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ev-pierce-writes · 3 years

Text

Quantum Entanglement

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Words: 6.4k (oops)

Rating: 18+ (get outta here ya children)

Summary: Steve Rogers decides to disappear, take some time for himself in the solitude of a small town where he meets you.

Warnings: p in v. oral fem receiving. size kink (reader is much smaller than Steve in more ways than one). soft (very very soft) fem dom.

AN: This is stupid soft. Just simping all over the gd place. I'm so sorry but my baby Steve deserves nothing but the purest, sweetest form of love and that's what he's getting, though I imagine he likes to be ordered around. Took me way too long to feel good about this.

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There had been the snap. And then the resurrection. Steve had lost everyone he loved and then had most of them returned, and it felt good to go back to normal, in some ways. In other ways, it was stifling.

As the world reeled and tried to figure out how to "be normal" in a time that was anything but, normalcy felt forced, rushed, exaggerated. He wanted to be in this world, of course. The 1940s were no longer his home, and Steve had everything he wanted here. But he didn't feel complete. A piece was always missing, something from a past life, that he couldn't quite name but knew he had to find.

So he disappeared. Went undercover as some might call it. Bucky knew, of course, and Sam on some level. But to the rest of the world, he had slipped quietly back into the past to live the rest of his life. In reality, he'd slipped into Herrington, Massachusetts, a small coastal town where he was invisible to the world.

He'd found a little house, a cottage on the beach, and settled in completely. He didn't need a job, the government was more than willing to pay him a severance check of some sort, but he took one anyway, stocking the local grocery store and delivering groceries to the elderly when they ordered. It was just antiquated enough to remind him of a faraway time, of the past, but didn't force him to give up his wifi and color television. That was something he'd come to love.

And that was where he met you. You, the petite spitfire with a bone to pick with the entire world. Fierce, loyal, and slightly terrifying when double-crossed. The first time he met you, you had come out of your great-aunt's house shaking a fist over the groceries.

"I told Mr. Pierce," you were yelling, "not to skimp me on the meat." Mr. Pierce was the grocery store owner. And the meat in question was a roast, for what purpose, Steve wasn't sure, but one that apparently did not satisfy your desires.

You hadn't been the one to answer the door, that was your great-aunt Agnes, a kind, leather-faced woman who liked to tip Steve a healthy amount for "carrying all those heavy groceries for a silly old lady like me."

"It's no problem ma'am," he'd replied and stepped back toward his motorcycle, recently decked out with a basket on the back to transport deliveries. Then you'd chased him down the road until he noticed you and stopped, shouting all the way.

"When you see him," you said, your finger wagging in his face, puffing and out of breath from your yelling and running, "tell the bastard that's the last time he gets away with making me pay for his shitty cuts of meat."

Steve didn't really know what to say, but then your face softened, your voice calmed, and you took a deep breath. Maybe the panicked look on his face had made you have a change of heart. "I apologize for yelling at you, I know you're just the messenger. But that slimy son-of-a-bitch is going to get what's coming for him someday."

"I'll let him know," Steve replied with half a smile on his face.

"You aren't from around here are you?" you had asked, a sudden look of curiosity in your bright eyes.

Steve nodded. "Just moved here."

"Look, I'm really sorry." You stuck out your hand and introduced yourself, and Steve had found that hand to be surprisingly supple and calloused for its tiny size. "Let me make it up to you. Aunt Agnes seems to like you. We're having a potluck tonight, her place. Why don't you come by and meet the neighbors? I'm sure they'd love a new face, especially one as handsome and friendly as yours. Maybe make some friends, even."

You were being surprisingly friendly and sincere, and Steve had no choice but to accept the invitation.

So that's how he ended up in an old lady's backyard, handing off a bowl of his mother's jello salad (it was a potluck after all), and accepting a beer from a man who looked similar enough to be your brother (a cousin, it turned out). You didn't even notice his arrival, flying about, getting everything set up, taking part in the appropriate amount of small talk. Earlier, when you'd chased Steve down the road, your hair had been flung all about your head, wisps of it sticking out from all directions and looking positively a mess. You'd been wearing jeans with mud on the knees and a t-shirt that had more holes than necessary for your arms and head. Now, your hair was pinned back and tamed and you floated about in a soft blue sundress, revealing a delicate plane of skin across your shoulders and tan arms and legs.

The calloused hands and muddy jeans made sense now as well. The backyard of Aunt Agnes' house was primarily a garden, not only beautiful rose bushes and creeping wisteria but rows and rows of fruits and vegetables, cucumbers, tomatoes, watermelon, strawberries. The work was obviously the product of a talented gardener.

Aunt Agnes was the one to welcome him in, having noticed Steve before you did and taking his arm. She began to talk, of you and the neighborhood and her many, many family members. She introduced them one by one, though most of the names he immediately forgot. But it was a blessing to not be recognized and he relished the feeling. Sure, he'd grown out his beard and his hair was a bit longer than the standard military high and tight, and he wore a flannel with the sleeves rolled up instead of red, white, and blue spangles, but it still amazed him that he could pass through the world like this.

Eventually, the conversations became too much, and Steve excused himself to the kitchen to find a drink while he waited for the food to be ready. Really he just wanted some silence, a relief from society. But you'd beat him there, and, ever the busy bee, were scrambling to fill a cooler with more ice.

"Steve!" you exclaimed when you saw him, pleasant surprise plastered across your face. "I'm so glad you came."

You reached out and gave him a hug that took Steve so much by surprise he almost forgot to return it. It was shockingly warm, your arms around his neck, and though he had to stoop down to your level, he wrapped his arms around your waist anyways.

"I hope they didn't overwhelm you out there. My family can be a lot."

"No, not at all. Just needed some quiet. I'll let you get back to work."

"I could actually use your help if you don't mind."

You directed him into the front room toward a stack of boxes, cases of drinks he assumed. When Steve returned to the kitchen, all four boxes piled in his arms, you nearly dropped the glasses in your hands in shock. You recovered quickly, trying to remain polite despite your poorly hidden astonishment, but Steve could already tell you were trying to compute how he had managed to carry over a hundred pounds of drinks in one go.

"You can, um, put them on the counter I guess," you managed to stutter out. Your sudden flustered state was amusing, and Steve noticed he liked the way you seemed almost embarrassed, cheeks flushed pink, though he had no idea why you should feel that way.

But then you picked back up with your normal bubbly chatter, and Steve found himself lingering longer and longer in the kitchen with you until he realized neither of you were doing anything but talking, the work abandoned in lieu of discussions about the town, your stall at the farmers market, and eventually, very naturally, the passing of your parents. The slip into deep conversation was easy, surprisingly easy, easier than it had ever been with anyone else, even though Steve felt himself having to lie a bit about his past. Sure, he could admit to being from Brooklyn and having no family and his stint in the military, but that was about the extent of it. He found himself wanting to tell you more but refraining.

When your cousin called that food was ready from the backyard, the jolt back to reality was abrupt and almost unwelcome, until you smiled and allowed him to put a hand on your back, pulling Steve out to enjoy some food.

As night fell, lights twinkled on in the backyard, and the summer heat reduced to a light thrum as the breeze from the ocean swept through the town. Fireflies glowed in the darkness of the low trees behind the house and you seemed to glow as well, good food and friendly conversation lighting your face up with joy. You caught Steve's eye several times during the night, noticing him watching you from across the garden, but he didn't care. He liked that his attention made you smile.

Finally, the party began to dwindle, as parents with young kids trickled out, followed by the older folks, heading off to bed. Soon, even Aunt Agnes turned in and only the cousins close to you in age remained. They pulled out the stronger bottles of alcohol, sitting in plastic chairs and passing shots around the barbeque that still glowed hot with coals. Steve accepted every pass of vodka that came his way, despite knowing it wouldn't get him even remotely drunk. But the camaraderie of the moment helped ease a bit of that gaping hole in his soul so he clung to it as best he could. And you were sitting next to him, insisting he take a sip, and again he couldn't turn you down.

"And then Jack nearly sunk the boat in the bay," you were saying, telling the story of one of your cousin's finer moments. "Your dad almost killed us."

"Oh you want to bring that up?" he teased. "How about the time you snuck out and Aunt Agnes caught you making out with Michael on the beach."

You blushed bright red at the reminder but protested that was years ago. Then another cousin brought up his own late-night escapades and you devolved into a fit of giggles, leaning so far out of your chair that Steve had to catch you before you slipped right to the ground. Your hand gripped his to recover but, to his surprise, you never removed it, even as you righted yourself in your seat. Your hand just remained in his, your small fingers wrapped in his large ones, as you turned to pester him into telling a story.

"What about you Steve? Tell us an embarrassing story."

He looked around at the group and they leaned in expectantly, curious to know more about the stranger who was quickly becoming a friend. Steve didn't know what to say, most of his stories involving things he wasn't yet ready to reveal about himself. So he picked one from long ago.

"I once picked a fight with a guy at a bar. He was a bit of a Nazi. Got my ass kicked. Fortunately, I had a friend to back me up or he definitely would have killed me."

Everyone looked shocked. "But you're so strong," someone spoke up. "Look at you. How could anyone beat you in a fight?"

Steve shrugged, not wanting to admit to it being a pre-serum story. "Guess I'm a bit of a pacifist."

He turned to you to gauge your reaction. Your eyes were wide, sparkling with mischief and curiosity and a hint of disbelief. For a moment Steve thought you had figured it out, figured out who he was, but then you started giggling again and the only thing keeping you in your seat was his hand in yours.

"That's not embarrassing Steve, that's just the most fucking noble thing I've ever heard. Making us all look bad."

Your teasing words made his heart flutter in his chest and he felt like he could get used to this crowd.

Eventually, the coals of the barbeque started to wink out, and the cousins excused themselves for the night, heading home on foot to the various houses they had come from. It seemed no one lived too far apart in this town. Suddenly, the backyard was quiet.

"Can I give you a hand cleaning up?" Steve asked, not wanting to leave you with the job that looked a bit overwhelming to him.

You looked around and shrugged, a little tipsy but fully aware that it was a big mess. "I'll probably just take care of it in the morning. Can you just help me get the dishes inside?"

Steve obediently gathered up plates and cups, filling the dishwasher in several trips. Finally, the last were inside and you stood in the kitchen filling the sink to wash the pots and pans while Steve tried awkwardly to find a way to say goodbye.

"Um, thank you," he said at last, "for welcoming me into your community. It means a lot. I'll, uh, see you later I guess. Have a good night."

You stopped your scrubbing to look up at him, bubbles up to your elbows, your face flushed from the warm night air and the alcohol.

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

You paused, hesitant, eyes searching his face for confirmation of a mutual feeling. "Do you ever feel like you were meant to meet someone? For a reason?"

The question hit him like a ton of bricks, and he realized that this night had made him feel exactly that way, that somehow he was meant to end up here and meet you, of all people. Why else had there been an instant connection unless this was just the way you were with everyone?

But your question made him think otherwise. You had to be special. Steve, in that moment, could do nothing but nod in affirmation. And then, like you had both had the same thought at the same moment, you were meeting him halfway, rising on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck, and kissing him. Really, truly, kissing him.

It was like that missing piece had found itself. You slotted your soul into his and Steve was pressing you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you, and lifting you so he didn't have to bend down to reach you. Your wet hands tangled into his slightly too long hair, pulling him impossibly closer, tasting one another's tongues.

And that was the start of it, of late-night motorcycle rides down the causeway, of Saturdays spent on the beach that tapered into drinks with friends, of dinners filled with your chatter and smiles and laughter, and Steve couldn't believe how lucky he was. He was not used to this feeling, of building friendship and companionship and perhaps even love. And he certainly wasn't used to the intense desire to reach out and pinch your ass every time you showed up at his house wearing those gardening jeans, high-waisted and tight and so goddamn cute.

But he never did, was never sure how you'd react. You kissed him, a lot in fact, every morning that he came over and every night that he dropped you off at home. And you never shied away from telling him how handsome he was, how much you liked his hands and his arms and his short beard, how sweet he was and kind and soft and gentle. So many words, words that made his head spin and his world wobble and sway. But it never came to be more than that, never late at night when he was thinking of you most. And oh lord, did he think about you, how your small frame might fit against his in bed while you spooned and slept, or how tight you'd be if he fucked you until the sun rose. He didn't particularly like sleeping in bed, it was too soft for his taste and he tended to take the couch or even the floor most nights, but he would sleep in bed for you if you would just tell him that was what you wanted.

It was like you were waiting for the right moment. And apparently, that moment was July 4th, during the annual celebration. Steve had whispered to you that it was consequently also his birthday, and had begged you to keep that a secret, but it seemed you had simply forgotten the fact entirely. The day passed without mention that Steve was turning 39 (105 if he'd been really counting) and you kissed him as the fireworks exploded over the ocean, sitting in the sand, hands tangled together. He thought the two of you would sit through the show, but then you were standing and pulling him to his feet as well and slipping away as everyone else's faces were turned to the sky.

At your house, you pulled a small cake from the fridge, just big enough to split between two people, and lit a couple of candles as you sat next to him at the kitchen table. Of course, you hadn't forgotten.

"Make a wish," you said with a happy smile. So he did, hoping this summer would never end. "What did you wish for?"

"Can't tell you, otherwise it won't come true," he replied. But then you pouted and he lost all resolve. "How about I show you instead?"

The look on your face said it all, shock mixed with intrigue and the mischief he had noticed that first night almost a week ago. So he reached down and tugged your chair closer, forcing you to face him with your knees between his. And then he leaned over and kissed you, taking your small cheeks in his large palms, putting all the power of his suppressed feelings behind it. He hoped you understood that he wanted more than to just kiss you, he wanted to occupy space inside you, fill you, complete you. Steve could feel your smile against his lips.

You pulled away. "Did you wish that I was dessert instead of the cake?

"I might have. Should we make my wish come true?"

Again you smiled, bright and guiding like a lighthouse torch, and something in your demeanor changed. Instantly, you were relenting to his touch, letting him pull you further into his lap, straddling his waist and settling into him like that was where you were meant to be. The quiet house, probably as old as him in this New England town, creaked in the silence of the night, only occasionally disturbed by the bang of a firework. But it all faded away with you in his arms.

You fit perfectly, just as Steve had hoped.

"You gonna be gentle with me, big man?" you whispered, that same brilliant smile on your face, wiggling as close to him as possible, the fingers of one hand tangled into the hair at the nape of his neck, the others tracing down the point of his sharp nose and pressing against his soft lips. "You gonna fuck me good? Be a good boy?"

Oh, Christ. Steve nearly lost his mind with your hips so tight against his, lost it at your words that made his heart race and color rise to his cheeks. He could be good. Really damn good. You seemed to know something about him that Steve didn't even know about himself, of how much he liked your praise, your commanding tone. If there was anything he was good at, it was taking orders.

"You just keep telling me what to do and I'm all yours," he mumbled against your fingers, the thump of his heart beating in time with yours somewhere deep in your chest, echoes of one another in the silence of the house. Your hand came to grip his chin, pushing another kiss against his mouth, a kiss with lips parted in a sigh, the mingled palate of you and him, like a glass of wine on the beach and chocolate melted on the tongue, sweeping over taste buds and breathed into starved lungs.

"Mm, you taste so good. Like you were created just for me, don't you think?" you asked.

"Built from the best material, just for you." Built to love you, he wanted to say. Steve shut up instead.

You hummed with pleasure and the hand on his chin gripped a little harder, a little more suggestively. He opened his mouth obediently as you slipped your thumb between his lips, and he let you press it against the soft muscle of his tongue. You wanted him to taste you, so he did, his teeth biting gently down on the pad of your finger, another pleasant hum running down your body and straight to his groin.

He waited for your instruction.

"Undress me."

He complied, obediently. Steve's large hands hiked your sundress up around your waist, revealing the softness of your hips. His fingers smoothed up the length of your thighs, kneading at the flesh of your ass that he had so longed to touch. Your reaction was music to his ears, a soft moan leaving your lips and breathed against his, and Steve closed his eyes, arousal spreading through his body at the thought that he was making you react this way. His length hardened, tight in his pants, pressed against the thin layer of fabric that covered the heat of your core. The thought that he might not fit flickered through his mind but it dissipated at the feeling of your fingers pressing into the rough stubble of his jawline.

Steve's hands continued to travel further up your body, taking time to release the zipper of your dress down the length of your spine, and you answered his quiet, "can I?" by pulling slightly away and lifting your arms over your head. The dress landed somewhere in the kitchen and Steve dragged you close again, arms wrapped around your back to encompass you completely, his lips finding purchase against the skin of your neck.

"Look at you, so perfect," Steve mumbled, face pressed into your hair. If he had looked up he would have seen you blush, but he was too preoccupied letting his senses discover every piece of you he could touch, smell, or taste. He wanted to envelop you, inch by inch, roaming and discovering and satiating his curiosity, but you dragged his attention back to your face.

"Hey, eyes up here," you said, pulling his face toward yours and locking gazes. The intensity of your eye contact was stunning, but there was something else behind those eyes, something other than intense attraction and unsatisfied arousal. Was it doubt? Insecurity? The reason why you kissed him for so many nights and never asked for more? You were searching for something, and it came in the form of a question. "You won't leave me after this, right?"

There it was, the bit of insecurity, a fear of loss, of transience, of lacking control. Someone had hurt you before. Maybe that's why you approached everything in life with such ferocity and sincerity. But Steve would never hurt you like that, never let you feel that way again. He hoped you could see it in his eyes the way he felt about you, but words would be more reassurance. "I'm yours tonight. And tomorrow. And the day and week and month and year after that, if you'll have me that long. Whatever it is you need, I'll give it to you."

You blinked and then smiled and pressed another quick kiss to his lips before murmuring, "touch me" against them. So he did, trailing his hands over every sliver of skin before him. He felt the goosebumps rising in their wake, the downy hair on your legs and arms, the heat of your core against him, grinding almost imperceptibly to find some kind of friction, any friction. He wanted to touch you so desperately, but he got the sense that you needed to take the lead, that it would give the control you felt you lacked. So he slid a hand down the plane of your stomach and stopped just shy of dipping into your panties, waiting for your word. But you were no longer interested in playing games. Your hand found his and pulled him lower, using his fingers to press into the seem of your cunt, and he found you slick and warm with desire.

You urged him forward. "Rub my clit, baby. Slowly. Gently."

Slowly and gently. That he could do. His fingers crept absentmindedly closer to the swollen bundle of nerves and when he landed there, touch soft and circling, you jerked against him, your whole body moving with the force of anticipation and a cry leaving your lips. And though it seemed to burn, seemed to be torture for yourself, you demanded he do it again. Your forehead leaned against his, eyes shut tight, and Steve watched as your face contorted in pleasure as he flicked and circled again and again and again.

"Yes, baby. Perfect. So good. So. Fucking. Good."

Every bit of you was soft, from your neck where he placed his kisses to the curled hair hiding the swollen bud of your clit where his fingers played gently and rhythmically. Even the orgasm that gushed from your smooth cunt and stuttered from your lips was soft. You came with a choked cry as your hand pulled him closer by the back of his head, your tits pressed to his chest. Steve looked up to watch you devolve into pleasure, eyes squeezed tightly shut, your hair messy and swirling about your face, the straps of your bra slipping from your shoulder.

"Bed. Now. Right now," you demanded before you even had a chance to come down from your high. He would have been just as happy to have you in the kitchen, just like that, but Steve picked you up, with you latched to his chest like a koala, and carried you upstairs. You felt feather-light in his arms, easily tossed onto the mattress, your hands reaching out to pull his white t-shirt overhead and grab at the plane of his chest. Even as Steve kissed you again you couldn't stop tracing your fingertips over the lines of his torso, the ridges of his abs, the v-line that led tantalizingly toward the waistband of his pants. He felt his cock twitch and strain against the fabric of his boxers, the rough cotton not enough to stimulate him but enough to make him ache for your pussy. Your fluttering hands were not helping and Steve pictured your thin fingers wrapping around his length.

"Look at you," you said. "You're fucking perfect." It was Steve's turn to blush.

Steve wasn't...inexperienced. But it had been a while, to say the least, since he'd had the time or energy or capacity to even feel attracted to anyone. And even longer, perhaps never, since he felt the way he felt about you, like a bee to a flower, drunk on sweet nectar and high on honey. That was you, the delicate flower, so small and tender beneath him, yet as stunning and resonating and thunderous as the fireworks bursting somewhere overhead.

Fighting to survive was all Steve had known for so long, standing up to the bully and helping the fallen to their feet, that it was a relief to not have to be that man for you. You didn't require protection or help or anything from him at all, and yet you welcomed his presence endlessly. Steve realized he was not a need for you, but a want, and for the first time he felt valued for something real, something that wasn't just his brute strength, but something almost bordering on love. This he understood as he stared at your sweet face, caging you beneath him in bed.

"Earth to Steve," you said softly as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling his pelvis down toward yours and dragging a deep groan from his lungs. He hadn't noticed he'd stopped kissing you and was getting lost in drinking you in amidst his reverie until your small hand pressed to the back of his neck and gently guided him back to your lips. But you stopped just shy, your eyebrows knitted in concern, taking his leisurely manner for uncertainty. "We can stop if you want."

"No, definitely not."

"Good. Then stop staring and kiss me."

"Where?" he teased.

"Everywhere, big man."

Everywhere was doable. So he started at your lips with one so big and breathless it rivaled Mount Everest. For a moment he let himself forget about everything except how long he could go without oxygen against your lips. But there remained more of you to taste.

Steve's lips connected with your chin and slid down your jawline, taking time to kiss the pulse of your neck and the dip of your clavicle. The fan of his breath tickled across your skin and you giggled, the purest sound of joy bubbling from your lips at his touch. More of that he wanted. So he continued down to the valley between your breasts, full and round despite your stature, removing your bra as he did so, nibbling lightly at the peaks of your chest before replacing his teeth with his pinching fingers and moving lower again. Lower toward the edge of your ribs, arched upward to meet the movement of his mouth, toward the slope of your hips, his sharp nose following each kiss as your underwear joined your bra into the abyss.

Your thighs he kissed, top to bottom, left and right, but it was your ass he couldn't get enough of, filling his grip with handfuls of your flesh, using it to pull you toward the edge of the bed where he kneeled, lifting your hips toward his face, your legs slung one over each shoulder. Steve sunk his tongue into your folds without warning and you gasped, your thighs suddenly squeezing tight around his head.

"Yes, right there," you hissed between ragged breaths.

He responded by burying deeper, gripping you harder, and moaning with delight at your overwhelming taste and scent bombarding his senses. You squirmed but didn't pull away as Steve's hands worked their way back up your stomach to cup the tissue of your breasts, the width of his palms capturing the flesh in one big handful. Your hands covered his, holding them there, forcing him to press you into the bed while his mouth left you twitching and bucking beneath his touch.

And in spite of the urgency with which Steve wished to devour you, he continued on leisurely, doing his best to build you up slowly and gently pick you apart bit by bit the way you had asked him to do it before. Your body betrayed its delight, evidenced enough by the way your legs hooked around him and held him down, but you praised him anyways, rapture falling from your lips between sporadic moans of pleasure.

"Fuck, Steve, you're so good, oh God yes, baby, you're doing so good, taste me like that," you cried, and the words spurred him onward, hurried his movements just slightly, his tongue circling your clit, fingers circling your areolas. He would do whatever you asked, jump off a cliff, take a bullet to the chest, drown himself in a river, if only to please you. But you would never ask anything of him that he couldn't give, and Steve knew the moment you asked for his heart it would be his heart you'd receive. And with that intent in his mind, he made you come undone with a silent cry.

Eventually, the trembling ceased, even as he continued to drink your release with the ministrations of his tongue.

"Oh fuck, you like the way I taste baby?" you asked. His affirmation came out muffled and sloppy between your legs. Even you were breathless, barely getting out the words, but you pushed him nonetheless. "I wanna hear you say it, Steve. You like eating me out? Like drinking my juices?"

"Fuck, yes, you taste like goddamn heaven, darling."

"Kiss me, Steve."

"Yes, ma'am."

He complied without a second thought, crawling back up your body to lean over you, giving you a taste of the heaven he had just dipped into. When your fingers found his belt, he helped you remove the rest of his clothes. And then your hands were roving down his chest again, searching blindly until they found what they were looking for. Steve groaned at your touch on his swollen cock.

You gasped. "Oh, God."

Before Steve could respond you pushed him over onto his back and straddled his thighs, eyeing the length on display before you, fingers around it as if testing the girth and finding them unable to wrap all the way around.

"Oh God," you repeated. A short laugh bubbled up from your throat, the controlling front you'd managed to maintain this whole time slipping from your tone.

"Something wrong?" he asked, feeling slightly inadequate under your scrutiny. Steve sat up to meet your eyes, hands finding their place on your hips.

You gazed at him, eyes wide and glassy. "You're gonna split me in half with that thing."

"We don't have to. Not if you aren't comfortable."

"Oh baby, I'm gonna get real comfortable sitting on your cock." Your sultry grin was back and you rose up on your knees to look down at him. Your other hand swiped between your legs, two fingers gathering the warm, wet juices of your orgasm, before joining the first around his cock. You pumped, rolling a drop of precum off the tip with your thumb and rubbing it down his length, mixing the release of your pleasure with his. Steve barely held back from bucking his hips into your hand. He would save that for your pussy.

"I want you to fill me," you whispered. "I wanna be so fucking full. Just go slowly, okay?"

"Slowly. I got you, baby girl. You can take me. Let me fill you."

Steve lifted your hips and guided you forward, aligning your entrance with his length. You moved at a crawling pace, letting gravity sink your pussy around him, pausing every inch to adjust to his intrusion. His biceps stung with the grip of your fingernails in his skin, but it was a welcome distraction from the rush of pleasure threatening to tip him over the edge prematurely. Agonizingly you dipped further, a cry falling from your lips, until you were fully seated, the tip of him pressed into the cavity behind your cervix. You were warm, so, so warm, and soft and tight and you fit perfectly, just like he knew you would.

"Fuck, Steve, you're so big."

"Am I hurting you?" he asked, wiping away a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

"No, fuck, no, you feel so good. I just--I can't move."

"I got you, darling," Steve whispered, his face falling to your chest and burying it in the soft flesh of your tits. And then he wrapped his arms around your waist and did all the moving for you, lifting you up and sinking you down again, just fast enough to make you gasp for air and whine his name. With every thrust, you cried out in pleasure.

"Don't stop, Steve, please, baby, don't stop."

The fingers of one hand tugged at his hair dampened by sweat, nails scratching lightly across his scalp, as the other fell between your legs. You pressed your fingers around your clit and along your entrance, feeling where Steve's thick cock was pushing in and out of your tight pussy, feeling how big he was, how much he filled you. The meandering touch of your fingers almost sent him straight over the edge.

But it was the slick warmth of your cunt that was too much, and Steve found himself resting his forehead more and more heavily against your chest, willing himself to give you everything you wanted before he even thought about himself. The satin scent of your skin, like talcum and rose and his cologne, intoxicated him with every breath, and he sucked and nibbled on one breast and then the other, mindlessly attending to the most sensitive parts of you. A drop of sweat rolled down your sternum and Steve chased it with his tongue, licking a warm stripe up the center of your chest.

"Tell me what you need, darling."

"Fuck, that's perfect," you whined. "You fuck me so good, baby. Don't stop. Gonna make me come--make me come so hard."

Your fingers pressed against your clit once more and then you were clenching around him, your already tight pussy settling into a pulsing vice grip, your body shaking against his while he kissed the sweat from your collar bones. Steve felt you pumping the life out of him, riding out your orgasm and dragging him closer to his. The hand that had been on your clit moved to cup the weight of his balls, pinching and massaging as they pulled in heavy with the need for release.

"Where do you want me, darling, you gotta tell me."

You practically ordered him to come inside you, told him you wanted to feel him sticky between your thighs all night and it was suddenly Steve's turn to come undone, his hot seed pumping deep inside you, his twitching member finally finding release. He moaned your name against your lips, pulling you into a final searing kiss.

When, after a good twenty minutes of not moving from that position, of breathing heavy and kissing softly, you finally pulled away to lean down and lick his cock clean, the sticky mingling of you and him on your tongue, and he had to fight the urge to get hard again. And when you kissed him again, he tasted that mingling, two souls becoming one, as they were meant to be.

He slept next to you for the first time that night, your small frame encased in his, even though there was no need to share body heat in the dead of summer. But he actually slept, no dreams, no nightmares, no waking up in the middle of the night. Just deep, heavy sleep, your head tucked beneath his chin, back to his bare chest, his hands holding your breasts, and your hands holding his. Tangled together. Souls as one.

#steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers #captain america #captain america x reader #avengers smut #captain america smut #steve rogers smut #simping for steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction

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zevlors-tail · 3 years

Note

Hi I feel really bad for sending in an emergency request but bakugou, deku, or kaminari comforting and helping a reader who is going through a major depressive episode with suicidal thoughts. I’m so sorry I feel really bad for asking

A/N: I could not have gotten this at a more convenient time. I just want to say thank you for requesting this, and please don’t be sorry for asking about this. If you want to talk my dms are open, but I hope this helps! This was extremely cathartic for me to write. I only did Bakugou for the moment, but I fully plan on coming back at some point to at least add Denki (and also Deku eventually). Bakugou as a secret comfort character for me? It’s more likely than you think.

TW: Suicidal ideation, suicidal thoughts, suicidal reader, depression. PLEASE DO NOT READ if these things trigger you. It’s extremely descriptive and emotional!

Bakugou Katsuki

“Hey...are you okay?”

You barely snapped out of your foggy trance as you slowly blinked, your coworker’s face coming into focus eventually as you gathered your surroundings you had long since forgotten about. Your response was immediate, familiar words strung together with little effort after saying them over and over again. No longer did they drag you down and taste like lies in your mouth; now they were just the ghost of a feeling you struggled to remember, an empty shell with hollowed out meaning.

“Oh, yeah...just tired,” you drawled. And you were.

There weren’t too many days anymore that you didn’t feel drained, didn’t feel like the weight of the world was sitting on your shoulders. You felt heavy- both mentally and physically, like there were weights tethered to your arms and legs. It made you feel utterly exhausted at the end of every day and stole your motivation to get up in the morning. Your bed never seemed more comfortable, and your sheets never seemed so warm. If you had the choice, you would allow yourself to lie there forever, to skip work in favor of sleeping through the whole day, because what good was there in being awake, anyway? Lately it just seemed like everything was a waste.

“Are you sure? You just seem...down.” Your coworker gave you a concerned look, and you thought it ironic that the day you felt you might snap was the day everyone chose to finally ask if you were alright. Maybe she could see it on your face, or maybe you finally looked how you felt inside. Whatever the case, you didn’t care. In fact, you hardly cared about anything; it was hard to care about your life when you felt there was no value to it.

“I’m fine! Just really tired,” you repeated without hesitation.

“Okay, if you’re sure.” She seemed to take the explanation without any further question, shrugging and turning around to get back to what she had been doing before. “Just make sure management doesn’t catch you staring off like that; I think they’re in a bad mood today.”

Logically, you knew you were dealing with depression. Depression was not something new to you; this had happened before, and you had managed to dig yourself out of your own hole each time, but this time was...different. Logic didn’t stop the thoughts rampaging through your mind, didn’t quiet the voices that told you others would be better off without you. You felt like a burden to everyone, a walking problem that caused trouble everywhere you went. Just this morning at work you had dropped something accidentally, and it had spilled all over the floor and under the tables, the mess reaching into the cracks and crevices of the tiles where it would be harder to get to. You had done the best you could to clean it up, but in the end, the janitor had to step in and clean up the mess that you made. Maybe it was just an accident, and maybe you didn’t mean to spill your food, but you couldn’t see past the fact that you were always like this. Always spilling things, always causing problems for others, always inconveniencing everyone you came into contact with. Maybe...it would be better if you had stayed in bed all day instead of coming to work.

Maybe it would be better if you had never woke up in the first place.

...No!

You shook the thought from your head, doing your best to ignore it and focus on something else. Come on, you told yourself, focus on your job. But your mind remained hazy as you continued on with work, and it only served to cause more problems for you. By the end of the day, you had accidentally dropped a couple more items, slipped on some water and fell face first to the ground, and towards the end of your shift, just as you were clocking out, you bumped into an unruly customer who was clearly having none of it today. Hands reached out to shove you away and you stumbled, tripping over your own feet as you tried to get a grip and regain your balance.

“Watch where you’re going, god! Are you blind or something!? Jesus!”

For any other person, it might have just made them upset or angry, but it would have been passed off as a bad day, a bad moment in the grand scheme of things that would go away with time. But for you? For you it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Whatever motivation and will to live you had left, it was gone within the instant, replaced with a numb, empty feeling. What was the point in all of this? If this was life, if you were constantly going to cause problems and get in people’s way, what was your purpose here?

If nothing was enjoyable anymore...you just wanted it to end. It was too late for you anyways; you felt too far gone to be saved. And honestly...what was even left to save? You felt like a shell of your former self.

And that was how you left the store, feet dragging against the ground as you numbly walked to your car to go home. It took you a while to collect yourself, so you sat there for a few minutes in the parking lot, keys stuck in the ignition and hands resting loosely on the steering wheel. Finally, you worked up the will to actually start the car, and then you were on your way home. Home...where you would probably just lie through your teeth again and go lay in bed for the rest of the night.

Bakugou was in the kitchen making dinner when you padded through the foyer and announced your arrival, the smell of spices overwhelming rather than inviting or enticing. But then again, you didn’t have much of an appetite lately, and you found the thought of sleep to be more appealing than the thought of food anyways.

“I’m home.” Your voice was quieter than usual, your tone flat and monotonous. Bakugou didn’t respond for a minute, and you wondered if he had even heard you over the sound of something sizzling in a pan.

“Y/N, that you?” A head poked out from around the corner, red eyes meeting E/C. “How was work?”

“It was work.” You blinked and kicked your shoes off haphazardly, your body already caving in on itself as you made your way to the bedroom. If Bakugou noticed the change from your usual demeanor, he said nothing about it, only going back to what he was doing in the kitchen when you retreated to your sanctuary for the night.

Finally alone with your thoughts, you crawled under the soft sheets with your work clothes still on and curled up, eyes already shutting even before your head hit the pillow. At some point you must have managed to fall asleep, because the next thing you knew you were being shaken awake by Katsuki, a sweet and savory smell drifting through the air. Your stomach rumbled, and though it felt empty, you still didn’t feel like eating emotionally. The only thing you seemed to feel now was a heaviness settling on your soul.

“Y/N, come eat.” Either you were imagining things or Bakugou’s normally gruff voice was more gentle and relaxed as he woke you from your slumber.

You protested with a whine, your face scrunching up in annoyance from being woken up. “Tired...” you mumbled.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But you haven’t had anything since you came home from work, babe.”

“That was only an hour ago...” you started, your voice still thick from sleep. But as you looked towards your alarm clock on the nightstand next to the bed, you were surprised to find that the little digital numbers read 11:58 pm. You’d slept for a little over five hours since you had arrived home. “Shit-!”

That seemed to do the trick, and you were scrambling up and out of bed in no time, panic and confusion washing over you from your prolonged nap. Had you really slept so long? You hadn’t meant to, but it did feel nice to have a small break from everything you felt when you were awake. And again, you caught yourself wondering if maybe the world would be better off if you never woke up. Eventually the haziness of your dream state faded, leaving you with the same reality you had been facing earlier in the day. You wanted nothing more than to go back to bed and curl up in your state of melancholy, but you were up now, and Katsuki would worry if you didn’t eat anything.

The two of you made your way to the dinning room table where a plate of reheated leftovers sat along with some silver cutlery, a cute little holiday napkin leftover from Halloween resting next to it. You stared at the pumpkin covered paper for a while before picking up your fork and stabbing at whatever dish Bakugou had decided on for dinner. Lately he seemed to be on a vegetable kick, though a healthy dose of fruits and meats were also thrown into the mix for balance. You mindlessly chewed, not really paying attention to the flavor if there was any at all. In fact, it felt like you were chewing cardboard. You didn’t enjoy the taste or feel; you only ate purely out of habit and need to.

“Do you not like it?” Bakugou pulled you from your reverie of thoughts, your head snapping up in his direction when he spoke.

“Huh?”

“The food. You’ve barely touched it in the last ten minutes.”

Ten minutes? Since when had that much time passed? Looking down at your plate, you realized he was correct. Over half of your food remained untouched, bits and pieces of it spread around from your fork and pushed to the side as if it was your least favorite meal. You hadn’t even noticed you were playing with it, and you wondered how long you had been just sitting there scooting food around with a blank look on your face.

“No, it was good.” Liar. You’d hardly been able to taste it. But it wasn’t just food that had lost it’s merit to you, if you really thought about it. The world just didn’t seem as lively; colors seemed washed out and faded, food held no taste, and music just didn’t sound the same. Nothing was enjoyable for you anymore.

“Y/N. You know you can tell me if there’s something going on, right?” Bakugou’s eyes bored into you while you just stared at the brightly colored napkin.

“Yeah, I know!” you chirped back, eyes briefly flickering up to meet his gaze before returning to orange pumpkins.

“Is there anything you want to talk about?” It sounded like a question, but really it was an invite. He knew there was something going on with you. Asking you was his way of giving you room to explain yourself before he decided to pry. Usually he was mindful of any boundaries you might have had, but Katsuki was never a fool, and you tended not to open up easily. Sometimes a little pushing and prodding on his part was necessary.

“Not really? Just work, but it was the usual. I’m just tired.” Even as you tried to pass your unusual behaviors off as a bad day at work and exhaustion, you couldn’t hide the sour note that slipped into your voice along with the visible scowl you made. But the emotions were short lived, and you were back to feeling defeated and down within mere seconds.

“Hey...” You felt compelled to look up at him when he softened his voice even more, but everything in you told you to hold back and keep staring at those damn balls of orange on the napkin. Why, you weren’t sure- maybe it was to keep from crying, or maybe it was to suppress the feelings that were slowly surfacing within you, or maybe it was just because you no longer cared. “Are you alright?”

You visibly winced when he asked. Suddenly everything hurt; everything was a mess, it was all wrong, all of it, and you just wanted it to stop. The pain, the numbness, the thoughts- everything. It felt like you hadn’t been able to catch a break since the day you were born. Day in and day out you lived like that, and no one would ever ask if you were okay. No one took the time to check on you properly; no one seemed to notice when you felt like you were at your worst. Well...no one except Bakugou. He’d been your rock for a long time now, but lately everything had gotten much worse, and you had kept certain things from him so as not to burden him with your troubles. In your eyes, he had enough of his own problems; hero work was already rough on him as it was, so you kept things to yourself so he wouldn’t feel overwhelmed.

“Why does everyone always ask that when it’s already too late?”

The words tumbled uncontrollably from your mouth as your brows furrowed, a pained look clouding your dull eyes. Bakugou took a moment to process what you said before responding, eyes still locked onto you.

“What does that mean?” He already knew. You could hear it through the apprehensiveness in his voice, see it in the way he gritted his teeth anxiously. “Y/N, what does that mean?”

You glared at the blurry orange shape below you (were you crying...?), refusing to look Katsuki in the eyes. You were afraid of what might happen if you did. “I’m just...a waste of space.” There was a strange conviction to your voice, as if you’d made up your mind about something. Bakugou did not miss this. You, however, did miss the flash of fear in his ruby eyes as you spoke. “I cause problems for everyone I meet. I’m just a giant inconvenience to the world, and everyone would be better off without me. I don’t matter.”

“Y/N.”

“Would anybody even care if I was gone? I mean really, what difference am I making here?”

“Y/N, look at me.”

“It would be better that way. People wouldn’t have to deal with me anymore, and I don’t have to deal with all of...this.” You made some sort of gesture with your hands, your voice cracking as you held back hot tears. “Life. It’s just...it’s so exhausting. I’m so, so tired of having to wake up every day and drag myself out of bed and live. Nothing is fun anymore, and it’s hard just to breathe. I mean, seriously!? Come on, ya know? I didn’t ask for this, I don’t want to live like thi-!” You choked up, silent sobs wracking your shoulders as you buried your faced in your hands.

Across the table, Bakugou slid from his chair and made his way to you, feet thudding against the floor as he quickly closed the distance and kneeled down to your level. “I knew something was wrong, but...” He gently cupped your face in his hands, palms warm against your tear stained cheeks. “How long have you been feeling like this?”

You struggled to remember when this all started. Minutes turned to hours, hours to days, and days to weeks that blurred into months eventually. Time blended together, and you couldn’t recall the last time you felt able to get up in the morning without feeling like it was a chore. “I don’t know...” you answered honestly.

Bakugou rubbed his thumbs against your face carefully, a soft sigh leaving his lips as he brought you into an embrace against his chest. You didn’t fight it, instead leaning into his touch while crying, and the two of you stayed there for quite some time before Katsuki spoke up about how he was feeling.

“You may think that you don’t make much of a difference here on this earth, but that’s just utter bullshit, Y/N. You make a hell of a big difference to me and everyone else around you, and you would be sorely missed and grieved over. Don’t you dare for one second think that you’re not important or loved, because you are; you are so, so loved.”

“It doesn’t feel that way,” you cried.

“I know, babe. It’s hard to see it right now, I know. Your mind is telling you the opposite. But believe me when I say you are the most loving and caring person I know. You’re always reaching out to others, maybe even a little too much, and you’re always checking on them. You’ve made a world of difference to everyone. Your friends need you, your family needs you, and I need you here. And I would be devastated if anything were to happen to you.” It was hard to believe anything he said. You wanted to, you wanted to so desperately. But you weren’t sure of anything anymore, and the most you could do was cling to him like a koala and hope that what he said was true. “Let me in. Let me be there for you. Trust me, please.” You’d never heard those words from Katsuki before. They sounded odd coming from his mouth, like they didn’t really belong on his tongue. But you listened because it was Bakugou, and you wanted to trust him. You wanted to be able to feel okay, and he’d always been there no matter how much you’d tried to push him away.

“Okay,” you murmured against his chest, your tired eyes drooping shut in exhaustion. Your shoulders followed suit as they slumped downwards, and you gave in and crumbled into his arms.

“You’re not a waste of space. You’re extremely important to me, and I don’t tell you that enough. Every day when you leave for work, I miss you. I love when you come home and greet me, and I’m a better person because of you. Y/N, you’ve gotten me through shit I didn’t think I was going to make it out of. And you know what? We can do this. We can do it together, and it’s going to take a lot of work, but we will do it. You’re not getting rid of me that easy.” You couldn’t help but to smile at that. “And I know you feel like a burden, but you’re not. Your problems are never a bother. People are here for you, they want to help support you and listen to you. I want to support you. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. Everything’s gonna be okay. I love you.”

You couldn’t stop the fresh tears from falling, quiet hiccups taking over you as you cried into his shirt. “I love you too,” you managed somehow.

Bakugou rubbed a hand over your back, his chin coming to rest on your head as he sighed. “I’m not going to let you give up on yourself, no matter what.”

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou #katsuki #bnha #mha #tw suicidal thoughts #tw suicidal ideation #tw: suicidal thoughts #tw: suicidal ideation #tw: depression #tw depression

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whump-town · 3 years

Text

Poker Face

I thought about this on my way home from work today

talk about child abuse but not current

Hotch stands frozen in the hall, caught. Inside, surrounding his home office desk, Jack, Jessica, and Roy has spread out a game of poker. The picture frames he keeps on there on the floor and two of his law books stacked under Jack to make him tall enough to reach the table with the others. He knew Roy was over and thought he’d be safe in his office, as he made his way back to his bedroom, going to change into something more appropriate for the hot weather, Roy had spotted him. “Aaron! Join us!” And now he’s standing in the doorway of his home office waiting for Jessica to get him out of this or for Roy to remember that they’re not on speaking terms. That Roy hates him.

“Here,” Roy isn’t hearing Jessica’s poor attempts to get Hotch out of the game. “Shuffle the cards, Aaron.” The desk is waiting, held out to Hotch. He hesitates but Roy’s already taken this as a yes, that their game is simply waiting on Hotch to find a chair. “ You still remember how?” Roy asks.

Swallowing thickly, Hotch manages a nod. Silently stepping into the room and moving to go sit between Jessica and Jack but Roy calls his name and he’s instead directed to a chair beside the other man. “I--I remember how,” he answers as he takes the deck, slowly sitting down.

Hotch slowly shuffles the cards, focusing intently on each individual movement so that he won’t have to look at Roy as he speaks. He suddenly feels like a teenager again, sitting at the Brookes’ kitchen table trying to go unnoticed by them as they make their way around the table. Roy always asked everyone how their days were and no matter how low he dipped his head Roy would still come to him and ask “what about you, mouse? How’s that history grade?” Haley hated that nickname but he was just a mouse-- living within their walls and stealing their food.

“Good man,” Roy reaches over and pats his shoulder. Hotch can’t help it, he flinches away from the contact. It makes his face flush, his ear ring. Gentler, calmer so that each flex and extension of the muscles of Roy’s arm are visible Roy places his hand on Hotch’s knee. Waits, the four of them just sitting in the silence of the moment, until Hotch relaxes enough to keep shuffling the cards. “You’re alright, son.”

Son.

“I know,” he mumbles. “I know.” He can see the question forming across Jack’s brow, that little wrinkle. Sees himself for a fraction of a moment, that curiosity and the intelligence Haley always said both damned him and saved him. He wishes he could take it away and maybe he could have. But he lived and Haley didn’t.

He deals out cards, faintly processing the conversation being had around him. Roy starts up on some story he’s heard a thousand times. About the summer Haley and Jessica spent nearly every day by the river, wading out there until it was at their hips. It turns into a “how mom met dad” kind of story that has everyone laughing. Roy leaves out important details, parts of the story that Hotch holds his breath on. Just waiting for the moment Roy remembers that he hates that boy Haley met that day and that the best way to hurt Hotch is to bring up exactly what occurred.

That Hotch was fishing on the other bank and Jessica and Haley spent all afternoon laughing and splashing around.

Not that his father had passed out on the porch, no longer conscious to dictate each of Aaron’s movements as he pulled up potatoes in the garden. That he came down to the river for a moment of reprieve, to cool off before the next round began. To wash off the sweat and the dirt and Haley had splashed him. That she’d needed a whole summer to get the courage to speak to him.

Some dirty brat.

She just couldn’t recognize him without the flash of the fancy clothes he wears during the school year. Perfectly pressed and showered that way you never look twice at the bruises up and down his arms.

“He’s holding back on us,” Roy accuses.

The room shifts and Hotch looks up, caught in the headlights. “What?” His ears are ringing, his head pounding now he’s so tense. Just waiting for the shoe to drop, for Roy to remember what he took, that he’s nothing but a dirty rodent taking and taking. Never doing anything right.

Roy shakes his head, “you’re a damn good poker player, Aaron. Stop holding back.”

He can’t take it.

He can’t do it.

He stands quickly, knocking over a picture frame in his fumble. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Sorry, I have-- I have to use the bathroom.”

It’s so much easier when Roy hates him. He spent his entire childhood used to that hate, used to being spit at and loathed. For his existence to be summed up in whole by pain and misery. His father hated him and he could manage that, he could understand it and accept it. It had taken him time to learn to understand Roy’s love. The way he always asked about Hotch’s day and slipped money in his pockets when he went out. Even into adulthood, Hotch and Haley would leave and Hotch would find a ten or a twenty in the pocket of his coat. They’d shake their heads and mumbles “dad”.

Hotch called Roy dad. For twenty years Roy was a father to him, for even longer. Marriage just made it closer.

But this back and forth. Hotch can’t take the good days. He won’t flinch at the hateful cursing but then Roy turns to him like he used to with that knowing smile and tells stories. Always knows exactly what to say, always leaves out the nasty parts. About the bruises. The burns. Roy has created two versions of Aaron Hotchner and neither are factual. There’s the boy from so long ago and the murderer that stands here today.

“Aaron?”

Hotch looks at himself in the bathroom’s mirror and hears Jessica twist the doorknob.

“Are you okay?”

He clears his throat, “yeah. Yeah, I’ll be there in a second.”

She tries to think of something to say but comes up dry. “Okay,” she caves. “When you’re ready.”

He looks long and hard at himself, just stares. He’s still the boy that Roy saved all those years ago. The teenager that ran from Roy’s little store with shoplifted soup. The teen Roy caught smoking on the corner down the street. Children take candy bars, everyone takes candy bars, but no one’s ever stolen soup. Hotch had sat there on that corner as Roy spoke, the proof of his crime on his tongue and sitting in his lap.

“You’re hungry.” Roy said. “I’ll make you a deal. All the soup you want and you come be a cashier.” There are only a thousand things wrong with that offer and yet Roy had managed to make them all work. “After school and only after I’ve seen proof that you’ve completed your homework. I’ll pay you and you can have all the soup you can eat. Now toss that shit in the trash. My wife’s making vegetable soup. Trust me, it’s much better than cold tomato soup.”

Roy paid him for doing just about nothing, he managed a few hours after school, but Roy never let him stay at the store past hours. So he was really only working an hour, maybe two every day after school. Even if he wasn’t working Roy would pull up at the end of Hotch’s street and wait for him to come out, would take him home every weekend and away from that hell hole he knew as home.

Roy took him on vacations and if anyone asked Roy would always say Hotch was his-- “he gets his height from me, can’t you tell?”

At that age, he spent every waking moment thinking about being thirty. How his life would be so drastically different. He’d give anything to go back. So he could be Roy’s kid again, wedged between Jessica and Haley in every picture they took. Smiling around the healing bruises on his face.

A sore thumb.

He jumps when there’s a knock at the door.

“Dad?” Jack all but whines. “I really gotta go!”

Hotch wipes his face, forces himself back to life. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens the door. Jack’s standing right there, wiggling around in that signature potty dance. Haley would get a kick out of that, he’s going to be twelve in the fall and he still does the potty dance. “How many juice boxes did you have?” Hotch asks as he steps out.

“Four!” and the door slams shut.

Hotch shakes his head and readies himself to go back to the poker game. “Suck it up,” he whispers. Roy’s being nice, he’s got to enjoy that while it lasts.

But it reminds him too much of his father. Of his momentary, fleeting sobriety and the way he always believed him when he promised this time was for real. No more drinking, it was behind him. But now he’s not a kid, he won’t fall for that lie anymore. He stops in the doorway, just watches Roy make Jessica laugh. It’s only a matter of time. He’ll remember and everything will go back to normal.

The cycle will begin again.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner

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tetrakys · 3 years

Text

Eldarya A New Era - episodes 1 and 2

Let’s start with a brief recap and then my comments at the end.

Not much happens plot-wise, which makes sense since the first chapters are always about exposition and introducing the characters.

Episode 1:

We wake up in the new Crystal room and are swiftly taken by Huang Hua to the infirmary, we are perfectly healthy and have a chance to meet one of our old friends. Since we have been revered as a deity for the past 7 year sin the Crystal, Huang Hua has to make an announcement to the whole HQ saying that we are back into the living world, then we can finally explore HQ, meet old and new friends, get a new outfit and later attend a party in our honour. This is pretty much the plot of the first episode.

Episode 2:

In the second we have the chance of picking a Guard to belong to, Huang offered the Light one but Erika refuses because she doesn’t feel ready yet. We also get a new sword that Jamon has created for us and we can train a bit with him, afterwards we join a mission and go the forest. Once there we realise there is something wrong, as if some areas looked corrupted. We find a hurt companion and a very human shotgun bullet next to it and an evil-looking companion who attacks us causing us to end our very first mission at the infirmary, as usual. Once we are back on our feet we talk to Huang Hua about the bullet and realise that there is something she is hiding from us, then we help Ewe making a potion to save the companion. The companion got attached to us so we decide to adopt it.

Now a bit of info dump about the characters:

Huag Hua is the new head of the guard since Miiko went back to her family obligations. She is no longer the Phoenix apprentice although we don’t know why yet, she is in a romantic committed relationship with Ewelein who is still the head of the infirmary and member of the Light Guard.

Aleja and Sonse got married and left, Colaja joined them and she and Jamon broke up since he stayed. He was sad for a bit but then got over it. Kero left when most people left no one knows where he is. Ezarel left with Twilda and Mary Anne to try to make a new life for themselves. Memoria disappeared and no one knows what happened to it and all the dragon spirits. Karuto is still he chef and he became much nicer in time, also is food much better after fruits and vegetables in Eldarya became edible. There is speculation about his relationship with Feng Zifu who is still very polite but much older looking, however nothing confirmed yet.

Huang Chu is the new head of the Absynth Guard, she looks and acts kinda strict and matter-of-factly but she is also surprisingly open-minded, she encourages Erika to think with her own head and never blindly accept anyone’s order not even her own. She doesn’t get along with Mathieu at all.

Koori is a kitsune member of the Absynth Guard, she is funny, provocative and flirty. She wants to become friend with Erika and even flirts a bit. We see her both flirting with and mercilessly teasing Mathieu, not sure if she’s actually hitting on him or playing him, but this seems to be her normal behaviour.

Chrome is now the head of the Shadow Guard, he and Karenn are still together and while he is the official head it seems that she is his boss as usual so hierarchy is a bit blurry. The both became more mature in time, she is less into gossip and he went through a rough self-blaming patch, but he looks pretty happy right now, eating a lot and constantly making lame jokes, and she seems to have become a real fighter (everyone is recommending to never train with her).

Adalric is a sylph, Erika comments he kinda looks like a genie. He has constantly his head in the clouds forgetting all the most trivial tasks, he talks with the stars and the wind apparently.

Ophelia is this little girl we see for just a moment, we feel that she has the same aura as the Oracle, we hug her but she just smile and leaves. We are told she showed up after the White Sacrifice and no one actually knows anything about her, not even if she sleeps and eats and where.

Mathieu is a human who stumbled in a mushroom cricle about one year ago, he was sort of a recluse with no friends nor family on Earth, only thinking about fantasy and adventure, so he is very happy to be in Eldarya and couldn’t care less about going back to Earth. To his dismay the test assigned him to the Absynth Guard and he’s constantly hoping to be reassigned to the Obsidian instead. He’s the happy-go-lucky type but seems to also have a certain depth that we will hopefully find out.

Nevra is now a member of the Light Guard and Huang Hua’s right hand (he basically got Leiftan’s old job). He looks more severe and it seems that the events of S1 hardened him. He is back to his slutty ways but in episode he admits frivolous relationships don’t bring him happiness.

Leiftan got out of the Crystal with us but it took longer for him to wake up. He says that he needs to find himself and wants to put distance between him and everyone else, in fact he refuses to rejoin the Guard. When Erika asks him to train her aengel powers he refuses and says that he won’t ever touch a blade again and will never be responsible of further violence. Nevra can’t stand him at the moment because he thinks he is escaping his responsibilities.

COMMENTS:

Since people liked the expression I’m going to repeat it again, let’s address the elephant in the room first. (Guys “elephant in the room” is a figure of speech, it’s not a real elephant lol). No one mentioned who is the head of the Obsidian Guard, when Erika tries to ask one time the subject is swiftly changed and people seem to go out of their way to not go there. Everyone, including their grandparents, their cousins, neighbours and the cousins of their neighbours has figured out that the head of Obsidian is Lance, who is name dropped constantly. I know that there are some people who still like to live in denial, kudos to them. BV all but told me that Lance is coming in episode 3 before Christmas, the release pace is like MCL’s so I’m expecting episodes every second Wednesday of the month at this point, but we’ll see.

The situation with Nevra and Leiftan is heavy not gonna lie. I’ve only played the episode with Nevra so far and my heart broke in tiny pieces, but I want to savour the angst and enjoy the ride. I don’t blame either of the two, Leiftan went from traitor to saviour in a matter of what two days? He had not time to think about his choices and properly reflect on himself. I think it’s fair that the writing his giving him a bit of depth as a character now and not just using him for his abs and to kill and save people when needed. So yeah, I approve him going to therapy or whatever is going to do to achieve self-growth.

Nevra is a bit trickier, he spent one year moping in front of the Crystal every day, then moved on simply out of survival, and he’s well aware that the life he has now brings him no joy so one would think he would jump into Erika’s arms immediately? He is probably still very much hurting about everything that happened and he still has a fight or flight reaction about everything regarding it, his subconscious reaction when he saw Erika must have been DANGERDANGER RUN. Sleep around is easier because he doesn’t care and can’t be hurt again. While I can understand this, I also think it’s pretty cowardly and I would’ve liked to have given the reaction to get mad, to demand him to spend time with us, because yes he hurt but we spent 7 freaking years in a coma and no time has passed for us, the day before we were swearing love to each other and now this coldness. And yes I could’ve chosen angrier options with him instead of being understanding, but then my LoM would’ve dropped.

So what I think I’m trying to say is that I would like to have the option of getting mad without having devastating consequences on all the relationships. I know that the next episode is called Rage-something so I am hoping Erika will blow up. We are probably going to run into Lance, find out that he’s been forgiven and working with the Guard and go full violent mode. And hopefully she will get mad with the other guys as well. Homegirl needs to unleash since episode 13 AT LEAST.

Also, since Leiftan refused to train her, I’m expecting that Lance will at some point. Sweaty training sessions with a strict instructor who she kinda hates but also kinda thirst for... 😏😏😏 I have expectations now.

My general comment is that I like the writing so far, I see much improvement from the previous season although it’s too early to judge. I loved the shade thrown at Miiko and the Guard test, you can really tell the writer’s thoughts sometimes, he uses Mathieu to tell us what he thinks.

The one think I didn’t like is that, while I can understand most of the choices and the events of these two episodes, I don’t understand how the writing can justify Erika not looking for Ezarel if she were on her route. No time has passed for her, anyone would go looking for their lover in a situation like this, not just “oh well, he’s gone”. I know he can’t be brought back, but give me a good, logical reason in game. (Also, I hope to never see him and Valkyon as secondary non-datable characters because I would die inside).

About the other characters, I like Koori and Huang Chu, I don’t like Adalric, just personal taste, he seems to be the type of person who would be into yoga and spiritualism and it’s just not me at all lol.

#eldarya #eane #tetra eldarya rambling #a new era #eldarya recap

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voltagesmutter · 4 years

Text

Victor - Jealousy [Smut]

Victors actions after getting jealous of Lucien

NSFW

“Victor please talk to me,” You whined from across his office. Ever since he saw Lucien and you together at work, Lucien’s hand on your lower back as you walked from one side of the set to the other, he’d not spoken a word to you.

“Are you jealous because you know it’s only Lucien,” You pouted but a scoff stopped you talking.

“I am not jealous, I’m busy so if you have nothing of importance to talk to me about please leave,” He snaps, his eyes not moving from the tablet on his desk. Take back slightly, you leave without a word.

Normally after work you would visit your boyfriend's office and he would either drop you home or most of the time take you back to his house. But not today, after his harshness with you, you wanted to spend some alone time to yourself. The way he spoke to you reminded you of when you first met him, he was cold hearted and stern, very different to the Victor you knew and loved now. As you walked home your phone buzzed and saw Victor ringing you, but right now you were enjoying the silence and declined his call.

Once back at your apartment, you were greeted by Lucien who was entering his front door.

“Is everything okay, you seem down?” He quizzed, he knew you like the back of his hand.

“Yeah, it’s fine, just Victor being Victor,” You chuckled slightly, shoving your key in the front door.

“Ah yes, I sensed him at the filming, I think he dis-likes me,”.

“Well, we’re not talking at the minute, so I think he dis-likes me right now as well,” You sigh before pushing the door open.

“Bella, I’m always here if you want to talk,” Lucien smiles to you and you a mouth thank before shutting the door.

Why was Victor such a stubborn arse at times, all he had to tell was say why he didn’t want to speak to you, tell you what you had done. But no, rather than do that he’d rather silence you and treat you like an employee (Which yes you are but not when it comes to your relationship). He really knew how to piss you off.

You angrily threw together some dinner, it was very clear there was some built up rage coming from within as you hacked away at the vegetables. A knock distrubed you, you knew it would most likely be Lucien coming to check on you.

“Look, Lucien it’s very sweet of you but I really want to be alone right now” You yell, not bothering to answer but the knocks continue. Sighing you answer the door, a soaking wet Victor standing in front of you.

“Victor, ohmygod come in your soaked, what are you doing here?” You ask pulling him into your apartment. He doesn’t answer, instead his lips come crashing down onto yours.

“Don’t you dare ever do that again” He hissed against your lips.

“Don’t ever ignore me or disappear like that, I spent hours searching for you” He said between kisses, you feeling guilty about his worry.

“I’m sorry, I just got angry at you for snapping earlier,” You manage as his lips dominate yours.

“Yes, I was jealous, seeing him touching you, knowing when you're here alone he’s on the opposite side of the wall to you,” He growls before taking your bottom lip in his mouth.

“I’m yours Victor, only yours,”. Those five words make him snap and he carries you in his arms to your bedroom, placing you on the bed. His kisses grow more intense, his tongue pushing into your mouth as he lies you back, making quick work of both your clothes.

“I want you to scream my name, let everyone hear,” He whispers into your ear as his hand makes it down your body, emerging against your wet folds. You moan his name as a finger slips into your soaked core before another joins, thrusting into you. The sounds of your wetness and moans fill your small apartment, each time you moan his name he increases the speed before his fingers curl inside you.

“L-like that!” You moan as your back arches. You feel yourself tightened but his pace slows down, you know he won’t let you cum until you do what he asks.

“V-victor! Please,” You gasp between repeated moans.

“Who can only make you feel like this?” He groans, his thrusts increasing in speed.

“Y-you!” You cry but he slows down one more.

“Who is you,”. You know he will keep this up all night.

“You, Victor!-Oh!” You cried in pleasure as his fingers curled repeatedly hitting your sensitive nerve bundle. His name is the only thing you manage to say as you release your build up, coming all over all his fingers.

“Good girl,” He smirks before positioning himself on top of you and thrusts his member into you, giving you a few seconds to adjust before slamming his hips against yours. Only having just come down from your orgasm, the sensation makes you feel dizzy and your back arches of the bed, ‘victor’ falling from your lips again and again. His thrusts so deep into you, the bed below you slams against the wall. Victor grabs the headboard in one hand and continues pounding into you, watching you writhing under him.

“Victor!” You cried from the top of your lungs, scraping your nails down his back at his inhumane pace, his deepend angles and ability to hit your sweet g-spot on loop.

“That's it, scream my name,” He growls, but it’s barely heard over the noise of the bed being slammed into the wall. One final thrust and his name leave your mouth as such a volume you knew the other apartments would hear, but right now you didn’t care. The pleasure he was giving you made it hard to breathe. Your walls clenched to a new level of tightness around him, your body shaking and pulsing violently from your orgasm that seemed to last longer than before. The pure ecstasy on your face is Victor's undoing, and he spills inside you, ensuring to ride both of you down. The grip on your bed from him is so intense, the wooden headboard snaps, but for now you ignore it, your sweaty bodies entangled in each other.

“I’m sorry I made you worry,” You pant as he pulls himself out before collapsing on his back and pulling you to lie on his chest.

“I’m sorry I snapped, I’m just not use to feeling like this, I don’t want any other man to look at you or touch you,” He mumbles as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Victor, you broke my bed,” You finally say in fits of giggles.

“Idiot, well you can’t stay here now and it’s a waste to buy a new bed since your rarely here, I guess you’ll just have to live with me,” He states, knowing you have no choice over the statement.

“I think I’ll like that,” You mumble before peacefully napping on his chest.

When you awoke, Victor wasn’t there, you stumbled off your broken bed grabbing your nightie and throwing it on. You heard voices outside and went to investigate, there in the corridor was Victor and Lucien.

“Yeah, she’s moving out tonight, so I guess you won’t be seeing her all the time now,” Victor said with a hint of domination.

“Victor?” You call and open the door, smiling at Lucien.

“Victor was telling me your moving out,” Lucien says with a sad smile and you nod.

“Yeah we’re talking again now,” You giggle slightly as Victor wraps his arm you, showing off his claim to you.

“Yeah, I heard,” Lucien replies and your face goes a deep shade of red. You round up your goodbye and head back inside.

“Oh god, was we that loud?” You ask your red still red much to Victors delight.

“We? No. You? I think they heard you down the road,”.

“Oh god, how embarrassing,” You cry.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about, I wanted you to scream my name, let everyone know your mine,” He responds holding you in his arms. By everyone, you clearly knew he meant Lucien.

“Now, lets get everything packed up and moved so we can go home,” He adds before softly kissing you.

Enjoy my work, visit my masterlist here.

#mlqc fanfic #mlqc smut #mlqc #mr love queens choice victor #victor smut #mr love victor #mlqc victor #mr love lucien #mlqc lucien

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almorica · 3 years

Text

Conditioning

T, fresh precure, soular/westar, 1,287 words

it’s not easy to accept you’re beginning to break through what’s been drilled into you since birth, even if you’re not alone in it.

ao3 / ffnet

“You’re making me feel restless just watching you,” Soular announced, still patiently resting his back against the smooth vegetation forming the walls of Northa’s room. His crossed arms had started out motionless, but one hand eventually started tapping against the opposite arm.

Westar, pacing vigorously across the embellished rug in the center, glared at him before tossing up his hands. “But there’s no space in here, and I can’t relax somewhere she might pop up at any second!”

“She did that back at the mansion, too.”

“That was different!!”

No, Soular replied silently, it wasn’t. “Well, she is out, and if you’re tired of those weights of yours you can try something I brought here to read.”

Stopping, Westar sighed, hung his head, and crouched down. “I want to be done with this~ I could be spending this time going somewhere interesting or perfecting my doughnut making technique, but no! Why doesn’t she even have a kitchen?!”

Soular tilted his head. “Doughnut making technique?”

Westar perked up immediately. “That’s right! Kaoru from the park café taught me some of his secrets. I barely had the time to start before our place got destroyed. I’m going to be a master when we have somewhere to make them again; you’ll see.”

Faced with that optimistic grin, Soular could only knit his brow and tap faster.

“What?” Westar asked.

“You do know what we’re here for, don’t you? What we’ve been doing all this time?”

Straightening up to his full formidable height, Westar frowned. “Are you trying to say something about me?”

“I’m trying to say I think your priorities are getting out of order. Do you believe that knowledge will be of any use to Labyrinth? To Lord Moebius?” The words sounded surprisingly stony to even the one saying them.

“I can do more than one thing at once even if you can’t!” came Westar’s obvious deflection.

“That’s not the point.” Soular turned his head, his impersonal gaze moving to the broad green leaves of one of Northa’s plants. “Northa has this fascination of her own, but it’s all to move Lord Moebius’ plan forward. You want to do those things because you enjoy them. It wasn’t part of our design to develop a desire like that, and you need to wake up from it.”

Westar didn’t answer at first; while refusing to look at him head on, Soular could see him clench and unclench his fists. There was a thread of betrayal wound through his tone when he spoke again. “You don’t have the right to criticize me about that. It’s not like you’re as cold as you used to be!”

“I’m the same as ever.”

“You are not! You barely acknowledged I existed when we first got our assignment. Any time I tried to put our heads together, you rejected it. But sometime after we lost Eas, you started acting like we were a team.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. I realized it would be more efficient to work together, like they did.”

“Did you have to Switch Over with me instead of by yourself?”

“...”

“Did we have to start coming out together? Did you have to start letting me stand so close to you?!”

Soular clenched his jaw. “What I find necessary for our success has nothing to do with this.”

“It does! We were never supposed to have friends either, but that didn’t stop you from acting like one!”

“I never…” Soular faltered. “I never thought of you as a friend. Only fools try to find happiness in others,” he added, lacking the bite he tried to add to it. He couldn’t believe a few words managed to unnerve him. Had he really slipped that much?

Thoroughly unsatisfied, Westar strode toward him and slammed his palms on the stalks on each side of Soular’s head. It snapped his eyes back to the other’s face for the first time since the start of their argument. The intense gaze they met was paralyzing, only allowing his own arms to unlock and drop toward the tiled floor.

He remembered that look: it was as serious as Westar had ever been. When they were after Infinity he’d been impressed by it, but being the target made him feel like it could see right through him.

“You’re finally looking at me,” Westar said. Soular was painfully cognizant of simply swallowing in response. “Now be honest. You think about more than what’s expected of us sometimes, too.”

Soular’s chest throbbed with every heavy heartbeat. It became harder to think the longer his eyes were locked on that determined sky blue. The room seemed even smaller now, like it barely extended beyond those powerful arms. Westar didn’t appear affected at all until his eyes narrowed, and even then it wasn’t clear why.

Westar leaned a few centimeters closer. The shared air between them warmed, and his volume lowered. “You don’t get to judge me if you’re the same way.”

His breathing shallow, Soular wracked his brain for the right response. Any response. A lie, or the truth — either would work. He couldn’t find the words there or on the face too close to him, no matter where he looked. “Westar—”

Like saying his name was the same as pulling a trigger, Westar’s eyes dropped to Soular’s mouth and he shot forward, head tilting at the last instant. In a split second’s anticipation Soular managed to close his eyes, feeling Westar crash his lips into his own. With his sight cut out he had a heightened awareness of being forcefully pressed against the stalk he had his back to, but that was the least of his worries in taking his breath away.

When their mouths parted the first time, Soular anchored him by tightly gripping the pale cyan hair at the back of his neck. Westar’s hands moved to the thin fabric around Soular’s waist. He held their bodies so firmly together it was as if they could become one person able to lay their doubts to rest, and Soular made a sound that was swiftly covered up by another kiss. His heart tightened when they inhaled at the same time so close together, barely taking in any air at each opportunity.

It was overwhelming. An embrace so fierce he could break wasn’t comfortable, but he was too desperate to continue for any objections. He knew once he did there was no going back to this for either or them, and he wasn’t ready to let go of the gratification just yet. Neither of them had any experience in it, so it was awkward and strange and not always pleasant. It was still something, and he wasn’t sure how long he’d wanted it.

Eventually, his breath ran too short. “Westar,” he rasped again against the other’s lips, who recoiled as expected. His hand instantly felt lonely as it untangled from Westar’s hair and passed over his golden earrings on its way back to him.

“I’m not like Eas,” Westar began, chest rising and falling as noticeably as Soular’s own. He hadn’t completely stepped away, but he’d drawn back from physical contact and dodged meeting his eyes. “My life belongs to Lord Moebius. Nothing matters more than accomplishing his goal.”

“Spoken like a true denizen of Labyrinth.” Feeling lightheaded, Soular hadn’t lifted any part of himself from where it had been roughly shoved back against the wall, but his voice had returned to normal. The warmth drained from him with each impassive word. “I apologize for questioning you.”

Westar’s forehead creased and he closed his eyes. “That’s better.” They opened again long enough to shoot a straightforward glare at Soular before he turned his back. “Everything for Lord Moebius.”

“...Everything for Lord Moebius.”

#fresh precure #soular #westar #southwest #I haven't written something mildly spicy since 2015. anyhow I'm gay #my fics

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lilyharvord · 4 years

Text

The Secret Correspondence of the Dancing War - Part 5

A/N And we have arrived as the end children. While it saddens us to wrap this up, I think Regina (@elane-in-the-shadows) and I are super happy with it. Here is the final letter to wrap up the epilogue that we decided we knew how to write better than Victoria.

v. Kilorn

[Editors note, Gabriel Jacos: While this letter was written ten years ago, Coriane and Shade Barrow Calore have agreed to share it to preserve it. For context, this letter was written some three weeks after the fourth attempt to kidnap them failed in the year they announced their abdication from their father’s birthright. For more information on the topic of Calore abdication, see section: treaties N/M ii to v v. GJA/. Both were moved to a remote location with their parents known only to very close family. For this reason, there are no omissions in the letter and there is little more to be said other than the few words they asked to be shared: it is their favorite letter that their uncle wrote to them, and he was right about their mother cheating at cards. For further reading on the topic of the Dancing War, see section: letters EITS i to LV v. GJA/]

November 30 345

Cori and Shade,

I hope this letter finds you safe, and while I applaud both of you on your ability to drive your dad up a wall (a pass time that I really enjoyed too when I was younger), I do ask that you try to refrain from making your parents decide that the front lines are easier to handle than you two. For starters, the cabin roof is not a spring board for you two to practice jumping off of, and the woods out back are not a place for you to practice creating infernos Cori. I know how boring it can be to sit around under protective custody, but just know that we all miss you both very much. My office isn’t the same without you two running around playing your games, and distracting me with your laughter. Hopefully all of this blows over soon and you two can be back in time to celebrate the holidays, or at least your birthday, Cori. Your grandmother is already preparing, and she’s counting you and your parents in for dinner. And yes, Shade, I did remember to remind to your grandmother that you hate vegetables. She has promised to include something different for you (although I can’t make any promises on whether or not your mom forces you to eat some).

I’m sure your parents will want a break from you trouble makers when you get back, so I assume I’ll have to shoulder the burden of keeping you little demons under control. While I’ll be pretty busy handling the treaty with the Prairie fiefdoms and reviewing or implementing whatever crazy battle plans your parents come up with, I’m sure we’ll still have plenty of time to wander the gardens on the grounds. Carmadon has been tending to the patch of lavender your planted with him, Cori, and you’ll be pleased to know that it’s doing very well given the storms we’ve had lately. I plan to restock the pond once it thaws too, so hopefully we can spend some time feeding the fish and the ducks in the spring if you two promise not to terrorize them again. I doubt that will happen though. You two know how to terrorize things more than your parents do.

Speaking of your parents, I heard you two have been asking more and more about your namesakes… and about the past. Cori, I heard that you snooped around in your dad’s office and found a stack of letters addressed to his brother who you’ve never met, and only got caught because you put a paperweight back in the wrong place (which is a very small error for someone your age and you should be prepared for a recruitment letter from Elane Haven… I may have mentioned the story to her).

While it’s not my business to share with you the entire story, I can say that much of what occurred left very profound impacts on your parents and the rest of the people you know. Many of us were not always close or willing to share a room with each other. In fact, only recently has your mother been able to speak with Ptolemus Samos for longer than ten seconds. And while your parents probably celebrated the day both of you displayed your abilities, there is still a deep fear about what occurred in the past to people like you. Norta was not always the States, and people like us did not always enjoy the freedoms we do now. I’ve heard your mom tell you both numerous times to count your blessings, and I have also heard your dad tell you not to joke about wanting to kill each other, and they’re right to say those things. While you might not have understood why they both get so nervous when you joke like that, you have to know that they are still healing all these years later. I didn’t want to be morbid in this letter, given what happened a month ago, but as you two get older and grow up, I feel as if you need to be reminded of what we all fought for. Your mother and father both lost brothers to the war, as you now know, but the extent of that loss probably has not been shared with you two. I encourage you to ask them about those people, but be prepared to hear things you might not like. We all did bad things to survive and hurt a lot of people to get to where we are today. You two are certainly a blessing with everything that has happened in our lives, but one that could never have occurred twenty years ago.

The world is still changing, and people are still growing (even me and your parents). I know you both have gotten angry with them for returning to the front numerous times once you were older, but you have to understand that they are still desperately trying to make the world a safer, better place for you two to grow up in. We all are. We want you and your cousins to have better lives than we did. We want you to have the chance to be kinder and more naïve than we were. We don’t want you to have to fight wars that don’t belong to you, or to have enemies because their parents were our enemies. We want you to be able to walk down the street without having to look over your shoulders like we did and still do at times. We want you to be happier than we were.

I know this is a lot to digest, and I’m sure you’re more than little uncomfortable. But that is okay. As your Uncle Julian has told you numerous times: the past and the truth must make us uncomfortable if we are to change the future. There’s a reason that quote was in my first official address. My hope, and your parents’ hope, is that the wars end before you’re both adults. That way you don’t have to think about entering the military, although I have been told not to discourage either of you from wanting to do that, you’re supposed to be completely free to make that choice. But once again, we want you to be able to make a choice.

Now that I got all of that mushy gushy stuff out of the way that I know you’re both making faces at while you read, I do have some advice for you as your favorite uncle.

1. If you do plan to jump off the cabin roof, make sure you have enough snow to fall into (4-5 feet should do the trick), don’t pack it though, keep it loose and try to avoid any icy patches.

2. Your father is terrible at protecting his left side, so if you want to get him (and kick his butt) during a snow ball fight, I recommend sneaking up on his left.

3. If you really want your mother to not be mad at you for jumping off the cabin roof, give her a kiss on the cheek and remind her that she used to jump off your grandparents’ porch with me when we were your age.

4. If you’re going to play wrestle, no biting, or scratching. Shade, don’t pull on your sister’s hair, and Cori try to refrain from pummeling your brother into the ground.

5. No abilities in the house. Wait for your parents to supervise you please. (Shade I heard you and your mother had a good time making thunder snow the other week, don’t try it on your own unless you want a beating from her that will keep you from sitting down for a month)

6. If you two do decide to ignore #5 go someplace where you parents won’t see you and have a really, really good lie planned for when they find you.

7. When your dad says he’s busy, he’s secretly crying for help and distraction. I recommend dragging him outside to play or putting on your best begging faces. Maximum amount of bothering should get him to move.

8. Ask your dad to play “the game”. It involves all the lights being off and being as quiet as possible. You two normally struggle with that but I’d like to hear how it goes.

9. Your mother cheats at card games. Always cheek her sleeves before and during playing.

10. Don’t tell them I told you to do any of this.

I’m going to keep missing you two the entire time you’re away. I can’t wait to see you again. Don’t grow more than a few inches while you’re gone (this is directed mostly at you, Shade.)

Give each other a hug for me (squeeze twice just like I do). I love you both.

@elliemarchetti @inopinion @scxrletguardsdawn @freaky-freiday @petergrantkavinsky @mareshmallow @farleydiana @king-maven-calore @whatsup-gorls @delilahlbard @evangeline-of-montfort @redqueenetwork

#the secret correspondence of the dancing war #*cries causes it over*#you know i had to go hard with this part #MY FISH BOI DESERVED BETTER THAN HE GOT #red queen #glass sword #kings cage #war storm #broken throne #post broken throne #can't believe Victoria did him like that #one throw away line for the fish boi #no I wont stand for it #he would have doted on Mare and Cal's kids like they were his own #Also did you see what we did there??? With kilorn being the final letter #the boy who couldn't read or write is the one who does the final summary #I love that shit #cyclical and pretty just the way I likeit #marecal #mare barrow #cal calore #kilorn warren #diana farley #coriane barrow calore #shade barrow calore #I had a 1/2 a mind to add a part about them dropping the barrow out of their name #that would have taken too much time though #plus it would have just been him smacking them for something mare or cal woudl do #give me domestic as fuck marecal or give me death

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angisam · 3 years

Text

Challenge Zimtober

Day 17. Home

Day 1

Previous <—> Next

Here we go. the beginning of the future arc and the incredible experience that Dib had

Oko belong to @owosa and thanks for tranlated it <3

Dib awoke to the strident sound of an alarm. His ship's alarm to be precise.

Confused and with a racing heart, the first thing he did was fall out of bed in a mess of blankets as he desperately tried to get to his feet. When he managed to free himself, he went running to navigation to see what happened. The red lights and the sound of the alarm didn't help reduce his panic.

-"... Holy shit" It was the only thing he could express when he saw the dark mass with an aura of distortion around him. A wormhole was in front of him and his ship was being drawn straight into the center of it.

This was normally not a problem, many ships were designed to use those as shortcuts to travel between the universe. Too bad his ship wasn't one of those ships designed for hyperspace travel.

He knew there was no turning back, the hole was going to suck him in and the chances of the ship not disintegrating were particularly slim but he wasn't going to give up that easily, HA! of course not. He took the controls of the ship and tried to divert its course by turning the power of the thrusters to the maximum. He only managed to win just two seconds before the hole swallowed him completely.

...

The ship stood still, dancing through space aimlessly, slowly but surely moving away from the wormhole where it had emerged just seconds before. It had all happened too fast to even think other than that for some reason, his ship endured the journey.

Dib was too stunned to congratulate himself on a good job building the ship, so he just sat in his seat about to throw up. It was an indescribable sensation,as he got back to his senses.

We can guess that molecularly separating to rejoin was not a pleasant thing.

He sincerely thought that possibly he had some fused organ.

He approached the commands to find out where the hell he had appeared only to discover that he had run out of power. Well, all was not lost, he simply had to wait for the energy to recharge again…

Oh well, nothing to do anymore. He went back to his small room at the back of the ship and got himself into bed. He had no control over the ship until it reloaded. If he was going to die, let him do it well rested.

Upon awakening, the lights were on which meant that the ship simply reactivated itself. He didn't know what else to do but take pride in building a ship capable of withstanding hyperspace travel without even realizing it. Hah!

He once again went to navigation to locate in which coordinates he was now.

….

The universe would have to be laughing at him, he was in the damn Milky Way fortuitously close to the solar system, HIS solar system. He literally could have ended up anywhere in the HUGE universe and he had to end up right in the last place where he vowed not to return.

He was just about to change course when he stopped short. Perhaps he could take this opportunity to pay someone a visit. The thought of it left a bitter feeling in him for a bit and made him feel guilty to the point of simply wanting to go ahead with his plan to turn around, but his sister's words echoed in his memories and he resisted the urge. He breathed in and out strongly setting course for planet Earth.

The trip was short and he was easily able to locate the area of the planet where he wanted to land. Everything was going pretty normal until he entered the exosphere and noticed that something was wrong. The atmospheric stabilizer was not responding, SHIT. Which meant that the appropriate speed had to be manually managed to penetrate the ozone layer and well the problem with that was the possibility of bouncing if it did not reach the appropriate speed or that the ship would scorch a bit if it was overshot and the option of go back was no longer available. Well, surely the ship would survive although the landing would be… well rough at best. The decision was made by putting on whatever seatbelt the pilot's seat had.

Sure enough, the landing was horrible but at least it survived the impact and he hoped the ship had suffered no more than he had in mind. Although the biggest surprise was received when he got off the ship.

Before hitting the ground, the only thing he saw was

dense vegetation, so the last thing Dib expected was an immense empty city under that vegetation. Actually that was a lie, the LAST thing he expected to find was a pack of dogs surrounding his ship.

-"....wtf" he said simply, his mind still trying to connect the loose ends. A huge black Great Dane that was almost as high as Dib approached the human and cocked his head to one side as a clear gesture for him to follow in the indicated direction. He stepped back in distrust. Several dogs approached Dib and began to direct him, some chewing on his clothes and others at him.

They pushed insistently with their heads for him to follow.

"Hey! Stop! What are you doing?! " For every step the dogs tried to take with Dib, he took another two backwards, the absurd struggle going on for a while until the Great Dane looked closely into his eyes as a warning growl escaped his throat. He raised his hands in somewhat uncomfortable surrender to have this beast so close to him. After the canine victory, the Great Dane turned around, resuming his march.

It was there that he discovered PAK.

...wait what?!

A closer look made him realize that all the dogs had a PAK. An Irken PAK.

Oh no, it couldn't be true, the earth had been invaded by the irken armada and they used dogs to dominate humans. Dogs, human’s great and only weakness!. HOW COULD THIS HAVE HAPPENED?!

WAIT. Perhaps there were other simple explanations for this, what about humans? Where were them? It was flat daylight and the street was empty…. They were slaves working in mines drawing resources! And this city was just abandoned! It must be that! If not, why were there dogs with PAKS in an empty city?.

They made him get into a vehicle, leaving the dogs behind except the Great Dane, who sat next to him. During the whole journey he did not move an ear. Dib forgot what it was like to be uncomfortable in a quiet room with someone else, even if he was with this...thing, and spent the whole way fiddling with his hands in an attempt to focus his attention on something.

The fragrant sunlight was replaced by the grim, artificial light from the tunnel they entered. They didn't know where they were taking him but he would be prepared for anything.

The car stopped and without him being able to argue much, Dib was taken out of there, being accompanied by the dog-thing to a large room where there was… By Jupiter. In front of him was an immense irken Control Brain.

His knees trembled and he fell to the ground as he slammed a fist on the ground dramatically.

DAMMIT! THEY DID. THEY CONQUERED EARTH! He was only a couple of years off the planet and they took advantage of his absence to conquer it without him knowing.

Without him noticing, several mechanical arms began to scan him and when they finished, a small holographic figure appeared in front of Dib, that due to his small dramatic act, did not immediately took notice.

"...OKO ?!" And then it all made sense. "YOU HAVE INVADED THE PLANET WITH YOUR DOGS?!"

Oko's hologram tilted her head slightly. "Invading Was Never My Duty." she answered calmly with the same monotonous tone that he remembered.

"Oh... Then why are there ghost towns ?!" There was a moment of silence in which Oko tried to understand what the human in front of her was referring to.

“I Detected A Ship With Various Irkens Elements Approaching The Planet. I Ordered The Humas To Stay On Their Home To Protect Them When I Calculated Where You Would Crash.”

“… Oh well, that also made a lot of sense”…wait a second “Why should humans even listen to you?!"

"Because It Is My Duty" The hologram sensed the growing confusion of the human and there was a movement behind her. In one of the screens of the room, several images began to appear, which left the man stunned.

Happy walking families, futuristic structures, vast plains of vegetation among much more.

"No way... it’s that...the Earth?"

“Yes, Human-Dib. I've Been Taking Care Of It For More Than 7 Centuries.”

“Wha- Wait!…. 7 centuries?! How is it possible?!, it can't be true, I-... "

“I win~"

A spark ran through his

shoulder and he quickly turned his neck towards the voice he had just heard. There she was, leaning on his shoulder, half lying in the air. Alma.

"ALMA?!" In an instant, her face full of pride and glee was replaced by sheer disbelief

"DIB?!"

Dib also began to make faces of utter disbelief as she tried to utter words that she didn’t know how to choose or could express. He looked at Oko while pointing at Alma, but she made no sign of understanding what was wrong with him. He went back to the Floating Alma and she just shrugged.

After the day he was having so far and for the sake of his sanity, he just shut up and let it go for now.

"Your Arrival Is Certainly Unexpected And Clearly Interesting. This May Be An Important Chance To Convince Your Paternal Unit To Stop Exploiting Resources Of The Planet In An Unsustainable Way.”

Was his father still alive?! Well, at this point he didn’t know why he continued to be surprised.

The talk with “Control Brain” Oko had been intense, he still had too much to assimilate, too ...he still didn't know if all this could even be real. Either way, Dib was following a dog named BFT 222750 who was taking him to his new apartment until a few days passed and Oko determined that everything was in order with him.

Great, he was going to be quarantined.

"So ... can you see me?" Alma had appeared next to Dib, moving in the air in time with him. There was also that.

"Are you real?" he asked.

"I think so, are you?” Dib pinched his nose with his fingers and sighed.

"I don't know, I'm still trying to get out of the shock of all this to think about it...” Dib looked at the specter of his friend. She looked just how he remembered her.

"You are dead?”

"Did you expect me to be alive after more than 700 years?" He could hear a slight laugh coming from the ghost and for a second, the stress of the whole crazy day was gone.

"Welcome home, Dib"

#Invader zim #invader zim au #challenge zimtober 2020 #oko #from owosa #dib #alma

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obscureoperations · 3 years

Text

@ayylovley So I wrote the thing, Sorry it took a minute, It was a fairly long day at work. So, Martin with a brash and sassy reader. Pettyness?! Oh I'm freakin living! I started it in the morning and finished it up just now. Didn't get too far into the nsfw bits but it's there. All characters in this are 18+ despite any initial immaturiy.

Martin had to bite down on the insides of his cheeks just to keep his lips from cracking a smile. You had such a blunt way of speaking sometimes, he often wondered if your words always came out how you intended. What he thought of as honest others might call flat out rude-- sassy depending on their perspective. But you weren’t rude at all, not to him at least. In fact you were his only friend. You always had his back, you defended him when no one else would.

The look on Mrs. Bellini’s face was one of pure confusion. She didn’t know how to take your statement, her mouth continued to gape. “I hardly think that’s any of your business Ms…”

“Y/n” You replied with a shrug as you leaned against the counter, sparing a glance over to your friend. Martin kept his head downcast as he fiddled with the edge of a paper bag. You knew him well enough by now, you could see he was trying his hardest to keep his composure.

“I was only pointing out that Martin here isn’t being lazy, and that maybe you should keep your opinions to yourself. I mean you don’t work here..do you? Surely you must already be retired.”

You watched as she began to turn impossibly red, lips forming a thin straight line. “I’ve had enough of this… Cuda! Cuda?! Get out here you old goat.”

Martin starts to panic, but you shoot him a playful wink, before loudly popping your gum.

The man in white emerges from the back room, in a huff anxiously rolling up his sleeves. “What on earth is going on out here?! Mrs. Bellini… why are you---” His eyes cut over to you as you lean against the counter. “ Why hello child. I had no idea you were coming in, how is your schooling? ”

Cuda had become used to having you around. In his opinion, you were a good influence on the boy. You were Christina’s friend, you worked with her at the salon, you met Martin when you were visiting her one day. You were smitten, he was absolutely gorgeous in your opinion-- he seemed almost afraid to look at you. You ended up staying for dinner, and you couldn’t even attempt to hide your blatant leering. You tried your best to keep up normal conversation, his responses were all one word answers. You were certain that he already couldn’t stand you… You did have the tendency to ramble. Your personality could be somewhat abrasive. But you had a good heart, you just had no reason to lie. Why shouldn’t you say what’s on your mind. People were funny, they never said what they meant. Life was too short for all the pretense. It was only during that thirty minute span, that you wished you could tone it down a little.

Christina assured you after dinner “Martin is just shy, I don’t think you said anything to offend him” “Really?” “No.. of course not. Besides, why do you care?” You shot her a glance, her hands immediately shot to her mouth stifling a laugh. “No way… Martin?!” You sighed shaking your head, images of the beautiful boy you had only just met swirling in your head. “Yeah… well good luck with that. Martin’s is a sweet boy, but he’s a bit off.”

She went on to tell a little about their family history, what Cuda believed about Martin. It seemed to be a pretty heavy topic to delve into right away, but Christina wasn’t convinced of any of it. ‘’ It’s just silly, a stupid superstition. God, sometimes I hate being born to this family. Sometimes, I even think I'm going to start believing all the bullshit!” You shook your head. “That’s what it is. It’s all nonsense. Hey, does Cuda always talk to him like that?” “What do you mean?” I mean come on, all throughout dinner, it was like he was trying to make him want to leave.” “That’s just how he is-- he’s stuck in his ways.” “It’s not fair, to Martin. Why would he even take him in if his only intent seems to make him feel bad?” Christina opens her mouth to speak but refrains.

If anything you came to the conclusion that Martin really needed help, but no one seemed to care, or take him seriously. To be honest, it was already making you upset. You honestly knew nothing about him, but you already decided that he needed a friend. Perhaps you returned home at just the right time. “Geez, you already like him that much?” Christina laughed. “I- I just don’t like when people are treated like that.

And so that was it, you decided to be his friend, whether he liked it or not. It only took a few more visits for him to warm up to you-- you really didn’t give him a choice. For the most part, you tried to ignore your initial attraction to him. You just wanted to be his friend. You wanted to protect him-- but from what you were not exactly sure. At times you could see it, the subtle way he would look at you, gaze lingering on your lips before he would blush and look away. It was cute in all honesty. You just had to give him time. It didn’t take too much longer. The two of you were talking out on the porch, when he finally found the courage to kiss you.

“Are you going to sit here and let this.. Woman insult and scare away loyal customers?! It’s bad for business… you’re here to--!”

“Mrs. Bellini, I'm sure you must have misunderstood. Y/n here is a very kind and intelligent young lady-- I know that she did not mean to insult you! I can assure it.”

The older woman’s eyes cut over to her once more as you gaze at her innocently, before shooting a wink. Her back goes rigid, and you can see her visibly inhale, she settles for placing down her items on the counter before shooting you an icy stare.

“I would like a duplicate receipt for my order please” She says stiffly. Martin stands and begins to ring her out, barely concealing the smirk on his face. You were perfect.

It was about a quarter to six and you were already at Martin’s place, you were having dinner with them once again. Cuda would be home by seven, leaving a half hour till you all sat down to eat. You had helped Christina for a bit in the kitchen, mostly washing and prepping the vegetables. The second that Martin got home, your attention was all on him-- Christina could barely conceal her look of amusement. “ Go on then… You guys have about a half hour. But after that, I'm leaving for the rest of the night, I’ve got a date with Arthur.”

If you had to say, it took no longer than two seconds for Martin to quickly usher you upstairs. He swung the door open quickly, the bells were silent due to using the scotch tape like you had told him. His lips were on yours, pressing your back against the door, you couldn’t help but sigh against his willing mouth. His hands flitter beneath your shirt briefly, drawing your lower lip between his teeth. “You’re perfect…” He whispers.

“No, you are..” You retort. Briefly bring your lips to his neck, biting down. You can feel him shudder against you. Absolutely precious. You repeat the action eliciting another soft moan. “Careful..” He whispers. He didn’t want you to leave a visible mark. It had happened once before, he was so panicked, he knew Cuda would eviscerate him if he saw. You simply reach in your bag throwing him a tube of concealer. “Here, use this”

“ It’s alright…” You whisper kissing him once again sweetly, fingertips entangling in his hair. One thing you could never get tired of was kissing him. His lips were absolutely perfect. So warm and plush against your own, they always left behind a lingering sweetness. Everything about the boy seemed to be warm and inviting, especially the small content sighs against your lips-- he touches you as though you were the most precious thing in the world. That was something that you weren’t quite used to. But with Martin everything seemed to flow so naturally. He accepted your quirks, even admired them. Your brashness, the neverending sarcastic quips. You were honest with people, not afraid to call them out. You were the realest person that he ever knew. His lips move to rest at your collarbone, hands resting at the hem of your shirt. “Here take this off…”

#Martin 1977 #john amplas #george a. romero #vampire #horror #movies #requests #asks

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

TLTNL- FELIX FELICIS

Remus helped her out at once, speaking while trying to pull his thoughts together at the same time to somehow get an answer. "I'm wondering now if Voldemort has, cursed objects?" It didn't seem right, as even if he did, what could be the significance of that in relation to Harry surviving the prophecy?

"Your thinking that necklace that cursed Katie belonged to him?" Sirius tried to understand where he was heading, his mind on an entirely different matter, like how all this tied back to Voldemort wanting to go after Prongs for any significant reason.

"You think Voldemort tried to slip him one over the summer, and failed? That's what could have started all this?" She prompted, her mind lingering on their old headmasters injury. It was hard to believe he'd fall for such a ruse though, and she still felt like they were missing the real significance of what was going on here.

"If Malfoy's supposed to be helping with something, maybe Harry's right, and he's trying to get one of these treasures of his into the school somehow. For a reason that can't be good." James uneasily agreed.

"And it walked right in the front door because of me," Harry said, but the nausea wasn't quite right for that feeling, he was sure they weren't on the mark now.

"We could be entirely wrong," Remus quickly disagreed. "When he was young, he kept treasures on his person, I'm sure he treated those like a secret. Why hand them out now?"

"Because now he knows how to curse people," Harry rebutted far harsher than he meant to, but he refused to let this theory slip away from him, back into the recesses of his mind. He was right, and he wouldn't let this one go.

When no one else offered anything, he reached eagerly for the book, but Lily held it to her instead. "It's getting late, we should probably stop for dinner before anyone else nearly gets murdered."

The dower comment wasn't much to wet their appetites, but no one disagreed either. Harry picked restlessly along his meal, not even realizing what he was eating. This really was one of his more mild years, he had to admit, and yet with each passing page he could feel something terrible lurking on the edge of his mind, waiting for him to let his guard down and spring upon him.

It was as noticeable to the others as it was the guilt they felt for seeing it. Sirius had tried in vain several times through the meal to catch Harry's attention and put him on a lighter topic of conversation, but it was clear he would not be pulled from whatever unhappy thoughts he was lingering in. They almost wished it wasn't his turn to read, so that they could try and put off a little longer and put him in some sort of good mood before he started, but in his preoccupation he hardly even seemed to recognize his audience as he began.

Harry had Herbology first thing the following morning. He had been unable to tell Ron and Hermione about his lesson with Dumbledore over breakfast for fear of being over-heard,

"They didn't wait up for you this time?" James demanded in mock outrage far louder than was called for, but he was still as determined as the others to snag Harry's attention.

He barely glanced up, muttering about their prefect duties that night in answer before plowing on.

but he filled them in as they walked across the vegetable patch toward the greenhouses. The weekend's brutal wind had died out at last; the weird mist had returned and it took them a little longer than usual to find the correct greenhouse.

Ron quietly said what a scary thought it was, the kid You-Know-Who, as they took their places around one of the gnarled Snargaluff stumps that formed this terms project, and began pulling on their protective gloves. He didn't get why Dumbledore was showing him all this. It was sort of interesting, but what was the point?

Harry agreed he wasn't sure as he put on his gum shield*, but Dumbledore had promised it would help him survive, though his words were now slightly contorted.

"I'm sure they can still understand you with that in your mouth," Sirius rolled his eyes, he found them bulky and extremely annoying to talk through. It didn't help Moony had once given him one on his birthday as a hint.

Hermione earnestly pointed out how fascinating it all was, it made absolute sense to know as much about Voldemort as possible. How else would they find his weaknesses?

"I'm not disagreeing," Lily said grudgingly.

"It wouldn't kill the man to get to the point a little faster though," James huffed, he really felt like this was all dragging a bit.

Harry changed the subject and asked how Slughorn's party had gone.

Hermione said enjoyable for the most part. He prattled on a bit about all the famous people he knew, but he also invited a few of them, like Gweong Jones, Captain of the Holyhead Harpies.

Harry beamed, and didn't wait for anyone to ask why, "I hope Ginny was at that one then, she'd have loved that! It's her favorite team!"

Professor Sprout came over then to tell them to get to work, Neville already had his first pod.

"I demand a reason I need to fight with a plant rather than chat with my friends, the second is definitely more useful for my life," Sirius huffed.

They looked around; sure enough, there sat Neville with a bloody lip and several nasty scratches along the side of his face, but clutching an unpleasantly pulsating green object about the size of a grapefruit.

"Was he working all by himself?" Lily asked, impressed. She often did as well, and especially in that class it could prove difficult with some of these larger plants, this one especially. It had taken her at least the first twenty minutes of class to manage this, and she was sure from this conversation they hadn't been talking that long.

Harry had already agreed he was and moved on.

Ron quickly agreed to appease her, but waited until she'd walked away before muttering to Harry they should have used Muffliato.

"She still would have noticed you aren't working," Remus disagreed.

"Yeah, then she would have likely even taken away points, putting a spell up trying to distract her," James agreed with a sigh.

Hermione at once, like she always did, looked intensely cross at the thought of the Half-Blood Prince and his spells.

Lily smiled privately to herself, really wondering at what Hermione's reaction was going to be if she learned the origins of that book. She really wasn't even sure if Harry did, though she'd very likely inform him at the end of the year when the teacher would no longer be there, for whatever reason she still wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Now she changed the subject by telling them to get to work.

They all took deep breaths and then dived at the gnarled stump between them.

It sprang to life at once; long, prickly, bramble like vines flew out of the top and whipped through the air. One tangled itself in Hermione's hair, and Ron beat it back with a pair of secateurs; Harry succeeded in trapping a couple of vines and knotting them together; a hole opened in the middle of all the tentacle like branches; Hermione plunged her arm bravely into this hole, which closed like a trap around her elbow; Harry and Ron tugged and wrenched at the vines, forcing the hole to open again, and Hermione snatched her arm free, clutching in her fingers a pod just like Neville's. At once, the prickly vines shot back inside, and the gnarled stump sat there looking like an innocently dead lump of wood.

"Lovely things, aren't they," James wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"I remember I once tried to feed some snotty little third year into one for asking why I was in the wrong common room that morning," Sirius smirked. "What?" He demanded of Lily's agitated look. "He came out with a dozen of those little pods, I really should have gotten a thanks!"

Ron casually suggested he wasn't planning on putting one of these in his garden as he wiped sweat from his face.

"No Lily," James said at once when she opened her mouth.

"Oh, but, the pods-" she began to wheedle.

James purposefully wouldn't look into her pouting face, knowing he'd cave in an instant to her ever growing garden idea.

Then Remus helpfully tacked in, "actually, I wouldn't mind helping prune this one, perhaps even give it a snack from time to time. See how Padfoot likes it," he finished with an obvious look at his friend, who scowled and pressed his hand to his heart in betrayal.

Harry still couldn't be distracted by any of this. Not his memories of wrestling a plant, his family having just a nice conversation around him, even Ginny's briefly coming to mind had faded just as quickly so that he wasn't aware of anything anymore than the gaping hole in his mind where the answer to Voldemort, to everything this year should sit. He wanted to skip right past all of this, find Dumbledore's next lesson and keep going with that and come back for this mess later, but he knew the others would never agree.

Hermione held the pulsating pod at arm's length; Harry handed over a bowl and she dropped the pod into it with a look of disgust on her face.

Professor Sprout called to them not to be squeamish and pop it fresh.

Hermione decided to continue their interrupted conversation as though a lump of wood had not just attacked them,

"What do you mean that's not perfectly normal?" James politely asked.

Lily couldn't tell if he was kidding that time.

about Slughorn's parties, and how Harry had been invited to the Christmas one. Slughorn had specifically asked her to check Harry's available dates to be sure he could come.

"I will demote her to passing friend along with Neville if she didn't lie!" Sirius said at once.

That did get Harry's attention, he never really did like it when they made cracks at Hermione like that, even in defense of him. That was his friend after all, so he swiftly returned, "you'd have done the same thing if one of these two had annoyed you so much recently."

Sirius contemplated that for a moment, before nodding along and saying, "true, revenge and forcing them to live it with me at the same time. Alright, I'll take it back."

"Good," Harry chuckled. "I'm the only one allowed to demote my best friends from anything, and it won't ever be happening."

They were all just pleased Harry had finally reacted normally to something!

Harry groaned. Meanwhile, Ron, who was attempting to burst the pod in the bowl by putting both hands on it, standing up, and squashing it as hard as he could, asked angrily, that this was just another party for Slughorn's favorites?

Hermione said yes, and the pod flew out from under Ron's fingers and hit the green house glass, rebounding onto the back of Professor Sprout's head and knocking off her old, patched hat.

"Well she can't say you aren't working anymore," Remus said with chipper.

Harry went to retrieve the pod; when he got back, Hermione was saying, she wasn't the one to name it the Slug Club.

Ron repeated the name with a sneer worthy of Malfoy.

"Ugh," Harry heard those around him mutter, but he honestly couldn't have put a better comparison at the time. He was sure it was unintentional on Ron's part, but it didn't mean Harry enjoyed it either. He braced himself anyways, getting the feeling Ron may be getting just a touch on his nerves of late, it definitely wasn't declining the more the Slug Club was brought up.

He insisted the name was pathetic, and so were these parties. Was Slughorn going to make her and McLaggen King and Queen Slugs?

James couldn't help but snort a bit at that, it was quite comical. Incidentally, didn't that make him and Lily heirs to that throne?

Hermione was turning scarlet now as she said they were allowed to bring guests, but if he thought it was so stupid she wouldn't bother asking him!

"Ha, that's brilliant!" Lily chuckled. "She certainly put him in a spot, deciding not to share this until after he'd badmouthed it all."

"Now if he goes, it'll be obvious he's only doing it for her company," James agreed, finding Hermione quite clever, though that wasn't anything new.

Harry suddenly wished the pod had flown a little farther, so that he need not have been sitting here with the pair of them.

"What's with you?" Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Unlike you two privileged souls, these were my two best mates having this right in front of me, not one of them whom you didn't have to pick sides for," Harry finished with a huff, feeling it was obvious.

Remus and Sirius exchanged a look before deciding it was lucky no one in their group had ever succumbed to this problem.

Unnoticed by either, he seized the bowl that contained the pod and began to try and open it by the noisiest and most energetic means he could think of; unfortunately, he could still hear every word of their conversation.

"I actually wanted details of that," Sirius smirked.

"Like cracking it against Ron's head," Remus agreed with a sly smirk that Harry didn't need to question, Remus wasn't picturing Ron.

Ron had a very different tone now as he confirmed she was going to ask him?

Hermione sounded more angry than anything as she said yes, but if he'd rather she take McLaggen, she would.

There was a pause while Harry continued to pound the resilient pod with a trowel.

Ron said in a very quiet voice he wouldn't prefer that.

Harry missed the pod, hit the bowl, and shattered it.

He hastily used the 'Reparo' charm on it, poking the pieces with his wand, and the bowl sprang back together again. The crash, however, appeared to have awoken Ron and Hermione to Harry's presence.

"Darn, and it was just getting good," Lily sighed, actually looking a bit disappointed. It would be nice to finally have some definitive answer so these two would quite jumping around the subject. This had been a very good opportunity for such a thing, and she hoped they picked it up when Harry wasn't around.

Hermione looked flustered and immediately started fussing about for her copy of 'Flesh-Eating Trees of the World' to find out the correct way to juice Snargaluff pods; Ron, on the other hand, looked sheepish but also rather pleased with himself.

Hermione took the pod from him, explaining they were supposed to be using something sharp to pierce the pod.

Harry passed it all to her while he and Ron both snapped their goggles back over their eyes and dived, once more, for the stump.

It was not as though he was really surprised, thought Harry, as he wrestled with a thorny vine intent upon throttling him;

"Can't think of a better description for dealing with this," Remus snorted.

he had had an inkling that this might happen sooner or later.

"I'm glad, otherwise you'd be more daft than Lockhart of all things!" Sirius smirked.

But he was not sure how he felt about it.

"That's a bit fair, awkward transitioning phase and all," James shrugged.

"Don't know what you're talking about, Harry's had time to transition since at least his fourth year," Sirius rolled his eyes.

"It's one thing to be thinking it, it's another to witness, and still yet another to see in action. Have yet to see that last one," Harry sighed.

He and Cho were now too embarrassed to look at each other, let alone talk to each other; what if Ron and Hermione started going out together, then split up? Could their friendship survive it? Harry remembered the few weeks when they had not been talking to each other in the third year; he had not enjoyed trying to bridge the distance between them. And then, what if they didn't split up? What if they became like Bill and Fleur, and it became excruciatingly embarrassing to be in their presence, so that he was shut out for good?

Harry sighed as both options were laid out like that. He wished someone would tell him it would all work out and neither extreme option was going to happen, but he also couldn't help but appreciate no one was giving him another false security. They just had this awkward look on their face, like they knew better than to say anything, so he just ran his hand through his hair to lay it flat and concentrated very hard on that sense of peace he could still cling to when he thought of his friends, confident that would never fade.

Ron suddenly yelled in triumph, pulling a second pod from the stump just as Hermione managed to burst the first one open, so that the bowl was full of tubers wriggling like pale green worms.

The rest of the lesson passed without further mention of Slughorn's party. Although Harry watched his two friends more closely over the next few days, Ron and Hermione did not seem any different except that they were a little politer to each other than usual. Harry supposed he would just have to wait to see what happened under the influence of butterbeer in Slughorn's dimly lit room on the night of the party.

Harry grumbled a bit more and shifted restlessly in his seat. He wasn't truly worried, that wasn't the right feeling, he may even be happy for them. There was just an anxiety over their relationship he couldn't quite place, like it would come back and bite him hard eventually.

In the meantime, however, he had more pressing worries.

Katie Bell was still in St. Mungo's Hospital with no prospect of leaving, which meant that the promising Gryffindor team Harry had been training so carefully since September was one Chaser short. He kept putting off replacing Katie in the hope that she would return, but their opening match against Slytherin was looming, and he finally had to accept that she would not be back in time to play.

"Oh, the poor thing!" James sounded as remorseful as if he were just receiving the news all over again she was in the hospital.

Harry did not think he could stand another full-House tryout. With a sinking feeling that had little to do with Quidditch,

James looked confounded, like it was hard to imagine anything that didn't relate back to Quidditch in some way. His questioning eyes sought out Harry's, who merely shrugged. "If it doesn't explain all the reasons, I will. Mostly though I thought it was obvious, I don't want another full-House tryout spectacle."

"I guess," James muttered, hoping that game hurried up already.

he cornered Dean Thomas after Transfiguration one day. Most of the class had already left, although several twittering yellow birds were still zooming around the room, all of Hermione's creation; nobody else had succeeded in conjuring so much as a feather from thin air.

"That spell always seemed more like a charm to me, conjuring things rather than, well, transforming them," Remus grumbled.

He outright asked him to be on the team, and Dean said of course at once.

Over Dean's shoulder, Harry saw Seamus Finnegan slamming his books into his bag, looking sour. One of the reasons why Harry would have preferred not to have to ask Dean to play was that he knew Seamus would not like it. On the other hand, he had to do what was best for the team, and Dean had outflown Seamus at the tryouts.

"So it's only fair then," James quickly agreed, and Harry gave a lackluster smile back.

Harry said that was settled then, and told him when the next practice was.

Dean cheered, and at once muttered about going to find Ginny to tell her the news.

Harry huffed a bit, and the others thought he was still so put out about his team no one noticed his mutters about him having to tell Ginny this first.

He sprinted out of the room, leaving Harry and Seamus alone together, an uncomfortable moment made no easier when a bird dropping landed on Seamus's head as one of Hermione's canaries whizzed over them.

All five of them got a snort out of that, perhaps they weren't quite over their foul attitude of his last year.

Seamus was not the only person disgruntled by the choice of Katie's substitute. There was much muttering in the common room about the fact that Harry had now chosen two of his class-mates for the team. As Harry had endured much worse mutterings than this in his school career, he was not particularly bothered, but all the same, the pressure was increasing to provide a win in the upcoming match against Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, Harry knew that the whole House would forget that they had criticized him and swear that they had always known it was a great team. If they lost. . . well, Harry thought wryly, he had still endured worse mutterings. . . .

"There's the bright side," Lily half managed a giggle. She'd never really be invested in this sport for all the trouble it caused, but the clear stress it was putting on her son couldn't be played off either, so she was happy to see he was trying to look up all on his own.

Harry had no reason to regret his choice once he saw Dean fly that evening; he worked well with Ginny and Demelza. The Beaters, Peakes and Coote, were getting better all the time. The only problem was Ron.

Harry had known all along that Ron was an inconsistent player who suffered from nerves and a lack of confidence, and unfortunately, the looming prospect of the opening game of the season seemed to have brought out all his old insecurities.

Harry sighed and fidgeted with the pages, it was clear his apprehension was mounting. She almost wished he had picked McLaggen now for the team, even if it would have caused extra strain between him and Ron, surely his best friend would have gotten over it and faced facts there was a better player? She sometimes worried he was too loyal, and look where that had gotten her until the last straw.

After letting in half a dozen goals, most of them scored by Ginny, his technique became wilder and wilder, until he finally punched an oncoming Demelza Robins in the mouth.

"Foul," Sirius said in what he clearly thought was a helpful tone of voice while they all winced.

Ron profusely apologized, while Ginny called him a prat for giving her a split lip.

Harry zipped over and fixed it with the Episkey spell.

"Was that really safe?" Lily couldn't help but scold him. "You'd only had the spell done on you once, you really should have someone explain that to you more before you go using it on others." She only realized after the fact her words weren't helping anything, his mouth seemed permanently set in that uneasy frown, so she soothed her tone and finished with, "but it was very sweet of you, and I'm glad you learned it."

Then he turned on Ginny and told her not to call Ron a prat, she wasn't Captain.

Ginny merely said he'd seemed busy, and someone needed to.

Remus snorted in surprised agreement.

Harry forced himself not to laugh.

"You're a better man than some," James clucked his tongue and was very clearly trying not to do the same, while Sirius and Remus were having no such restraints.

Overall it was one of the worst practices they had had all term, though Harry did not feel that honesty was the best policy when they were this close to the match. He made sure the team heard his thoughts of them flattening Slytherin tomorrow, and the rest left with good spirits.

When he and Ron were alone in the locker room, Ron slumped into his seat and called himself a sack of dung.

Harry insisted he was no such thing, he was the best Keeper. He only had some problems with nerves.

He kept up a relentless flow of encouragement all the way back to the castle, and by the time they reached the second floor, Ron was looking marginally more cheerful. When Harry pushed open the tapestry to take their usual shortcut up to Gryffindor Tower, however, they found themselves looking at Dean and Ginny, who were locked in a close embrace and kissing fiercely as though glued together.

"Urgh, not something you ever want to walk in on," Remus said with a stank eye at the redhead in here, who was blushing faintly while James wasn't bothering with anything except a smirk. Sirius had never been any better, nor subtle, hardly ever waiting until he was alone to parlay in the same practice.

Harry really didn't need to ask, nor was he even paying it much mind.

He felt like screaming, though at no one in here. His fist clenched so tight the ring upon it actually felt strained on his finger. He'd never felt such a powerful feeling in all his time here, not even in his memories, and for once he read on looking for some kind of name to put to this newfound surge.

It was as though something large and scaly erupted into life in Harry's stomach, clawing at his insides: Hot blood seemed to flood his brain, so that all thought was extinguished, replaced by a savage urge to jinx Dean into a jelly.

"I knew it!" Lily smirked.

"Knew what?" Harry demanded, still fighting back that burst of outrage.

"You've been paying more attention to Ginny for ages, and now you're out and jealous," she finished with a giggle.

"Jealous?" Harry tried to snap in protest, but it came out as more of a question.

"I'm not that surprised," Remus shrugged, "at least how he's been acting in here. He's always paid much more mind to her than he ever seemed to in the past, and I always wondered about the change."

"I am," James was still frowning lightly between the book and his kid. "Just hours ago you were still referring to her as Ron's little sister. Where's this coming from?"

Sirius suddenly burst out laughing, but he was watching Harry in a weary kind of way. "Well this could be all kinds of awkward if it keeps going, even if it's just as far as it was with Cho. You were thinking how not fun it would be to have your two best friends dating, try your best friends little sister."

"Sorry Harry, but none of us can really compare, seeing as none of us have sisters." James agreed.

Sirius thoughtfully rubbed his jaw for a moment before offering, "I don't know, if one of you had made a play at my brother, I'd think you were pretty barmy."

"Well darn," Remus sighed, "there goes my love life."

Harry let them make a couple more jokes of it, but then decided to go back to the moment. His ring still felt heavier by the moment, and he was more sure than ever they were down playing this moment. Jealous didn't even feel like a strong enough word, though he was now convinced his mum was right. There was more to it though, so he pressed on eagerly, to explore this new feeling that was very rapidly developing.

Wrestling with this sudden madness, he heard Ron's voice as though from a great distance away shouting to get their attention.

Dean and Ginny broke apart, Ginny looking around without much care to demand what he wanted.

Ron shouted back he didn't want to find his own sister snogging people in public!

Ginny snapped back this was a deserted corridor before he'd come butting in.

"I mean, she's not wrong," Lily snickered, clearly still finding this funnier than anything. She was very pleased to finally have this one out in the open, Ginny had been seeking Harry out for ages and he'd been reciprocating more and more as her youth vanished. Clearly it had just taken the right circumstances to make Harry realize what she'd been seeing.

Dean was looking embarrassed. He gave Harry a shifty grin that Harry did not return, as the newborn monster inside him was roaring for Dean's instant dismissal from the team.

"You've got Hermione as your conscious, now a monster ruling your jealousy, you're just made up of all kinds of things. Wonder what else is going to develop when you ask out Ginny?" Sirius smirked and shook his head as he continued to pick apart jokes for all this. They'd been wanting to know Harry's new fancy, and now they had it, this was going to be hilarious until he moved on.

Dean tried to coax her away, but Ginny told him to go on, she wanted a word with her dear brother.

"Prongs isn't her brother," Sirius said, clearly mystified.

"Shut up Padfoot," James rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

Dean left, looking as though he was not sorry to depart the scene.

Ginny gave her long hair a toss over her shoulder before squaring off, telling Ron it was none of his business who she went out with or what she did with them.

"I'd be paying real close attention to this Harry," Remus mock whispered, "you could be Dean next."

Harry blushed faintly, but the reaction wasn't near as severe as they would have thought. Perhaps this jealousy would come and go even faster than they were thinking then, for him to have so little a reaction.

In all honesty, Harry couldn't get too worked up over this teasing like he had the last time with Cho. He couldn't even put it into words, it just felt natural to him, like watching his parents together. He wasn't even that worried about Ron's response, like the idea occurring to him now said he should be. So he'd take whatever ribbing they or anyone else offered and go with it.

Ron defended yes it was, he didn't want people thinking his sister was a-

Ginny drew her wand threatening, demanding a what exactly?

Harry automatically told Ginny her brother didn't mean anything, though the monster in his chest was roaring approval with Ron.

"Glad someone approves of what's going on, even an inner-" James subtly elbowed Sirius to get him to stop that one before it went too far.

Ginny flared up at him now, shouting Ronald's problem was that the best kiss he'd ever had was from their Auntie Muriel!

"Oooh," James sucked in air backwards through his teeth. "This just went from awkward to flat out bad."

"What does Ginny think she's doing, throwing that around," Remus agreed with an uneasy wince.

"She's proving a point, and standing up for herself," Lily said just a touch defensively. "Her brother's being awful to her, trying to control her like that."

"He's telling her to get a room, Ginny's the one who escalated it, calling him out just because he's never had a girlfriend." Sirius scowled back.

"Both of them are being rotten siblings to each other, they need to take a step back," Lily sighed.

"Without their mum around, I doubt either of them are going to have the good grace to do that," Remus muttered. Harry privately agreed, and it was making him anxious, thinking of having to take sides in that.

It was pathetic, the way he kept hoping Fleur would give him a peck on the cheek every time she passed! If he went out and had a bit of snogging himself, maybe he wouldn't find it so disgusting when others did it!

Ron pulled his wand too, Harry stepped in between them.

All five of them were looking like a bomb was about to go off now, not one of them wanted this to keep escalating, but they were all sure it would.

Ron was now trying to get a clear shot at Ginny around Harry, who was now standing in front of her with his arms outstretched.

"Eesh, I don't even want to know what he's going to throw at her," Sirius winced hard, very aware of the variations he'd set on his brother for multiple lesser things. He wished he could push Harry out of the way of this one.

Ginny cared nothing as she carried on Harry had snogged Cho Chang, and Hermione had Victor Krum! He was the only one acting like a twelve-year-old when it went on! Then she stormed away.

Harry rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck. That was most definitely not how he'd wanted his feelings for Ginny to flourish...if he did at all. Now that he'd so vividly seen Ron's vehement reaction to someone being with his sister, it even turning into a brawl, Harry's calm assuredness from moments ago vanished just like Ginny had from that corridor. What had he been thinking, Ron would would be okay with this?! He'd murder him!

"Well, I can find a bright spot in this for Lily," Sirius continued pleasantly like nothing more had happened. "Ron's going to hook up with Hermione just to prove a point."

"Was that supposed to make me feel better?" Lily scowled at him. "I'd want them to get together because they want to be, not for Ron to show off to his sister. If Hermione finds out this is the reason Ron finally made a move, I'll very much doubt she'll be happy."

"Can't win anything with you woman," Sirius rolled his eyes.

James noticed Harry was still looking rather queasy, and had a wash of sympathy for him. Sirius and Lily had been nonstop having a go at each other since he'd started dating her. It had gradually turned into the friendship they'd developed, but James didn't envy Harry's position of having to pick a side in that argument, something that never had, and fingers crossed never would happen in his life. He was still half convinced Harry's sudden spurt of feelings for Ginny would fade though, so he pushed that away and was more than happy when Harry forced himself to keep going.

Harry quickly let go of Ron; the look on his face was murderous. They both stood there, breathing heavily, until Mrs. Norris, appeared around the corner, which broke the tension.

Harry quickly led them both away before Filch himself could catch up.

A small girl was standing in the middle of the seventh-floor corridor, and jumped in fright and dropped a bottle of toadspawn as Ron snapped at her to move.

Harry hardly noticed the sound of shattering glass; he felt disoriented, dizzy; being struck by a lightning bolt must be something like this.

Harry still felt that way, as if his mind were being split in two. One part kept replaying that scene, like he should have been paying much more attention to it, instead of letting the rest flit off to corridors, to imaginations he'd never share with Ron...or memories?

It's just because she's Ron's sister, he told himself. You just didn't like seeing her kissing Dean because she's Ron's sister. . . .

But unbidden into his mind came an image of that same deserted corridor with himself kissing Ginny instead. . . .

James whistled in surprise his sons mind was already going that rout then, he'd never even escalated that far with Cho, especially not right off the bat.

"Ginny slip something in your evening dinner?" Sirius burst out laughing at Harry's now scarlet face, that was not something he'd ever wanted to share with them. "Where's all this coming from?"

"I really think it's just been building for ages," Lily said clinically as she kept eyeing him as well. Harry kept his eyes trained on the pages instead, well aware how much every one of them were still looking at him.

"Let's hope it doesn't take him another two years to get his act together and do something about it then," Sirius chuckled.

The monster in his chest purred . . .

James snorted slightly that kept being brought up, but really he was still assessing all this, while Harry fidgeted more than ever with that ring on his finger. Was it like before, with Cho? Whoever his wife was should be on his mind now, with some new love interest present, or was it him trying to recall Ginny as that wife? He wasn't sure, and he still felt more sorry for Harry than anything, especially if it wasn't Ginny. This just got more awkward the more he thought about it.

but then he saw Ron ripping open the tapestry curtain and drawing his wand on Harry, shouting things like, 'betrayal of trust'. . . 'supposed to be my friend' . . .

"No second guessing at all what Ginny might say eh?" Sirius chuckled.

"Apparently he's still hoping that celebrity crush is alive and well," Remus agreed.

Ron abruptly intruded to demand of him if Hermione had snogged Krum?

Harry didn't really answer, as his mind supplied the idea that yes he did think so,

"Do you really think they got to know each other that well?" James more than happily jumped topics, though was sad Hermione wasn't actually here so he could asses a real answer out of her.

"I was under the impression they didn't have too much to do with each other after the second task at least, but at the same time, they've been writing since, so," Lily trailed off with a shrug. She could see how it would anyways.

however, Ron seemed to gather the worst from the look on Harry's face. They climbed through the portrait hole into the common room.

Neither of them mentioned Ginny or Hermione again; indeed, they barely spoke to each other that evening and got into bed in silence, each absorbed in his own thoughts.

Harry lay awake for a long time, looking up at the canopy of his four-poster and trying to convince himself that his feelings for Ginny were entirely elder-brotherly.

"What you were imagining just now had nothing to do with siblings," Remus told him like he'd gone daft.

"At least I'm relieved he is trying to talk himself out of it," James gave an uneasy chuckle. "I really can't see how this one's going to go."

Harry scowled at the two, looking twice as offended as anything they'd said about Cho, but still no one could tell on what level. Paternal like, or more?

They had lived, had they not, like brother and sister all summer, playing Quidditch, teasing Ron, and having a laugh about Bill and Phlegm? He had known Ginny for years now. ... It was natural that he should feel protective . . . natural that he should want to look out for her . . . want to rip Dean limb from limb for kissing her... No ... he would have to control that particular brotherly feeling. . . .

Ron gave a great grunting snore.

She's Ron's sister, Harry told himself firmly. Ron's sister. She's out-of-bounds. He would not risk his friendship with Ron for anything. He punched his pillow into a more comfortable shape and waited for sleep to come, trying his utmost not to allow his thoughts to stray anywhere near Ginny.

"I'm already convinced his dreams didn't follow the same pattern," James said, but with an affectionate look at Lily who blushed faintly but refused to acknowledge that one.

Harry awoke next morning feeling slightly dazed and confused by a series of dreams in which Ron had chased him with a Beater's bat,

"Ron doesn't even play that position," Sirius chuckled.

"We don't need Trelawney to pick that one apart," Remus rolled his eyes.

but by midday he would have happily exchanged the dream Ron for the real one, who was not only cold-shouldering Ginny and Dean, but also treating a hurt and bewildered Hermione with an icy, sneering indifference. What was more, Ron seemed to have become, overnight, as touchy and ready to lash out as the average Blast-Ended Skrewt. Harry spent the day attempting to keep the peace between Ron and Hermione with no success; finally, Hermione departed for bed in high dudgeon, and Ron stalked off to the boys' dormitory after swearing angrily at several frightened first years for looking at him.

"Merlin, one little spat with his sister and Ron thinks his life is ending," James said with more sympathy than anything. At this point in his life he'd been pretty frustrated the girl of his dreams still had no interest in him, even when she wasn't hanging around Snape anymore. He hadn't always been at his most pleasant either, though he liked to think he'd never gotten this bad.

"He's being a ponce," Lily scowled for this attitude no one deserved. "If he has a problem, even one he doesn't want to talk about, taking it out on everyone else is inexcusable."

To Harry's dismay, Ron's new aggression did not wear off over the next few days. Worse still, it coincided with an even deeper dip in his Keeping skills, which made him still more aggressive, so that during the final Quidditch practice before Saturdays match, he failed to save every single goal the Chasers aimed at him, but bellowed at everybody so much that he reduced Demelza Robins to tears.

"Bloody hell, just go snog a girl already and be done with it," Sirius said in exasperation as this pent up feeling only grew worse.

"Sirius, that really should not be your answer to everything," Remus rolled his eyes in exasperation, before grudgingly saying, "but in this particular case I can't help agreeing with him. Ron needs to work this out, and if that's what does it I'm all for it."

Peakes flew into his face and shouted to leave her alone! He was two-thirds Ron's size, but was carrying a heavy bat.

"Yeah, that would be a sight," James muttered, hoping Harry stepped in soon to calm his team before it went that far.

Harry bellowed at them that was enough, especially at Ginny, who he had seen glowering in Ron's direction and, remembering her reputation as an accomplished caster of the Bat-Bogey Hex, soared over to intervene before things got out of hand.

He told the rest of the team to go and pack up for the night, and waited until they were out of earshot before confronting Ron. Telling him that best mates they were, if he didn't stop this he'd be kicked off the team!

He really thought for a moment that Ron might hit him, but then something much worse happened: Ron seemed to sag on his broom.

"Maybe this'll finally help," Lily honestly tried to put some hope into her voice. "He needed someone to give him a swift kick in his arse."

"I can't see how Harry attacking him now will really help," Sirius disagreed, thinking what Ron really needed and wishing he could help just like he'd tried for Moony all those years ago, still occasionally tried to do no matter how much Remus protested and refused to participate in whatever blind-dates he'd set up.

All the fight went out of him and he simply resigned on the spot.

Harry fiercely said he didn't accept! He could save anything when he was on form, he just had a mental problem!

Ron demanded he was being called mental?

"He's sure acting like it lately," Remus agreed.

Harry agreed he was right now.

They glared at each other for a moment, then Ron shook his head wearily. He conceded Harry couldn't find a new Keeper so soon, but when they lost the game tomorrow, he was resigning.

Nothing Harry said made any difference. He tried boosting Ron's confidence all through dinner, but Ron was too busy being grumpy and surly with Hermione to notice.

"I'm sure she loved that," Lily grumbled, wishing to swat him upside the head for still taking this out on the wrong person.

Harry persisted in the common room that evening, but his assertion that the whole team would be devastated if Ron left was somewhat undermined by the fact that the rest of the team was sitting in a huddle in a distant corner, clearly muttering about Ron and casting him nasty looks.

"Ouch, yeah, probably not helping," James winced, but he was at a loss of anything to help Ron as well. If winning the Championship last year didn't do it, he didn't know anything that would encourage Ron now. Maybe quitting really was best for the poor guy, even if they had to endure McLaggen because of it.

Finally Harry tried getting angry again in the hope of provoking Ron into a defiant, and hopefully goal-saving, attitude, but this strategy did not appear to work any better than encouragement; Ron went to bed as dejected and hopeless as ever.

"Credit for determination," Sirius offered, which did about as much good in distracting Harry as he'd been trying to do to Ron.

Harry lay awake for a very long time in the darkness. He did not want to lose the upcoming match; not only was it his first as Captain, but he was determined to beat Draco Malfoy at Quidditch even if he could not yet prove his suspicions about him. Yet if Ron played as he had done in the last few practices, their chances of winning were very slim. . . .

If only there was something he could do to make Ron pull him-self together . . . make him play at the top of his form . . . something that would ensure that Ron had a really good day.

...

And the answer came to Harry in one, sudden, glorious stroke of inspiration.

"Oh Harry, you don't!" James groaned at once.

Harry went wide-eyed and innocent, fighting to keep his expression under control and not give himself away.

"That's cheating that is, getting him onto the team is bad enough. What's the point of playing Quidditch if you won't rough it," Sirius scowled, trying hard not to say the words too venomously to Harry, but he really didn't appreciate what he was hearing.

"I've never cheated," Harry said, his defensive voice pure and helping well to smother the light in the back of his eyes. "I never will."

The two exchanged a calculating look, but really weren't sure what Harry was on about then. They kept themselves quiet and just let it play out then.

Breakfast was the usual excitable affair next morning; the Slytherins hissed and booed loudly as every member of the Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall. Harry glanced at the ceiling and saw a clear, pale blue sky: a good omen.

The Gryffindor table, a solid mass of red and gold, cheered as Harry and Ron approached. Harry grinned and waved; Ron grimaced weakly and shook his head.

Lavender gave him a cheerful greeting, saying she knew he'd be brilliant!

Ron ignored her.

"Irony in its purest," Remus muttered. "Ron's finally getting all the attention he ever wanted, and he hates every minute of it."

"I really thought he'd be loving it, especially the way he gloried in it last year. He really can't decide what he wants about anything this year," Harry agreed with a sigh, his mind not really on Quidditch now.

Harry offered him a variety of drinks, but Ron just said anything without a care as he started moodily on a piece of toast.

A few minutes later Hermione, who had become so tired of Ron's recent unpleasant behavior that she had not come down to breakfast with them, paused on her way up the table.

She asked how they were feeling, her eyes on Ron.

Harry said they'd be great once they got some breakfast, and handed Ron a glass of pumpkin juice.

Ron had just raised the glass to his lips when Hermione spoke sharply at him not to drink that!

Harry was fighting back more every moment the smile trying to tug across his face. It wasn't helping the others jumped in surprise and looked on in concern now for what was happening.

Both Harry and Ron looked up at her.

Ron asked why not, but Hermione was now staring at Harry as though she could not believe her eyes as she accused Harry he'd just put something in Ron's drink!

His fathers and Godfathers scandalized expressions grew, but his previous assurance held their tongue. It was clearly maddening to them they were missing something, but why would Hermione say something otherwise?! Harry was biting the inside of his cheek as he tried to continue without picturing the looks he knew would come when they figured it out.

Harry defended he'd done no such thing, but Hermione insisted otherwise.

Hermione turned sharply to Ron and pleaded with him not to drink that, but he took it all in one large gulp after telling her to stop bossing him around.

"Is playing them against each other really helping anything?" Lily sighed. She wasn't nearly as invested in Quidditch as the others, nor did she find it too hard to believe her rotten boy would pull such a thing for a game he clearly loved. If he'd get into such a big fight with Hermione over a broom, she really wouldn't put this past him no matter how much she still loved that determination to do anything.

Harry just batted his eyes innocently, but it was even harder to fake on his mum with that calculating look, so he quickly kept going.

She looked scandalized. Bending low so that only Harry could hear her, she hissed he could be expelled for that!

Harry politely returned back if she'd Confunded anyone lately?

"Heh, got her there," Remus snickered, he was enjoying this immensely. The one thing he could guarantee would rile his friends up was something Harry was now toeing the line with, and he couldn't get enough of the show, considering he might well have done the same for one of his friends if they'd needed the boost that day like Ron clearly had.

She stormed up the table away from them. Harry watched her go without regret. Hermione had never really understood what a serious business Quidditch was.

"Invoking my name right now won't help you Harry," Sirius said with a stiff lip, but his expression was softening now as he tried to dig up some explanation for this. Harry insisted he never had, nor ever would cheat, but that's exactly what he'd just been caught doing. What was he missing? The puzzle at least stopped him constantly glaring at his godson for an explanation.

He then looked around at Ron, who was smacking his lips.

The frosty grass crunched underfoot as they strode down to the stadium.

Harry casually asked him it was pretty lucky the weather was this good.

Ron agreed while looking paler than ever.

Ginny and Demelza were already wearing their Quidditch robes and waiting in the changing room.

Ginny completely ignored Ron's presence as she told Harry the Slytherin line-up wouldn't be the usual. Vaisey took a Bludger to the head during their last practice and was in the Hospital Wing, and Malfoy was out sick.

"What's this now?" Lily asked with interest, agreeing with the suddenly intense look of concentration on Harry's face for this development.

Harry turned on the spot in surprise, asking what was wrong with him?

Ginny didn't know, but the team was playing Harper instead. He was in her year, and an idiot.

"So's Malfoy, but he's actually decent on a broom," James gave a casual enough roll of his eyes, even as he kept shifting his weight for the game to begin. He'd had enough people dangling answers over his head already this year, but found he was actually enjoying Harry doing it to him. Something about his sons expression promised a payoff he'd appreciate at least, even if he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Harry smiled back vaguely, but as he pulled on his scarlet robes his mind was far from Quidditch. Malfoy had once before claimed he could not play due to injury, but on that occasion he had made sure the whole match was rescheduled for a time that suited the Slytherins better. Why was he now happy to let a substitute go on? Was he really ill, or was he faking?

"Who cares?" the three Marauders said, just wanting to get to the game already and figure out what Harry was up to. They'd already spent far too much time caring about Malfoy this year, and they wanted this one thing to enjoy.

Harry tried to get Ron to see how fishy this was, but Ron called it lucky again, then his eyes bulged wide as he turned to Harry and began babbling about his drink this morning.

Harry raised his eyebrows, but said nothing except they'd be starting in five minutes and he wanted everyone dressed.

'All of this would have happened the other day though, the Luck potion wouldn't have caused this to happen in the last hour,' James thought to himself, before his eyes widened in understanding and he quickly stopped an 'oh' of surprise escaping. He wasn't sure he was right, but suddenly he wondered why Harry showed no shame of his actions. He had more faith in the Captain of this team not pulling such a stunt, but if it really was a literal stunt...

They walked out onto the pitch to tumultuous roars and boos. One end of the stadium was solid red and gold; the other, a sea of green and silver. Many Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had taken sides too: Amidst all the yelling and clapping Harry could distinctly hear the roar of Luna Lovegood's famous lion-topped hat.

Sirius did get a laugh out of that. "I've missed hearing about her, wish we could see if she'd added anything to the hat."

"Sorry, I'll let you know later if I notice," Harry said with all the cheer in the world. Sirius was still shifting restlessly for the game, not even sure what he wanted to hear now. If Ron started miraculously catching all the goals, he couldn't even be thrilled at it, but he still had faith Harry hadn't lied to him, so what was the other option?

Harry stepped up to Madam Hooch, the referee, who was standing ready to release the balls from the crate. She told the Captain's to shake hands. Harry and Urquhart tried to crush each others instead.

"I actually wouldn't be surprised if Malfoy quit the team that morning in protest of not being made Captain." Remus said with a huff of disgust. "Been mock practicing with them in training, and then did this to spite them at the last second. Seems the kind of thing he'd do."

The whistle sounded, Harry and the others kicked off hard from the frozen ground, and they were away.

Harry soared around the perimeter of the grounds, looking around for the Snitch and keeping one eye on Harper, who was zigzagging far below him. Then a voice that was jarringly different to the usual commentator's started up.

"Oh yeah, Lee Jordan graduated," Lily puckered her lips in disappointment, she'd always enjoyed his commentary.

"Hopefully the next person is just as entertaining," Remus said with a bright smile.

It didn't start well, pointing out Ronald Weasley was a patch performer in his Keeper position last year, so many were surprised to see his reappearance on the tea. Of course it helped to be friends with the Captain.

Sirius grumbled in disgust, he'd heard that insult a lot in his last year of school, right around the time he'd been trying to restrain himself from cursing the lot. It had been a long year.

These words were greeted with jeers and applause from the Slytherin end of the pitch. Harry craned around on his broom to look toward the commentator's podium. A tall, skinny blond buy with an upturned nose was standing there, talking into the magical megaphone that had once been Lee Jordan's; Harry recognized Zacharias Smith, a Hufflepuff player whom he heartily disliked.

"I'll pay McGonagall extra to kick him from the stands," James muttered.

His words were not met with anything though, as Urquhart sent the first ball of the game, and Weasley saved it. Smith wasn't impressed, saying everyone had to get lucky.

Harry grinned to himself,

James was eyeing Harry shrewdly still to get a nail on an answer and Sirius was muttering to himself about his godson doing this to him at a time like this. Why couldn't they ever just enjoy one match without it being something?

as he dived amongst the Chasers with his eyes searching all around for some hint of the elusive Snitch.

With half an hour of the game gone, Gryffindor were leading sixty points to zero, Ron having made some truly spectacular saves, some by the very tips of his gloves,

All four of them narrowed their eyes at Harry, but it was maddening this didn't really mean an answer because Ron had done this before as well. He really was good at the game, the boost it was implied he was given really wouldn't make a real difference if Harry had gotten Ron's head on straight before this.

and Ginny having scored four of Gryffindor's six goals. This effectively stopped Zacharias wondering loudly whether the two Weasleys were only there because Harry liked them, and he started on Peakes and Coote instead.

Describing Coote as not the usual build for a Beater, they generally had more muscle-

Harry bellowed at Coote as he passed to hit a Bludger to Smith, but Coote only grinned and sent the next one to oncoming Harper.

"Well I'm certainly liking him more and more," Sirius did get a grin out of that, though certainly wouldn't mind if the next one went a bit wild.

Harry was pleased to hear the dull thunk that meant the Bludger had found its mark.

It seemed as though Gryffindor could do no wrong. Again and again they scored, and again and again, at the other end of the pitch, Ron saved goals with apparent ease. He was actually smiling now, and when the crowd greeted a particularly good save with a rousing chorus of the old favorite "Weasley Is Our King,"

Lily sniffed a bit, couldn't they add in something for Ginny's sake? She was doing as much as Ron. She'd start having her own problems of inferiority soon.

he pretended to conduct them from on high.

"Ron's really been compared to Malfoy a lot lately," James said a bit tartly, knowing he would have found that funnier under other circumstances.

Harper collided himself into Harry for the purpose of mocking Ron, calling him a blood- traitor pal.

Hooch had her back turned at the time, so by the time the Gryffindor shrieks of a foul reached her ears and she turned, Harper was shooting away.

Harry's shoulder was aching as he raced after him, determined to ram him back

"You can afford the foul," Sirius agreed in clipped tones, but he really couldn't help it, he put his feeling about Harry aside and started to lean forward with an eager smile, at least trying to enjoy the good of the game before whatever happened for it later came up.

Smith airily said Harper had seen something Potter hadn't, and Harry thought him a right idiot. Hadn't Smith seen them just collide moments before? Next moment, his stomach seemed to drop out of the , sky â€" Smith was right and Harry was wrong: Harper had not sped upward at random; he had spotted what Harry had not: The Snitch was speeding along high above them, glinting brightly against the clear blue sky.

Sirius growled in his seat, shifting his hands desperately to throw a Bludger, or anything, to help get a win out of this! He was certain no matter what Harry had done the team still deserved this!

Harry accelerated; the wind was whistling in his ears so that it drowned all sound of Smith's commentary or the crowd,

"That Firebolt really coming in handy right now," James breathed, then caught his breath and held it, fists clenched with hope his boy would pull off another win, at least he'd never done anything to himself to deserve that. Had that been what he'd meant earlier, he was only promising he'd never helped himself win? He forced his mind to snap back to this and worry about everything else in a moment.

but Harper was still ahead of him, and Gryffindor was only a hundred points up; if Harper got there first Gryffindor had lost. . . and now Harper was feet from it, his hand outstretched.

Harry desperately shouted after him how much Malfoy had paid him to come on instead?

"Razzing him at a time like this could work," James stressed the word as much as his body was tensed, regretting the hiss of words that escaped him as it only delayed a few moments longer the answer!

He did not know what made him say it, but Harper did a double-take; he fumbled the Snitch, let it slip through his fingers, and shot right past it. Harry made a great swipe for the tiny, fluttering ball and caught it.

All four of them cheered with excitement, Harry beamed with pride as his fist still tried to clench over his prize. He couldn't help it, even despite their weariness of what he was pulling on them, that was genuine praise for something he'd done! Something he never in his life expected to feel from his parents!

Harry whooped as he circled back. Wheeling around, he hurtled back toward the ground, the Snitch held high in his hand. As the crowd realized what had happened, a great shout went up that almost drowned the sound of the whistle that signaled the end of the game.

Harry found himself trapped in the midst of a mass midair hug with the rest of the team, but Ginny sped right on past them,

"Disappointed not to be getting a particular hug eh?" Sirius asked with a cheerful enough wink, but his mood was still soured more than Harry was used to for a win. He considered telling them already, but he was still sure he'd have to explain himself to Hermione as well, so waited just a few moments more.

until, with an almighty crash, she collided with the commentators podium. As the crowd shrieked and laughed, the Gryffindor team landed beside the wreckage of wood under which Zacharias was feebly stirring,: Harry heard Ginny saying blithely to an irate Professor McGonagall, she'd forgot to put on the brakes.

All five of them lost it, laughing in nothing but a carefree way for Ginny lighting all of them. Harry found himself with a growing ache, one he'd held since he first remembered Ron and Hermione. He wanted Ginny here now too. To meet his parents, to see where he'd come from! He looked wistfully to the kitchen once more, and then just as quickly looked away, scolding himself for such a thing. He was going to enjoy the time he had with his parents, and he'd find a way to make all the lives he wanted come together in the end.

Laughing, Harry broke free of the rest of the team and hugged Ginny, but let go very quickly. Avoiding her gaze, he clapped a cheering Ron on the back instead as, all enmity forgotten, the Gryffindor team left the pitch arm in arm, punching the air, waving to their supporters.

The atmosphere in the changing room was jubilant. Dean was already yelling about a party up in the common room!

"Always is," James agreed with nostalgia. He still missed those times, especially the ones in his last year, with his Lily Flower on his arm.

Ron and Harry were the last two in the changing room. They were just about to leave when Hermione entered. She was twisting her Gryffindor scarf in her hands and looked upset but determined. She told him what he'd done was illegal, Slughorn had said so.

Ron asked if she was going to turn them in?

"Why's he still being so defensive, she's trying to be on his side," Lily grumbled.

"Well it's not like Hermione hasn't done that before," Sirius snipped.

"And Ron's ego just got a bit of a boost, potion or not," Remus agreed with a sigh, he wouldn't expect anything to bring him down right now, instead it was likely to just keep climbing.

Harry asked what they were even talking about, turning away from both of them so they wouldn't see him smiling.

James clucked his tongue and Sirius shifted a bit, both determined to hear an explanation before they really got to scolding as well. Harry would admit to it, if nothing else, when he was confronted. He'd always been honest with them, and his friends.

Hermione shrilly shouted he'd used Felix Felicis to spike Ron's drink this morning!

Harry said he hadn't, turning back to face them.

James's face squished up, his mind scrambling to catch up with his sons. He suddenly sympathized in a whole new way how Harry must always feel to constantly be missing something, he was certainly getting that feeling a lot lately.

He promised he hadn't slipped anyone anything, as pulled from inside his jacket pocket the tiny bottle that Hermione had seen in his hand that morning. It was full of golden potion and the cork was still tightly sealed with wax.

"You-" Remus began in disbelief, but he could hardly get past the first word as Sirius and James burst out laughing.

"You rotten little curd," James wagged his finger even as he was grinning ear to ear. "Pulling such a stunt, I couldn't be prouder!"

"You couldn't have just said that!" Sirius agreed even as his breath came out in stops and starts from laughing.

"Where would be the fun in that?" Harry asked, more pleased than words could say he'd guessed right, they'd taken it all in stride for the joke. It was a warmth he never expected to get, knowing how his family would react to something he'd done.

"That's so sneaky," Lily tried to scold even as she was fighting back twitching lips. "Was winning the game that important to you? Would you have really done it?"

"Didn't need to," Harry gleefully pointed out, wishing Ron and Hermione were here now more than ever so he could relive seeing them go through this with him. "But no, if the idea hadn't worked, I'd have just put up with the aftermath, just like always," he finished, his smile starting to dim as he wondered why that left such a sinking feeling, why he was immediately regretting his thoughts and quite happy his friends weren't here. That was ridiculous, he'd just won a match, surely Ron would apologize and everything would go back to normal now. Suddenly anxious, he stopped Remus adding in and cut off James and Sirius still chortling to get back to his aching mind, fingers crossed he was misunderstanding something to bring the mood back down already.

Harry explained he'd only wanted Ron to think he had, but he'd really done all that himself.

Ron was astounded with himself, but then he rounded on Hermione, thrusting in her face he hadn't needed any help, he could do that without a potion!

"It's not like she knew that anymore than him," Lily huffed, still wanting to give him a good whack. He really needed to stop taking everything out on her, she'd done nothing to deserve it.

Hermione protested she hadn't said otherwise-

but Ron was completely ignoring her now and walked right out.

Harry stood there awkwardly, he hadn't expected this part of his plan to backfire. He offered to walk up to the party with her, but she told him to go on without her. She didn't know what she'd done to Ron, but she was sick of it! She stamped away, tears in her eyes.

"Would you have told her, if she'd stayed?" Remus asked in concern. This wasn't nearly as bad as some of their previous fights, but this certainly needed to be resolved, perhaps by Harry stepping in no matter how awkward.

"I don't know, probably, even though that would have made her more mad, then they'd both be mad at me," Harry sighed as he explained why he'd yet to do it. He wasn't happy at all his forewarned thoughts had been right, surely this was the unpleasant feeling, his friends still fighting.

Harry walked slowly back up the grounds toward the castle through the crowd, many of whom shouted congratulations at him, but he felt a great sense of letdown; he had been sure that if Ron won the match, he and Hermione would be friends again immediately. He did not see how he could possibly explain to Hermione that what she had done to offend Ron was kiss Viktor Krum, not when the offense had occurred so long ago.

Harry could not see Hermione at the Gryffindor celebration party, which was in full swing when he arrived. Renewed cheers and clapping greeted his appearance, and he was soon surrounded by a mob of people congratulating him. What with trying to shake off the Creevey brothers, who wanted a blow-by-blow match analysis,

"And you didn't give them one?" Sirius demanded. "You've given us plenty."

"Those two reminded me of puppies even more than you, and I didn't need the extra attention right then," Harry huffed, but at least Sirius smirked for the joke.

and the large group of girls that encircled him, laughing at his least amusing comments and batting their eyelids, it was some time before he could try and find Ron. At last, he extricated himself from Romilda Vane, who was hinting heavily that she would like to go to Slughorn's Christmas party with him. As he was ducking toward the drinks table, he walked straight into Ginny, Arnold the Pygmy Puff riding on her shoulder and Crookshanks mewing hopefully at her heels.

"Oh boy, let's hope another Weasley Hermione row doesn't sprout from Crookshanks eating him," James muttered. Hermione really did need a break, hopefully Crookshanks wouldn't start anything.

She smirked as she passed Harry, asking if he was looking for Ron? He was over there being a hypocrite.

"Excuse em wa'?" Remus put on a terrible french accent to mock what his mind was suddenly offering him in explanation. Either he'd made up with Hermione extraordinarily fast, or something far worse was about to happen. He really couldn't decide which he wanted to hear at this point, either was going to be awkward for Harry to live through.

Harry looked into the corner she was indicating. There, in full view of the whole room, stood Ron wrapped so closely around Lavender Brown it was hard to tell whose hands were whose.

"Well then," Sirius chuckled, clearly all at ease with this display. "Glad someone's untying his knickers."

"Thank you Sirius," Lily huffed.

"This won't go well," James muttered, seeing everyone else's expression but his best mates was thinking the same. Where was Hermione?

Ginny dispassionately said it looked like he was trying to eat her face.

Sirius still got a cheerful laugh out of that, now eyeing Harry and expecting his mind to trail off, to wonder what Ginny would say when Harry tried kissing her. He expected that to come up sooner rather than later.

She supposed he'd have to refine his technique somehow though. Then she told Harry good game, and patted him on the arm as she left. Harry felt a swooping sensation in his stomach, but then she walked off to help herself to more butterbeer. Crookshanks trotted after her, his yellow eyes fixed upon Arnold.

Harry turned away from Ron, who did not look like he would be surfacing soon, just as the portrait hole was closing. With a sinking feeling, he thought he saw a mane of bushy brown hair whipping out of sight.

He sighed though when he realized instead where Harry was going. He hoped Hermione wouldn't be too difficult about this, Ron was just letting off some steam. Surely Hermione would understand that.

He darted forward, sidestepped Romilda Vane again, and pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady. The corridor outside, seemed to be deserted.

He found her in the first unlocked classroom he tried. She was sitting on the teacher's desk, alone except for a small ring of twittering yellow birds circling her head, which she had clearly just conjured out of midair.

"Why?" Remus drew the word out in concern.

"Try to keep her mind on other things," Lily shrugged, running her hand through her hair uneasily. She at least hoped Hermione wouldn't take this out on Harry, but would save it for the friend who deserved it. Ron was being foul treating her this way. Whether he was avoiding the problem or he really didn't return her feelings in that way, which she doubted, this was just a terrible time to be doing anything of the sort like he was, especially as Ginny had just called out, in such a hypocritical way. They'd never even gotten an answer on what he'd said about the Slughorn party, but this wouldn't have helped anything.

She greeted him in a brittle voice, telling him she was just looking for somewhere to practice.

"She clearly doesn't need it," James said carefully, like he had an angry witches wand trained on him now. This was not a good place to start, and he had no faith his son would make it better, he'd never been very good at doing that for Hermione in the past.

He had no idea what to say to her. He was just wondering whether there was any chance that she had not noticed Ron, that she had merely left the room because the party was a little too rowdy, when she said, in an unnaturally high-pitched voice, Ron seemed to be enjoying himself.

Harry awkwardly said he wasn't sure what she meant, and she snapped at him Ronald hadn't been hiding it!

The door behind them burst open. To Harry's horror, Ron came in, laughing, pulling Lavender by the hand.

"Timing!" Sirius cried to try and break the growing tension. He was ignored.

He drew up short at the sight of Harry and Hermione.

Lavender quickly backed out of the room giggling.

"I'm sure she won't be when she gets up to her common room and remembers how close Hermione's bed is to hers," Remus muttered.

The door swung shut behind her.

There was a horrible, swelling, billowing silence. Hermione was staring at Ron, who refused to look at her, but said with an odd mixture of bravado and awkwardness, to Harry he'd wondered he'd gotten to.

"Yeah, that's why he was going into that room with Lavender," James muttered, his face pulled tight for he didn't even know what. Were Ron and Hermione going to blow this off, or start another row? He really didn't want the latter, but the first would be painfully awkward because it would then take them even longer just to talk again as if they were having a fight.

Hermione slid off the desk. The little flock of golden birds continued to twitter in circles around her head so that she looked like a strange, feathery model of the solar system.

Sirius snorted for the comparison, then pouted when he was the only one who bothered to crack again. Honestly, everyone got so cut up over romance.

She quietly said he shouldn't leave Lavender to herself. She walked very slowly and erectly toward the door. Harry glanced at Ron, who was looking relieved that nothing worse had happened.

Remus had just opened his mouth to agree to the same, when Harry had gone on in the same breath.

The spell 'Oppugno!' came as a shriek from the doorway.

Harry spun around to see Hermione pointing her wand at Ron, her expression wild: The little flock of birds was speeding like a hail of fat golden bullets toward Ron, who yelped and covered his face with his hands, but the birds attacked, pecking and clawing at every bit of flesh they could reach.

All five of them felt their mouths flop open in shock for such a display. Then Sirius started laughing harder than ever. "Well, I may not have seen this coming, but in hindsight it makes sense. She's got a bit of a violent streak, she did punch Malfoy in the face when he finally pushed her too far."

"Sirius Black, this is not funny!" Lily snapped at him.

"Why not?" He returned casually. "Ron's being an arse, either trying to make Hermione jealous or playing around with some options to see how his feelings for Hermione stack up. Honestly, he could even be just messing around for some fun."

Lily had looked surprised, even impressed he really had grasped some emotional level of what was going on, until he'd finished with another attempt to blow all this off.

She'd just opened her mouth to retort when Harry desperately tried to finish the last line,

Ron yelled to get them off of him, but with one last look of vindictive fury, Hermione wrenched open the door and disappeared through it. Harry thought he heard a sob before it slammed.

Harry groaned and let the book fall to the floor with a thud as he grabbed his head in misery. He could already feel this was going to get worse before it got better.

HPHPHPHP

Lots of romancing going on in this chapter, but the big controversial you've all been waiting for, Harry/Ginny, has finally arrived!...It's not bad.

Honestly, I don't dislike the pairing, there's certainly worse out there, but I'll never get over how little it was set up. Of all the plot threads JK did in advance, this has to be the least developed of all. Now yes I've seen a ton of posts claiming otherwise, but even rereading these recently with a critical eye, I've done more to have Harry notice her than JK ever bothered. Even in this book, there's been what, three instances of Harry noticing her? She was set up for a romance no better than if he'd suddenly fallen in love with Dean. So yeah, proceeding will as follow, this is cannon and Harry is purely smitten with her, but I just don't much care for the two together either way. I'll still do my best to have the characters invest in it like normal of course.

As for Ron and Hermione, I genuinely do like them. They're idiotic teenagers figuring out love for the first time, it's been clear it's going to be getting to this point for ages, and they're going about it in the worst way possible to each other. I personally think that makes them a stronger couple in the end, I don't believe there's such a thing as the perfect romance and some problems at the start are probably healthier than finding them later in life. I've heard JK's commentary that they'd probably have to have a counselor at some point in their marriage, but I don't get why people say that means she didn't want them to end up together. There's nothing wrong with needing a mediator to find a way to talk to each other, hell, I'm pretty sure Harry's the counselor she meant. He's already had years of practice at it already.

This has been my thoughts none of you asked for on the two current pairings in the series. I think I made myself pretty clear on Harry/ Cho, Harry/ Luna will come up in a later chapter, you already know my stance on Jilly and Wolfstar, I'll address Dramione near the end of seven if any of you really care, and Remadora will come up in a later chapter which I'm sure you can guess at.

*A mouth guard, to those who didn't recognize the word like I didn't and googled it upon my first read. I don't know why I pictured a wand creating a wad of gum to surround them first, my mind feels idiotic now for not putting it together, but that's what happens when I spend too much time in a place like Hogwarts. Things like that seem more real than common safety practice.

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

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korkisobsessions · 3 years

Text

The Oath

XVIII. Hangover

Yeongshin experienced one of the hardest mornings. His head pounding with pain, when he opened his eyes to bright and warm morning. His tongue heavy in his dry mouth.

He wanted to sleep a little longer, but cheerful voice of Beom Pal get him out of the bed. His pride didn’t let him sleep longer, than some noble city boy. He can’t admit that he cannot handle his drinks.

He took all of his strength and made his way out of bedroom. Beom Pal was sitting with Nilah on their porch, enjoying late morning with bowl of rice and tea.

Yeongshin shield his eyes from sharp sunshine and frowned.

“Here he is. Brave chakho, who defeat hordes of undead, but loose against few bottles of soju.” Beom Pal laughs and toss him cup of tea.

“I didn’t loose.” He frowns and kisses giggling Nilah. “Maybe we are even.”

“It’s understandable. You are not used to drink. When I lived in Dongnae, I used to drink more soju than water. I think I’m immune...” Beom Pal considered.

“Then why is this cup, full of grass?” Yeong shin raised his eyebrow, when he noticed that.

Beom Pal looks at him with red and glossy eyes and smiled. “So...I’m probably still drunk.”

“You should eat something.” Nilah gave him bowl of soup and sit back to sunlight. It was beautiful day.

Yeongshin took of his stinking shirt and made his way to river. He throws himself to cold embrace of water and almost moans. It feels so good and he immediately feels better. He was floating on the surface and felt warm pleasant feeling in his chest. He was back in the world of living. When someone asks him for his identity tag, he could proudly give it to him and identify himself as a common citizen. He doesn’t have to use his false tag or run away.

He can marry Nilah...

Gentle waves swing him towards the sandy bank where he sat in the shallow and wash his face.

“Yeong shin?” Miho’s voice brings him back. Boy was sitting in the tall grass, with makeshift rod. He watched Yeong shin’s body full of scars with mixture of terror and awe.

Yeongshin wiped water from his chest and took back dirty shirt, not to scare the boy longer that was necessary.

Miho put down his rod and came closer with head hang low.

“What is it?” Yeongshin was suddenly worried, that something happened in village. Maybe another dead body.

“I’m sorry I scared you yesterday. I didn’t know who that man was...” his eyes were glossy and ears red with shame. “I scared you for no reason.” He wipes his nose.

“No! Miho...” Yeongshin kneeled in front of the boy, to have eyes in same level and put his palms on Miho’s little shoulders. “You did the right thing. I’m glad you came for me.”

Miho raised his stare from the ground and find the courage to look Yeongshin in the eyes.

Yeong shin’s throat was tight when he remembered his little brother, how he held his shoulders just like he holds Miho now.

“I know that something happened to you and Nilah. I just want to help.”

“You were very brave. Come with me.” He nods towards the house.

Nilah was in the garden and wave at them when they come closer. He left Miho outside and walks inside the house. Loud snoring of Beom Pal was filling the air with odour of alcohol. He made his way to his things and after few moments found what he was looking for and didn’t forgot to change his shirt.

“This is for you. For your help” He gave boy big tiger’s fang on leather cord. “It’s from the tiger that gave me this...” he touches his chest. He knows that Miho saw his scars. Boy’s eyes were big and full of astonishment. His trembling palm grip the tiger’s tooth and Yeong shin can’t fight the smile.

“Thank you.” He put it around his neck with awe like it was precious gem.

“Just be careful, kid.”

That word escapes his lips quickly and naturally, but his heart hurts when he remembered his master who used to call him like this. “I need to talk to your father. Is he home?”

“Hmm hmm.” Miho hum with agreement, not paying attention to anything but the fang.

Yeongshin made his way to garden, where Nilah was checking their little sprouts of vegetables. She lifts her eyes and smiled at him, smudge of soil on her cheek. He squat next to her, and gently wiped the smudge with his thumb, holding her face in his palm. She lean into his touch and closed her eyes.

“About last night and Beom Pal’s gift...” he started but she silenced him with her lips. He was caught unprepared and almost fell to the ground with her arms around his neck. She kissed him hungrily pulling him closer, her heart beat fast and strong. He held her around her waist with one arm and second tangled into her hair. Her tongue was hot and sweet, pushing into his mouth, he almost moans out loud.

And when she pulls away, her cheeks were red, lips swollen and eyes wild. “I understand, what that tag means to you. And I’m happy for you.” She put her open palm over his heart. “But for me, nothing changed. You are still same person that I love more than anything. I love your heart, not your name.”

“I know.” He touches her forehead with his and held her face in his rough palms. “But you know that world is not so simple.”

“Don’t forget that I’m just a pagan...” she laughed, but Yeongshin stopped her with serious face.

“Not anymore. You are citizen of this kingdom, just like me.”

“Its strange feeling. I still can’t get used to it.”

“I know...but for me nothing changed.” He repeated her words. “You are still the same person I love more than anything.” He held her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I need to see Jae Bong. And I will bring something for supper.”

He stood up and left garden. Miho was still standing in the same place examining his treasure.

Nilah stay at the garden and weed the plant beds. Plants were grown enough to put them in the field. They just need to prepare the ground. Yeong shin bought plow and their donkey were strong enough to work. It was just a matter of a few days.

Sun was high when Beom Pal found his way out of the house clean and prepared.

“My beautiful lady, I was honoured to be your guest, but I’m needed elsewhere.”

Nilah smiled and wiped away her dirty hands.

“It was my honour, my lord.” She bows her head and takes a pouch with food and water for his journey back to Hanyang.

“You must visit me in the city. We will make great celebration.” He made his way to his horse that was fed and well rested.

“I don’t thin that the capital city is ready for dancing chakho.”

Beom Pal burst in laughter and almost fell. “I don’t know if I was ready for it. When I will be old and dying, I will remember it and I will die with laughter.”

Nilah laughed genuinely and give him the food.

“Oh! I’m such a fool!” Beom Pal was suddenly serious and takes one of the bags from the horse seat. “I was so glad to see you that I almost forgot.” He gave Nilah that bag. It was quite heavy. She was confused but don’t get the chance to ask what it is. “You still have a few friends in Sangju. They collect your things and send it to me.”

“What?” her voice trembled when she opened the bag and found her old clothes and uniform, her sword and the most precious thing. Her book with stories. She came to Sangju with nothing. But she didn’t mind it. All she ever missed were her books with stories and fairy tales. One day she starts to remember them and writing it in empty book she got from Deok Sung. To not forget.

But then came Lee Chang with Seo-Bi and wild chakho, and she left Sangju without her things.

“My lord...” She sobs with broken voice. “I...have no words.”

“I said, it wasn’t me, but your friends.” Beom Pal made few steps closer towards her and laid his palms on her shoulders. “I know it was bad, but don’t forget there are good people behind you. And don’t be hard on yourself when you are scared. Your soul is like your broken leg. It needs time to heal. It sometimes hurts, but it will be better with time.”

Her lips were trembling when she fought with tears. His words touch her heart with so much comfort.

“I’m so sorry, but I must...” Nilah let out with one breath and throw herself to his arms. She hugs him tightly and whispering ‘thank you’ over and over again.

She still remember the silly man standing on the rooftop with sword in his trembling hands too scared to cut his palm, too afraid of pain. But he was still there. Fighting with them.

And now he was here, same silly man, telling her these wise words.

When he was disappearing in the distance, she was sad, but she knows that they will see him again.

~°~

“So...everything is fine...” Jae Bong asks as they walk side by side towards old barn, where the body of unknown man was hidden.

“Yeah, it is.” Yeong shin nods innocently avoiding other man’s stare.

“And it was completely normal that you run like a mad man, with pure terror in the eyes, just because some man came to your house.”

They approached the barn and both of them covered their faces with piece of cloth to avoid the smell of decaying corpse.

“I know, I was overreacting. It was mistake.”

“Stop bullshiting me chakho!” Jae Bong closed the door before Yeongshin had a chance to open them. He pushed down the reflex of grabbing his knife. Jae Bong looked pissed and even though he said he never fights, Yeong shin didn’t want to be his first. He was a huge man with lot of strength. And he didn’t want to lie to him. He just bows his head and nod.

“You don’t have to be worried. That thing is very personal. There was a man. He was Nilah’s captain. And he was probably in love with her. Or it was some kind of possession. And when he can’t have her, he pushed her into desertion. She runs away but he hunts her down and locked her in the prison. And he...he hurt her very badly.”

Even though it was long time ago, he still had clenched fists, when he thought about it. His knuckles white and blood boiling with rage.

“I see...” Jae Bong hummed and his shoulders loose the tension.

“Few days ago, day when we found the body, she thought that she saw that captain, looking at her through the window. It scared her. But I searched everything around the house and there were no tracks, or anything. It was just a bad day, but it always leaves me uneasy.”

He felt like he put down little weight from his shoulders. Just saying it out loud helped him.

“I’m sorry. I really am.”

“You don’t have to be. We are good...we will be.”

Jae Bong leaves his vigilance and open door of the barn.

The smell was terrible. It was heavy and they felt it, even though they had covered faces. It fills their nostrils and they felt it in their mouths. And what Yeongshin hated the most was flies. Their disgusting buzzing around the corpse woke bad memories from war. When he was recovering from his injuries, flies were everywhere. And when they sit on someone for too long, it was a sign that person is dead.

He just hated it.

“We must burn the body.” He mumbled. He didn’t want to open his mouth more than was necessary.

“Yeah I know.” Jae Bong spoke with choked voice. He was fighting with nausea. “But I had idea. Can you tell, what kind of weapon the murderer used?”

Yeongshin came closer to body and examined the wounds.

“I think that it was two kinds of weapons.” He point towards wound on the neck. “This could be a sword. Strong and sharp. Sword can cut of head. But this...” he carefully turned the body and revealed the open wounds on the back. “This couldn’t be a sword. This is too much of bones. It must be something like axe, or butchers had this cleaver...”

And suddenly it hit him. It was like blow to the chest. His hands trembled, when he realised, how he knows that. How he was fighting with bones of that young boy in Jiyulheon. How he had to chop one bone several times, to separate the parts. It was terrible and desperate thing.

“Are you alright chakho? You are pale.”

“I’m.” he choked. But wave of nausea hit him, when one of the flies sat on his forearm. He remembered the flies flying around Dan-I and how he was brushing them away, to not spoil the meat. He was thinking about the boy, like about flesh and nothing more.

And how it starts everything.

He felt vomit in the mouth and quickly run outside to throw up. Maybe it was because his drinking yesterday or it was guilt.

Guilt that he never told Nilah, how IT was all his fault.

How it all started, with one soup for starving innocents.

~°~

They burned the body and pay him respect. Who knows who that man was, but he died with horrible death, so they at least gave some comfort to his soul.

Yeongshin wasn’t much of believer. He did not believe that soul of the man will be wandering around, headless just because he died like this. He saw too much violent deaths, that it would turn world into hell, if there was so much angry ghosts.

He just doesn’t have faith in something he never saw. He just believes in sun, in sky and orders of nature. Sometimes a man must die so that another man can live.

“You don’t look good.” Jae Bong raised his eyebrows, when he noticed his distraction.

“I drink too much yesterday.” Yeongshin was watching the flames eating rotten flash of unknown soldier and his stomach was cramped.

He needs to tell Nilah everything. To redeem himself. To be honest with her in every way. But he was scared. Scared, that she will despise him.

“Tonight will be bonfire in village. You should come.”

“Why?” his voice was dry in his throat.

“Because it is celebration of village you are part of.” He said it like an obvious thing.

“But...people hate us.” He would like to come. To be part of village celebration. But unfriendly looks in the villagers eyes was something he would rather pass.

Jae Bong furrowed his brow and looked at him with little pity.

“That’s not true. They were scared, but now they see you are not danger.”

“Maybe...”

Pile of wood collapsed and buried the bones in the ash.

He head back home with heavy heart.

Nilah was sitting in the grass with flower crown on her head and reading out loud from a book he never saw. It looks more like old journal. Miho and other boys were digging hole for a young walnut tree and girls were tangling Nilah’s hair.

“...And then the mountain king turned young Upa into a stone for her foolishness. Her good heart stays alive, but full of pain...and she cried. The stone cried. Her tears join together and made river. Mountain King was trying to stop the water, throwing stones and rocks to her way, but he wasn’t so powerful to stop her. And that river was called Upa after that young woman, who falls in love with mountain King.” She closed her book and when she saw approaching Yeongshin her lips widen in smile. But it froze, when she noticed his worried face.

“That was sad story.” One of the girls complained. “I wanted to hear the story about lost princess.”

“Maybe tomorrow” Nilah watched Yeongshin sat heavily on bench in front of the house and starts to cleaning his rifle. She recognised the tension in his movements. Something was wrong.

“I think that you were princess. And Yeongshin was your guard. You fall in love and run away to be together.” Girls giggled with blushing cheeks. If they only knew, how they got together, they wouldn’t sleep for a month.

“And what if Yeongshin was prince and I was his guard?” she tried to make fun of them and girls even the boys burst in laughter. Yeongshin raised his eyes from the rifle with the questionable look.

“He can’t be a Prince.” Girl In-ha laughed with something little cruel in her voice. She was always judging everything and everyone.

“You are right. He can’t be.” Nilah was watching her man, how his eyes saddened. “I met Prince and I met Lords and wealthy men. But no one is better than Yeong shin.”

Her heart was pounding so strong and just for him. She still can’t get used to, how much she loves him. His ears reddened, when he heard their conversation.

“It’s enough kids. It’s getting late and your parents will be waiting for you. You need to prepare yourself for evening celebration.” Nilah stood up and gave boys reward for their job. It was a few coins, but boys appreciated it with joyful yelp.

When kids disappeared over the hill, she made her way to Yeongshin and sat on the ground next to him and laid her head into his lap. He put down his rifle and gently cares her temple. He let out deep exhale and get down from the bench and hug her tightly.

She was worried, but for a while she didn’t want to ruin her nice day. Just for a few short moments she wanted to be happy.

“I...must tell you something.”

His voice wasn’t firm like always. He was nervous. She saw his hands shaking so she holds them in her palms and kissed his knuckles.

“It will be all right.” It was all, she could say.

“You know...when I lost everything...my master, my brother and Sumang. I swore to myself that I will revenge them. That I will kill that man, who brought dead back. Lee Seung-hui. Then the man who gave the order to bring them back, Cho Hak Joo. And a man who followed the order, Ahn Hyun.”

His voice was dull and empty. Like he was speaking about someone else.

“First was the healer. It took me a while to found him. Finally I was in this clinic but He was in Hanyang, so I was pretending that I hurt my shoulder and want only his treatment and wait for him. But when he returns, he brought dead man with him. It was probably his apprentice who died in Hanyang.”

He was quite for a few moments fighting with something deep inside him. Something he wanted to bury.

“I saw terrible things. But one of the worst things was look in the eyes of desperate mother that cannot feed her baby because she was starving.

People there were sick and dying of hunger. And no one was going to help them. So I have decided.”

Nilah was silent and still, but everything inside her was trembling “What have you done?”

“I feed them.” His voice was low and dreadful.

“Where you got the food?” she starts to get sick.

“The healer brought it from Hanyang.”

Nilah covered her mouth with palm and all colours left her face. She was suddenly white like snow.

“Yeongshin, what have you done?”

Yeongshin had traitorous tears in his eyes, but he angrily whipped them away. “I chopped that boy to pieces and made a soup. Finally they could eat something and not die!” he shouts.

For the first time he was shouting at her and it hurts him so badly, he wanted to scream at himself.

“No, it can’t be.” She felt cold sweat running down her spine and her throat was tight. The idea of Yeongshin cooking human flesh was terrible.

They didn’t even realise that they were both on their feet. No more siting side by side. No more gentle holding hands. If stranger approached them, he would though that they will be fighting with each other.

“Did they know?” her voice was barely audible.

She always said that she love Yeongshin no matter what. She knows that he was chakho and that Chakhos do everything to survive. She heard stories about them that chakhos used to eat hearts of their enemies. But she never believed it. It was just scary stories of drunken soldiers to scare the younger ones.

But part of her always hoped that Yeong shin’s everything had some borders.

“Did they know, what?” he barked like dog in the corner.

“Did they know what they were eating?” tears stung in her eyes and her voice was trembling.

“No. Does it matter?” his voice was bitter and all his muscles were limp. He wanted to be honest, but all he gets was his worst nightmare.

“Yes it does Yeong shin! You don’t gave them choice!” There she was. Screaming at him...mad at him. Maybe she hated him and for what? For his peace of mind. He thought that he will feel better. But it was worse.

Much worse. He saw regret in Nilah’s eyes.

And his stupid mind fought with her. Tried to justify his actions.

“What choice Nilah? There were only two options! Eat or die.” His voice was too loud, too rough. And in his first instinct, he wanted to touch her. Held her shoulders, to listen to him. To believe that all he wanted to do was save that people. That his actions were selfless. It was his salvation...or curse that he was the only one who survived. Because he was making sure that everyone is fed first.

But Nilah flinch back from his touch. Like she was scared of him. He tried to hide his feelings, but he felt the painful sting through his heart to the tips of his toes. Her eyes were glossy in the last sun beams pain and confusing and betrayal.

“It doesn’t matter. They are all dead.” He whispered with death voice. “Boy was bitten, his meat was infected. Everyone who eats that meat died and turned into monsters.”

Nilah cried.

Her tears were making stains on her azure shirt. She didn’t even try to wipe them away.

“They told me it came from Gyeongsang.” She was whispering slowly. “I wish to be only thing I know about the beginning of the plague.”

And than she turns and starts walking away. Away from him. And that scared him to death. That she was leaving him. He thought that they have something like unbreakable bond. After all they’ve been through. Ready to sacrifice life for each other, she was leaving and his heart ache more than it aches in Hanyang when he found that Nilah served to Ahn Hyun.

It hurts more because it was all his fault she was leaving.

“Nilah...” it was barely whisper, but she heard him. She stopped, but didn’t turn back. He was facing her stiff backs.

“There is bonfire in village. Kids are waiting for me.”

It was like she was talking to stranger. She took her plaid and left.

Yeong shin stood there outside their houses in half light suddenly alone and lost.

#kingdom #kingdom netflix #kingdom 2019 #kingdom fanfiction #kdrama #chakho #yeongshin #yeong shin #fanfiction

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strawberrysoup · 4 years

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Let’s Review || Chapter 10

Peter Parker knew that his big sister would do anything for him to be safe and happy. She’d given up everything for him twice over already and would do it again in a heartbeat. And that’s why, when the criminal mastermind Tony Stark started inextricably following him around, he didn’t say a word. Because he knew without a doubt Penny would do whatever she had to if it meant keeping Peter safe. He had to protect her, just like she always protected him. He never considered what would happen if Stark decided both Parker siblings were worth taking. Never considered who else in Stark’s inner circle would agree. He just wanted to protect her and yet somehow, they both ended up with needles in their necks.

relationship: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character/Bucky Barnes, background Peter Parker/Tony Stark rating: Explicit/18+ warnings: Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, Dark Tony Stark, Dark Avengers, kidnapping, non-con/dub-con elements, underage Peter Parker, emotional and psychological abuse, very dark

Penny never had difficulty sleeping. She was exhausted 90% of the time, between three jobs and everything that went into raising Peter, and could take a nap whenever the opportunity arose. It was a joke amongst all of her coworkers, that if you gave Penny an idle 10 minutes, she'd find a place to curl up and nap. She could sleep 16 hours straight happily if given the chance.

Insomnia wasn't a part of her life. It was why finding herself unable to sleep was shocking to her entire system. The day of her punishment she took a nap and that was the last time she slept more than an hour at a time for the next three days. She wasn't sure if it was the fear and anxiety or the stress or any other combination of things, but she simply couldn't sleep.

She didn't know if her kidnappers had noticed, strangely enough. They watched her constantly, tracking her movements and making notes of her habits, but never mentioned her sleep patterns. Or her eating patterns, for that matter.

When Steve got up in the mornings, she waited about half an hour before getting out of bed herself. While he went for a workout, she pulled all of the curtains back from the floor to ceiling windows in the living room and laid on the floor in the sunshine. It was the only time she really slept soundly for longer than 20 or 30 minutes. By the third day, when she got up and went into the living room, the curtains had already been pulled back and the couch cushions were arranged like a pallet on the floor where she usually lay. An apple, which she had a tendency to grab in the mornings to hold her over until breakfast because half the time the only kosher food in the kitchen was fruit or vegetables, was already washed and cut and set on the coffee table.

They never said anything about what she ate, even when Bucky made large, intricate meals and she avoided most of it. The first night he made spaghetti and meatballs with a side salad and she'd only eaten the salad. The second night had been pork chops and pasta salad— she'd dug out the last of the salad from the previous meal and a bit of the pasta before realizing there was bacon in it. Honestly she was starving, there was hardly anything kosher in the apartment and she was living off vegetables.

Her captors were strange dudes. Sometimes they seemed chivalrous to a fault, set in some sort of bizarre gender stereotype; they would never sit before she did or start eating until she took her first bite. But Steve didn't like when she cursed or rolled her eyes and Bucky told her smoking wasn't ladylike when she asked for cigarettes. There was a weird dichotomy where they desperately wanted her to be happy in her imprisonment but simultaneously wanted to micromanage her behavior.

After the fourth near sleepless night, she’d once again retreated to the living room once she was sure Steve had left. The spot in front of the windows was comforting for some reason, the warmth of the sun was encompassing like a hug but didn’t require touch. It felt safer than anywhere else in the apartment.

She slept for at least an hour and only woke up to the sound of JARVIS playing a chime every few seconds, the noise slowly increasing in volume. As she blinked, slightly disoriented by the sound, and realized she was no longer laying on the cushions. At some point while she was asleep Bucky had managed to wedge his way beneath her, leaving her to lie on his chest. His arms were raised on either side of her head like he was holding something over her and the top of her head brushed his chin.

At that point, her body didn’t even bother to instinctually tense. Even after such a short period of time, the panic response had lost its grip in the face of resentful acceptance.

“Good morning, doll,” Bucky’s voice was a rumble beneath her more than a sound and she heard a page turning above her, “I can see why you like to lay here.”

Penny didn’t bother answering, tired eyes tracking his movements as he lowered his arms and put a book on the floor. He didn’t look tired at all with his hair carefully pulled back into an artfully messy bun, fully dressed despite the fact that it couldn’t have been past 7 am. It was unfair how attractive they were, considering the position they had put her in. She’d never even considered a man bun atttractive before for fucks’ sake. After a short moment, his hands came back up to cup her face.

Knowing the kiss was coming didn’t make it any easier to process or mentally prepare for. She didn’t want him to, it was disgusting, how dare he kiss her— but it was also so nice. Bucky was a really good kisser, both of the soldiers were, and it sent tingles down her sprine every time. The warmth from the sunshine was amplified by the feeling until it seeped into her veins and rendered her boneless against him.

“Really good morning,” Bucky smiled against her lips, brushing his nose against hers as he pulled away enough to look at her, “Steve’s gonna be out of the shower in a few and we’ll head up to breakfast. Go get dressed.”

Penny nodded in response, dazed, and let him pick her up and set her to the side of the pallet where it was easier to stand. The bedroom was still mostly dark, the heavy curtains drawn and the only light coming from the partially open bathroom door. The shower was running and she could hear Steve moving around as she walked to the dresser.

There was a drawer dedicated to the softest clothing they’d purchased for Penny and she was especially taken with the shirts in it. They felt like ultra thin, soft cotton but were actually rather thick and warm. She pulled out a black one with long sleeves and traded it for the t-shirt she’d slept in. The same pair of jeans she’d worn the previous day followed and she tugged off her socks, prefering to go barefoot just because she could tell it bothered Steve.

She stepped past the blond in question just as he came out of the bathroom, pretending not to notice the once over he gave her. The assholes weren’t exactly subtle, probably didn’t see the need to be. Bucky was waiting by the elevators when she walked into the living room, motioning over with the metal hand.

It had been days but she still hadn’t gotten up the courage to ask about the arm. Steve and Bucky both treated it like a completely normal arm, as if it wasn’t a super strong and incredibly high tech prosthetic, and she was afraid to mention it. Instead she tried to make sure she didn’t look at it for too long, or hesitate when he touched her with it just in case it made him angry.

“Ready for breakfast baby?” He wrapped the arm around her shoulders and tugged her into his chest, ducking his head down to kiss her cheek.

“Yeah,” Penny murmured, eyes tracking Steve as he also left the bedroom and crossed the room, kissing them each soundly before calling JARVIS to bring the elevator.

Penny had forced herself to become comfortable with any display of affection that came directly before getting to see Peter, just in case they decided to throw a hissy fit at her rejection and refuse to take her to breakfast. Despite the fact that she'd been promised she could see her brother multiple times a day, it had been limited to breakfast. She asked at least 20 times a day, can I see Peter now? I want to see Peter. I want to see my brother. They brushed her off every time, made some sort of excuse.

It was part of their plan to make the siblings 'adapt' to their new lives. Penny could read between the lines and knew they didn't want them together too often to avoid any plotting. If they couldn't communicate enough to make an escape plan, they probably wouldn't try. It made sense, the clever bastards, but not being able to see her brother was wearing her down. Combined with the lack of sleep, she was beginning to feel more and more distraught.

JARVIS was a small, unexpected saving grace. She wasn't sure why, but the AI would give her updates on Peter if she asked. Is Peter okay? Yes, Ms. Parker, he is currently in the lab. Is Peter okay? Yes, Ms. Parker, he is taking a nap at the moment. Is Peter okay? Yes, Ms. Parker, he is watching the original Star Wars trilogy.

As they rode in the elevator up a few levels to what she'd come to realize was Stark's floor, she could see a very small red light in the upper corner. JARVIS was always watching, monitoring things like heart rate and temperature. He understood Hebrew if she spoke in it and would answer in kind, giving her a sort of privacy from the men boxing in her. The AI wasn't on her side per say, but the little things he did helped keep her from going crazy.

When the doors opened, Penny didn't wait for the men to move before she began on her way to the kitchen. She would sit in a chair, despite the incredible amounts of pain it caused after her punishment, but would be transferred to someone's lap almost immediately. Likely Bucky, since they seemed to take turns and Steve had held her yesterday. They wanted to hold her and feed her. It restricted her movements, kept her farther from Peter, and drove her batshit insane.

She quickly sat in the chair closest to her brother, forcing herself not to wince in pain and reached out for his hand. Peter was coping much better than she was, it was plain on his face and otherwise in his appearance. He didn't look happy necessarily, but he was sleeping and eating regularly. There was no visible cringe when Stark touched him, which she assumed meant the man hadn't hurt him.

Penny had been considering for days what she would do if she walked into the kitchen one morning and found Peter injured. She was about .02 seconds from losing it at any second as it was, if she ever suspected Peter was hurt she would go ape shit. The goal would be to take Stark out as efficiently as possible— she'd likely only have one chance. She was pretty sure shoving a fork through his eye would be as effective as anything else.

"You know, you get a very particular look on your face when you're considering killing me."

Penny looked away from Peter just in time to see Stark before he swept her up out of her chair and sat down with her in his lap. Being as small as she was, it made manhandling her pretty easy in comparison to say, Peter, who despite being skinny was tall and ungainly to lift and carry around.

"Tony," Bucky sounded displeased but Stark waved him off.

"My turn Winter Wizard," the older man snarked, tugging her snugly back against the line of his chest, "I love Penny too."

Love. Stark didn't love Penny. She was half convinced he didn't even understand the concept, had it so thoroughly confused with obsession that he couldn't comprehend what love was. Love was selfless and unconditional, it was supposed to bring joy and comfort. Nothing about Stark's actions were any of those things, didn't provide a feeling of happiness and safety. Sitting in his lap was like sitting on a live landmine.

"What're your plans for today sweetheart? Peter wants to spend some time in the lab with Bruce— honestly I think he likes biology more than engineering, can you believe that?"

Penny didn't answer, watching from the corner of her eye as Steve and Bucky sat down in the chairs around them. Steve sat opposite of Peter at the head of the table while Bucky took a seat to the teenager’s right, across from Penny and Stark. There was another comprehensive breakfast spread across the table, a quiche, pancakes, scrambled eggs with cheese and ham, fresh fruit, sausage and bacon.

Every time they loaded plates for her, Penny found herself turning her nose up at at least half of it. She was pretty sure they were unaware that the siblings were Jewish, either that or they were too stupid to realize there were dietary restrictions involved in the religion. Peter was more lax than Penny, he didn't remember their parents as much and aunt May and uncle Ben hadn't been religious, but she still ate kosher about 75% of the time. Plus, most kosher foods just felt more ethical and humane.

Not that the mother fuckers who'd kidnapped them had any idea what it meant to be ethical. Or humane for that matter.

"Penny, words," it wasn’t an order necessarily but she'd come to realize over the few days she had been in the tower that Steve's tone left no room for disobedience.

"I don’t have any plans," she tried not to overtly grit her teeth in irritation.

Any other day she'd be at the daycare until 1ish, taking care of the babies. After that she'd go to her barista job and after that, she went to the grocery store to stock shelves over night. Penny didn't have downtime, she didn't have hobbies, she didn't do anything during the day other than work. Maybe that's why she wasn't sleeping at all; she wasn't doing anything. Certainly not half as much as usual.

"Well, what would you like to do? What do you do for fun?"

Simmering anger began to build under Penny's skin but before she could answer (and potentially get herself into trouble), Peter jumped in, "Penny used to knit. And you liked gardening, right? When we lived in the house you had all those plants and the garden out back."

"Ma's garden," Penny twitched her nose, the movement preventing a facial expression from settling and giving away her emotions— she tried not to think of the garden, or the house they'd lived in before the accident, it made her too sad.

"Bite, sweetheart," Tony directed when she went quiet, refusing to elaborate.

The food on the fork was a piece of the quiche, something with spinach and cheese and bacon, and Penny shook her head. The bacon was bad enough, but putting dairy with it as well was too much for her to stomach. Stark hesitated for a moment before sighing heavily and putting the fork down, forcing Penny to turn slightly in his lap to face him.

"You have to eat, sweetheart," he looked just a shade short of irritated and a thrill ran through her, a mix of fear that he might hurt her if he got mad enough combined with dark satisfaction that her actions were having an effect on him even if unintentionally, "you're too skinny as it is and you can't keep refusing food."

"I won't eat it," she stated quietly, resolution in her tone.

The only things on the table she would truly be willing to eat were the fruits and the pancakes. The quiche had cheese and bacon, the eggs had cheese and ham, and the individual meats were pork. For some reason, the bites of food she wanted were few and far between compared to the dishes she couldn't eat.

"It's not an option baby," Bucky's voice was soft and imploring.

Irritation climbed up her throat. She wasn’t on a hunger strike, she wasn’t being difficult. They were the ones who'd snatched her up against her will without considering her needs and wants. They were the ones at fault and fuck if she was going to—

"That's not kosher," Peter quickly pointed to the quiche, followed by the scramble, "that's not either. The pancakes might not be either depending on the eggs. Penny will eat the fruit."

"You guys eat kosher?" Bucky and Steve both looked startled and she'd bet Tony did too.

She didn't realise they were all considering what they knew about Peter; Tony had taken the boy out to eat multiple times in the months before bringing the siblings to the tower and there'd never been any sign of a special diet. They were Jewish, yes, but Tony could clearly remember the teenager eating bacon cheeseburgers and shrimp alfredo.

"I don't but Penny does."

Since they'd brought her into the apartment, the soldiers hadn't paid too much attention to what she ate. Salads mostly, pasta. They hadn't focused on what she was eating, just the quantity of what she ate.

"Ms. Parker regularly checks with me before consuming anything," JARVIS announced to the silent room.

Maybe part of the reason Penny wasn't sleeping was because she was hungry. Honestly she was always sort of hungry, Peter having plenty to eat was more important than her eating regularly, but she'd been really hungry over the past few days.

"Penny why didn't you say anything?" Steve looked stricken and Bucky's face was ashen; he'd even talked to Wanda about kosher foods before they'd assumed the Parker's didn't eat a specific diet.

"Why didn't I tell my kidnappers that I follow a religious diet? I wonder."

The words were scathing and spoken with a hiss of disdain that had their shoulders raising automatically. Bucky and Steve both shrunk back slightly and Stark went still behind her. She even managed to get out of his arms without a fight, standing up and heading for the elevator without hesitation.

"...Penny?"

"I'm going to take a shower, leave me alone!"

She was so angry and fucking exhausted and hungry. Irrationally, it felt like storming off after having an argument with family instead of the true life villains she was surrounded by. She felt like a teenager storming off after fighting with her parents. Shockingly, they really let her go. The elevator doors opened and closed for her, even though she was alone.

"Shall I bring you to your apartment Ms. Parker?"

"It's not like I can go anywhere else," her voice was tearful and she bit the inside of her cheek, refusing to cry.

But instead of moving, the elevator stayed still for an abnormal amount of time. She assumed JARVIS was waiting for the soldiers to arrive.

"Perhaps you would like to go to the kitchens, miss?"

"The kitchens?"

"Yes miss, I've spoken to one of the chefs who is more than happy to make all necessary adjustments to the kitchen to facilitate a kosher diet. New equipment is being brought in to prevent cross contamination and an order was sent to the runners for kosher foods which should arrive in less than an hour. In the meantime, Chef Cohen is gathering the necessities to make a kosher breakfast from what is currently on hand."

Penny immediately burst into tears against her will, entirely overwhelmed. The tower was a goddamn nightmare, she was trapped and more often than not separated from her brother, but JARVIS was slowly becoming one of her favourite people (even if he wasn't really a person) in the world. Because JARVIS talked to her in Hebrew and told her about Peter when she asked and helped her figure out what she could eat and played movies on the wall all night while she was stuck in bed.

He couldn't help her escape, he was a computer program at the mercy of his protocols, but he did more for her than anyone else.

"Yes please JARVIS," Penny managed to get out through her tears, pressing her palms against her eyes gently, "thank you JARVIS."

"You are most welcome Ms. Parker, your happiness is my priority."

"It is?"

"My protocol is to make sure Mr. Parker and Master Stark are happy. In order to do so, I must make sure you are happy miss."

Penny wasn't smart. She didn't have a high IQ, never finished college, would never qualify for anything more than a dead end job. But she was good at reading between the lines. Finding unconventional solutions to problems was a skill of hers. JARVIS might not be able to intentionally help her escape, but he might help her on accident without even realizing it.

It wasn't a plan, not yet, but it was a tool in her arsenal she never expected to have. And she would use it to her advantage as soon as possible.

"Sir, Ms. Parker is currently on her way down to the kitchens were Chef Cohen is preparing a kosher meal. He has also compiled a comprehensive list of kosher foods to be kept in the kitchen at all times."

"He made a list? Why didn't you do it J?"

"He's Jewish," Peter answered before JARVIS had a chance, shrinking back slightly when three pairs of eyes leveled on him suddenly.

"Have you met him? He shouldn't have come up to this floor."

Sometimes Peter forgot that gentiles didn't recognize Jewish surnames, "he… didn't. His last name is Cohen. That's one of the most Jewish names I can think of."

He couldn't be sure, there was a high chance that Peter was hallucinating, but it was possible that Tony Stark was blushing. Like, it was possible but Peter was pretty sure his eyes must've been playing tricks on him. Tony made him blush a million times a day, it was never the other way around. A small thrill ran through him, had he made Tony turn red?

"Peter, is there anything else like this that we should know?"

Steve's voice drew him out of his reverie and Peter directed his attention at the blond, "like what?"

"Like things Penny doesn't like, or will upset her?"

Peter nodded in understanding, "like abducting her and keeping her against her will?"

"Peter!" Tony was trying to admonish him but his tone was full of laughter.

Bucky leveled the teenager with a vaguely amused expression, "Tony was the one who kidnapped her."

"Yeah but she hated him on principle before that, you guys she learned to hate."

"Okay, moving on," Tony waved his hand dismissively before the soldier could respond, "J, let Cohen know he's officially Penny's personal chef. I want him available any time she's hungry, any time she wants a snack. I'll up his pay, but if Penny gets up at 3am and wants some ridiculously complicated meal, he'll be dragging his ass out of bed to make it."

"Understood sir."

Bucky absently stared towards the doorway Penny had disappeared through, "I could figure out kosher cooking."

"Let the professionals handle it, Bucky Bear," Tony snorted slightly before turning his attention to Peter, "is she allergic to anything?"

"I'm not sure, we think she had an allergic reaction to something a while back she never went to the doctor or anything," Peter took a huge bite of his pancakes.

"She hasn't been to the doctor in a long time has she?" Bucky frowned, considering the implications.

"Or the dentist," Peter nodded.

"We'll have Bruce do a complete work up, just to be safe. We’ll get dentist in here too. J?"

"Dr. Banner would be happy to see Penny anytime today and I am sending a request to your own dentist sir."

"Tell Bruce we'll head his way once Penny finishes eating," Steve had a tendency to look up at the ceiling occasionally when speaking to JARVIS despite knowing he wasn't up there, "will you let us know once she's done? I want to give her some time to calm down."

"Once she has finished her meal I will direct her Dr. Banner's lab—"

"J, you'll tell them when," Tony ordered, quickly noticing the way his AI tried to steer his words, "the soldiers will accompany her. Going down to the kitchen by herself was a stretch, she can't be wandering around unattended this soon."

"She was hungry, sir."

Steve and Bucky exchanged a glance; the AI sounded defensive but there was a derisive tone to him as well, aimed at the soldiers. They were the ones supposed to be taking care of Penny and yet she was hungry. JARVIS was unimpressed with them and had a surprisingly strong attachment to Penny after such a short time.

"Yeah, yeah, J, just let them know a few minutes before she's done eating," Tony turned his attention to Peter, "baby, why don't you go take a shower before we head to the lab?"

Peter felt his eyebrows furrow in confusion. Usually, showering before going to the lab was sort of a waste. They'd get sweaty and gross by the end of it and need another shower anyway. He hoped he wasn't blushing— usually Tony took a long bath with him when they were done in the lab.

"We're still gonna take a bath together baby, don't look so sad," the salacious look on the older man's face had Peter quickly darting to his feet, face on fire as he ran off.

Tony waited until the teenager was out of earshot to turn a very dark look on the soldiers, "wanna explain how the fuck you haven't known for two full fucking days that Penny won't eat anything that's not kosher?"

"Tony—"

"No, actually," he waved his hand before Steve could finish speaking, "I don't care what you have to say. You're going to listen."

He wasn't older in literal years, but Tony's consciousness was older than the soldiers' and in that moment he felt those years. He stood from the table, coffee mug in hand and took a few steps towards the counter. In general, Tony considered his friend’s to be his family. They were important to him, he wanted them to be happy and healthy and cared for. But Peter was his world and because of that, Penny was too. Her happiness usurped theirs.

“I gave you both the opportunity to take Penny, the way I took Peter,” he took a sip of coffee, tapping his fingers against the expensive marble countertop, “I knew from the way you talked about her, that you loved her the way I love Peter. But I didn’t want to. Honestly, I wanted to keep her tucked away where I can keep her safe and happy. I knew I could do a better job than you, but I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

Tony dumped his coffee into the sink, setting the mug in after and running some water into it. Around 10am a housekeeper would come in a clean up after breakfast, leaving the dishes that lived in the house and taking the rest down to the kitchens. He liked to keep everything as spotless as possible because his brain was a pretty big disaster at the best of times and clutter didn’t help.

“You’re very quickly losing it,” he held his hand up when Steve went to speak, “shut up, I don’t want to hear it. Right now you’re listening. This is strike one. Penny is upset and she’s been hungry for the last two full days. Somehow, despite being around her constantly, you didn’t realize that. You better figure out what else you’re not realizing because if I feel like Penny isn’t thriving, I’m going to take her back whether you like it or not.”

#steve rogers x oc x bucky barnes #steve rogers x oc #bucky barnes x oc #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #dark!tony stark #dark!mcu #let's review #let's review chapter 10

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