocking his line of sight and staring down at him coldly, “Don’t even think about it.”

He deflated and Mya scoffed as she pulled him in the direction of the squad car, opening the door and guiding him inside without a word. Once the door was closed behind him she turned to face Carlos, eyebrows raised and an unimpressed look on her face, “You wanna talk about what happened up there?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, we got the guy.”

“Yes, we did. After you threw yourself in between him and his gun and our guns too, I might add.”

“Mya…” he began, but she held up her hand to stop him.

“I’m not trying to scold you, Carlos, especially because I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same thing. I’m just asking you to be a little bit more careful, okay? We take enough risks as it is, you really don’t need to go out of your way to create more. I kind of like you as a partner so I would appreciate it if you could manage to not get yourself shot if you don’t mind.”

“Aw, you do care.”

“I will deny that in a court of law,” she countered without missing a beat.

He grinned at her and she sighed before shaking her head and walking back around to the driver’s side. “Just remember I’m not going to be the one to tell your boyfriend you got yourself shot,” she called over her shoulder, “so maybe avoid that if at all possible.”

He chuckled, but her words also ignited a hint of anxiety in his chest. He had followed his instincts and he didn’t regret it, but now that the adrenaline was gone and he had the advantage of hindsight he could see how badly that could have gone. But he also knew that dwelling on it would accomplish nothing. He had spent a career trusting his instincts and he knew that was the best way to approach this. He knew that trusting himself was the best chance he had.

That didn’t lessen the risks and the fact that he had so much more to lose now than he ever had before.

As he opened the passenger door he glanced across the scene to see the woman sitting in the back of the ambulance, talking to another officer who was taking her statement. Her expression of relief was evident even from this distance, and Carlos smiled. This reality was better than any of the anxieties running through his head and he would focus on that. Today had been a win. They didn’t always get those, Carlos knew that all too well. They had to take the successes they could get, and savor those. Focusing on what-ifs never helped anybody.

Today they had won and the would-be victim had her life back. Today they had managed to get the ex before the worst had happened and that made all the difference in the world.

--------

Carlos looked up as his front door swung open, a smile spreading across his face when he saw his boyfriend and Paul crossing the threshold. TK met his eyes and matched his smile as he crossed the room towards him, “Hey, babe.”

Carlos met him at the edge of the counter, pulling him into a kiss that lingered. When they finally pulled apart, he grinned at TK, “Hey yourself.” He looked over TK’s shoulder to Paul, “Hi Paul.”

“What, no kiss for me Reyes?”

Carlos rolled his eyes fondly as TK chuckled, setting the grocery bags he had brought on the counter to start unloading them. Carlos grabbed some of the groceries from him, stealing another quick kiss in the process before he glanced between the two firefighters, “No Mateo and Marjan tonight?”

“They’ll be here,” Paul explained, “they’re just handling a situation right now.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, “That sounds like a story.”

“It is,” TK confirmed as he put the last of the groceries into the fridge, closing it behind him, “and we’ll tell you as soon as you tell me what you might know about the 226 having to deploy a rescue cushion under a third-floor balcony at the request of APD.”

Carlos smiled sheepishly, “You heard about that, huh?”

“Austin’s a small town, Carlos,” TK reminded him with a sly grin, “and the fire department is even smaller. There’s not much I don’t hear about.”

Carlos looked past TK to Paul who raised an eyebrow, settling onto the couch to watch them, “We’ll tell you ours after you tell us yours.”

Carlos made a face at him before turning back to meet TK’s expectant gaze, “It was nothing major. There was a hostage situation in a third-floor apartment and we just needed to make sure that she was safely out of the line of fire before we went to take down the guy.”

TK moved closer to him, wrapping his arms around Carlos as he peered up into his eyes, “It sounds pretty major to me. Your idea probably saved her life, Carlos. She’s safe because of you.”

Carlos shrugged self-consciously, “I wouldn’t say that. Grace did most of the work, figuring it all out and keeping her on the line.”

TK shook his head and removed one of his hands from Carlos’s waist to turn his face so their gazes met, “Grace is brilliant and certainly deserves a lot of credit, but you had a hand in it too babe, don’t sell yourself short.”

Carlos studied TK’s eyes. They were sincere and full of love; so much it nearly overwhelmed him. His boyfriend meant every word he had said, and he was not about to let Carlos get away with arguing. The amount of faith TK had in him staggered him sometimes. He let himself smile and gave TK a nod. At his nod TK smiled wider, leaning in for another kiss before stepping away.

Paul chuckled from the couch, “I’ve gotta hand it to you Carlos, that was pretty crafty. It definitely worked but it was also a little crazy. Almost like something a certain someone else I know might have tried.”

Both Carlos and Paul’s gazes turned to TK, who looked at them indignantly, “What?” he demanded, but Paul just laughed.

“I think he might be rubbing off on you,” he informed Carlos with a raised eyebrow.

Carlos huffed a laugh in return but reached out an arm to wind around TK’s shoulders and pull him closer, placing a kiss on the inside of his neck. “Maybe,” he admitted, “but who’s to say that’s a bad thing?”

Paul rolled his eyes and TK smiled smugly, twisting in Carlos’s grasp to face him, leaning forward to give him another kiss. When he pulled away his expression grew more serious as he studied Carlos’s expression intently.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, “I know how you feel about domestic calls.”

Carlos pulled him closer again, placing a light kiss on the top of his head, “I’m okay,” he assured him with a certainty that almost surprised him, “really.”

TK grinned at him and Carlos smiled back, looking up and meeting Paul’s gaze as well and giving him a reassuring nod. Of course he was fine; he had everything he could possibly ever need right here in his arms. He was fine because despite it all today had been a good day, but he also because knew that even if it hadn’t been, he had a second family now and they would catch him should he fall.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #carlos reyes #tarlos #tarlos fic #911ls season 2 #my writing #userkimmy #userjilly #usermaximus #userac #userbones #tuserpaige

118 notes · View notes

halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

GRIM DEFEAT

"Okay," James said, drawing the word far out past its normal syllable count as he glanced carefully between the book and his best friend. "At least now we know Sirius really is at Hogwarts," he finished with a mutter.

"Er, Sirius," Remus said cautiously when the silence just kept dragging on and they just kept staring at him like he would have a completely normal explanation for this. "No offense mate, but I'm honestly wondering if you hadn't really lost your mind on that one."

Sirius was mouthing wordlessly, his eyes so round his friends were wondering if they weren't just going to completely fall out of his head.

"Don't suppose it just has something to do with his low impulse control?" Lily offered weakly. "He finally made his way there and was just that eager to see Harry?"

"If he wanted to get in that badly though, he would have just broken into a home in Hogsmeade and floo'd into the common room," Remus corrected. *

"With a knife?" Harry reminded. Harry couldn't help but shift his weight around uncomfortably as he continued eyeing Sirius. Remus might have meant it as a joke, but Harry really was starting to have this feeling like there was some darker, unknown reason Sirius was trying to get into Gryffindor tower... but what? It had to be because of him, what other motive would he have for going in there? But something just didn't feel right, and as always his mind was unhelpful as ever in giving him a reason why.

The others were trying, their minds spinning in every direction possible for this to seem logical, for any kind of motive that didn't make their skin crawl, but they were all coming up with a blank on this one. At least four of them were, Sirius looked like he'd completely shut down and wasn't going to be processing anything anytime soon.

"If he wanted to get in that badly though, he would have just broken into a home in Hogsmeade and floo'd into the common room," Remus corrected.

James got uneasily to his feet and walked over to pick up the book, checking his chapter before walking back over and smacking Sirius with it.

"Ouch!" Sirius yelped in shock, rubbing at the spot on his arm, and coming out of whatever trance he'd clearly been in. "What was that for?"

"Felt like someone should for that stupid stunt," James said with an air of carelessness, while he was still keeping a very protective eye on his friend, "got any ideas why you did?"

Sirius shook his head miserably from side to side, sighing deeply before saying, "I don't know, maybe Lily's got something in saying I was just really impatient to see Harry, and I had the knife for protection? I've obviously not got my wand anymore."

"See, I don't know about that," Remus argued back with a frown in place. "It would have been much easier to set up something with me, then we could both talk to Harry at the same time. Even you're not so mad as to think this was a good idea Padfoot."

"Maybe now I'm not," Sirius grumbled, eyeing the ceiling carefully and not looking at anyone.

James and Remus exchanged heartbroken looks, while to be perfectly honest Lily couldn't really come up with a way to argue that point.

Then James grit his teeth in frustration, and made to swing at Sirius again. This time he was paying attention enough to duck, then glared daggers at his best friend. "Why do you keep trying to hit me?"

"Because you're being an idiot," James snapped, and Sirius felt like leaning back at the fiery glare he was now receiving. "I don't want anyone to ever say that again, least of all you. I'm positive you must have a reason for this, and you will get your chance to talk to Harry by the end of the year and explain it." With that he turned to his chapter and began reading; not leaving any room for argument. Remus looked happy that the subject was being changed, agreeing with James all the way, but Harry and Lily exchanged uneasy looks.

Lily couldn't help but wonder if her husband wasn't in denial about this matter. Something wasn't adding up with this, and though neither of them had an idea of what, they were both thinking it might have a little more to do with something other than Harry. Lily just couldn't help but think that, unless Azkaban really had driven Sirius mad, what other explanation could it be?

Dumbledore personally escorted the whole of the house back down to the Great Hall, and moments later the other houses arrived as well in a swell of confusion. Dumbledore instructed all of them that it was safer to be kept in here for the night,

"Interesting little slumber party," Remus muttered, still keeping a worried eye on Sirius. James' words hadn't seemed to be much comfort to him, and he was still rubbing absentmindedly on where he had now been whacked twice, and looked as if he was only half paying attention.

and to remain as quiet as possible, while the Head Boy and Girl were in charge. Percy couldn't help but swell with power as he glanced around the room at that news.

"Course he was," Harry rolled his eyes, now continuously throwing worried glances over at Sirius, they had all noticed he didn't seem to have as much confidence as James did.

Then Dumbledore summoned enough sleeping bags for all of them,

"Glad he remembers the little things," Lily chuckled without any real humor.

"Where did they all come from?" Harry yelped in shock, his mind boggling at the idea of summoning so many things at once.

"I'm fairly confident they keep a private store of those somewhere in the castle," Remus explained, "for emergencies like this."

Harry still found this a pretty big feat, but didn't say anymore.

and left. Percy jumped in at once, telling them all to get to sleep, he was turning the lights out in a minute.

"He is such a killjoy," James smirked, trying his very best to put a sense of normalcy back into his tone that no one actually bought.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione grabbed up their own bags and pulled them into a corner so they could talk in peace, while Hermione asked if Black was still in the castle.

"Absolutely not," Remus said at once, punctuating that with a roll of his eyes to show how ridiculous he thought that was.

Ron pointed out Dumbledore thought so, and Hermione whispered it was good fortune he'd picked tonight to pull that stunt,

James suddenly brightened all the more, a real smile coming across his face as he began laughing.

"I don't see why that's funny," Lily scowled at him, wondering if James wasn't joining Sirius in a spot of madness now.

"I was just thinking that Hermione might be wrong on that one," James disagreed, "and that Sirius was trying to get a bit of irony owed to him on this particular night. All that rubbish-" no one needed to ask why he couldn't actually say the words 'we died' and had instead deflected to that, "on Halloween, so Sirius wanted to make an impression."

Lily's eyes might have brightened with understanding, but she didn't look any more convinced.

Remus was shaking his head from side to side, not looking any more convinced but a little more indulgent as he replied, "think that's giving him a little too much credit mate. Can't imagine Sirius thinking in that kind of poeticness."

"Hello, I am sitting right here," Sirius sniffed, allowing a genuine smile to appear as he was easily able to focus on this simple thing, his friends picking on him. The others were relieved to see him get some sense of normalcy back about him, which made James feel all the worse when he realized no one was going to comment further and he had to simply turn right back to this.

the holiday where everyone was out of Gryffindor common room.

"Perfect time to try and sneak in and wait out for Harry to be alone," Remus reminded Sirius quietly. Sure that plan had some major holes, like he obviously hadn't snooped out and found the password for one; but Sirius could turn into a dog and hide under the bed for just this opportunity. No it wasn't ideal, it would make more sense for him and Sirius to work out something far better...but perhaps Sirius had grown impatient and gone ahead without him? It wouldn't be the first time Sirius had disregarded his advice on something because he was so impatient, though he would have liked to think on something like this he could have gotten through his friends thick skull... Remus sighed when he realized he just kept creating more questions rather than a solution.

Ron pointed out the man was on the run, he probably wasn't keeping track of the days of the week, otherwise he'd have just come right into the hall.

Sirius grumbled something about he still didn't think he was that deranged, but quietly enough he didn't think either of his friends really understood what he meant.

Then Hermione whispered, how did he get in?

"That's something I am still genuinely curious about," Lily said briskly, trying to keep her suspicions about Sirius' mind state out of her voice. She wasn't sure how good a job she did, since James kind of gave her a dirty look anyways, but Sirius distracted them by saying, "I've still got no idea. I really have been thinking about that, and all I can come up with is that I must learn something new within the next year."

"That isn't public knowledge, and that Dumbledore doesn't know and has proofed against, and the rest of the wizarding world hasn't figured out?" Remus asked in disbelief.

They were all genuinely puzzled, only one thing coming to mind in that Sirius was an animagus. That qualified under all of those questions, but what did that have to do with getting past dementors? Sirius did know all of the secret entrances in and out of the school, so if he did waltz right past the guards as a dog and use one of those, was it doable? That didn't answer one of their original questions, of why he hadn't simply done this moments after he'd been taken to Azkaban, why wait all this time? Of course, as far as any of them knew, this hadn't ever been studied; did dementors have an effect on animals? Was it the same basic principle as werewolf bites didn't affect an animal, just humans?

Harry was nearly bouncing in his seat when James voiced all of this, which meant they must be on the right track, he didn't normally show this much excitement when they weren't. By the time they had circled through every bit of possibilities on this subject, they were all practically beaming at having figured out something even this minor. It certainly made them all feel better than the other tons of questions they had about the situation that just kept getting worse.

Others all around the hall were asking this very question, one Ravenclaw kid suggested he might know how to apparate onto the grounds.

"Of course I do, most any adult wizard does," Sirius rolled his eyes. Even finding out something as minor as how he had gotten himself past the dementors finally seemed to have lifted Sirius' mood tenfold, bringing back his more boisterous and rather pompous nature.

He looked to be in such a good mood again, no one bothered to point out to him he most likely didn't have a wand, and the obvious part where he can't apparate inside the actual school; since Sirius knew both of these anyways and was just answering the rhetorical question.

A Hufflepuff postured that Black had disguised himself.

"Actually not that far off," James smirked, now feeling like rubbing it in Lily's face that they most likely hadn't registered and this was how Sirius was getting around. After all, if they had, then surely they would have put out an alert on Sirius' dog form as well as his human picture.

Lily properly acknowledged his smug tone by sticking her tongue at him, having come to much the same conclusions.

While Dean offered that he could have flown in.

"And we've already explained why that wouldn't work," Remus shrugged, "not only that, but dementors could sense him even if I did invite him on the premises, so that wouldn't work all the more."

Hermione scoffed at all of these, asking if she was the only one to have read Hogwarts, A History?

"Only one who's memorized it," James smirked.

Ron told her she was, and Hermione explained why each of those wouldn't work, and she'd love to see the disguise that fooled dementors.

"Well I very much hope it impresses you," Sirius smirked.

Reminding them they were at every entrance, and Filch knew all of the secret passages into the school.

"I doubt he actually knows all of them," James scoffed, "otherwise they'd be boarded up and blocked off from all students."

Lily couldn't help but wonder if perhaps they were. Harry certainly hadn't found any out of the school, but perhaps her son wasn't the best way to argue that point. The one thing she could say for her son was that he really didn't go out of his way to find trouble like that, unlike his father on that one.

Then Percy called that it was time they all get to bed, not to talk anymore.

"Please," Remus scoffed, "as if anyone could sleep with this kind of news going around." If he didn't think it would inflate his friends ego another few degrees, he might have even pointed out just how much of an accomplishment this really was, sneaking into Hogwarts in this manner. Side effects and actual reasons for him doing this aside.

The lights did go out, and then the most dominant noise was the ghosts flitting in having serious conversations with the prefects.

"Not as Siriusly as I could have," Sirius said quickly, taking the absent minded nudge he received from James with a happy grin this time. He was going to soak in this pleasurable mood for as long as he could, knowing by now he shouldn't count on it to last long this time.

Between that and the ceiling above that mimicked the stars outside, Harry found himself wondering if this was what camping was like.

"That sounds like fun honestly," Lily grinned, "I think we really should go camping some time."

"I'll keep that in mind," James acknowledged.

Harry looked horrified at the thought. He had no idea why his mother's innocent suggestion would give him a whomping smack, his first instinct to say he wanted nothing of the sort, but something about him, Hermione, Ron, and the word camping wasn't being taken lightly inside of him. He didn't say any of this though, because as always it came with that nuisance of a feeling that it came with memories he had no business prying into so early.

Teachers periodically poked their head in to check on them, and by the time most of the students had nodded off, Dumbledore himself came.

Despite the confidence James had that Sirius really wouldn't have stuck around and gotten back out of there, he also couldn't help the slight relief he felt at the headmaster's reappearance. Surely if Sirius had been caught, Dumbledore wouldn't have come back, but would be tied up for hours dealing with the ministry and what have you because of it.

Harry feigned sleep as the headmaster approached Percy, who was nearby telling off some kids for talking.

"I think he just needs to keep his girlfriend at his hip, see that 'lighter side of him' we still haven't seen," Remus muttered into Sirius' ear, making Sirius begin snickering again.

Ron and Hermione quickly pretended to be nodding off as well when Dumbledore approached.

"Convenient," Lily rolled her eyes, though to be honest this time she really thought that might have just been a lucky break. Of all the students scattered in the great hall, there was no way they could have possibly noticed those three in particular when they were talking. Even then, it wasn't out of the realm of possibilities that Percy would be cycling near his brother.

Percy asked if Black had been caught, and Dumbledore said no.

This time the other four couldn't help but joining James in the relief at this confirmation Sirius really hadn't been recaptured.

Then he said he'd found another painting to be put in front of the Gryffindor tower.

Sirius grimaced and pushed his hand through his hair in frustration, truly bothered he had clearly hurt the Fat Lady's painting so much it couldn't just be mended quickly, but James distracted him easily enough by asking, "Wonder who they got to do the job?"

There were several memorable portraits some of them suggested, Harry's favorite being Remus who offered they might have even used one of the old Headmaster's ones from Dumbledore's office, but then James really did have to keep reading to get his answer.

Percy asked about the Fat Lady, and Dumbledore explained she was hiding out, still afraid because she'd denied Black entrance when he didn't know the password and he'd lashed out.

Sirius couldn't help but bite at his lip, torn between anger at himself for this act, and confusion as to why he seemed so desperate to get in as really; seeing Harry shouldn't have caused this much of a forceful reaction. Yes, he'd be going crazy wanting to see his Godson, but then he grimaced at his mind's choice of words as he was once again very forcefully questioning himself if he truly had gone...well crazy.

Remus and James weren't having it, refusing to let him dwell on this, so Remus offered him back the baby who Sirius took happily, and James made the comment, "I think she owes you a thanks to be honest. How often does she get to travel the castle like this?"

Harry released a surprised snort of laughter at that, only Lily still look perturbed as her thoughts had been paralleling Sirius' and she didn't seem able to shake it off quite as easily. While no she didn't really think he'd do Harry harm, it still was distressing to even consider what had become of Sirius, and not thinking about it wasn't going to make it any easier if she happened to be right. Then she sighed as she focused back in on James, also recognizing dwelling on it wasn't going to make the problem better either.

Then more footsteps announced the arrival of Snape.

"Oh great, just bloody perfect, I really wanted him to come around and get his opinion on the matter. Would have kept me dwelling all day if we didn't hear his stupid-" Sirius cut himself off by blowing a loud raspberry in baby Harry's face, causing great peals of laughter from all of them at that sudden random act.

Dumbledore asked for his report, and Snape said that the whole of the castle had been searched with no trace, and Dumbledore agreed he hadn't really expected Black to stick around.

"See, even Dumbledore still has that kind of faith in you," James smirked.

Then Snape asked if Dumbledore had an idea how Black got in, and Dumbledore admitted he had several, though none of them fit.

"Would honestly kind of like to hear that," Remus chuckled.

Sirius didn't seem to find that quite so funny, having come to the sudden realization that even Dumbledore probably thought he'd committed that terrible crime, and finding it quite depressing his old headmaster thought that of him. McGonagall would as well, Merlin anyone he once knew would think the worst of him now... except Remus of course. He sighed, refusing to allow his mind to linger on this depressing realization, taking a comfort in that one small fact his friend still would have stood by him, no matter how little influence he could have offered because of his status.

Harry cracked an eye open to see Snape, his profile making it clear how angry he was.

"He would be upset you obviously got the better of everyone in that castle," James cackled.

Snape then tried to remind Dumbledore of a warning he'd given before, now trying to put himself between Percy and Dumbledore, clearly trying to butt him out of the conversation.

"Well then you should have had this out of earshot, like oh I don't know, in one of your offices," Lily rolled her eyes.

Dumbledore agreed with a sharp tone, a clear warning not to keep going.

"Hope he does, as I'd really like to hear this," Sirius said honestly, taking any pleasure in this old bat getting told off.

Snape didn't take that warning, continuing that Black may have gotten help from the school, Snape hadn't been very pleased with the newest appointment,

"I see what he's on about," James rolled his eyes.

"While he's most likely not wrong-" Remus shrugged, but Sirius finished for him, "like I need anyone's help."

Dumbledore cut him off that he did not think for one second a teacher would help Black.

"Huh," the others muttered, Dumbledore phrasing it this way actually managed to spring a few questions to mind. Was Dumbledore implying he didn't think Remus would help him, in which case Remus would have had to lie and fool the headmaster about this; or did Dumbledore possibly know something? That Sirius was innocent every person in this room still believed, could it be possible Dumbledore still believed it too, and hadn't been able to do anything about it during the trial, and was now trying to possibly help out Sirius himself.

Harry in particular didn't really think that, and it also turned his mind into an even darker train of thought, could he be saying that because Dumbledore really thought Remus wouldn't help Sirius? Why though, what could make the headmaster think this? Harry was getting a very sticky feeling deep inside him, that emptiness was rearing its ugly head when his mind was trying to disagree with his gut on this matter.

James couldn't help but hesitate before he kept reading this time, torn between wanting to question this further, and afraid of what answers might crop up. After exchanging a look with Remus, and the silence continued to drag on from the others, he decided to leave that one be for a time.

Then Dumbledore excused himself, saying he had to go and check on the dementors. Percy asked why they hadn't helped search the castle, and Dumbledore stated that so long as he was running this school, no dementor would come through those doors.

"Thank Merlin for that," Lily said in relief. Harry ignored his odd little tick in the brain trying to say that would be a lie someday as well.

Harry looked over to see Ron and Hermione looking just as confused as him.

Sirius couldn't help a surprised snort of laughter, he honestly kept forgetting these kids in the book weren't privy to the knowledge they were half the time. It was more than obvious to them, but of course even Harry wouldn't have known at the time Remus was obviously who they meant. Then that humor dried up slightly, just a tad of resentment taking its place as he remembered all over again Harry really should have known that.

Black was in every conversation for the next several days.

Sirius couldn't help but grimace at that, having always enjoyed attention in his youth, and finding that mirrored back now the worst form of mockery.

Everyone was speculating to no end how he could have pulled off this latest stunt, Hannah suggesting that he turned himself into a bush.

"I threatened to turn you into a dandelion one time," Lily remembered fondly.

That gave them all a soft moment of amusement again, Harry in particular as he asked, "and why was that?"

"I caught him flirting with one of my friends, the day after he'd broken up with another girl," Lily shrugged, "told him to get lost or I'd turn him from a hound dog to a dandelion. Seemed cleverer at the time than it does now."

"I took the threat for what it was though," Sirius shrugged, not looking any kind of abashed at this little retelling, "wouldn't have been the first time Lily'd cursed me for much less."

The Fat Lady had been replaced with Sir Cadogan,

"Wow," Remus chuckled in amusement, "didn't see that one coming."

"This ought to be fun to watch," James agreed mildly.

Harry rolled his eyes, already getting a faint feeling of more agitation then humor, but didn't argue the point.

which didn't please anybody as he randomly changed the password twice a day into the most random things possible.

"Can he do that?" Lily frowned, "thought only McGonagall could do that."

"Probably gave him permission, after my little stunt," Sirius reminded her, with just a touch of bitterness complimenting that.

Seamus could be heard complaining to Percy about it, but Percy pointed out he couldn't do anything about it, as Cadogan had been the only one willing to do the job.

"Brave or suicidal," Sirius piped up again, and when Remus made to smack him again for that dark humor, Sirius quickly reminded, "thought I was allowed to make jokes about that."

Remus sneered at him, still not finding that the least bit funny, but Merlin if it made him feel better who was he to argue?

Harry couldn't care less about this though, as he had his own problem. He was now being followed,

"Oh crap," James groaned, planting his face in the pages for a moment to collect himself at this amount of absurdity all over again. He still found it laughable at best of anyone thinking Sirius could do Harry real harm, but he obviously couldn't convince anyone of that in this future, and it was pointless to grumble on the matter now when Sirius was trying too hard not to let himself stay down on this matter, so he blasted through this part as fast as he could.

by teachers who found any reason to walk with him to his next class, and worst of all Percy, who Harry got the suspicion was acting on orders from his own mother, kept an eye on him like some guard dog.

"Can't deny I adore the description anyway," Sirius huffed to himself.

Remus rolled his eyes, not finding it any more amusing his using the dog jokes then his own name, and dearly wishing he hadn't given up the baby now so that he had more a reason to swing at him.

McGonagall turned out to be worst of all, as she called Harry to her office one day with the demeanour akin to someone dying.

"Only person that could refer to is the Dursleys," Harry offered, trying his own attempt at humor, "then I can't imagine I'd be too sorry."

That did give them all a chance to give a laugh, albeit a dark one as they half wished that were true anyways.

She began to explain that she couldn't hide it from him anymore in a serious tone,

Sirius opened his mouth to say that same joke again, but Remus took the opportunity to poke him in the jaw, smirking as he scolded, "not twice in the same chapter, please save my sanity from that."

Sirius rolled his eyes at him, telling his friend now he was being a killjoy, and James took that distraction to read out the ridiculous sentence

that Black was supposedly after Harry. Harry said he knew this, he'd heard about it over the summer from Mr. Weasley.

"Oh yeah, you could just hear the surprise in Harry," Lily rolled her eyes, wanting to laugh all over again as even she wouldn't have openly admitted to eavesdropping like Harry had done twice now.

While shocked, McGonagall said that he should then understand full well why he was being taken off the Quidditch team.

"She what!" James cried in outrage, now matching the expression that someone had just told him someone had been killed.

"Couldn't they just ask someone to oversee the practice if they're that worried," Remus scowled, knowing he'd personally volunteer in a heartbeat.

"She can't do that," Sirius spluttered in disgust. "What the bloody hell do they think I'm going to do, get onto the pitch and chuck that knife at him?"

"Well, yes it seems," Lily frowned over at him when James and Remus scowled at him for that stupid comment.

Sirius matched her expression, but James refused to let them really start arguing and began reading again swiftly, dearly wishing Harry would do something to make her see sense!

Explaining practices just left him to vulnerable. Harry tried to protests, saying he had a game coming up this weekend, he had to train!

"Well, she isn't actually kicking him off the team," Remus said slowly, frown still in place, but this wasn't as bad as he'd originally thought. "I guess it wouldn't be too bad if you just couldn't practice with the team, but could still play in the games."

"I'd still go crazy," Harry disagreed, "Quidditch was the best stress relief I had, no way do I want that taken away."

McGonagall did consider, and Harry held out hope since he knew his head of house was as much a fan of her team as anyone, so she did bargain that Harry could keep at it so long as Madam Hooch was there at all times.

"Thank you," all the boys breathed in relief. Lily rolled her eyes, she personally wouldn't have felt too bad if Harry hadn't been able to play anymore since the moment he'd started he'd yet to be able to go one game without her heart wanting to leap out of its chest, but she wasn't going to begrudge Harry this getaway either.

While the weather seemed determined to rain on them until they drowned, this had never affected the Gryffindor's practices, now overseen by Madam Hooch.

"Bollocks," Sirius scowled when he realized this was most likely going to be the chapter that held said match.

James gave him a pitying look, but before he could even open his mouth to offer Sirius turned his attention resolutely back to the baby, silently answering before he could offer. Sirius would keep his word, he'd wait until Harry's final year to openly demand his due Quidditch match, but it certainly was frustrating this just kept skipping over him.

James considered for a moment still asking, Sirius might have silently answered but he'd been dealing with so much lately he might have forced him to read it just to put a real smile back in place, but then Remus subtly shook his head and pointed out the now dozing child. If James traded now, baby Harry would fully wake up again, and they may as well give the kid his nap while he could.

The father shrugged and decided to go on. Harry watched all of this with high interest, greatly enjoying the silent conversation that had just taken place, and feeling a depressing realization all over again when he recognized he'd never truly see this in his own time.

It wasn't until the training run before the game that Wood delivered the worst news, that they were going to be playing Hufflepuff instead of Slytherin.

"Those crappy little tarts," James said at once.

"Is Malfoy still faking that injury," Remus rolled his eyes.

"Sadly yes," Harry sighed, that remembered issue making its reappearance. "How come Madam Pomfrey couldn't prove that he wasn't faking this?" He added on, as it was obvious to anyone as far as he was concerned.

James did not look pleased as he worked out, "As it wasn't technically school related, he still had an arm to do his homework and such, I suppose Wood couldn't have gotten this to happen. He had no proof, and so long as Hufflepuff agreed to the switch it wasn't technically forfeiting."

"What's the big difference?" Lily asked curiously, as all the boys were clearly taking a great offense to this. Lily certainly found it sad that these students were still playing up this, but she could tell there was something else about this.

Sirius was more than happy to explain, all the while using a huffy tone at these little jerks, "Every team has a different style of playing. So giving such short notice that the team won't be playing means they've been practicing a completely different regiment then they would have against the other team."

Lily couldn't help but recognize that there clearly was much more thought and skill in this sport then she normally thought, but simply nodded in understanding.

Wood as outraged as anyone at the news as he explained that they'd been able to get away with this because Malfoy's arm was still injured. Of course Wood knew they just didn't want to play in this horrid weather.

"Like it will make a difference when they still play," James spat. "Gryffindor's team will still smoke the field with these backhanded twats."

Harry insisted that Malfoy was faking it, but as they couldn't prove that, they were stuck. Then Wood informed Harry that Hufflepuff's Seeker was named Cedric Diggory.

Harry suddenly released a furious yelp of pain, clasping his hand to his forehead like he'd just been scalded. The others startled at once, looking to him with mounting worry, but Harry was determinedly already putting himself under control, ignoring the painful build up that name had caused and blinking the white spots out of his eyes to glance around and see their fearful looks. He gave them a sheepish smile, but didn't offer an apology this time, knowing by now how that would be received, and instead explained the feeling that had accompanied the flash. "Another name I'm sure I know. It is definitely significant to me," then he paused and cocked his head to the side as he tried to consider and absorb all he could from that already faded feeling without straining himself. He shrugged, recognizing he had nothing else to offer on this.

The rest of them exchanged curious looks, that had hardly explained why Harry felt so strongly about this student, but knew better than to press him for a more direct answer.

The Chaser girls began to giggle.

James rolled his eyes, not understanding that attitude one bit about a rival team, but read curiously.

Wood asked what was so funny, and Angelina happily explained that Diggory was that handsome one, yes?

"Ah," Lily smirked.

"Would recommend against dating someone on a different house team," Remus chuckled, "but to each their own."

Fred snapped back people only thought that because he was too dense to say anything.

"Did I detect a hint of some jealousy in that?" Sirius asked with interest.

"Wouldn't surprise me," James shrugged, not nearly as curious about these boys love life, and far more concerned about what kind of player this Diggory was.

Then Fred continued addressing Oliver, reminding him the last time they'd gone against Hufflepuff, Harry had broken a record for the fastest catch.

"Hope he doesn't let them get too over confident," James noted, quirking a brow in surprise, "letting them get cocky could cost them later."

"Wish someone had told you that sooner," Lily snipped at him, and James gave her an indulgent smile for that.

Wood rounded on him, shouting that was completely different!

"Dang, bit of an overreaction with the shouting," Sirius winced.

"Might I remind you, this is the same boy who said, 'get the snitch or die trying'" Lily rolled her eyes, "I don't think anything's an overreaction to this boy about this game."

"Mum," Harry groaned, "I told you, he didn't really mean that."

Lily shrugged, she still wasn't taking that back.

Wood was still insisting they had to remain sharp, as Diggory was bigger than Harry and his bulk would be an advantage in this weather! They had to win! Fred looked very startled as he began calming his captain.

"Glad I wasn't the only one thinking it," Sirius smirked, though to be honest he did agree with Oliver as well. He would love more than anything to hear about Harry getting the Cup, it would probably make up for any awful feelings he had about this year.

Promising they were taking Hufflepuff seriously.

"Oh come on!" Sirius cried in outrage, receiving two very sharp pokes from both sides of him, making him squirm slightly and nearly waking up the infant. Both boys looked slightly repentant, and Sirius began grumbling if they didn't stop it he was going to move to the fireplace again. James didn't take the threat, well seriously, but he did stop attempting to smother his friend; while he was holding his son anyways.

The weather refused to be on their side, slowly getting worse as time went on, to the pleasure of Malfoy.

"Wish they would just cancel the match, and wait until this little brat stops faking his injury," Lily sighed.

"Not going to happen," James shook his head, "last year was an anomaly, Quidditch isn't usually cancelled for anything, since in the professional leagues Quidditch really isn't cancelled for anything."

He lamented how sad he was he couldn't play because of his injury.

"Someone needs to show that kid a real injury," Sirius scowled.

Harry didn't get much of a chance to think on that, as Wood kept randomly running up to Harry in the corridors and coaching him on maneuvers for the game, and at one point this went on for so long he realized he was late for his DADA class.

"Well then, it's a good thing you have such an understanding professor," James snickered.

Remus rolled his eyes indulgently, privately thinking he would end up defending himself if his future self did give Harry a warning for that, then he went slightly cross-eyed, still finding it just a little weird he was thinking of himself in the future tense at all like this.

Wood was still yelling after Harry as he ran off that Diggory was known for his turning abilities,

"Glad he took the hint," Lily grumbled.

but Harry paid that no mind as he darted into class, already apologizing to his professor for being late, when he caught sight of Snape.

"Say what?" They all frowned, looking genuinely upset and confused at this.

Then Remus blinked in understanding, asking, "don't suppose you know how close to a full moon it was Harry?"

Harry thought about it for a moment before shrugging, admitting he really had no idea as he didn't keep an eye on that type of thing.

James was still frowning as he said, "yes alright, so you wouldn't be feeling too good if that's it, but Snape! No other teacher could have covered for you!"

"I'm fairly sure I didn't get to pick my replacement," Remus offered.

Sirius was just a little too distracted to put his opinion on this, thinking back to that potion and what he'd thought it was. If Remus was still this sick around the full moon, had they been wrong, and this had nothing to do with his lycanthropy? He was still frowning, very unhappy that he might have been wrong on that guess, but also at least a bit happy he'd never voiced this theory, since they would have been wrong and it would have given false hopes to Remus.

Harry was still scowling though, grumbling that, "of all our rotten luck. We'd heard rumors a few times by now that Remus had missed some of his classes because he was sick all the time, but the twins got Sprout for a cover."

They all agreed it was a real misfortune the schedule had worked out like that, but Remus had been right, it wasn't like it had been planned.

Snape wasn't pleased, telling Harry he'd lost ten points for his house for being so late and told him to take his seat.

Remus frowned, since he knew Harry wasn't always late he found that a far harsher punishment then it was called for, but this was Snape, so there wasn't any point in saying this.

Harry didn't, instead asking where their normal teacher was.

"I'm touched," Remus smiled indulgently at Harry, who instantly smiled right back. He didn't need to know the missing link he hadn't then to always know he'd rather have Remus then Snape any day of the year.

Snape smirked as he informed them that he was feeling sick today,

"Sadistic little bastard, finding that funny," Sirius scowled.

Lily gave him a rather ugly look, though mostly for his saying that while holding her son.

then again told him to sit down. Harry asked how sick, and Snape seemed mildly disappointed when he admitted it wasn't going to kill him.

This time James, Sirius, and Harry all said something rather foul for that implied tone, even Lily couldn't help a cheeky response for his being all the more unprofessional in front of the students like that.

Remus was just warmed and slightly amused at their defense of him.

Then he took five more points away from Harry for still not taking his seat, and threatened to do more if his orders weren't followed.

"Maybe if you did more to earn their respect, they'd listen to you," Remus snarked, causing James and Sirius to exchange triumphant smiles, very much wishing Remus would really say something like that to Snape soon.

Harry slunked off to his seat as Snape began talking to the whole of the class, beginning by saying Lupin hadn't left any kind of note about what they'd gone over in this class,

"I doubt that," James scowled, knowing Remus was usually a pretty organized person and would think to do something like this.

"Most likely, you just didn't look for one," Sirius agreed with a growl.

and Hermione raised her hand and began to explain, but Snape told her to be quite, he'd only been pointing out how little Lupin kept up with his work.

"He could have left you a whole damned book worth of notes and you'd still complain," Harry huffed.

Lily gave a disapproving look at her son, clearly thinking these boys were rubbing off on Harry since this was the first time he'd said something like this, but she couldn't disagree either.

Dean shot back that Lupin was the best teacher they'd ever had, while the rest of the class nodded in total agreement.

This time Remus really couldn't help but blush, the combined affection from this class and his family both unexpected and more warming than he would have seen coming.

James and Sirius were unsurprised, James continued in a rather pompous tone of voice as if he'd just received the compliment himself he was so happy for his friend.

Snape was not pleased, looking more menacing than ever.

Sirius rolled his eyes, knowing he'd have to see that to believe it. While he considered Snivellus no one to underestimate during school, he still found it hard to find him 'menacing'.

He scoffed that they were easily pleased, telling how a first year should have been able to deal with the stuff they'd been handling.

"And I might agree with you," Remus frowned, "if they'd had a competent teacher the past two years."

"I was fixing to have heart failure," Sirius told him with a straight face, "watching you agree with him like that."

Remus rolled his eyes indulgently as he explained, "I'll bet that Dumbledore had told me of the past two years, so I haven't been surprised one bit what you've been going over."

He turned to the instructed book, and went to the very last chapter, knowing full well the class hadn't gotten to it yet.

"Typical," James gave a long suffering sigh, before doing a double take at the next sentence.

Which happened to be over werewolves.

"Why that-" Lily then proceeded to call him something that would have made her go red in the face on a normal day. The boys hardly noticed, as their language wasn't much better. What Snape was doing right then was absolutely horrible, and he had no right whatsoever!

Remus went from giddy pleasure he had clearly been handling his dream job like a glove, to shame and fear that he very well might get kicked out of it before the first term was up. If even one student figured it out, mayhem was going to explode inside the castle, owls from parents were going to start arriving...Merlin he might even be arrested. No, surely he was just being paranoid, Dumbledore wouldn't have hired him if it could get that bad... right?

After being the last one to stop his verbal abuse, Sirius finally found some small words of comfort, "look at it this way, students have to learn this every year, and no one figured it out while you were at school. Surely it won't be any different now."

Lily wanted to disagree, saying it was slightly different from a random student to a more prominent teacher, but she refused to be the one to drain what little color had just returned to Remus' face; clearly he'd taken Sirius' comfort to heart.

James was still gritting his teeth so hard he wondered if it was going to crack his skull, Sirius might be right but it didn't excuse this slimeballs actions, but after swallowing a bit of bile forcefully read.

Hermione tried to protest that they were on something else, but Snape snapped at her he didn't need her opinion on it. The class hatefully began flipping to the proper chapter, and Snape began questioning them what were the differences between a werewolf and a normal wolf. Hermione was the only one to raise her hand,

"Guess I'm not too surprised," Remus sighed, not looking nearly as amused as he tried to put into his tone, "Hermione would read ahead and know this."

but Snape ignored this, taunting them that they could come face to face with the monster and not recognize it, Lupin was clearly lacking.

"Yes, because he'd just go out of his way to do that," Sirius growled.

Remus couldn't help but wince, almost happy now that he thought about it, that Snape had decided to take this lesson. Twisted as his reasons were, it was still slightly better than having to do this himself. He chose not to say that aloud though, knowing it wouldn't be received well.

Parvati began to remind Snape that they hadn't studied this yet, and Snape told her to be quite as well, before saying he'd make a mental note to tell the headmaster how far behind this class was.

"Behind?" James scowled. "I'd like to see how many of your students can pass a simple potion, considering how much they all hate you I wouldn't be half surprised if they failed on purpose."

Hermione was still trying to stay on topic, beginning to list the ways she knew the two differed, but then Snape took five points from her for speaking out of turn, and being a know it all.

Harry scowled so badly at the book, he actually made as if to twitch for his wand that time.

"That man has no bounds," Lily yelped in outrage, "he asked a question and then insults her! I can't believe I'm even surprised anymore, after the way he's been treating Neville," she trailed off into foul mutterings, but the other boys didn't have nearly the same restraint. They continued griping about him for a few more minutes until it started getting loud enough the baby started squirming again.

James sighed, but relented they couldn't continue yelling forever, so pressed on.

Ron lost his temper, as Hermione put her hand down and looked near tears he shouted at the teacher that it was Snape's own fault for asking a question he didn't want the answer to. Disregarding the fact that he called his friend a know-it-all once a week.

"And that's why I adore Ron," Lily smiled fondly before Sirius could make a joke about how she'd mimicked him. "Very happy someone said that to him."

James looked for a moment as if he might get up and kiss his wife for that one, having only been a beat away from saying something similar, while the other boys were nodding in fervent agreement.

Snape gave Ron a detention for that, telling him that if he ever spoke about the way he taught again, he'd be the worst kind of sorry.

This thankfully didn't reignite the attitude, though it hardly lessened it. The only reason they weren't doing a bit more than grumbling was because they could hardly argue that point, though they each found it personally loathsome at the implied threat he'd just made to a student.

Then Snape set them to work on taking notes, while going over previous assignments they'd had. He was critiquing that one had been graded wrong, kappa's weren't from Mongolia,

"What, did the student simply say East Asia and that just wasn't specific enough for you?" James scowled.

and on one he wouldn't have given the student a three out of ten it was so poorly done.

"I'm finding it more of a miracle every day anybody ever passed his courses," Sirius snarled.

When they were finally released, Snape set them the homework of an essay on how to spot and kill a werewolf,

"He shouldn't even be allowed to assign homework while he's subbing," Harry huffed.

Remus personally felt he might have argued that point, for any other teacher, but didn't find it worth it for this pompous git.

two rolls of parchment,

"Two rolls of parchment?" Lily balked. "They may as well just copyright the whole chapter on them."

"He may as well simply write on the board what he's wanting them to figure out!" James snarled.

and he wanted it Monday.

"Please Remus, please drag your arse out of bed and make it to that class," Sirius groaned.

Remus gave his friend a pitying look, though he couldn't deny he hoped so himself.**

He finished by saying it was high time someone took over this class.

"I swear he'd mock Dumbledore himself he's so bitter about not getting this job," James grumbled.

Ron had to stay behind to be given his detention details, while the rest of the class stormed out and hardly waited until they turned the corner to talk about Snape.

"Impressed they even have that self-restraint," Sirius huffed.

Harry was telling Hermione that Snape had never been that bad before, what was it about Lupin?

"Even knowing the answer, this is still stupid," Harry scowled.

Harry wondered if it was all really because of the boggart.

"Actually not," Remus disagreed, then he blinked when he realized Harry actually didn't know the complete reason. Harry now thought Snape hated him for their childhood grudge they had told Harry about, but they had actually left something out when briefly telling Harry a bit about their time during school. No one had brought up the night that Snape had figured out he was a werewolf. Harry didn't seem to be questioning this now, and Remus swallowed hard before asking hesitantly, "ah Harry, why aren't you more surprised Severus knows about me?"

Harry just shrugged as he said, "thought all the teachers would know, none of them seem to be that confused as to why you're sick."

James and Sirius exchanged uneasy looks when they realized what Remus was considering telling Harry, then Sirius nudged Remus hard, not particularly wanting that story to come to his ears right now. Yes Harry right now still didn't really think the worst of Sirius like he did back when he was thirteen, but he'd still rather go as long as possible without that little story coming up.

Remus wasn't going to argue the point, so James took the silent opportunity to keep going.

Hermione disagreed, but did hope Lupin was feeling better soon.

"Trust us Hermione, we all do," Lily sighed.

Ron ran up to them not long later, calling Snape something that made Hermione say 'Ron!'

"What did he say?" Sirius asked, far too amused in Lily's opinion.

Harry told them, which made Lily do a double take that he knew that word, but James chuckled in complete agreement and moved on anyways.

Then he explained his detention was to scrub out the bedpans in the hospital wing, without using magic.

Most of them muttered either 'ouch' or 'ew' for that particular punishment.

Then Ron groused at the world why couldn't Black have hid out in Snape's office and done him in for them?

"Now why didn't I think of that," Sirius cried, shifting the baby carefully into one arm so he could pop himself on the forehead for the theatrics, causing at least Harry to laugh.

Harry woke the next morning with Peeves blowing air into his face.

"I've never known Peeves to get into the dorms," Lily startled.

"We've let him in from time to time as personal vengeance," Remus shrugged, more than happy at this change of subject. "The twins might have done the same for some pregame jitters release."

Harry asked what the point of that was, and Peeves just laughed as he left.

"He's a lovely chap really," James snickered.

Harry glanced at his clock and saw it wasn't even five in the morning.

"Dang," Sirius drew the word out, now grimacing in pity.

It was impossible to go back to sleep though, the weather outside was so awful you could hardly see five feet. So instead Harry got up and went downstairs to lounge in front of the fire, but as he was leaving his room, Crookshanks tried to sneak past, and Harry had to grab him to stop him.

"That cat really does seem to have it out for Scabbers in particular," Lily winced.

Harry gave his mom a curious look, very much wondering why his gut's first reaction was to agree with his mother's obvious joke. Cats didn't 'have it out' for any other particular animal...right?

He pulled the cat outside and scolded it, telling him to leave Scabbers alone.

"Never met a pet with a grudge," Remus chuckled without any amusement.

Harry was left stewing in the common room, reflecting that the larger boy Diggory who he'd seen in the hallway would have a better time in the field today as this weather wouldn't bother his bulk nearly as much.

"Well dang, this just all kinds of sucks," Sirius grimaced.

He didn't move around too much, except to occasionally get back to his feet and stop Crookshanks going back up to his room,

"Jeez, I think Hermione should put a leash on this cat," James scowled.

"We'll be lucky if we go till the end of the year without another accident like last time," Sirius agreed.

but before long the rest of the team arrived and they went down to breakfast. Oliver was in a clear panic as he kept eyeing the storm outside, and Alicia tried to calm him down it was just a little rain.

"Admire the girl's pep anyways," Remus smiled.

"Even if this sounds like quite a bit more than 'a bit of rain,'" Lily smirked.

Such was the popularity of Quidditch, that the weather be damned, and the stadium filled to capacity just like always. As Harry tromped down in the muck, he spotted Malfoy and his friends with an umbrella laughing at the lot of them.

"You just wait you pompous, arrogant little thing," James sneered, "you've got four more years of this game, and I'll bet the next time you do have to play Harry the weather's going to be just as bad, and Harry's still going to sweep you seven ways."

Harry couldn't help but grin at his dad for the confidence, allowing him to ignore a building sense of unease about this game. He was trying very hard to ignore this, not wanting yet another game to be ruined again.

Inside the locker rooms, Wood was trying to give his usual pep talk, but words were escaping him, until finally he gave up and led them outside.

"Wow, poor kid," Sirius said in sympathy.

Lily still couldn't help but feel he was taking this a little too seriously, but she also recognized that there wasn't much she could do but continue hoping nothing to bad happened during this game. One quick glance at Harry didn't help those spirits.

The wind was so fierce Harry was staggering even before he made it to the center of the stadium, and already half blinded by the rain all over his glasses.

"No one's still showed you that charm," James scowled at Harry's team mates. Sure it didn't say anyone else wore glasses, but surely someone would have taken the time to show Harry this.

Harry just shrugged, admitting that no, no one had told him about this so he'd not known to do it.

Harry was having problems seeing his own glove, how was he going to find the tiny golden ball? The Captains of the teams shook hands, and while Diggory tried for a smile, Harry saw that Wood looked more tense then anything.

"Nicer than some other teams, I assure you," Remus snickered.

Harry didn't hear Madam Hooch's order to get on their brooms, but he followed suit as the others did, and also went on faith as he kicked off that the whistle had been blown.

James couldn't help the little swell of happiness that reading this caused him, absolutely positive that nothing could go wrong during this game.

He shot into the air like always, but soon found himself completely lost. He couldn't hear the commentator, could barely make out the sea of students below, and more than once a Bludger nearly took his head off because he couldn't see through the downpour drowning his glasses.

All five of them were frowning at this, knowing the game was hardly any fun in these conditions. James was still personally affronted someone, like himself, hadn't been able to give Harry some simple advice like blocking the rain from his glasses, but he refused to let his mood stay dampened and so read on with forced chipper.

He only just noticed Wood waving him to the ground, and Harry shot down to find Wood had called a timeout, and Harry took the quick moment to try and wipe off his glasses.

"What did you even have to dry them on," Sirius rolled his eyes, "sounds like everything on you was soaked."

Harry nodded, admitting he hadn't exactly done a good job and had in fact made his glasses even wetter.

Harry asked what was going on with the rest of the game, and found they were winning by points, but they had to catch the Snitch soon to keep it. Harry was just pointing out how useless he felt with the glasses when Hermione showed up, telling Harry she knew something that might help.

"Thank Merlin for Hermione," James smirked.

"High time someone thought to give you that spell," Sirius agreed.

She took Harry's glasses and used the spell Impervius on them.

Harry nodded to himself, now determined to commit that spell to memory for future use.

She explained that now they would keep water off his face, and Wood looked likely to kiss her.

"I'm sure that would have been a sight," Remus said, not even bothering to hide a light laugh at this obvious joke.

They returned to the game with renewed vigor, and Harry was just banking around the field when he saw it again, in the highest points of the stands was sitting a black dog.

All of them released surprised bursts of laughter at this. Even Lily had to admit, loco or not, Sirius would certainly not have sat by when he found out Harry was on the Quidditch team and would swim across an ocean just to see this for himself. Harry went from startled at realizing this to amusement himself, further burying that nuisance of a feeling that something really bad was about to happen. Surely he was just remembering the feelings of having to play in such weather.

Harry was so shocked he nearly slipped off his broom,

Sirius refused to let his wince ruin his proud look, so he'd startled Harry again, Harry was sure to shake it off and continue playing.

but when he steadied himself and looked again, the dog was gone.

"Looks like you got spotted," Remus noted lightly.

Sirius cocked his head to the side, curious why he would have moved even if Harry had stared at him. Honestly he'd have much rather his future self had done something that would make Harry want to seek him out, rather than this constant disappearing act. The Knight Bus he could understand not wanting to hang around, but in the stands like this, why should he do more than he already was to stay out of sight?

He didn't get long to dwell on it, as he spotted Cedric racing into the sky, and feet above him, was the snitch.

"Dang it Sirius," James fake scowled, "quite distracting him!"

"Well I am just so sorry he spotted me at all," Sirius grinned with good nature, then he turned to Harry and said with mock sternness, "how dare you pick me out in the crowd like that and get caught off guard."

Harry was chuckling lightly, ignoring the growing tension inside of him as he continued bouncing around in unease. All of the boys noticed his mood this time, and James frowned for real now, wondering if Harry really might have lost the match this time. He quickly turned back to the book rather than let anyone dwell on it too much.

Harry slammed into high gear, yelling at his broom to go faster so he could catch up,

'Doubt yelling at it actually helps' Lily couldn't help but think, but leaned forward, just as hopeful as anyone else that Harry truly did win.

but then he realized something weird was happening. The howl of the wind was dying down, and a new cold was seeping in. He glanced around in confusion, wondering why his hearing was failing him,

Harry groaned, coiling back into the couch suddenly as the ghost of a chill crept back over him; he now knew without a single doubt what was going on, and he didn't want this one little bit.

James turned an ugly shade of gray as he looked swiftly from the book, to his son, to Sirius; coming to the sudden realization why Sirius might have run out of there now. If Sirius had sensed the dementors coming, it's no wonder he would have bolted.

Sirius had to restrain himself from not shivering so hard it would wake up the napping child in his lap, but instead wrapped his arms as tight around him as he could without disturbing him. Remus gave him a pitiful look, but no words of comfort really came to mind.

Lily made a choking noise, remembering all too well what had happened the last time Harry had been around those things. She didn't even have the heart to ask how high up he was on his broom, but simply scooped up her sons hand and held it tightly in her own, feeling slightly warmed when he returned the pressure.

then Harry glanced down as he recognized that cold feeling, and saw them moving on the field blow, gliding up towards them.

"Like I needed confirmation," James muttered as he turned the page with perhaps more force than necessary out of nerves.

At least a hundred dementors,

"A-a hun-" Lily stuttered, looking nearly faint.

"Harry passed out when he was around one," James moaned, his hands shaking so hard the book was close to falling from his grip.

Harry didn't seem to appreciate the reminder, but he just couldn't muster up the energy to gripe at his dad for it. The echo of that empty, cold feeling was as clear now as if he were in front of a dementor right now, but it wasn't nearly as bad as what his gut was insisting. Something was about to happen, something bad, something that his family wasn't going to appreciate hearing about.

Sirius and Remus exchanged a look, still on the same mindset as James and hoping that at least this time someone would step in sooner and try to get rid of those dementors. Then each remembered their own reason why that wouldn't have happened. Remus was too sick to attend class, surely he was passed out in a bed somewhere. Sirius had just made a run from the arena, most likely unaware of Harry's condition, and even if he was, could he really do anything to help without getting caught?

James swallowed hard, now desperately wishing he had forced Sirius to read this chapter just so he wouldn't have to, but knew it wouldn't be right to force anyone else to read about this either, so he mustered himself up and read.

could be spotted floating towards him,

'Why him!' Lily wanted to sob. Those things were in a stadium full of people, she vaguely understood why they would have been attracted to the swells of emotion coming from there, but why would any of them focus on her son in particular. She wasn't an expert on dementors, and wasn't even sure of how they worked. She understood they could be controlled and given directions, but she also couldn't understand how that would relate to her son. She had no doubts though that no one understood this any better than her, maybe Remus, but she was far more concerned with hearing that Harry didn't break every bone in his body and couldn't bring herself to ask without really starting to cry so bottled that in.

and once again Harry could hear screaming beginning inside his head, it was a woman he knew, then he could make out her words, 'not Harry.'

Now the book really did clatter to the floor, and James couldn't help the tears that sprung to his eyes. He realized what Harry was remembering now...

"Oh," Lily whispered, swallowing very hard and blinking slowly and carefully as she tried her very best not to burst into tears as she suddenly realized what her baby's worst memory was.

Harry went pale as his father, leaning away from the book as if it were going to lash out and bite him, and almost wishing it would. That would feel better than this horrible pit that was growing inside of him as that memory came back to mind.

James was just looking down at the book like it truly was his dead wife. He didn't think he could do this, sit here and read about Lily's final moments. It wasn't like when he'd realized the deadly situations Harry was in, like reading the basilisk. Then, he could continually glance up at his grown son, and take comfort Harry had survived. Now though, now he truly couldn't do that, because Lily...

"Here," and suddenly his son was being placed into his vacant hands, and James was rather startled to realize that his lap had some odd little wet spots. He shook his head so violently his glasses were nearly tossed across the room as he glanced up and around to see Sirius now picking up the book and rummaging around for his spot. Then he quickly went about settling his now fussy child, who clearly wasn't pleased at the sudden change in placement.

Both Sirius and Remus were the color of new snow, and one look over showed Harry and Lily were only a bit better than James because they were clinging to each other. Harry was all but curled into his mother, and while Lily's lower lip was trembling violently she was holding herself together by brushing her hand repetitively through her son's hair in comfort for them both.

Sirius' hands were shaking so bad, he was likely to get a couple of paper cuts from flipping pages until he found his place, but he'd take that any day rather than try and watch James say what he forced out next.

There was another voice, telling her to move, but the woman refused, begging over and over again not Harry. Harry knew he should do something, because that woman was going to die, but there was nothing, he knew nothing but sound as the woman continued to scream for mercy. Then he blacked out.

He had read all of that so fast, most of the words had strung together and his voice was so thick with emotion it was lucky they understood any of it. They all had though, so it was more unlucky in this case. Sirius had to clear his throat several times before he made as if to keep going, but then James forced himself to collect his emotions, and shove them out so that he could deal with it later. For now, he gave Sirius a grateful squeeze on the shoulder, and offered back Harry.

Sirius took a moment to silently asses his friend. He didn't really like what he saw, but under the circumstances the fact that James wasn't curled up into a ball on the floor was a miracle in itself, so he relented. Recognizing that James needed to do this for himself, not only finish this chapter, but continue reading this play out.

Remus and Sirius exchanged a look, loaded down with concern and their own distraught at the situation, but Sirius did indeed take the baby back so that James could read. Taking several deep breaths to make sure he could go on intelligibly, he began again.

There were other voices now, talking about how lucky Harry was he wasn't dead, it was a very good thing the ground had been more mud than anything, but it couldn't have been that bad as his glasses hadn't even broke.

"That's right comforting to wake up to that is," Harry mumbled, rubbing furiously at his arms to get the ghost of that chill away. Lily wrapped her arm protectively around him, not letting any more space between them then she could help, but knew better than to offer a spell to warm him. This wasn't the kind of thing normal heat could cure, but her warm hug seemed to be doing the trick.

Harry struggled to remember, but was coming up blank. He had no idea where he was, or how he'd got there, or what could have caused this.

"Don't rightly want him to remember to be honest," James huffed, dearly wishing he could purge that own memory from his system, let alone it festering in his son's mind.

Then someone whispered how scary it had all been, and Harry's brain caught up and he did remember as his eyes jerked open.

Remus sighed, wondering if it might be in his power in this future to convince Dumbledore Harry might do some good with a couple of extra DADA lessons. He was clearly vulnerable to dementors in particular, who could blame him, and Remus knew without a doubt he'd work day and night with Harry to help him learn the charm to counter them. Considering how limited he'd been so far though, he couldn't help but wonder if the headmaster would assent to this. Clearly Remus didn't have a lot of say in the matter, despite that right now he wouldn't have cared and done it anyways no matter what anyone said, it seemed in this future he may have lost his will along with his friends.

Harry was in a bed in the hospital wing, with the majority of his team around his bed looking like they'd had a mud bath. Ron and Hermione were there as well, though more wet then anything. Fred was the first to get over his shock of him being awake, asking how he was?

"Absolutely peachy, and you?" Sirius scowled.

Harry let his mind rewind back, to that Grim he'd seen, watching Diggory go after the Snitch, then the dementors showing up.

The group gave a collective shudder, now knowing they'd rather break an arm then allow Harry near those dementors again.

Harry asked what happened after that, and Fred told that Harry had collapsed, falling fifty feet back to the ground.

"Because this wasn't the worst day of my life already, I really needed that mental image," James scowled, for the first time ever really wanting Fred to shut up now.

Alicia mumbled that they'd thought he'd died. Hermione made an odd noise, her eyes looking rather bloodshot at that statement.

That drew a wane smile from Lily at least, remembering her little guess that Hermione might truly see Harry as more than a friend, or at least it was heading that way, but she still felt a little too emotional about a few other things to really think on it.

Harry wouldn't linger on that, asking when the rematch for the game would be.

James snorted so violently the book nearly slipped from his grasp again.

"Well, glad he's got his priorities straight," Remus said in a too high pitched voice.

Harry gave them a rather sheepish look, before shrugging and admitting, "really didn't want to dwell on that memory in front of them, so I picked the first thing that came to mind."

"Would they do a replay?" Lily asked quickly, fully understanding his logic.

James mulled that over for a moment, deciding he needed to thank his son for giving him this distraction as he said aloud, "It depends. What with the dementors interrupting, and depending on when exactly Harry fell off, if that other kid caught the Snitch before Harry fell it would have been fair."

Harry didn't think his feelings could actually sink lower, but now as he continued remembering his teammate's faces, and his father's words sinking in, he realized this day actually could get worse.

James winced as he realized he wasn't exactly helping, so hoping he was wrong he read.

When no one answered him, Harry then came to the conclusion that they'd lost. George explained properly saying Diggory had got the Snitch right before Harry fell.

"Dang it," they all muttered, though absently noting they didn't feel nearly as down about this as they should have. Somehow, this game just didn't feel as important as it should have anymore. They were certain that if Harry had won and this still happened, they would have properly congratulated him, but do to circumstances, James instead did what any good father would and told his son, "'s'alright Harry. Can't win every match you play right? You're still a damned good Seeker, but even the best have to lose at it sometimes."

Harry beamed over at him, warmed beyond belief the others didn't blame him all the more for not only bringing up this terrible memory, but losing the game to boot. They were in fact going out of their way to comfort him and still try to make him feel better.

Diggory had tried to call it off, asking for a rematch himself,

"Least he's a decent kind," Sirius grinned.

but even Wood had admitted it was a fair game. Harry then realized his captain wasn't present, and asked where he was. Fred told that he was drowning himself in the shower somewhere.

They all grimaced, thinking the captain of the team should be up there making sure Harry was okay along with everyone else, but none of them could muster up the energy to be too mad at him, still drained themselves.

Harry curled into himself then, pressed his forehead against his knees in frustration and grabbing at his hair. Fred wouldn't allow that, shaking Harry's shoulder to keep his attention.

James immediately took back what he'd thought before about wanting the twins to shut up, and hoped these two would set Harry straight then like he had now.

Comforting the boy that Harry couldn't win every game there was, it had been bound to happen. George jumped in that it didn't even put them out of the Cup, it all added up to points from the other teams.

"See, you're not even out of the running yet," Remus reminded bracingly, making Harry really smile this time. He may have lost the match, and was still stuck on hearing his mother's last moments, but it was still good to know he hadn't lost his team the running. Surely there must be some way to combat dementors and their effects, his gut was already assuring him he was on the right track so that he could fix this problem and hopefully not have to deal with this ever again.

Harry said nothing, still frozen on the fact that he'd lost his Quidditch game.

"Happens to the best of us," James and Sirius said together. It still wasn't as funny as it usually was to them, but any attempt at humor was happily welcomed as the somber mood continued to linger.

Madam Pomfrey came marching over then, telling them all to get out so Harry could rest.

"She's such a killjoy," Remus huffed with a roll of his eyes.

Ron and Hermione didn't move though.

"Oh good, at least they got to stay," Lily slightly perked up.

Hermione began to explain how angry Dumbledore had been when he'd heard, that he'd been the one to use a spell to slow Harry's fall to the ground,

"Good of him, least someone did," they all muttered a variation of this, still wanting to kick at themselves for not being the ones to do this.

and how he'd used some silvery spell to make the dementors go away.

"What silver stuff?" Harry asked swiftly, having noted before this was what Remus had been said to do as well to make them go away.

Remus was quick to respond, explaining all about the spell, and by the end Harry looked nearly back to normal. He was so sure in that moment that he must have already learned this, no matter how advanced Remus kept trying to tell him it was. The spell seemed very familiar to him, it seemed to hold a significance he couldn't place, plus Remus being the one to tell him this felt right. When Harry tried to explain this to them, they all beamed with pleasure, having no doubts that, no matter how hard it would be, Harry, along with Remus' help, could master this.

Then Ron jumped in that Dumbledore had been the one to take Harry up here, but it hadn't looked good, everyone thought he might be...

James grimaced in disgust, mentally tallying up the times he'd had to say that aloud, and growing more than sick of the number.

he didn't seem able to finish, but Harry didn't need him to, nor did he really pay it much mind. He was stuck on what he'd heard when the dementors came for him, and the screaming returned. He looked around for something else to think about,

"Guess you didn't tell them then," Lily murmured, hardly looking upset this time. She personally didn't want to sit around and hear Harry explain this to anyone, let alone his friends.

and asked where his broom was? No one answered.

"Oh this can't be good," James' frown actually deepend at their hesitation, then he read quickly.

It took Harry prompting them for Hermione to begin saying that when Harry had let go, his broom had blown away,

"Someone couldn't have summoned it back?" Sirius asked listlessly, personally still too distracted by memories to come to really think on this much.

and hit the Whomping Willow.

Considering how numb most of them felt, this really couldn't draw nearly as much of a reaction out of them as it normally would have. It was pretty awful that something like that happened to him, but it was clear as Harry continued leaning into his mother it wasn't his greatest concern right now. Sirius couldn't even bring himself to make the joke that falling off his broom had really been the better option.

Harry felt a horrible jump inside of him, well remembering that violent tree as he continued asking,

"And I'm guessing the broom didn't come out on top in that fight," Remus sighed, so quietly no one but Sirius really heard it, and he couldn't really muster up a smile for him this time.

and Ron added on that the tree didn't like being hit.

"I'm sure Harry remembers that actually," James grumbled.

Then Ron finally turned loose a bag full of twigs and the remainder of his handle, and Harry stared down at his destroyed Nimbus Two Thousand.

"Ouch," James muttered, tossing the book away from him and watching with only the vaguest satisfaction as it landed on the table, then reached eagerly out for his son which Sirius willingly handed over.

HPHPHP

So this had to be like the most depressing chapter, for all kinds of reasons. Their wrong assumptions of all these people's motives, poor dang Sirius, Remus, and James, Lily and Harry, and Harry's Nimbus... but I hope you still enjoyed.

*A hilarious plot hole that I think can be waved off by Dumbledore, he allows Sirius to do exactly this next year but under normal circumstances would be blocked so that any random old person couldn't do exactly this.

**This is just something personal I noticed but couldn't work in how to make anyone point it out since Harry would obviously know by now, but does this mean that Hogwarts has block scheduling? Harry went his whole first week and didn't have DADA until Friday, why would Snape tell them to give it to him Monday. He's clearly assuming he'll have the class again for the assignment to be handed in to him, but that must mean the weeks have different class time frames different weeks. In the next chapter though, they clearly have DADA again on that Monday, so I don't know why they wouldn't have had it on their first week.

#The Life that Never Lived #Marauders #fanfiction #Harry Potter #James Potter #Lily Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #reading the books #PoA

4 notes · View notes

oingo233 · 4 years

Text

By The Lake* Part Five

Summary: A family friend offers you a place to stay to get away from an abusive past. Her home is a place that you are familiar with, an old town with a large lake you spent many days in. You went there years ago for one full summer, where you became close friends with a very young Daryl Dixon. You two were inseparable until you had to leave. But now you’re back, escaping from a past much like his. You will need to weave your way through the town’s problematic people, your own problems, and above all the confusing Dixon. Will you two find your way back to each other again? Or will he push you further away? And above all, will your past cease to haunt you?

Part one * Part Two * Part Three * Part Four

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon X Reader

Warnings: Mentions of abuse and violence(potential triggers), cussing, more mature themes(not smut or anything tho), slow burn romance, described wounds and injuries

Authors note: I don’t own the character Daryl Dixon, he belongs to the creators of The Walking Dead. This fic talks about abuse, and the terrible reality involved to spread awareness about the matter, not to romanticize it. ps. in this chapter we get hints at what really happened the last summer Daryl and (Y/N) spent together, which might be confusing at first but next chapter we’ll get more inisght to that. There is also super cute and sad angst between the two as their pasts are finally revealed more to each other. This chapter is just cute to me, I hope y’all enjoy!

Word Count: 3.1k

*******************************************************************************************

*******************************************************************************************

It has been a week and 3 days since I have last seen Daryl. He was never in Marks garage, not wandering through town, not by the lake, not anywhere in sight. All though sometimes at night, when I’m drifting off you sleep, if I’m lucky, I’ll hear Daryl's motorcycle as he drives through the night. I always wonder where he’s off to, towards home or away? So much has changed, it was hard to know much about him nowadays.

It was one of those lucky nights as his engine roared to life, but something felt wrong. I checked the time on my phone. 2:28 am. What the hell? Where is he going to at this hour? Going to raise hell with his brother? Or get him out of it? I shook my head, and cuddled deeper into the pillow although it did nothing to calm my mind. But it wasn’t my place to worry about him, we aren’t friends. Daryls bitter words from our fight often circle around my head at night. But so does the day he saved me. He still cares for me, he as to, right? I wouldn’t be ready to fight 3 tough looking guys for no one? But he did, for me. Maybe not everything has changed.

The hum of the motorcycle sounds the closest it has ever been. I get lost in my own thoughts and soon notice the quite of the night. No more engine accompanying the crickets and owls in the dead of night. Well, where ever he is...I hope he is safe, I think. My thoughts start to fade out, as my tiredness sinks in and sleep takes over.

Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock!

I wake with a start, my heart leaps to my throat and I can feel my fast heart beat. Someone was at my door, knocking quickly and loudly.

Knock! Knock! “Damn it, wake up!” Someone whispers from the other side of the door. They didn’t sound like Cherry, Mark or the kids. Could it be Carter? The thought alone replaces my beating heart in my throat with bile. I seal my lips shut and fight back the need to gag, a nervous tick if you will.

Knock knock! I quickly throw the covers off of me, and stand on shaking knees. Apprehensively, I grab the bat by my bed and creep towards the door. One more knock sounds and then I hear it. “(Y/N), please...”The voice was shaky, and soft. I know that voice! I unlock the door and reveal the person behind it.

“Daryl?” Even if I had a hunch on who it was, seeing him before me here still was surprising. Even more surprising was the way he stood. His one arm draped over his waist, hunched over. The other had blood trailing down his forearm from his knuckles, as it was raised in the air ready to knock again. In the dead of night it was hard to see the full extent of his injuries.

I drop my bat and turn on the porch lights. “Omg Daryl! What happened?.” I panic. His face had more bruises than flesh, and blood leaked from his lip and nose, covering the front of his shirt. He squinted at the light and did something I last expected him to do. He collapsed in my arms. The weight of him nearly had us both on the floor, but I steadied myself and wrapped my arms around him. My hands slid up and down his back, they were met with bloody welts. I raised my hands so they weren’t touching him at all, and tucked my forearms under his sweaty armpits to lead him inside. I walk the short distance from the front door, to my bed and lay him down on it so his back was facing the ceiling.

He pushed his arms up under him and tried to get up. I lightly grab his bicep and push him back down. “Don’t move.” I say softly, taking in his hurt expression.

“I’m not gettin’ your sheets dirty...” He mumbles.

“I don’t give a damn about my fucking sheets. Let me help you, that’s why you came here right?” I don’t mean to sound so harsh, but seeing him like this scared me and he was only putting himself in more pain trying to be polite right now.

“Ya said if I needed anythin’...” He trialed off, clearly embarrassed. He never was the one to ask for help, he saw it as weakness, almost like defeat.

“I know, I’m glad you came here.” I can’t stop myself. I reach out and comb back the hair from his eyes, running my fingers through his head of hair. He closes his eyes and relaxes into the pillow, flinching when I go to do it again, before visibly relaxing even more. Blood from his lip dribbles down onto my pillow and I frown. How could someone do this to him?

My heart breaks in two, and I hold back my tears. He’d see it as pity and push me away. I’ve never ever seen Daryl this beaten up, he won’t even let me check out a bruise. It must have been real bad for him to come here directly after being hurt. I scratch the base of his neck softly, thinking to myself how in the hell was I supposed to help him. His lips parted and a sigh escaped them, I don’t know how long we were sitting like that but in that time Daryl has fallen asleep.�� I smile to myself and pull my hand back. Taking him in all the way.

I always wanted to see him in my bed with me, whether we were cuddling, laughing, or other fun things ;). But never would I have ever wanted to see him in this condition. His shirt was torn and through the rips I can see raised, irritated welts of skin, and some deeper marks turned into gashes. Blood running down his tan skin. His face was beaten badly, and his knuckles were cracked open, leaving blood down his arms.

I needed to get him cleaned and bandaged up, but all the supplies were in the house. I had nothing. This could prove difficult. But it needed to me done. I had to sneak into the home of those who are helping me, and steal their medical supplies. No, borrow, I think to myself, I’m borrowing things to help my friend which they would surely approve of. And I’ll replace everything I took in the morning.

With that plan in mind I stood up and turned to walk out the door but a hand wraps gently wraps around my hand, squeezing it.

“You leavin’?” My heart leaped at his broken voice. I crouch down and make eye contact with him, half his face sunken into the pillow, the other half facing me. When I speak my voice is comforting, despite the fear and seriousness I feel when I look at his injuries.

“No Daryl,” I run my thumb across his knuckles which luckily this hand was clear of cuts. “I have to get a few things for us. But it won’t take too long, and I’m coming right back.” He drops my hand and sits up slowly, holding his side again, face warped with pain before settling into a stony expression.

“If you’re gonna tell em’, I’m leavin’ and you have nothing to worry bout.” He goes to stand up but I block him.

“I won’t tell them Daryl. Nobody is going to know but us. I just want to help you that’s all. It’ll be between us if that is what you want.” He nods once, and continues to stand there, looking awkward. I hold in a chuckle, and help him sit down again.

He watches me leave, as I walk out the door and to Cherry’s house, thinking of what I’m going to do. Do I even know how to clean all of Daryl’s wounds? I grimace at the thought of hurting him more, in a hopeless attempt to help him. But then a grim thought crossed my mind, of course I know how to treat wounds, I’ve had most of them myself. I arrive at their front door and try it. It was locked. I curse under my breath and check the back door. Praying to whatever god is up there, I try the handle. For a second I think it might just work, its turning, but then it stops abruptly and I almost scream into the night. Locked. What now?

I can’t go to town, I don’t have a car. I don’t have first aide in the cabin, and I’d rather die than disturb or “borrow” from the Hendersons. No, this was the only way. But how? In my train of frantic thought I bring my thumb up and bite it. Quickly I retract my thumb and spit on the ground. Daryl’s blood was all over my hands from where I carried him. Suddenly, the answer to all my problems presented itself.

I run around to the front of the house and knock frantically, putting a pained expression on. Mark opens the door, his eyes bags prominent in the moonlight and his half sleep state. He looked like a zombie. I felt terrible for waking him, but the thought of Daryl back at the cabin keeps my plan in action.

“Oh Mark! Thank god. I hurt myself...” Oh shit, I haven’t thought about this all the way. “uh, when unpacking and the pocket knife slipped. I uh, cut my palm.” He bought my rubbish lie, and glanced down at my hands. Even in the darkness, the blood on my hands were hard to miss. His eyes widen and he ushers me inside.

“Jesus. You’re on the verge of bleeding out!” His voice seemed much higher than before, panicked. I shrug, clearly I wasn’t, but Mark seemed convinced I was in grave danger. “We need to call someone. Cherry!” He yells into the night. Two lights down the hallway turn on and I hold back a long string of curses, this wouldn’t work. I wasn’t even cut and now everyone was going to come and take a look. Mark glances uneasily at my hands and closes his eyes shut. He chuckles. “I’m not very good with things like this. Blood is...well I don’t really like it. Cherry is better at this stuff anyway. Cherry!” He calls again. Cherry rushes down the hall, pulling her arm through her robe. Her hair sticking up, and matted, she looked just as tired as Mark. Behind her, I can see Monty stick his head out his door. He gives me a shy wave, making me smile. I go to wave but can’t for Cherry grabbed my hand.

I pull it back to my chest and fake pain. I wince and give her a weak smile. “It hurts, it would be best if I cleaned it myself. I just don’t have any first aide at the cabin.” She puts a hand to her mouth and closes her eyes for a few seconds.

“(Y/N), I am so sorry.” She hits Marks arm, who looks pale. “How could we have forgotten to give her first aide, she’s by the lake for christs sake.” She turns away and rushes in and out of the bathroom. She hands me a red kit, and frowns at me. “I’m sorry, we literally bought you one and totally forgot to give it to you. Are you sure you can do it yourself?” This plan has worked out better than I thought, I think to myself quite amazed.

“Uhm, yeah. Done this a hundred times.” I laugh to myself. “And don’t be sorry at all, everything worked out like it should and I have it when I most need it!” I swing the kit around, not sure how to retract back to the cabin. “Well, thank you so much, and I’m so sorry for disturbing you.” I give Cherry and Mark a kiss on the cheek and run out of the house like a bat out of hell.

I approach the Cabin and see through the window as Daryl’s face lights up slightly when he sees me coming. He goes to open the door but stops short when his back no doubt holds him back. I run inside and open the first aide kit.

“Careful! No need to be moving around, just sit still.” He puffs out air, some hair that fell in front of his eyes fly back. He eyes the first aide and gives me a small smile.

“Thanks.” That made me stop. I can’t help it, a teasing smile breaks through.

“Did thee Daryl Dixon just say thank you?” I giggle, he rolls his eyes at me, cracking a small grin too.

“Nah, you hearing things.” We both laugh lightly, Daryl slowly reaches over for the kit. I stop him, giving him a questioning look.

“I know what I’m doing, been here before.”He says. I place the kit in my lap and give him a look.

“So have I.” He sits back, eyebrows furrowed. His mouth opens lightly, I know he wants to say something, but his words fell short as he looked into my eyes. We shared the same look, the one you get carved into you from hands of abuse. Daryl clenches his fists and draws his lips back, like a dog growling.

“Carter.” He states, venomously. I give a stiff nod and we didn’t mention it further although it seemed like Daryl wanted to. I grabbed a towel and soaked it in water. I slowly approach Daryl and stand between his legs, he looks softly up at me from his position on the bed.

“May I?” He swallows thickly, and wordlessly gives me permission with a nod of his head. I tuck my pointer finger under the towel, and use it to wipe blood from his upperlip. He winces and his hands shoot up, grabbing at my hips. My movements falter at his touch, his large hands, calloused and rough, but so soft against my bare hip. My pajama consisted of a large shirt, and shorts like underwear.

“‘m sorry.” He mumbles, hands falling back at his side. I continue wiping the blood off of his face softly.

“It’s okay, you can hold me if it helps.” I smirk down at him, he rolls his eyes and I feel his disbelieving smile against the towel. Truth was though, I loved him holding me like that, I wanted him too. We were like that for a while, until his face was clean. I placed a disinfection on all the open cuts on his face, and an adhesive band-aide. When I’m done, I inspect his face. Even all roughed up, he was the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.

“This your dad?” I ask, after a while of inspecting him, he was inspecting me too, his small smile dropped, as well as his gaze.

“Yeah, my ain’t good fer nothin’ pop beats me. That what ya wanna hear?” His face contorts with anger. “That I ain’t nothin’ to him but a beatin’ bag, a disappointment.” He fist the bloody sheets of my bed. “That I ain’t nothin’.” His voice cracks and tears spill out of his eyes. He wipes at them angrily but they won’t stop. A sob breaks through his lips, and his body shudders. I wipe his tears away for him, and dab at my own.

“Daryl...You are so many things. So many incredible things.” He’s coughing on his sobs now, head in his hands. The sound broke me. What could I say to make his pain go away? What could I do to take it from him? “You’re more than what your dad thinks of you. You-you don’t need him...you have me. And I think the world of you.”My own voice cracks. I don’t know what to say that would reach him in the way it needs to. So I wrap my hands around his neck and pull him in for a hug. His arms instantly snake around me and hold on for dear life, his head tucked into my stomach. His cries stop for a second and I hold him tighter.

“Ya left me too...”He whispers, almost like he didn’t dare to say it, but he did. My grip looseness, the guilt from so many years ago hitting me full force. His head shifts and his eyes meet mine, his beautiful blue eyes. I expected to see anger, but all I saw was hurt, and vulnerability. Tears were drifting out of them slowly, and they glistened in the wet sheen. I hold my breath.

“Ya left me there in the woods. I thought I lost ya forever that day. The stupid fuckin’ kiss.” He mumbles the last part to himself. His hands bunches the fabric of my shirt, before he releases and stands with a pain filled sigh. His hand lightly cups my cheek, I hold on to it. A sad smile returns to his face, almost bitter. “Ya should of ran when I held ya like this (Y/N). If ya were gonna run anyway, then ya should have ran the first damn day we met.” His hand drops down the base of my neck, he traces circles down the base of it slowly, inches above my chest. It was silent for a few moments, heat and emotion trapped between our two bodies. “When you were wearing that pretty lil necklace, we lost in the lake days after.” His smile fades again as he drops his hand and picks up something from the kit. Dabbing at his knuckles with the towel. Ignoring me. He never was so open, I didn’t expect it to last very long. I regain my voice and grab his forearm, making him look at me.

“It wasn’t a stupid kiss Daryl. I was a stupid girl. But I never planned on running from you, not even the first day we met.” As a small chuckle slips from my sad demeanor, he looks at me. Shyly from his lashes, watching me speak, hoping it was true. “I should have never ran. Like I said, I always thought the world of you.” He stops messing with his hand and stares at me for a long while. He steps forwards and hugs me, a real hug. His arms wrapped around my shoulders, my head tucked into his chest. I hug him down my his butt, not wanting to hurt his back even more. I felt deflated. His lips trace my ear as he whispers into it.

“I was a sorry fool the day ya left.” His words echoed in my head all night, as we laid in silence. Him sprawled on my bed as I patched up and cleaned his back. He played with my hand, as the other raced through his hair, lulling him to sleep.

“Goodnight Daryl.” I whisper into his ear, giving him a soft kiss by his hairline before lying next to him. I was answered with a snore. I feel asleep watching him, and thinking of all that has changed, and all that has yet remained the same.

#daryl dixon imagine #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagine #daryl x reader #daryl dixon #young daryl dixon #twd #twd fic #twd fandom #twd fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #daryldixon #angst #romance #teen romance

72 notes · View notes

owletstarlet · 4 years

Note

prompt: tanunatsu + tanuma pines, natsume gets hurt somehow... hurt/comfort + fluff?

(That I can do, friend. cw for vague wound stuff--

“…sorry I woke you.”

“‘S okay,” Kaname mutters, automatically, groggily, disentangling himself from the duvet. 3:28 AM, reads the alarm clock he has to squint to see without his contacts in. It sits over in the corner where Nishimura and Kitamoto lie sprawled half on top of one another, snoring softly, the sliver of light from the bathroom illuminating their slack faces.

Kaname rubs his eyes. “Wha’s th’matter?” The words catch on a yawn as he pushes himself upright. Natsume’s kneeling beside him, hair damp, clad in pajama pants, bare shoulders hunched around the borrowed yukata he’s clutching to his chest. His eyes are too wide, face bloodless in the scant light.

“Do you know where a first aid kit would be?”

That is enough to vault Kaname into complete, unsettled alertness. He leans forward. “Why?”

Natsume hugs the yukata a little tighter. “Just, um. I don’t want to stain any more of your aunt’s towels.”

Kaname blinks. “What?”

“Sorry,” he repeats, in lieu of any explanation, eyes on the floor. It’s then that Kaname notices the fine tremor in Natsume’s shoulders, and he feels icy pinpricks down his spine.

“Come on,” he says, on his feet in the span of a breath and holding out both hands. Natsume only takes one offered hand, still gripping the yukata like a lifeline, and makes his own shaky way to his feet. Oddly, when they head to the bathroom, he waits for Kaname to go in first, and trails along behind.

And the sight that meets him in the bathroom is…alarming, to say the least. A mess of old gauze and tape litters the sink, some crusted with blackened blood, others tinged a sickly yellow color. Wadded up bits of toilet paper lying nearby are splotched with brighter, newer blood, as is the rumpled white towel draped over the edge of the tub. Presiding over the whole grim scene is Ponta, perched on lid of the toilet seat, face inscrutable as ever as he regards Kaname.

“Thought you were meant to be getting more bandages, brat,” he says, though his voice lacks a bit of its usual bite.

“I am,” Kaname tells him, hoping his voice doesn’t sound as faint as he suddenly feels. “Just needed to see��” He rounds on Natsume. “What happened?”

“I—” he begins, and falters, gaze casting about the mess he’d made of the bathroom before finally landing on the dark open space of the room past the door. It’s when he turns to close it, presumably to keep from waking the others, that Kaname does see.

Four ragged tears in the skin midway up his back, puckered, angry red and weeping in places. The shortest of them has to be at least as long as Kaname’s hand. He feels his breath catch, and Natsume wheels back around, looking rather caught in the headlights.

“It’s not that bad,” he says, quickly. “Or, um,” he amends, when Sensei snorts. “It wasn’t, until earlier today, I guess.”

Kaname shakes his head. “Must’ve been some really nasty stairs you fell down,” he hears himself murmur, through lips gone numb.

That’s what Natsume had told them, earlier, as to why he’d been moving so gingerly, why he’d opted for sitting on a boulder and watching while the rest of them had gone splashing around in a nearby sun-dappled stream that afternoon. The lie was transparent, and not just to Kaname; it had been all Kitamoto could do to keep Nishimura from staging a hostile intervention in favor of letting Natsume sleep when he’d dozed off before the rest of them had headed for the bath after dinner.

He doesn’t even have the time to look properly ashamed of himself before Kaname’s stepping forward, gripping his skinny shoulder with one hand and sliding the other up beneath his damp fringe. He needn’t have bothered, he can feel the heat coming off Natsume’s skin before he even touches, can feel him trembling. Natsume’s chewing his lip a little under the scrutiny, but his gaze has gone a little wide, something adrift and glassy in his eyes. Kaname takes his other shoulder, more than a little worried that his knees will give out.

“The room across the hall is empty.” He forces out an even tone. “You can wait there while I get the kit.”

***

Kaname really wishes he knew what he was doing. He’s got half the kit’s contents pulled out and strewn around by his knees, along with a basin of water, a stack of hand towels, and a bottle of peroxide. He’d had no idea if peroxide was the right thing to use when he’d grabbed it, but rubbing alcohol had seemed like it would be too painful. Natsume’s huddled before him on a fresh futon with his back fully bared, a pillow squashed between his face and his knees. Ponta’s curled up by Natsume’s hip, impassively watching Kaname work.

“What did this?” he whispers. The wounds don’t look phenomenally deep—though Kaname’s not certain he would know—but it’s clear that Natsume had needed, and failed, to get prompt medical attention. Natsume’s holding himself rigid, barely breathing as the peroxide sizzles and hisses. If there’s a better way to flush out the wounds than to just pour the peroxide directly over them, Kaname doesn’t know it, but he can smell the infection, acrid and stomach-churning, and see the red and yellow spilling from the edges of the torn flesh and into the towel in Kaname’s hand.

“Some great ugly bear-faced brute,” Ponta grouses, in response to the question Kaname nearly forgot he asked. “I could’ve taken care of him easily, but this moron wouldn’t let me.”

“He wasn’t so bad.” The words are soft, nearly lost in the pillow.

“Here, lie down.” Kaname helps ease Natsume onto his stomach on the futon, realizing he’s probably emptied just as much of the peroxide bottle straight onto the sheets as onto the wounds. Could’ve easily just been because his fingers won’t stop trembling. “If he wasn’t so bad, then why’d he tear your back open?”

It’s the wrong thing to say, Kaname realizes it immediately. Natsume goes very still, under his hands. The long pause before his answer is like a door slamming shut. Kaname thinks he hates it.

“There’s not always a reason,” Natsume says, finally, diplomatically. “They act on whim, most of the time. It’d be more odd to come across a large one like that that didn’t at least try to take a bite out of you, anyhow.”

That’s reassuring, Kaname thinks, dryly, though he realizes it may not have meant to be. Natsume had obviously helped the creature, sensed some kind of distress in it and shown it kindness even when it had hurt him so badly, because of course he had. Kaname knows if he presses for the whys and hows that Natsume will just hedge and evade and it aches, to be stuck on this side of a wall he just can’t scale.

It’s not the time right now, though, to pry further. Not when Natsume’s gripping the edge of the futon with pale fingers, breathing hard through his nose while Kaname uses a soaked wad of gauze to press the peroxide into any sickly corners of the wounds he may have missed, hoping he’s doing the right thing and not causing unnecessary pain. Natsume needs a doctor, if not now then the instant his aunt wakes up and can call for one.

“When did this happen?” Kaname asks. “The Fujiwaras left on, what, Thursday morning?”

They’d gone up to Osaka, the two of them, for a conference for Shigeru’s work. They’d wanted very much for Natsume to accompany them, apparently, to get the chance to explore the faraway city with Touko. But there had been a round of exams on Thursday and Friday that Natsume couldn’t be excused from, though the Fujiwaras had been relieved to know that Natsume would be going down with Kaname, Nishimura and Kitamoto to Aunt Satomi’s inn for the four-day holiday that followed. They’d all arrived Saturday morning, and it’s Saturday night—or Sunday morning, now, Kaname supposes.

“Um…” Natsume’s pause now feels less like hesitancy and more like he’s genuinely trying to remember. “Thursday evening?”

“You sat a whole day of exams like this?”

“It wasn’t infected, then,” Natsume replies, simply, and Kaname doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or cry. “And I think I did okay on my History test, at least.”

“Why would you not go to the hospital? Any of us would’ve gone with you. Dad could’ve driven you.” He’s trying really hard not to sound accusatory, or hysterical, but the sight of any one of these gashes is enough to make the bile rise in Kaname’s throat.

“They’d have come back,” Natsume says, softly. “The Fujiwaras. I didn’t want that. I thought it’d be fine if I just kept them clean and wrapped up…it usually is fine when I do that…and it was mostly okay until yesterday morning, but. I really did want to come here.”

It usually is fine when I do that.

“They’ll have to find out, anyhow. You need help.”

He thinks his voice must shake or something when he says it, because then Natsume lifts his head and cranes his neck enough to look back over his shoulder at Kaname, face ashen where it’s not fever-flushed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” It’s not okay, obviously, but he thinks Natsume must be worried Kaname’s mad at him, or at least irritated for having to deal with all this. And he’s not mad at Natsume, may be half out of his mind with worry but not mad. Or he is, sort of, that Natsume wouldn’t value himself enough to speak up when badly hurt for fear of being a nuisance. But that’s not fair, is it, not when it’s clearly a learned behavior to keep his head down and his mouth shut.

“There’s a doctor from the clinic in town who makes house calls here sometimes if a guest needs it,” he tells Natsume, now. “A lot of the guests here are elderly and there’s not any major hospitals very close-by, so. He’s nice, he saw me sometimes when I was little. That’s probably who Aunt Satomi will call first.”

He doesn’t leave it up for negotiation as to if the doctor will be called, and Natsume doesn’t argue. He just turns his face back down and into the futon, sighs. “I have no idea what to tell him about this.”

“You tell him you got jumped by a damned bear. That’s mostly true,” Ponta says, as though this ought to be obvious. Kaname starts when he speaks, when his eyes had closed a few minutes ago Kaname had thought he’d gone to sleep.

Kaname’s “no” comes at the same time as Natsume’s “I’m not telling him that,” and it might’ve made Kaname smile if he didn’t still feel so sick to his stomach. They lapse into silence after that, and it’s not until Kaname’s begun taping gauze over the wounds—he hopes he’s got enough of it here—that he finally says, “You know that old iron fence, at the edge of the park by the school? The one by the walking paths that’s all rusted out and falling apart in places.”

Natsume’s only response is a tight “mhm”—he’s clutching the futon again and Kaname makes a mental note to see if his aunt has any Bufferin tablets stashed away where he can find them, for the pain and to bring that fever down.

“You could say that you wrecked your bike there, or something. That the bars gave way and you went through it. I think someone in my class mentioned that happening to a boy from the junior high, that he’d hurt his leg and his mom’s been lobbying for the city to fix it. I don’t really know if the doctor will believe that, but the Fujiwaras might?”

Or they won’t. Nishimura and Kitamoto might not, either, and it feels both different and worse to need to lie to them directly even if it’s on Natsume’s behalf. But he thinks Kitamoto at least will have the good graces to not give Natsume the third degree when he’s hurt this badly. If Nishimura does, it’ll only be because he’s worried and panicking, but Kaname does not have the energy to fret about that tonight. And who knows, maybe they would buy it after all— they’re all too aware that Natsume’s still only about as coordinated as a kindergartener at times on his bicycle, despite their best efforts.

A slight pause. Then, “Thank you.” Something about the way he says it, quiet and so grateful, makes Kaname’s chest hurt.

“Of course.” He manages a smile, even though Natsume’s not looking. “I’m almost finished. Let me find something for the pain, then you can sleep.”

***

Kaname wakes with an aching neck and his cheek squashed against the futon. It takes a good ten seconds for him to realize why he’s slumped over like this, or that the thing pressing against the top of his head is Natsume’s duvet-covered leg. When he does remember, he shoots up so fast he almost falls backwards.

And Natsume’s watching him, head resting on his folded arms.

“I’m sorry,” Kaname blurts. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, are you okay?”

He doesn’t look it; he looks like death barely warmed over, honestly, bloodshot eyes rimmed by bruisy circles. Kaname wonders if that fever’s budged at all.

“Relax, brat. I kept an eye on him.” Ponta’s nestled up neatly on the corner of the futon by Natsume’s elbow.

“What time is it?” Kaname scrubs a hand over his face. A dumb question; he’d realized last night that this room didn’t have a clock.

“Still early,” Natsume says. Even his voice sounds rough, like there’s pebbles caught in his throat. “Haven’t heard anyone else get up yet.”

“That Nishimura kid would’ve kicked in the door by now if he’d woken up and realized you’d both gone, I’m sure,” Sensei scoffs.

Natsume’s eyes drift over Kaname’s shoulder to the door behind them, something sheepish in the set of his mouth. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry,” Kaname tells him again. When he’d gone to get the painkillers he’d meant to grab a coffee or two from the vending machine his aunt had had installed in the downstairs lobby to keep himself alert. But going back into the room where his friends were sleeping to fetch his wallet hadn’t seemed worth the risk of waking them.

“It’s okay.” Natsume studies his face for a moment. “I think I wore you out.”

Kaname’s sure Natsume won’t buy it if he denies that, so instead he asks, “Did you sleep at all?”

“Um.”

His heart sinks. “It hurt too much?”

Natsume nods. “I did try.”

Kaname puts a hand on his shoulder. He’s too exhausted to wonder if this is an appropriate gesture in this situation, but Natsume doesn’t tense up or anything, so he leaves it there. It’s as much for his own sake as it is for Natsume’s, really. “I’m sure everyone would rather let you rest today than try to make you answer too many questions, so at least there’s that.”

Natsume’s eyes cloud right over at the prospect of having to field any questions at all. “Hope so.”

Kaname gives him a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure the doctor will want to hear the details from you directly, but I’ll try to fill in the gaps if I can. I’ll ask if he’ll let me stay in the room when he’s here…uh.” He trails off, as it belatedly occurs to him that, despite him having had no real choice but to go to Kaname for help the night before, Natsume might not want more eyes on him than strictly necessary when he’s hurt like this. “I mean. Only if you wanted.”

Natsume doesn’t answer him immediately, takes long enough that Kaname begins to wonder if he should have even offered. But then he says, “Thank you.”

No problem, he’s about to say, but Natsume isn’t finished. He’s flagging already from the effort of holding a conversation, his gaze gone half-mast, but soft as the words are they’re still clear. “For, um. All of this. Really. I know I scared you.”

“Yes, you did.” He slides his hand from Natsume’s blanket-covered shoulder to the bony base of his neck, as good a place as any to feel for the still very present and alarming heat rolling off his skin. Kaname needs to check the bandages.

“Just,” he finds himself saying, a moment later, while he’s slowly peeling back a corner of gauze. “Tell someone, next time? Don’t be hurt on your own. If you don’t know how to tell an adult, you can tell me. I won’t ask what happened, if you don’t want to say, but. I’ll come.”

Kaname wonders, briefly, if he’s crossed a line by saying all that. But then he finishes lifting away the gauze, and he promptly stops caring about being presumptive. He can’t really say if they’ve gotten better or worse in the handful of hours since he’d first seen to them—he doesn’t really know how to tell, when it’s all discolored and swollen up around the torn flesh—but it’s no less horrific in the daylight. He’ll have scars here.

Kaname’s not sure if he should try to flush the wounds out again, or just wait for his aunt to wake. He opts for the latter, seeing Natsume’s shoulders go rigid from just the feeling of the air across his back. He replaces the gauze. “Just think about it? Please?”

“He could do with a bit more thinking before letting himself get roped into so many stupid situations in the first place,” Ponta grouses, poking the side of Natsume’s head with a paw. “Any at all, really.”

Natsume reaches out to rest his hand on the top of Ponta’s head. He huffs, rolls his eyes, but submits to the ensuing ear scritches nonetheless.

When Natsume angles his face back toward Kaname, his smile is a small, gentle thing. “Okay,” he says.

Kaname reaches over towards Ponta too, his little finger brushing the back of Natsume’s hand somewhere near Ponta’s left ear. “Thanks.”

And Kaname’s not entirely sure if that okay was an okay, I will or an okay, thanks but let’s change the subject. But he feels lighter, now, a little boneless, now that he’s said what he had to and Natsume heard it. And there is something quietly considering in Natsume’s eyes, peering at him from across Ponta’s back, unless he’s imagining it. Considering what, exactly, Kaname can’t say.

But maybe it’s a start.

#aceteling #thanks for waiting!#never have i ever written self indulgent hc #also if you prompted me I promise it's coming I'm just slow #natsume yuujinchou #tanunatsu #natsume's book of friends #ask prompt #owlet's fanfic #natsuyuu #tanuma kaname #natsume takashi #nyanko sensei

91 notes · View notes

pretentious-alek · 3 years

Text

Drowing on Dreams - Chapter 2

The pulled up to the poor boy’s house. You could hear the laughter of children and the annoyance of a mother telling them to. “Play quieter!”

Gary sighed and reluctantly said, “Who wants to tell them.”

He just stayed silent as he made his way out of the car. Gary who knew him well enough to read what he meant when he left, followed him.

“Together then.” Gary muttered.

They came upon a father and mother talking conspicuously. “He’s been gone for too long!” The mother frantically shouted.

The father, hoping for the best comforted her, whispering. “He couldn’t have gotten far. I’m sure he’s just playing with some friends.”

Gary cleared his throat.

When they saw them, the parents both crumpled like paper.

The mother dropped to her knees. Weeping heavily, wailed. “My boy, my boy.”

The father’s eyes were glazed and not here. He barely registered the distressed mother.

Gary knelt next to the mother and started rubbing her shoulders comfortingly. The mother grabbed his collar and almost yelled. “Who did this.”

Gary spoked clearly, “We don’t know.”

“Then…” The woman swallowed a sob. “Then how.”

Gary turned to face her and asked, “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yes.” The mother said, an unwavering type of strongness hidden under her.

“Drowning.” Gary and said, the mother opened her mouth in confusion, but was cut off.

The father still staring off into space whispered. “I see death every day, you know? From the killing of cattle to dogs getting baited, but I never-. I never thought that could feel this helpless and responsible in the face of it.”

That silenced all of them.

Suddenly a little girl came in. She was wearing pigtails and clutching a little kangaroo with boxing gloves in one hand and a toy car in another. “When is Max coming home? I found his favourite toy, so he doesn’t need to be so upset anymore!”

The girl beamed. Looking at her parents expectantly; looking for praise.

The father was shaking from trying to keep tears flowing down his face, but still he knelt down and said, “Hey Jessica. Why don’t you go play with your little sister for ten minutes and then both of you go to bed, huh?”

The little girl pouted and cried, “but it’s only six! Please dad.”

“Do it for mommy, ok sweetheart.” The mother croaked.

The little girl eyed them and decided the argument was not worth it.

The man was watching all of this in silence, he had not moved an inch since he got here.

Finally, he opened his mouth to utter a promise. “I don’t do this lightly, but I promise you, I will find out who did this and make sure they get what they deserve.”

The mother got up and stood next to her husband. She nodded, “then what are you doing here! Go figure out who did this to my boy.”

She was stronger than most would have given her credit for- with her casual clothes and tied up hair.

The dad, still trying to contain tears, just nodded.

The man walked over and helped his partner up and respectfully left.

He left with a hushed whisper.

“I am sorry for your loss.”

He took a breath starring out. The heat of the car consumed him like a gaseous poison. He welcomed the uncomfortable feeling that the heat brought with it. He nestled into his seat, which was a mistake. The car seat almost as hot as steel.

Vibrations echoed within the car; Gary pointed it out. “Looks like your phone is ringing, mate.”

“No shit sherlock.” The man said a small amount of humour in his tone. A smile tugged at his lips, but the urge was ultimately tamed with a flash of blue coming from within his mind’s eye. The same blue of Max’s corpse.

He answered.

“Hey. You might want to come back to the station.” Emily said. Emily was their secretary; her job was mostly helping them organize files, take tips, organize searches and, in this case, notify them if anything of interest happened around the area.

“Okay on my way.” He replied, ending the call.

He put his car into gear and speed down the road that looked almost like a sea of pavement absorbing the heat.

When he finally arrived, he was confused to see Emily, usually unflappable and logical biting her nails anxiously.

“Everything okay?” He asked, he knew Emily- while logical got a bit upset when it came to deaths, especially children.

“It doesn’t make any sense.” Emily muttered, more to herself than to him.

“What doesn’t make sense Emily?” He asked.

He waited a couple minutes, and she did not answer. Just kept biting her nails. Biting. And biting.

He grabbed her arm to stop her. He looked right into her eyes and repeated himself, “What doesn’t make sense Emily?”

“The records.”

“What do they say.”

“There have been other murders, with similar dumping style, but not always drowning- some from poison, overdoses, burning, stabbing. All dating decades back. Over 40 years.”

“Okay…” He drawled, hoping that she would add more information.

“And not just children- adults and teenagers too. It seemed that they targeted just teenagers for a long time and all of sudden they were killing adults and children at well and then that’s when the Modus Operadi gets shaky, but they were all dumped in areas freakishly like where you found that little boy.” She was ranting now. And she would not stop until he interfered, he also had a question that was nagging him like a mosquito bite.

“How did we not know about this before?” He asked.

“Apparently, before they launched an investigation heavily under wraps- to keep that crowd from panicking, but there was no good evidence as most of the people that stumbled upon the body assumed, they just fainted; it never occurred to them that the person could have been dead as they didn’t show any signs of dehydration. They ended up contaminating the evidence so badly that they could not do much about it., especially then.”

Our perp must be old then around forties and fifty’s, he thought looking at the file that Emily had put together which was impressive considering the short notice, but Emily had always been very organised.

“Okay, okay. So that means he should be easy to find, right? We have an age; all we now is the time of death. This is a small town we should be able to eliminate suspects easily when we figure that out.” Gary said.

Which made the man jump- he had completely forgot about Gary who had been sitting next to him in the drab police office all this time. He must have followed him from the car.

The man nodded and set down the case file. “We need to wait for the autopsy, though, before we start any eliminations.”

Emily nodded, adding into the conversation. “Steve said he would have the time of death down by tomorrow morning, as he is booked patient-wise for most of the arvo.”

So, all he could do would be to get some shut eye so he could focus all his energy on this case tomorrow.

Gary and Emily had seemed to come to the same conclusion.

“I’ll call you if anything happens.” Emily said. “So, go home and get some proper sleep, boys.”

Gary beamed. “Thanks, Em’.”

He nodded returning the sentiment, he turned and left.

Gary got into his own car and drove off, the steady bump, bump, bump of his broken motor announced his leaving. Before he was just out of earshot the man called. “Say hi to the kids for me, will you?”

Gary stuck his hand out to indicate that he would and continued to road down to where his wife and kids where probably having dinner.

He got into his own car, knowing he was going to be greeted with a quiet, lifeless house.

---

The next day he got the phone call that he needed to finally bring that boy’s family peace.

Ring-g! Ring! Ring-g!

He picked it up and clicked ‘Answer’.

“There’s another body.”

It felt like a punch in the gut he asked, breathless. “Who?”

“Emily.” Gary said, choking back sobs.

He came out from the city for a better life. A quiet life. He never thought that his friend would die, and he would be all too powerless to stop it. “How?”

Now he sounded like Max’s mother, asking desperate questions like that would bring him peace.

“Burned alive.”

Fresh tears, creating two streams all too similar to those that happened years ago. He touched his face, surprised at the sight of them What a sight that would have been; a grown man surprised that he was crying.

He felt just like a kid again, powerless, weak, gullible. Broken.

He kept on flashing back and forwards. Present to past to present to past.

Then suddenly all was clear, a blade of anger sliced through lasting wounds.

He was going to catch this bastard- if it were the last thing that he would do. If it broke him.

“Okay.” And he would be okay- once he caught him.

“Just to let you know, mate, the journos are here.”

The clock was ticking. He forced an expression of grim seriousness.

His game face, he thought with a bit of humour.

“I’ll be there soon.”

---

#short story #original writing #original content #oc #australia #young writer #weekly update #murder #cop

1 note · View note

snortyport · 4 years

Text

Trapped - JJK Chapter 2

Summary- Aftermath of the crash. Who made it and who didn’t?

Rating- PG

Word Count- 1752

Pairing- Jungkook x reader

Warning- swearing, mild gore (descriptions of injuries), minor character death

A/N- Thank you so much for the love you’ve shown me for the first chapter! Here’s chapter two! I hope you like it

Previous | Masterlist | Next

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

A shrill scream rips through the quiet of the morning, disturbing the morning birds’ songs and making them flutter away. You let out the breath you were holding, relieved that someone else made it.

“OH MY GOD,” a piercing cry rings out. You can’t tell who it is screaming aside from it being one of the girls. She starts to sob and weakly mumbles something you can’t hear.

You try to push yourself up but your arms scream at you and your vision swims. Come on, she needs me. Get up! You take a deep breath, grit your teeth, and push again. You yell out as the pain tries to consume you whole.

“Miss YLN?” a tiny voice says somewhere in the middle of the bus. Jeannie? That definitely sounded like Jeannie. Why am I saying this is my head?

“Jeannie?” I ask quietly.

“My arm really hurts,” she whispers, her voice thick with tears.

“Ok, um, just… just give me a minute ok?” you look around to see the damage. There’s glass everywhere, backpacks thrown around, papers strewn everywhere. You can see jean clad limbs tangled and the top of someone’s head. Their short, brown hair is all you can see but they’re not moving. I need to get up.

You slowly roll onto your stomach, the pain making you dizzy. You brace your hands on the steel on the bus and you push. You scream out again but you know you need to work past it. You need to check on the kids. You need to call for help. It is the worst push up you’ve ever had to do. Your arms burn in agony but finally you push yourself up enough to sit back on your knees.

Nothing seems to be broken, just very hurting. Very hurting? Maybe I’m more whacked out than I thought. You grip the end of the seat and with another deep breath, you push yourself to standing. You squeeze the seat tighter, dizziness and nausea gripping you tight.

Now that you’re standing you can see just how bad the wreckage is. Windows are broken, the bus walls are dented and caved in where the trees hit. Bodies lay scattered among the glass from the windows. Oh god is that blood? You turn your head away from the dripping red seat as another wave of nausea hits.

“Miss YLN…” It’s Lilly, that’s who screamed out. “Marissa…” Your stomach drops. She sounds devastated, completely broken. Please no…

You take a step toward the voice. “Lilly?” You take a peek at each seat, hoping and praying to everyone and everything you can think of, that everyone is ok. You pause before you get to the seats where Jeannie, Jamie, and Tanner were sitting. Jeannie was the only one that made a noise but maybe the boys just passed out or are in shock. Please.

You take a deep breath to steel your nerves and you take the step. Little Jeannie sits on her knees cradling her brothers head in her lap. One of her pigtails fell out and the hair falls limply down her chest. She’s got a cut on her forehead, blood slowly trickling down beside her left eye. You can see that her arm is red but for the most part she looks fine. Ok at least she’s ok for now.

Your eyes travel to the boy on her lap. His eyes are closed but you can see his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. You don’t notice any cuts or bruises. He’s breathing. Hopefully he doesn’t have any internal damage. But I have to keep going. I have to check everyone.

Your eyes roam to Tanner, who is sitting on his butt staring at Jamie. Must be in shock. Doesn’t seem to have any outer injuries. Keep moving.

“Tanner?” you ask cautiously. He slowly lifts his head to look at you.

“Jamie…” he mumbles, turning to stare at the unconscious boy . He swallows then moves his gaze back to you. “He hit the seat and then fell into me… I think he hit his head on the metal railing.”

“Ahh,” someone at the back groans. “What happened?”

“Will? Are you ok?” you call out.

“I feel like I was in a car crash, oh wait,” he says, sarcasm dripping from every word. “How do you think I feel?” he pops his head up from the seat and gets up. Deep breath. Being an ass might be how he copes.

“I meant, are you hurt anywhere? But I can see that you’re not,” you say, trying to keep your voice even. “What about everyone else? You’re the first person I’ve heard from back there.”

“Did the crash make you deaf too?” he reaches a hand down and a second later someone grabs it. He pulls Hayley up against him. You notice it’s more for her benefit than his as she’s standing with her weight on her right foot, her left slightly raised in the air. “They’ve been talking.” He juts his chin towards where he and Hayley stood up from. Three more heads poke up above the seat. A few cuts, Kyle’s nose is bleeding badly, but they don’t seem to be hurt too badly.

Deep breaths. Deeeep breaths. You’re a teacher, you can’t cuss a student out.

You ignore Will’s comment and ask, “Are you guys ok? Hayley is your ankle ok?” I nod towards her ankle.

“What part of ‘We were just in a car crash’ did you not understand?” Will says hotly. Hayley whacks him in the stomach with her arm.

“Shut up, Will. She’s just making sure we’re not seriously hurt,” she glares at him. Maybe they’ll be back off after this. “I’m fine, Miss YLN. I don’t think it’s broken but it does really hurt.”

“We’re fine too,” Graham answers for them. “Kyle got the worst of it but otherwise just a few cuts and some bruises.”

“Yeah I think I broke my nose on a seat when the bus fell,” Kyle says wiping at the blood dripping from his nose. That explains the blood I saw on the seat.

“Ok… ok good,”

“Good?” Will laughs incredulously, “What about this is good? Fucking Tom almost killed us—” a loud sob interrupts Will and everyone looks at each other.

“Who was that?” Adam asks.

“Lilly?” you ask out. You’re not totally sure where she ended up.

“Miss YLN,” Noah peeks his head up from between the two seats where Lilly and Marissa were sitting. He wears a grim expression, and, in that instant, everyone knows something is wrong. “You need to come here.”

Your feet suddenly feel like lead. You’re having trouble taking a step. I don’t want to see. Just let me live in this tiny bubble of everyone being fine. But you know you need to see. You’re the teacher, the adult, they need you and they need you to be ok.

Will and Hayley beat you there, both of them tensing up as they take in the scene. They stand there in shocked silence before Hayley turns around and starts gagging, the pain in her ankle completely forgotten. Will steps back and looks at you. All the colour in his face has drained, leaving him extremely pale. For once he doesn’t have anything to say which only scares you more. Graham, Adam, and Kyle look at each other worriedly.

You round the seat and your heart drops to the floor. This can’t be happening. You shift your gaze to Noah who is still sitting. His eyes are filled with unshed tears. You can see how hard he’s clenching his jaw trying not to cry. He has his arm wrapped around Lilly. She’s sobbing quietly on his chest, her hands balled into fists in his shirt.

You know why she screamed. You know why Noah looks so upset. Why Will had nothing to say, why Hayley is trying not to puke. I can’t do this. I wasn’t trained for this.

Your eyes move down to a rock that smashed the window, it’s rounded and it’s rough surface is coated in blood.

Marissa’s lifeless body lays beside it on her front, her body tossed off it in an unnatural position when the bus made it’s final crash. You can see the gash on the back of her head, angry and weeping blood. Her hair covers her face and is matted in blood. You bite your tongue in hopes of keeping whatever is in your stomach down.

“Is she?” you whisper, tearing you gaze to Noah. He nods quickly and looks down near your feet. What do I do? I’m only eight years older than the oldest kid. I’m not cut out for this. I’m a teacher not a crisis worker.

“Miss YLN?” Kyle utters faintly. Fuck. Get it together. They need you. Can’t lose your cool. Gotta be strong for them. I’ll get help and then I can break down once I’m alone and everything is taken care of.

“Um, uh, right,” you frantically look into everyone’s eyes. Pale faces and tear streaked faces stare back at you. I’m the adult. I can do this. “Someone call 911. We need help and they’ll help Marissa.” Why did I leave my phone in the staff room?

Five hands pat their pockets looking for their phones. Will pulls his out of his jeans pocket and sighs. He turns it to show you the dark, cracked screen, “Smashed.”

“Mine too,” Adam says, showing his broken phone as well.

“I don’t have service,” Hayley says, lifting her phone higher trying to get a bar.

“You should still be able to call 911 though,” Noah says. “For emergencies you can call 911 even if you have no service.”

“I’ll try,” she brings her phone back to normal level, dials, and brings the phone to her ear. Her face contorts into confusion. She pulls her phone away and puts it on speaker. A loud, flat beeping rings out from the speaker.

“What the hell is that?” Will asks, looking down at Noah.

“I’m not sure. That shouldn’t happen,” he responds.

“Anyone else’s phone not smashed?” you ask.

“Mine’s busted too,” Kyle shrugs and looks at Graham.

“Yeah, same,” Graham shakes his head.

Noah lets go of Lilly, who still has been silently crying on his shoulder, to check his pockets for his phone. He pulls it out and lets out a relieved breath. He taps his phone a couple times and holds it out for everyone to hear. “Let’s hope this works.”

Beep. Beep. Beeeeep.

#bts #bts imagine #bts jungkook #bts jk #jungkook #apocolyptic

6 notes · View notes

monsterywriting · 5 years

Text

Demon Boyfriend (Dirrath) - pt 7

AN: Finally finished the next part for Dirrath, and the next part should be up very soon. it’s took me a hot minute to get back into the groove of things with classes, but Dirrath is officially back!

word count: 1,947

You lay awake on your lavish bed in the dark, the sinking feeling that something wasn’t quite right preventing you from falling into the alcohol-induced slumber your body very much wanted to. However, you couldn’t exactly wander out of your room and hope to happen upon wherever Olek was.

You were beginning to regret not taking the king up on his offer of a tour of the castle. But, you reasoned, you could just ask in the morning, so you could definitely sleep right now.

Unfortunately, the gnawing worry about your captain prevented you from giving in to your exhaustion and you kicked off your covers and began to pace around the room.

Doing so in the dark proved to be a bad idea, though, as you almost immediately stub your toe on an indiscernible piece of furniture. After whispering a flame into all the lamps scattered across the room, you realized it was the table you’d noticed earlier, with the peaches.

Frowning, you took one from the basket and took a careful bite, your eyes widening at its sweet goodness. A strange thought began to form in your mind, slowly taking shape while you looked down at the fruit. A memory, really, of a certain demon sharing a snack with you what felt like ages ago.

Before you could dwell too long, however, you heard the distant sound of a door slamming shut. Your head whipped around to face your own door, sitting still as stone as you listened for any more sounds.

Your mind wandered back to the walk back to your room with the maids. There had been no knights posted in the east wing. While the logical side tried to reason that it could very well be a nightly patrol, you were struck by the fact that you were completely and utterly alone without your guards.

A sudden creak, sounding much closer this time, made your heart leap into your throat. The naive part of you wished desperately for it to be Olek, apologetic for leaving you but okay. That it definitely wasn’t some assassin coming to slit your throat in the night. Still, you scanned the room wildly, you saw your old clothes and armor neatly folded on a dresser.

Leaping to action, you pulled your sword out of its hilt and held it in front of you, the sound of footsteps becoming audible and moving down the corridor towards your room before stopping in front of your door. It was only then you realized you never locked the door, or put out the lamps.

Your blood turned to ice when the handle turned, the door swinging open and, standing there—

“Dirrath, you son of a bitch,” you gasped, your arms dropping back to your side, “You scared the shit out of me. What the hell are you doing here so late?”

Dirrath didn’t respond, shutting the door behind him. You went to grab your armor, too relieved to be mad at the demon. At least someone from your group was with you, even Dirrath.

“Olek still hasn’t turned up, so I wanted to go-,” you stopped short as you turned to look at Dirrath and realized he not only had his full armor on, but had his axe by his side.

Only then you began to question how exactly the demon found you. He certainly hadn’t been there when you were first shown the room.

The basket in the corner table caught your eye once again, the half-eaten peach forgotten beside it. Imported from the orcs up north. That’s where peaches grew, not Altruria.

You didn’t feel as much satisfaction at Dirrath’s betrayal as you thought you would when you raised a stink over his presence to the High Queen over a month ago. In fact, you felt somewhat disappointed, though that could have something to do with the fact that he was likely here specifically to kill you.

“You never truly worked for the High Queen, did you?” You turned your gaze back to the demon and stared right into his eyes.

“Well, don’t you have the upmost faith in your queen?” Dirrath replied with a wry smile, “but you actually aren’t wrong, princess, I was hired to kill you long before I made your queen think she summoned me.”

“I’m sorry I can’t bring myself to care about the intricacies of your planned assassination attempt,” you snapped, “just get on with what you came here to do, then.”

“Even in your final moments you never fail to surprise me,” Dirrath chuckled, gripping his axe tight and lifting it as he closed the distance between you.

“I hope you don’t regret your decision,” was your grim reply, standing straighter as you waited for the final blow.

Without warning, Dirrath raised his axe and brought it down on your shoulder with all his strength. However, rather than dig deep into your flesh, the axe bounced just as it cut your skin as though it hit stone, a small line of blood falling from the shallow wound.

The axe clattered on the floor and Dirrath fell to his knees with a mangled cry, your emblem on his armor flashing red hot for an instant and the smell of burning flesh filling your nostrils.

“If the High Queen had wanted me dead, she would have told you to take the armor off beforehand,” you stood over the demon as he ripped off the chest plate, a hole burned through his shirt and the skin over his heart raw with the brand of the emblem.

Dirrath sucked in a sharp breath as he touched the still sensitive skin before turning to glare up at you.

“What the hell is this?!” Dirrath roared, staggering to his feet, “I made certain there was no enchantment on this armor!”

“An unfinished curse,” you answered coldly, “The 3rd princess developed the concept decades ago for all the guards’ armors. Spilling my blood sealed it.”

“You cursed me?” Dirrath seethed, looking very much like a cornered animal.

“You aren’t bound to me or anything of the sort,” you sneered, “You simply can’t harm me, even without the armor, now.”

“I made a deal, I can’t just break that,” Dirrath looked honestly distressed, though you found it hard to sympathize when the issue revolved around you dying a bloody death in an unfamiliar castle, likely because of the very owners of said castle.

“I suppose its time to negotiate a new deal, then,” you sniffed, pulling your own armor over your head and beginning to buckle the straps.

“And why the hell would I want to make a deal with you?” Dirrath shook with rage, clutching his chest in pain.

“I’m sure whoever you did work for won’t take too kindly to you failing to kill me once morning arrives,” you scoffed, pointing at the door, “but by all means, feel free to go try and explain why you can’t finish the job.”

Dirrath snarled, standing over you in a clear attempt to intimidate you, though you continued to stand your ground, knowing you now had the upper hand.

“You know your way around the castle, clearly. I need you to take me to Olek and the others,” you continued quickly, “You need to escape just as badly as we do. You could go towards one of the bordering kingdoms, but we’re still closest to Altruria. You can ride with us to the border and go your separate way from there. We’ll never have to see each other again.”

Dirrath laughed, picking up his axe and turning towards the door, “Like you said, princess, I know the castle. It’ll be much easier to escape alone than with an entire foreign party parading down the main road.”

Your smile fell, your mind racing as you ran through your options before the demon left you behind, “If you go, then I’ll run out screaming about your assassination attempt. And you can’t stop me because of the mark. Will you be able to escape the castle with every knight here looking for you?”

That stopped Dirrath in his tracks before another laugh escaped him as he turned to you with a dark expression, “You don’t even know who hired me. You could very well be walking right into your death.”

You grinned, coming to a very important realization as you pulled the last buckle into place, “No, I wouldn’t. If the person was powerful enough, they would have just had any one of the knights kill me. Whoever it was needed an outsider to kill me because they don’t have the loyalty of the knights.”

“You wily bitch,” Dirrath growled, running a hand over his face in exasperation, “Fine! But after I take you to them you’re on your own. I won’t be slowed down by you lot.”

“Fine,” you grinned, holding out a hand for Dirrath to begrudgingly shake, “lead the way, then.”

...

The barracks were a set of four low buildings near the southern end of the castle.

“They’re in there,” Dirrath pointed to one of the buildings with light glowing underneath the door and turned to leave.

“Wait!” You hissed, grabbing the demon’s arm to keep him from slipping away, “you can’t leave until we make sure the deal is done.”

Dirrath rolled his eyes, dramatically throwing the door open. Garreth was the first to stand, sitting on the bed closest to the door. The entire guard was up and sitting around, staring at you in shock. However, you were too busy

“Where’s Olek?” You wasted no time asking, your eyes flitting over every face in the room.

“We haven’t seen him since we arrived, my Princess,” Garreth answered, looking very confused.

“We all thought he was with you, Princess” another guard, Freida, piped up, murmurs of agreement sounding from across the room.

“We have to go find him,” you turned back to Dirrath.

“Like hell we are,” Dirrath scoffed, “I brought you to the barracks, now I’m leaving.”

“What happened, Princess?” Garreth asked, glancing back and forth between you and Dirrath.

“Our deal was that you would help me find Olek and the others, Dirrath,” you shot back at the demon before turning to address your guard, “Go to the stables and ready the horses. We’re leaving this godforsaken castle tonight.”

The room filled with hushed whispers as everyone speculated what could have possibly happened, but Garreth bowed to you and ordered everyone to gather their belongings. As the room began to grow chaotic, you slipped out the door and started back towards the castle.

“The castle is huge, he could be anywhere,” Dirrath huffed as he followed you out of the building, “He could already be dead. You’re just risking both of us getting caught.”

“I do have magic, remember? I’m sure I can find him,” you continue marching forward.

“If you can find him why do I have to go?” Dirrath put a hand on your shoulder to stop you.

You rolled your eyes, “I can locate Olek, but I still don’t know the castle layout. Ergo, you need to navigate.”

“Well can you use your magic before we actually get inside the castle?” Dirrath frowned.

You nod, holding out both arms with your palms out towards the castle and close your eyes. You focus your thoughts on Olek, feeling out for any sign of him. In the darkness, you felt his presence, faint but there nonetheless. He was definitely in the castle, and alive.

“He’s in the northwest end of the castle” You tell Dirrath, “but he feels… down? Like he’s underground.”

“The dungeons,” Dirrath answered grimly, “I know how to get there.”

#Demon Boyfriend #reader insert #monster boyfriend #male monster #exophilia

105 notes · View notes

fnafartkit27x · 4 years

Photo

Disclaimer:Death and I guess torture

Better quality.

______________The Ice Faces An Grim Fate _______

He felt his arm bubble in agony the bear tried to move back as felt water starting to leak from his icey arm. Cringing as gritted his eight teeth against his jaw. Whimpering as tried to speak but his jaw has water running out of his mouth. Leaving him making pained gargle noises as couldn't speak well. An sharp jaw was clamped into his arm tightly. Cracking at his ice making him want to scream. The heat of the jaw making him cringe and hiss out. Kicking at the top of the jaw of the big over sized fire fox. Trying to get away. An sickle pinning his other arm to the maze ground. It around his arm the end dug into the dirt. Why did he think coming here was wise! He just wanted to meet the others. No one told him there was one made of fire! The bear didn't have much to think as the jaw pulled on his icey arm making him scream as it finally cracked ripping it out like nothing as his hand and arm melted in the crazed fox jaw. An sizzling noise echoing in his cracked ears. Deafing to him. Course the fox hissed at the water putting it's hand on his icey chest. The bear shook and shivered, as watched the other. Wanting it to stop! The dreaded grim fox put it's head down making all the water leak on the poor ice bear. It made the bear sicken. Feeling his body or what used to be his arm. Dripping all over him in liquid form. Frost cried in fear. Snow foaming out of his eyes. The feeling and pain of this made him want to scream and just go insane. He hates this. This was what he feared! Dying by something, being melted...cracked...all of his fears in one! The fox had all of it!

Whimpering and shuddering as felt the sickle move from his arm ,and began to be raised up. He watched it with wide eyes,as it swung down fast. Crack! Hitting him hard on the chest. Making the smaller bear cry out as his ice cracked. Cracks being formed as he hissed. The metal sizzling at touching his ice! Ears crackled as they lowered scared as pupils widen.Pained whines and cries came from him!

"Ye should know better to enter my maze! Friend or foe..no one gets out alive! "

The fox snared out putting it's dreaded muzzle in front of the terrorized icey bear face. Those firey eyes staring into frighten glowing blue highlighted white eyes. Frost whimpered out sorries wanting to go home. This being some mistake. Snow running down his face as it just melted from the other intense heat! He felt his muzzle start to deform at the hot metal of the muzzle against him. Making scared noises as hiccups. Not wanting to be near the fox anymore! His ears twitched as he groaned in pain. The heat of the sickel burning at his ice. The bear making noises of pain ,as listened with melting ears. Hearing the fox dreaded singing as got lifted up by the sickle.

It ripped through his chest like nothing as the ice bear let out an cry. His body being fragile as ice cracked. The sickel end hitting the back of his head. Eyes wide in horror and pain. Trying to shake it off trembling ,as he kicked and struggled. It hurt..it..hurt..so..badly. Moving his hand as it twitched. Being by the sickle it having water drip from it. Using his only hand to grab onto the sickle trying to pull out the dreaded hot piece of metal. Hissing at the pain. Not wanting to die! He just wanted to see his new friend not this. The fox didn't show any emotions at the smaller bear cries. Huffing out smoke as shook head irritated of the cries bringing the smaller bear closer as opened his jaw.

Frost pupils widen as knew what the other doing! It was gonna bite his head and melt it to pieces. He continued to kick. Using one hand to summon up an icicle, but it was deteriorating at fast pace. The heat was getting to him. Frost couldn't even summon an icicle anymore. He felt so weak from grim foxy intense heat. Watching the flames wisp off the fox with exhausted pained eyes. They were getting dull. So weak..but he still alive. Whimpering in agony ,as parts of him was already melting to pieces.

"Ye should be happy I'm ending your life about now. It would be more painful if I didn't show mercy."

The fox spoke to the small bear before lifting his sickle up. Moving the bear close to his jaw. Hearing the bear cries for help fell deaf in his metallic ears. Lunging out and closed his jaw on its small head. Showing no mercy! Steam coming from the bear as it screeched in pain. The holly on his hat sieged to flames like nothing. But as well most of his head. Water ran down the fox jaw. Making him look down leaving the bear hanging out as his body was almost nothing from his hot sickle! He felt the bear struggled in panic. Making him want to cackle in amusement. What An bilge rat thinking they can come in his maze!

An melting hand grabbed at the teeth as they tried to pry the jaw apart. He screamed in pain as It sizzles. It melting away with ease. More and more of him melted as he screamed rather loudly. No one heard...like the fox says nothing survives or comes out alive. The crows proved it as they surrounded the fox and bear in the trees. Expecting something to peck at as they cooed. Waiting for the fox to finish up. His eyes got hazy...it was getting hard to move or do anything. So..weak.....so...weak..tired....so..ti..

Cerulean ice melted as the bear pupils dulled more before vanishing. Till it finally nothing leaving them an void, as water ran down the fox jaw still. In the end all that was left of the ice bear was water on the maze ground and an burned up bow that had fallen off the bear when the bite was committed. Slipping off from the heated ice. It was slowly burning away as well to the fox flames. Leaving nothing. Nothing left of the ice bear. The fox huffed before going back to walking down his maze singing an dreaded song it always sang,as if nothing happened just now.

"Da da dum dum dum dum!"

No one goes in his maze! It was his territory! The ice bear was an rat to him. Pest that needed to be taken care of to be taken out! Grim made sure ones who walk in this maze will die of an grim fate. He cackled as continued to sing hearing the crows fly to the puddle of what was left of the bear.

"Dum Dum dum!"

The ice faced an grim fate. This made the fire fox move his jaw to an grin. Amused...very amused of the pest being ridden of his maze! Chucking darkly as sang. Sang his dreaded song.

_______________ __________________

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #freddy frostbear #grim foxy #bby frost im sorry #short story #fnaf help wanted #fnaf special delivery #i posted this on the wrong account say yay reentering things

12 notes · View notes

lostadrianda · 4 years

Text

The house of wolves

Part I

*версия на русском языке по ссылке:

https://ficbook.net/readfic/8551009

There are dark times. I thought that the death of my parents was the worst thing I would ever see in my life. But now it's so bad… I have to admit that it's worse.

Smoke from the fire rises into the sky, twisting and dragging sparks with it. An axe clatters, and a tree falls with a crunch, breaking neighboring branches. I have almost no life left in me. Almost nothing is inside. People are scurrying around. The camp is growing in front of our eyes, turning from a temporary to our permanent campsite. I look at it, trying to figure out what’s going on. I'm not used to being in camps. The detachments held out successfully for four years in the Dominiana, where we took over the houses, and everything went well. But recently we were forced out of those lands, and the Sly Fox moved all of us to the Islands. It seems to be logical decision. But on the Islands we are not welcome. We could have gone to the south to sparsely populated areas and stayed there. However, we did not do this. But why?

I was the only one who seemed to be asking questions. I don't know. I didn't have much contact with anyone from the camp. I glance at the people sitting next to me. Their faces are dry and earthy. Only the reddish glare of the fire is on them. And their eyes are fixed. You always had to keep in mind that those were wolves around you, not people. They look alike, they even show humanity from time to time. It's all a lie. And if there is any kindness in someone, it will soon be beaten out of them. It's the only way around here. I am among the enemy, I am in their ranks. I help put up new tents. But I have a feeling that I will soon be finished with. It's about time. But the Sly Fox keeps stalling. I think he understands how much this torments me. That's why he keeps me close to him. He's not stupid, no. Therefore, his decisions are not discussed.

It's funny that the Fox has committed so many crimes, but if somebody asks to show the main bastard, everyone will point the finger at me. I betrayed my family. Not native, adopted. Yes, they are all dead now, too. I guess my life didn't work out. But I didn't betray anyone. When the door was kicked in and twenty men entered with the Fox at their head, it was all over. There was nothing I could do about it, no matter how much I think about it. I pretended that I always hated my new parents. And I joined the side of the enemy. I should have given my sister time to escape. I didn't expect much more. I didn't think about anything. I didn't think I'd have to break into houses like this with the others. That now I will always hear the sound of those black boots wherever I go. I didn't think I'd have to run around in the woods. I didn’t know I'd be stuck with them for five years. I thought they would kill me that night, in the same house, as soon as they realized what I had done. But they did not understand or pretended not to understand. They still look askance. And I'm not allowed to be absolutely free. The Sly Fox sometimes calls me, asks questions, and I answer, but I keep waiting for the punishment to come. And he lets me go. During all this time, not a single suspicion was expressed. And he's smart. And there is nothing left for me, I am in his hands, always in his sight, even if he is watching me with a hundred other people's eyes, wolf eyes. He is always somewhere above me, behind me. All the time my life is suspended, and I know it.

My only hope is that my sister will return. I have nothing else left. Everything is so empty. And I’m doing something wrong. I close my eyes so that I don't see anything, so that I don't understand what is happening to me. Because as soon as I start thinking, it turns me inside out. When I forget myself, I gather wood for a fire, go with others and scout the area around the camp, draw some maps. And everything seems to be as it should be. I make an obedient and silent employee, everyone is happy, I do not interfere with anyone. The whole body shakes, as if with a strong chill, and no fire warms. So something inside is resisting. It remembers, and remembers well, that the Sly Fox is the enemy. That he killed a lot of people. But he's good, he's built everything right. He's got an army of about three thousand men, and they all look at him and catch every word. Only one person I've ever known, only one person in my entire life, could stand up to him. And this is my sister. Isn’t it funny, huh? As I remember her, thin, fragile, as I look at the Fox… I can't believe it. But that’s true. Her playful dark eyes flashed with such power sometimes that I was willing to believe that she would overcome anyone. And every time I look at the Fox, I always look at the scar on his cheek. My sister left this for him as a souvenir.

But I haven't heard from her in five years. It's too long to wait, you know? A person waits, waits for a week, a month, maybe a year… And then begins to live, throwing a veil of oblivion over the past. Only I never started again. The air balloon ends sooner or later, you know? And I'm still trying to grab the mask and breathe, breathe. Nothing is inside. In the camp, when people talk about her, all they say is that she must have been dead for a long time. I wished they say something else, even nonsense. Nooo. There are no other options in anyone's mind. Only my brains resist. Things can't be that bad. No matter how much life beats me, I won't believe it. It can't be that bad.

Smoke from the fire gets in my nose. It's getting colder, the earth is blowing in autumn, and the leaves are not the same as before. I rub my flushed hands together. The Islands don't like us. We are like an ulcer on their body. We tried to move deeper into the mountains and fortify ourselves. Fifty of our men were killed in two days. A couple of detachments remained in the dense forests at the foot of the mountain, while the rest were scattered along the coasts hiding. We choose places so that we are not found for as long as possible. And it’s strange that the Fox ordered us to fortify ourselves here. But let hell be with it.

The sky has been cloudy all the time we've been here. Today, for the first time, I see the sun shining. Even now you can't see the sky — it's all white, with darker clouds floating across it. The horizon is dark-blue, grim, colliding with an even darker, colder sea. I look into the distance and for the first time I think that my sister must be dead. It scares so much. It's like I'm no longer a human being and I'm becoming a wolf, like all those people around me. That’s really scary. For some reason everything turns to be meaningless. No, I won't give them my soul. They took everything from me, but they won't get it. I will believe till the end. I will resist until I lose my mind. Why am I sitting now here with them, as if I really took their side?

It makes me feel sick. I kept hiding in their ranks and waiting for my sister to break out. Five years have passed. Time flies quickly, terribly, the further away, the more ghostly. I forget how it all happened, I forget why it happened, I forget what a mistake we made. I still think that I did everything right. I acted as I should. As well as I could. But for some reason, it all turned out to be really bad.

If I am the only one left here, who is still fighting, who still remembers that there were better, brighter times, if my sister is dead, and no one is fighting without her, isn't it time for me to get up? Isn't it time to remember who I was and how I was brought up, and what was on my mind before I got bogged down in this mire? I'm biting my lip nervously, they are already looking at me with suspicion.

What a coward I have become! Just thinking makes my temples sweat. I’m used to waiting for a miracle, but as soon as I imagined that I had to act myself, I shrank from fear and wanted to hide away. If only they didn't touch me, if only, if only... I did not to experience new horrors. You don't like me, do you? Despise? Look at me, all that is left of me is my skin, hanging on my bones! These wolves, damn them, have broken me so badly that none of my old friends would recognize me. But what good are these friends: they're either dead or they're first in line to take my head off.

I stand up from the log I've been sitting on all this time and feel my legs go numb. They are frozen to the bones. I stand still to stretch them a little. The two men sitting next to me look at me lazily.

— Where are you going? – Their cracked lips move, yellow teeth appear in between them. Those men probably don't like camp life either. And how long this will continue, no one knows.

— I'll go up to the river. There's one place I don't understand, I want to look at it.

— Don't run into anyone. We don't need you to bring the villagers here.

I nod. I don't get into fights, I don't get involved. Everything I have inside, I keep inside, and it’s a habit that has covered me like armor. I walk past the tents, from campfire to campfire, and turn onto the path that leads higher. I climb up and look back. Lights, trampled paths, people. I'm sick to death of such views. The further away from them, the better it is. I know I'll be back anyway. It's sickening. But the closer I get to them, the more I can learn about the outside world. I'm still waiting for news. At least one piece of news about my sister would be great. No one else will tell me. Only sitting by the fire I learn something new. Everyone in the outside world that I strive for hates me so much that they won't hesitate when they see me. They’ll kill me instantly. Here in the squads, I'm just one of hundreds. To the outside world, I stand in one line with the Fox. And he is happy for this — to keep a traitorous son and show everyone that even I recognized his power.

#story #story time #writer #writing #writing in quarantine #writings #writing inspiration #writers on tumblr #writers #writblr #house of wolves #part #dark #darkness #feelings

2 notes · View notes

broomballkraken · 5 years

Link

Title: The Apothecary and The Dancer, Chapter 9: A Dancer’s Faith

Fandom: Octopath Traveler

Pairing: Alfyn/Primrose

Word count: 5006

Warnings: None

Summary: He was very good at healing physical wounds, but he was not well versed in healing emotional ones. But that would not stop him from trying, for her sake.

With the cool mountains of the Highland wilds behind her, Primrose entered the town of Everhold. Surrounded by her seven companions, Primrose’s eyes blazed with determination as she steeled her mind for what she was about to do. One hand clenched into a fist, while the other instinctively went to her dagger, a habit that she would be all too happy to break after she had her revenge. It was so close now, and she was practically shaking with anticipation. Simeon would pay for everything that he had done to her. She would make damn sure of that.

A soft, gentle hand covered her clenched fist, snapping her out of her dark thoughts as she looked up at Alfyn’s smiling face. Primrose forced herself to smile back as she unclenched her fist and took his hand, entwining their fingers together.

“Prim, you know you don’t have to fake a smile for me.” Alfyn said softly, giving her now shaking hand a comforting squeeze. She nodded slowly, the smile indeed falling from her face, replaced by a grim frown.

“I...Thank you, Alfyn.” Primrose said, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “I am...just too used to hiding my real emotions. It will take me awhile to break all of those habits from my days in Sunshade.” Primrose averted her gaze and worried her bottom lip between her teeth, but she looked back up when Alfyn tugged gently on her arm. She let herself be pulled into his warm, tender embrace, and Primrose was reminded that she always felt the safest when Alfyn’s arms were wrapped securely around her.

“It’s okay. I’m here for you.” Alfyn whispered in her ear, and a genuine smile crossed Primrose’s face as she buried her face into his chest, her hands clinging to his back as he continued to hold her. He rubbed his hands gently over her back, and Primrose sighed deeply as some of the tension plaguing her melted away. Alfyn truly was the most wonderful man that she had ever met.

“If you two are done with, uh, whatever you call that, we should probably get going and find this Simeon guy.”

Alfyn and Primrose regretfully pulled away from each other to find Tressa watching them, a sly grin on her face that caused Primrose to blush and turn away.

“Ah, right. Let’s go.” Primrose said quickly, glancing at Alfyn to find that his face had gone completely red, and she giggled as she grabbed his hand again. He rubbed the back of his head bashfully with his free hand and they both followed Tressa to catch up with the rest of the group.

After inquiring about Simeon’s whereabouts with some of the townspeople, the group of travelers found themselves at the top of a set of stairs, leading to a bridge that crossed over to a looming amphitheater. Primrose’s eyes narrowed into a glare as she pictured Simeon’s sinister grin, and her jaw clenched when his maniacal laughter echoed in her mind.

“So this is the stage for the final act…” Primrose mumbled to herself, her eyes taking in the sight of the massive structure. She would have thought it was beautiful, but knowing who was waiting for her inside dulled her impression of the building.

“We wilst haven to be careful.” H’aanit said, leaning down to pet Linde’s head, as the snow leopard had started growling loudly, “I hath a bad feeling about this place.”

“Indeed.” Olberic said, nodding in agreement. “This is Simeon’s turf, and I am certain that he will use that to his advantage.” Primrose swallowed thickly as she nodded, a nervous tightness forming in her chest. She would not lose to that bastard of a man. She could not.

“Don’t worry, Prim.” Alfyn said, his hand falling to rest on her shoulder. She looked up to find a confident grin on his face, and that eased her mind a bit. “If we all work together, there’s no way he can beat us!”

“Yeah! We’ll make him pay for what he did to you!” Tressa exclaimed, her eyes narrowing as she gripped the straps of her backpack tightly.

“Now, now, calm down you two,” Cyrus chimed in, shaking his head. “We cannot just rush in haphazardly. I fear we would be playing right into his hands.”

“Tch, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you Cyrus?” Therion said, rolling his eyes as Cyrus laughed sheepishly and rubbed at his neck.

“If you are referring to that business in Stoneguard, that was just...bad luck.”

“Just remember, Primrose,” Ophilia said, ignoring Cyrus and Therion’s banter, “we’ll be by your side the entire time, so you will not be alone.”

“I...thank you, everyone. I’m very glad that I met you all, and that we’ve become such close friends.” Primrose said, her heart swelling with happiness as her seven friends smiled at her. Her gaze moved to the amphitheater and her eyes narrowed. She was ready for this, she had to be. And, most importantly, she was not alone. Having her friends by her side gave her all the courage that she needed to finally avenge her father’s murder.

“Let’s go finish this. Together.” Primrose said, and with that, she rushed in to face whatever fate had in store for her, alongside all of her most treasured friends, and the man that she loved most in the world.

Alfyn could barely contain his anger as he, along with the rest of the group, listened to Simeon and Primrose exchange heated words. In all his days, Alfyn had never met such a cold-hearted, despicable, and downright evil man. Sure, Miguel had been a murderer and a thief, but Simeon was worse in Alfyn’s opinion, due to his sick obsession with Primrose’s misery that he himself had caused. His grip tightened on his ax, and he found himself thinking that he had never wanted to hurt someone so badly before, and that scared him slightly.

“Prepare to die, Simeon.” Primrose said, venom dripping from her words as her grip tightened even more on Alfyn’s hand, but he hardly noticed. All he could think about was what an awful bastard this guy was, and Alfyn would be sure to make him pay for hurting Primrose, both mentally and physically. Not just because he loved her, but because Primrose had done nothing to deserve such pain and suffering.

“Bastard…” Alfyn growled quietly through grit teeth, as he watched the beginning of Simeon’s twisted play along with the rest of his friends. Was this...about Primrose’s life? His theory was all but confirmed when Primrose squeezed his hand so tightly that it hurt, and when he glanced over at her, her eyes were wide, her face was pale, and she was biting her quivering lip to try and hold back the tears that were pooling in the corners of her eyes. Primrose’s eyes suddenly narrowed and she took a step backwards, her hand slipping from Alfyn’s as she turned to address the group.

“Come, we must not become distracted,” she said, her tone calm and even as she held her head high. The sight took Alfyn’s breath away, and he smiled as he tightened his grip on his ax. They decided it would be best to split into two groups to try and corner Simeon by taking both paths through the amphitheater. Olberic, Tressa, Therion, and Ophilia took the right path, while Primrose, Alfyn, Cyrus, and H’aanit took the left.

“Amazing! To think that this used to be an old castle. Whoever did the renovating for the theater did a remarkable job…” Cyrus said as he gazed around curiously.

“Primrose juste said to not getteth distracted, Cyrus.” H’aanit said, narrowing her eyes as Cyrus chuckled sheepishly and fiddled with his collar.

“Er, right. Apologies.” he said as he and H’aanit walked on ahead. Alfyn stopped when he noticed that Primrose had paused, moving into a nearby vomitorium, and was watching the next part of the play, her face unreadable. Alfyn silently moved to stand beside her, and she reached out to take his hand. Her own was trembling, and he entwined their fingers as he used his other hand to rub the back of hers gently.

“You alright, Prim?” Alfyn asked softly, although he probably already knew the answer to that question. Primrose was silent for a moment, her eyes locked onto the stage as the scene came to an end.

“...Yes, sorry.” was her quiet response, and Alfyn frowned when she did not meet his gaze. His free hand went to cup her cheek, and he gently moved her head so that she was looking him in the eyes. He saw the pain that she was trying to mask behind a look of indifference, and his heart clenched at the sight.

“Shucks, Primrose…You’re always chargin’ forward with a full head of steam.” Alfyn said, “Just starin’ straight at the goal in front of you. I just...well, make sure you stop and take a breather sometimes, okay? I know it’s hard when this bastard Simeon is playing with your emotions but…” Alfyn trailed off when Primrose squeezed his hand and pulled him forward into a hug.

“Perhaps you’re right.” she said, her hands gripping tightly at the back of his shirt. She then pulled away and turned to head back the way she came. “There, done. Let’s go.” She glanced over her shoulder, and the small smile on her face made Alfyn’s heart soar, and he smiled back, gently squeezing her hand that he was still holding.

“Right behind ya!” he said. Off they went to regroup with H’aanit and Cyrus, and then to confront the source of Primrose’s pain and misery, to silence him for good.

With the rest of their friends preoccupied with fighting off Simeon’s animated marionettes, Primrose finally confronted Simeon, with Alfyn right at her side. Anger blazed in her eyes as she stood across from the man who ruined her life, her hand gripping her dagger so hard that her knuckles had turned white.

“Ah, Primrose,” Simeon said, a sinister grin crossing his face, “You’re life was a beautiful tragedy the moment you were brought into this world. Surely you-”

“Alright, that’s enough!” Primrose’s eyes widened as she turned to look at Alfyn. The angriest glare she’d ever seen on his face was aimed at Simeon as he thrust his ax in his direction. “I won’t let you torment Primrose any longer, you bastard!”

“And who is this now? Have you taken on a new lover, Primrose? He seems a bit...lowborn for you.” Simeon said, and Primrose grit her teeth as she placed herself between him and Alfyn.

“He has nothing to do with this. This is between you and me.”

“Oh, no, he has everything to do with this. Such a delightful turn of events. How should the next act of your miserable life play out now?” Simeon mused, his eyes drifting between Alfyn and Primrose. “Should I kill you in front of your lover, so you can listen to his anguished screams as your life fades away?” Primrose’s stomach dropped as her face paled at the horrifying thought.

“Or,” Simeon continued, laughing as Primrose began visibly shaking, “should I kill your lover here, and watch as the last sliver of happiness leaves your eyes, and renders you a completely empty shell of a human being, devoid of all of the good things that life has to offer you-”

“ENOUGH!”

Primrose inhaled sharply as Alfyn stepped in front of her, eyes wide as she watched him. She had never seen him this angry, not even when he found out what Vanessa had done to Goldshore, or even when Miguel had abused his kindness and kidnapped that child in Saintsbridge.

“You’re nothing but a monster in human form!” Alfyn snarled, “Taking such pleasure in someone else's pain and suffering is unforgivable! Especially since you caused it all!” Alfyn took a step forward, slashing his ax in front of him as Primrose could only watch in stunned silence.

“I’ll say it again: I won’t let you hurt Primrose any more. You won’t be killing me or her today. It’s you who’ll be dead by the end of this!”

“Well, well, you certainly fell in love with a feisty one, my dear Primrose. Unfortunately for the both of you, I am a very jealous man, and I cannot just overlook this common piece of filth attempting to steal you away from me.” Simeon said, casually waving his hand in front of him. Two marionettes appeared at his side, bearing striking resemblances to people that Primrose would rather not think about at this very moment.

“She was never yours, bastard!” Alfyn yelled, his face red with anger, “You don’t deserve someone as kind and selfless and-” Alfyn stopped when Primrose placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he lowered his ax slightly as she stepped in front of him, her eyes narrowed into a glare as she turned her attention back to Simeon.

“Ah, Primrose. Are you ready to have your revenge? What would your father think?” Simeon taunted, lazily twirling a finger in his long silver hair.

“My father is dead.” Primrose said plainly, her expression blank. She closed her eyes for a moment, the events of her past leading up to this moment flashing behind her eyelids. It was a hard life she had lived up until now, but recently there were good memories to look back on. Her adventures with her eight most recent friends played in her mind as well, with Alfyn’s smiling face at the forefront. Yes, she would end this, and she would find her happiness at last. “He would understand, and this will be the end of it. When I plunge this dagger into your breast, it will all be over. I will finish this.” She heard Alfyn move to stand beside her, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw that H’aanit and Cyrus had finally made it passed Simeon’s other lackeys and they came to stand beside her and Alfyn.

“Ah, perfect…” Simeon said, sighing dramatically as he waved his arms in front of him, “That heated look in your eyes...yes, this is the girl I fell in love with all those years ago…” Primrose heard Alfyn scoff loudly beside her, and she reached over to gently take his hand, which he held firmly.

“Come to me, Primrose! Let’s bring this beautiful tragedy to a close!” Simeon said. With that, his marionettes charged forward, and Primrose let out a yell as she moved to meet them, with Alfyn, Cyrus, and H’aanit following close behind. She knew that they would prevail, for her faith in her friends, and in the man that she loved, would be her shield.

Simeon was dead. It was finally over. Primrose took a few steps backward, her bloody dagger falling from her hand, and the clattering sound of the blade hitting the floor was oddly deafening. She suddenly started shaking, her breaths quick and short, and her legs turned to jelly as they gave out from under her. Before her knees could hit the floor, however, a pair of strong, warm hands caught her, as they had many, many times before.

“Primrose…” Alfyn’s soft voice hit her ears as he slowly lowered the both of them to the floor. Primrose gulped and slowly lifted her gaze to his face, his eyes filled with concern, care, and...love. She took in a deep breath and, like a dam bursting after a flood, she broke down sobbing as all of her pent up emotions rushed to the surface all at once. She buried her face into Alfyn’s chest, quickly soaking the front of his shirt with her tears. His strong, warm arms wrapped around her, one hand rubbing soothing circles over her back, while the other moved to the back of her neck to gently support her head.

“I’ve got you Prim. I’ve got you.” Alfyn whispered in her ear as he continued to hold her, patiently letting her cry out her overwhelming feelings. He could not begin to fathom how many conflicting emotions she was feeling right now, but he could be a source of comfort, and that’s what he would be, as long as she needed him. It was the least he could do for the woman that he loved more than anyone else in the world.

The room was silent for a few long minutes as Primrose continued to cry against Alfyn’s chest. It seemed that the rest of their friends had left the room, giving them some much appreciated privacy. Alfyn made a mental note to thank all of them for that later. He noticed that Primrose’s sobs had slowed, and they eventually ceased altogether. She took in a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly, and she finally lifted her head from his chest to look him in the eyes.

“Alfyn…” Primrose choked out, her throat sore from her crying. He smiled softly down at her, and she sighed deeply and closed her eyes as he cupped her cheek, brushing away the tears that were still left on her face. His other hand moved to push a few stray hairs out of her face.

“You did it, Prim. You finally avenged your father.” Alfyn said, “You’ve been so strong all this time, and I know I’ve only known you for a short time, but I’m proud of you, and I think your father is proud of you too.” Alfyn’s heart soared when Primrose laughed weakly, a few stray tears falling down her cheeks that he quickly brushed away for her. Her smile was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen, by a long shot. He hoped that he would get to see it more often now.

“Thank you, for everything you’ve done for me.” Primrose said, reaching up to place her hand over one of Alfyn’s that still covered her cheek. She felt...lighter. Like a heavy stone that had been crushing her chest had finally been lifted off of her. She was free of her most daunting burden, and she could finally look forward to her future, instead of being consumed by her past.

“It’s gotta feel good, right? Now your heart is free from all of that pain! I’m happy for you.” Alfyn said as he beamed at her. Primrose blinked at him, her hand moving to rest on her chest over her heart. ‘Clear your heart of that burden, and then be honest about your feelings for Alfyn.’ Olberic’s words of advice echoed in her mind, and she smiled softly, removing her hand from her chest and instead placing it on Alfyn’s.

“Yes...my heart is finally free,” Primrose whispered, her other hand moving to cup Alfyn’s cheek. “Free to give to whoever I choose.” She giggled when Alfyn’s face flushed a bright red, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he tried to think of a response.

“I, uh...well, yeah.” Alfyn said, stumbling over his words, “W-Whoever you give it two will for sure be the luckiest person in the world-” Primrose rolled her eyes, and decided to stop Alfyn’s rambling in the best way she could think of: by leaning up and pressing her lips to his in a soft, yet tender kiss.

Alfyn’s heart leapt into his throat when Primrose’s soft, beautiful lips pressed against his, and he watched as her eyes slowly slipped shut. He froze for a moment to make sure that this was indeed happening and not just a cruel, cruel dream. When he decided that this was real, he smiled against Primrose’s lips and wrapped his arms around her, one hand moving to the small of her back while the other settled in the loose hair at the back of her neck. Gods, he thought that the first kiss that he shared with Primrose was wonderful, but this was on a whole other level. The happiness he felt was overwhelming, and tears begin to prick at the corners of his eyes.

Primrose snaked her arms around Alfyn’s neck, pulling him even closer as their lips melded together. It had been a long, long time since she had been this happy, and felt so wanted. That was all before she had met Alfyn and fallen hopelessly in love with him. She felt now that she could finally express those feelings, without having her dark past plaguing her heart. Her eyes cracked open when she felt moisture hit her lips, and she broke the kiss when the taste of salt hit her tongue.

“Alfyn, why are you crying? I am that bad of a kisser?” Primrose teased, giggling when his eyes widened and he quickly shook his head.

“Oh, gods no, Prim!” Alfyn blurted out, blushing as Primrose smirked and reached up to wipe his tears away. “I’m just...so happy. I’ve kept my true feelings for you bottled up for so long, and to finally kiss you properly...Well, gods, it’s just kind of overwhelming I guess.”

“And what are these true feelings, hm?” Primrose asked, though she already knew the answer. Alfyn smiled fondly at her and reached up to cup her cheek as he rest his forehead against hers.

“Love. I love you, Primrose.” Alfyn said softly, and it was Primrose’s eyes that welled up with tears this time. “I’ve...never felt this way about someone before. You’re just so kind and beautiful and strong and amazing in every possible way. I couldn’t help but fall head-over-heels for you.”

“Oh, Alfyn…” Primrose sniffed as a few tears fell down her face, and Alfyn brushed them away, placing gentle kisses on each of her cheeks afterward, “You are truly the most wonderful man that I’ve ever met. I...know that I was wary of you at first, and I may have treated you a bit coldly.”

“Aw, don’t worry about that. I know you were treated pretty badly by men before…”

“Even so, you were one of the few that treated me well from the start. When you offered to take care of my wounded foot, I was wary, for the awful men that I encountered in Sunshade always had ulterior motives. When you asked for nothing in return, I was...confused to be honest.”

“It’s fine, Prim.” Alfyn said, taking her hands in his and giving them a gentle squeeze. “I was just doing my job as an apothecary, and as a friend.” Primrose chuckled and leaned forward to give Alfyn a quick kiss, and she paused when she pulled away to watch as Alfyn’s entire face lit up.

“And I am grateful for that. I think after that I slowly started falling in love with you, even if I didn’t fully realize the depths of my feelings at first. I just…didn’t think you could ever love someone as broken as me. And I didn’t want to give you a heart so tainted by my past.”

“Wait, you mean…?” Alfyn breathed, eyes wide and jaw falling open in disbelief. Primrose laughed and reached up to push his jaw shut, her hand lingering to cup his cheek. Right, she hadn’t expressed her true feelings yet.

“Yes. I love you too, Alfyn.” Primrose said. She was startled when Alfyn let out an excited ‘whoop’ and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Shucks! You mean it, Prim?” Alfyn said, pulling away with a toothy grin on his face. Primrose laughed and brushed a hand over the hair on the side of his head.

“Of course, Alfyn. I would never joke about something like this. Is it really that unbelievable that I love such a handsome, wonderful man like you?” Primrose teased, and Alfyn blushed and averted his gaze bashfully.

“Wow, I just always thought you were way out of my league. Didn’t think you’d ever fall for a poor, country bumpkin apothecary like me.”

“Well, if it was any other poor, country bumpkin apothecary, then probably not. But you are a very special man, Alfyn. It only seemed natural to fall in love with you.”

“Ah, gosh, you’re making me blush.”

“Oh? It’s cute, so maybe I should keep teasing you.”

Laughter echoed throughout the room as Alfyn and Primrose kissed yet again, tender and soft and filled with their immense love for each other. Wrapped tightly in each other’s embrace, they both secretly wished that this moment would never end. It just seemed too perfect.

“Hey guys! We’re happy for you and all, but we really don’t want to be here all day!”

Regretfully pulling away from each other, Primrose and Alfyn looked over to find Tressa poking her head in the room, a mischievous eyebrow raised and a knowing smile on her face.

“Er, right.” Alfyn said, his face flushing a bright red as he cleared his throat and stood, offering Primrose his hand. She giggled and took it, letting him pull her to her feet. When Tressa retreated from the room, Primrose stole another kiss from Alfyn’s lips as she entwined her fingers with his.

“Well, shall we head for the tavern, my dear Alfyn? We have much to celebrate after all.” Primrose laughed when Alfyn nodded eagerly as they walked towards the door.

“Yeah! All this excitement has got me mighty thirsty.”

“You always seem to be thirsty.”

“Only when there’s good ale to drink!” Alfyn winked as Primrose rolled her eyes, and they were all smiles as they went to reunite with their friends, hand-in-hand and with hearts filled to burst with the love that they held for each other.

After a late night of drinking and merriment, the group of eight travelers were ready to set out again by midday the next morning, once the many hangovers had been treated of course. Primrose stood at the edge of town, waiting as Alfyn caught up to her, his hands shuffling around in his satchel as he mumbled to himself.

“Alright...It looks like everything I need is here and ready to go…” he was saying when he stopped in front of Primrose. “Ah, Prim, are you sure you’re okay with not going back to Noblecourt right away? I’m sure the others would understand if you-”

“It’s fine, Alfyn.” Primrose interrupted, chuckling as she took his hand. “My father’s grave will be there whenever I choose to go back. Besides, Olberic and H’aanit still need help with their quests, and I promised to be with everyone until the end.”

“Alright, if you’re sure.” Alfyn said, smiling fondly as he lifted Primrose’s hand to his face and placed a light kiss on her knuckles. “It’s actually good that we’ll be heading to the Riverlands, ‘cause I heard quite the piece of gossip from the apothecary here.”

“Oh?”

“Apparently there’s a sickness plaguing the town of Orewell, in the Cliftlands. Was thinking we could swing by there after we help Olberic and see if I can do anything to help out there.”

Primrose smiled fondly at Alfyn, her heart swelling with pride. She really had fallen in love with a selfless, kind man, and she was happy that she did not have to keep her feelings a secret any longer. She leaned up and placed a kiss on Alfyn’s lips, and she giggled at the goofy smile on his face when she pulled away.

“Shucks, Prim, I reckon I’ll never get used to you just randomly kissing me like that. I feel super warm and giddy inside.” Alfyn said as they started walking down the road to catch up with the rest of the group.

“You’re so cute and innocent, Alfyn. It’s rather adorable.” Primrose said, and she giggled when Alfyn’s face scrunched up and he looked away.

“C’mon, you make me sound like a kid or something…” he grumbled, and Primrose grinned as she slipped her arm behind his back, while his automatically fell to rest over her shoulders.

“Sorry, dear. You’re just too fun to tease.”

“I guess…”

“Mmm, I’ll find some way to make it up to you later.” Primrose leaned up to kiss him on the cheek, and she lightly caressed his waist. Alfyn shivered under the touch, his face turning beet red as he sputtered.

“U-Uh, I mean...that’s, uh…” he said, and Primrose made a mental note of how easy it was to completely fluster him. Oh, this was going to be fun…

“Ugh, get a room already!” Therion said as he came up behind Alfyn and Primrose. “Do we really have to put up with this for the rest of our trip?”

“Oh, Therion,” Primrose said, chuckling as Alfyn just looked away in response, “no need to be jealous. Why, if you just told a certain someone how you feel about them, you could enjoy the same-”

“Never mind!” Therion said quickly, muttering to himself as he quickened his pace to get as far ahead of Primrose as possible. Alfyn shared a glance with Primrose and they both burst out laughing.

“You’re something else, Prim.” Alfyn said, squeezing her shoulder as their laughter died down.

“I do hope that’s a good thing.” Primrose teased.

“Of course it is! I only ever have good things to say about you!”

“Ugh, you are so sickeningly sweet, Alfyn.”

“Aw, I know you like it though, darling.”

Alfyn and Primrose laughed as they resumed their journey, not just the one that they were continuing with their friends, but the one that they had just begun, as lovers.

#octopath traveler #alfprim #alfyn greengrass #primrose azelhart #alfyn/primrose #yes hello i am so sorry this took so long to write lmao #fanfiction #jade writes fanfiction

6 notes · View notes

smartcookie727 · 6 years

Text

Precious Time

Hello, my darlings. Are you ready for a fun twist on my usual work? I bet you are. This fic has all the patented cookie charm, wit, and heat, but focuses on an OTP I haven’t written before. Jerza. I’ve shipped them for quite a while, and when a steamy sketch from Mashima kept floating around my dash, I knew it was finally time to stretch my fingers and give them a try. This fic is especially dedicated to @xambedo, who loves some good Jerza and is always there to support my endeavors. Her Jerza ficlets always light up my heart and remind me that I love these two dorks so much, even though I may not show it much. Let me remind you...this gets a bit NSFW ;) I hope yall enjoy. As always, leave me a comment, reblog, tag, whatever you want to interact so I know what yall like.

Pairing: Jerza

Prompt: The Final Night

Length: 3k

It’s their last night together, and Jellal wants nothing more than for her to stay. But Erza knows her time is already gone. Their hearts waver between pleasure and grief as they try to forget their pain with the taste of passion. Time is precious, and there’s no reason to spoil a beautiful night with tears.

Precious Time

Jellal stepped out of the bathroom door and forgot every clever word he knew in a single breath. The last few days had felt like a dream, and once again, he found himself staring, mesmerized by the grace of his long distance love across the room. Erza sat perched in front of a large mirror, running a brush through hair that sparkled with drops a of scarlet sunset. There was a quiet peace that soothed his heart in these moments. He could stand back and admire the woman beneath the armor. No council, no guilds, no dark wizards, no burden that came with their names. Titania. Prisoner. Those titles were shed at the door, and they could be Erza and Jellal for a brief time. He would stretch this moment into eternity if he had the power—he’d do anything to preserve her smile.

“You’re staring again, Jellal,” came a lilting voice, shaking him from his thoughts. He looked up, eyes meeting hers in the glass.

“Yes, but have you noticed how long?” he retorted playfully.

“Since you got out of the bath about three minutes ago,” she countered.

“Always observant, Erza, but I can’t help myself sometimes. Everything about you is mesmerizing—especially with your hair like that. Scarlet has always been my favorite.”

Erza stood and turned to face him properly, flashing a devious smile. Jellal’s pulse pounded in his head. The way she’d sauntered across the room had made his mouth go dry. Erza stepped close enough for her chest to brush against his own. Biting back a gulp, he tried to hide the blush that burned his cheeks. But it was no use. Erza loved to have her fun with him.

Chewing her lower lip, she dragged the hardened tips of her breasts against his bare skin, still wet from washing. It was a terrible mixture of pleasure and agony to be teased through the thin black lace of her lingerie. She took his hand in hers and curled it around the thin band of bra that laid just below her breasts. There was a playful glint in her eyes, daring him to do it. Jellal exhaled deeply and tugged her closer. Erza had a knack for playing with him—testing the limits of his boldness until his stoic exterior crumbled away—and Jellal had learned that there was always a reward for taking the initiative.

Reaching for a kiss, Erza saw a jumble of anticipation, need, and happiness in his eyes. But there was also pain, and for a moment, she stayed her hand. Jellal always grew somber when he knew their time together was close to an end. Too many shadows still lurked in his heart.

“And blue has always been a favorite of mine,” she said, combing her fingers through dripping locks. “Though there’s always been something about your tattoo.” Gently, she traced the red markings around his cheek. Another mystery of his past. “It’s like you’ve carried a token of me with you, even before we ever met.” Her finger brushed his temple. “How did you get it again?”

Jellal sighed, and Erza knew what his answer would be. “Even if I could remember what really happened, I don’t think you’d believe me,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. Erza pursed her lips but let the subject go. One day he’d have to venture back down that dark road, but tonight was not that night. It wasn’t good for him to have such ghosts keep residence in his mind.

Jellal stroked the guildmark on Erza’s arm, urging her away from grim thoughts he wasn’t ready to resurface. Some skeletons were better left locked away and forgotten. “We carry a reminder of each other with us, no matter where we go.”

Erza glanced down at her Fairy Tail emblem. Blue, just like him. He’d always hoped she’d chosen that color because of him. It made him feel connected to her, even when they were apart.

“Yes, we do. So why is there sadness in your eyes?”

Jellal averted his gaze, silently cursing his inability to hide his emotions from her.

“It’s nothing.”

“It's because I have to leave in the morning,” she whispered, resting her forehead against his chest.

Erza was too observant sometimes.

“Yes,” he said, burying his nose in her hair. He felt her arms wrap around his waist. “There just never seems to be enough time. I'm not even sure when we'll see each other again.”

“I know,” Erza said, voice wavering, “it's not easy for me either. But don't muddle the moments we have together with such sadness.” Blinking away her own pain, she wiped a tear from his cheek. “We should be happy for the time we can have.”

“I just—wish I could hold you next me every day—not just for a night here and there.”

Jellal’s words stung her heart, and Erza granted herself a moment of self pity. Grabbing his deep blue hair, she pulled him down into a desperate tangle of lips. She longed to make up every kiss she couldn’t give, every touch they'd missed, every morning they’d woken up cold and alone instead of nestled together, and she poured it all into one moment of passion.

A rouge tear fell down her cheek. Sniffling, she shook away. Erza didn’t know if it had been hers or Jellal’s, but with it went the rest of their pain.

Smiling up at him, she said, “You're holding me now. So kiss me tonight and leave the tears for tomorrow.”

Jellal smiled back down and placed his lips, warm and tender, on her own. “Ok. It can wait til tomorrow.”

Pain slowly eased from their hearts. They clung to each other in a long embrace, neither able to let go of the person they’d yearned to hold for the last few months. Erza ran her hands over Jellal’s back, rubbing away his last shreds of sorrow. His arms around her felt like home.

Jellal placed a kiss on her cheek. Then her mouth. Again and again he kissed her, losing himself in the taste of her lips. Erza chuckled to herself. She could’ve stripped bare standing in his arms and he’d be none the wiser. And that was cause enough to have a little fun.

Nimble fingers untied the towel resting around his hips, and with one swift movement, Erza yanked it from his body. Her ensuing fit of laughter broke their fervid exchange of lips. She’d actually managed to pull it off. Jellal’s jaw dropped. He lunged for the towel, but Erza whipped it one way and then the other, always keeping it just out of his reach. Finally, Jellal was having fun. When she was sufficiently amused, Erza draped the towel around his head and tousled his hair dry.

“I think,” she teased, tugging down on the fabric and fixing him with her eyes, “you should focus on what's happening in front of you now.” Her finger skittered across his chest, rousing sensitive skin. “Instead of worrying about tomorrow.”

Jellal’s heart leapt into his throat. “What do you have in mind?” he breathed.

“Oh, I think you know.”

Tossing towel and caution to the wind, Erza jumped into his arms. Jellal’s feet fumbled with the sudden addition of weight. Steadying himself against a wall, it occurred to him that there were many advantages this position. Her legs wrapped around him. The soft curve of her ass overflowed in his hands. And Jellal pulled her as close as their bodies would allow. Featherlight kisses danced from Erza’s lips. Every touch urged his thoughts into dangerous territory, and the mischief in her smile told him she wanted it just as badly.

The world fell away in a blur of giggles and racing hearts. Tonight, he’d give her everything he knew she wanted—and everything they'd both been missing. Heat surged inside him, and Jellal whirled around, pinning Erza’s back against the wall. Soft caresses turned rough and hungry, and the more passionately he touched her, the more it stoked Erza’s fire.

Her hand gripped his royal blue hair, craning his neck to the side. Hot breath tickled his skin, and Erza began a slow barrage of kisses. Jellal’s knees threatened to buckle under her lips. Harder and harder she bore down until he thought he might break in half. Dark marks would surface in the morning, but Jellal didn’t care. There wasn’t room to think about that while pleasure coursed through his body. Another taste of her tongue and he gave in to her desire.

Air rushed into Jellal’s lungs as their lips parted. His head was somehow filled with clouds and bursting with bliss all at once. He sighed, happy. Unimaginable to Jellal’s sorry soul, he was happy. Erza rested her head on his shoulder. Her breath was ragged, but even still, she began to move her hips. The brush of lace against skin urged Jellal onward, teasing him with temptation, and he would not resist its call any longer.

He dared to give Erza what she wanted. Tenderly, his finger ghosted along the underside of her lingerie. A gasp tore from her lips. Soft and twinged with wanting, it was a sound that only he had the privilege to experience. And with that, Jellal lost the final shred of his composure. He needed to hear her moan harder, longer. More. Faster than a heartbeat, Jellal whipped around on his heels and made a beeline for the bed.

Suddenly, he was falling. His foot twisted in the traitorous towel, long forgotten and lying on the floor. He landed on his back with a thud, still tangled in Erza’s arms .

“Ow,” Jellal groaned, rubbing his head. The collision left his teeth reverberating in his jaw.

Erza fought back giggles from her perch on his chest. “Lose your focus, Jellal?” she purred, hand drifting around his body.

He pursed his lips in feigned annoyance. “It hurt.”

She poked him playfully then trailed her hand lower until she found what she was looking for.

Jellal felt like his body had been set on fire. He drove his head back against the carpet, grinding his teeth together to keep from screaming. The way her fingers brushed against his length was overwhelming and intoxicating. He felt her forehead press against his own, steading his trembling body.

Warm breath tickled his ear. “Shall I make the pain go away?”

Jellal gulped, nodding his acceptance. Erza’s hand tightened around his cock, and she began to pump. Jellal thrust his arm around her back, desperately trying to hold onto her as his heart threatened to beat through his chest. The feeling of Erza was more overpowering than he’d remembered, and he was growing aroused faster than he could’ve ever imagined.

“You can do whatever you want to take away the pain,” he said between ragged breaths.

Erza trailed kisses down his neck. “That's dangerous territory, Jellal.”

Sweat dripped down his neck. “I like a little danger in my life,” he said, panting furiously. Jellal bit down on his lip as her thumb twisted and teased him. Bright spots danced across his vision, and he loosed a guttural moan. “How does it always end up with me in the floor,” he laughed, nonsensically stroking Erza’s thighs, “and you on top of me?”

“Well,” she mused, tracing a finger along his chest, “we don't get many chances to have a room during these intimate interludes—much less a bed.” Erza sat upright and ground herself against his arousal. “Would you rather I get off and go to sleep?”

Jellal surged forward and cupped her face, pressing his lips to hers in a long kiss. “I don’t want anything but this.” His hands trailed through her hair as he murmured, “The woman who saved me, wanting me—to love me back—I don't know what I did to deserve this.”

Erza slowed for a moment. “You know. You just don’t want to believe it yet.” She placed a tender kiss on his lips. “So let me show you just how worthy of happiness you are.” Her next kiss sent fire blazing through his veins.

“I love you, Erza,” he breathed, tongue twisting around her own.

“I love you too. So don't miss this moment worrying about the future.”

Jellal nodded, kissing her harder until Erza’s back hit the floor and passion overtook them both.

Jellal felt truly at peace as he faded into blissful sleep. There was nothing more comforting than sight of the woman of his dreams dozing next to him under the sheets. He glanced over at his Crime Sorciere jacket, waiting patiently on a chair across the room, and a lazy grin sprouted across his cheeks. For a moment, he considered waking her. But the gentle rise and fall of Erza’s shoulder as she slept was a reminder that this was a fleeting moment of serenity for her, and he decided against disturbing her rest. She was right. Leave your worries for tomorrow. Yawning, Jellal wrapped his arm around Erza’s waist and nuzzled into the crook of her neck. The last thing he remembered before surrendering to sleep was the bright scent of strawberry in her hair.

Morning sunlight rudely roused Jellal from his slumber. He rolled over to shield himself against the intrusion and climbed on top of Erza, hoping to wake her in a much more pleasant manner. But his lips caught the fabric of her pillow instead of her cheek. Rubbing his eyes open, Jellal found himself sitting in an empty bed. Puzzled, he stretched his muscles, surprisingly sore from the night’s activities, and scanned the room. There was a small handwritten note on the coffee table. His heart plummeted into his stomach, and he stumbled over to the couch to read the paper.

I promise we'll see each other soon, but I've already stayed longer than I should. The guild’s probably already sent out a search party to find me. You know more than anyone the pride I carry with my title and the weight of my responsibility. If I had to say goodbye to you in person this morning...I don't think I would’ve been able to leave. We would’ve fallen back to bed and spent the rest of the day in each others arms. And as much as I want that...we’ve run out of time, my love. I'm sorry not to be able to wake up with you, have breakfast with you, and kiss you goodbye. But know I wanted to so much. I nearly woke you four times. I miss you even as I sit here and write this. You look so peaceful as you sleep, and I can’t rob you of that. I’m sorry. I know this isn’t how either of us wanted this little trip to end, but remember that I love you and that it won’t be long until we’re together again. There's a gift on the couch to help put your heart at ease. Be safe and don't let anyone catch you.

Pain crept back into Jellal’s heart. He knew Erza had responsibilities at Fairy Tail and places she needed to be, but that knowledge didn’t make it any easier. She couldn’t disappear like he could. He had the freedom to wander around the entirety of Fiore and no one would be any wiser. It was his mission to do just that, but Erza was always in the spotlight. Fairy Tail’s Titania. Jellal shook the feeling from his heart. He knew it was safer this way for the both of them, but he wanted all those things she’d talked about too.

Sighing, Jellal rummaged through the small bag she’d left behind. Inside, he found a timekeeping lacrima. There was nothing flashy or ornate about it. He stared at the time ticking by. It was odd for her to leave a gift, not that he was ungrateful. Still, it didn’t make sense. Jellal ran his finger absentmindedly over the border when an etching in the glass caught his attention. Suddenly, the image in the lacrima shifted. Numbers melted away to reveal a clear picture of Erza.

She stood arguing with a merchant next to what appeared to be a magic mobile and her giant cart of endless suitcases. He chuckled, she could be so brash sometimes. The poor soul didn’t look like he understood that it would be safer just to concede. No matter what was said, Erza would be leaving with that magic mobile. She had to keep up airs he supposed. There was no one more powerful and frightening than Titania. For a moment, the Erza in the lacrima stopped yelling, looked over her shoulder, and smiled. Jellal’s heart leapt in his chest. He would move Earth Land with his bare hands to make her smile.

Jellal removed his finger from the etching and the image faded. A trick lacrima was much more Erza’s style. Returning the orb to the bag, his hand brushed a small piece of fabric. Curious, he pulled it out, and a bright red blush burst across his face. Even when she wasn’t there, Erza still managed to have fun at his expense. If the rest of Crime Sorciere found out he had this, he'd be teased within an inch of his life. Heart pounding in his ears, Jellal thrust the item back into the bag. He took a few deep breaths and let his gaze drift around the room. It settled on his jacket, still waiting for him on the chair. A tear welled in his eyes; his heart already ached without her.

“At least I managed to leave my tears for today,” Jellal mumbled.

Dressing quickly, he readied his pack and donned his jacket. Tucked away inside a hidden pocket was a cloth sack. Gingerly, Jellal fingered the contents it held.

“A real reminder of each other to carry with us, no matter where we go.”

He’d have to remember that line for next time. Just a little longer and he'd be brave enough to accept the love he’d grown to realize he deserved. Just a little longer. Jellal stepped out of the door and into a scarlet sunrise. Warmth filled his heart.

“I promise, just a little longer.”

#jerza #erza scarlet #jellal fernandes #fairy tail #fairy tail fanfiction #cookie writes #cookie queen of smut #i love these dorks #this was so fun to write #and tbh i kinda want to write them more #it wasnt too smutty just enough to drop the tag #carlyyyy my love i hope this helps you whenever you have writing problems #what do yall think #i was so nervous writing a new couple #also fun fact i literally started writing the outline for this a month ago to the day

120 notes · View notes