#its a self portrait again but honestly i think i need something to get some of these sad feelings out u_u

[coccoart]

Finally finished a sketch for a watercolor painting I'm going to do! first of this year in probably almost a year of not really doing much painting of this nature;;; here's hoping there's more to come after this one! ;w;

#it's been hard to try and work it in with all the other stuff I do to sell #after a month of no markets to worry about #i was finally able to have some time to do sketches starting with small oc ones and now this big one for a painting ;w; #its a self portrait again but honestly i think i need something to get some of these sad feelings out u_u #not sure what ill be doing after this one... #definitely got to finish my ghost guys set xD #that unstarted gengar has been looming over me for the past year ಥ⁠_⁠ಥ #sketches

[iturbide]

oof, you’re in for an unpleasant surprise.

!! WARNING: MAJOR SPOILERS for AG !!

at some point after the timeskip, dimitri and edelgard are fighting for control of arianrhod when thales, having been biding his time since he was ousted two years ago, interrupts, pulls out a crest stone, and somehow uses it to forcibly transform her into her hegemon form from AM. she proceeds to wreck mindless havoc on the fort with dimitri and co. barely escaping.

afterwards, it's shown thales retreated with edelgard in tow (having somehow un-transformed her?) and she's… clearly not herself, uncharacteristically silent with a slightly terrified expression in her portrait. a little later we find out that duke aegir's been appointed regent by thales given the emperor's "condition"—much to the complete detestation of the adrestrian countryside (having fallen to ruin from what, at best, seems to be severe neglect). hubert and ferdinand are reportedly MIA and not heard from again for the rest of the story (they never say they’re dead, but given we know hubert, at least, would literally die before letting edelgard come to any harm, it really doesn’t bode well).

the next time we see edelgard on the battlefield, it’s as mouthpiece by duke aegir for morale and her sentences are notably stilted and simple. then she tells us during the bonus chapter where she's temporarily fully cognizant again (don’t ask—its contrived so that the chapter is consistent with the other two routes) that after un-transforming, her body's been more or less on autopilot while her consciousness has been looking on from the inside, unable to do anything.

during the final battle she's being compelled to fight at thales' side and he revives her a couple times throughout the fight to act as a meatshield (though not transforming her for it??? we never actually get to fight hegemon edelgard) afterwards, when he's dead, she's just kneeling there on the ground looking absolutely lost and, having seemingly regressed into the mind of her twelve year old self, refers to dimitri by her old childhood nickname for him in confusion. to which dimitri is shocked before—in perhaps one of the most bafflingly out-of-character moments in the game, which is saying something—turning away and leaving her there without a word to go reconvene with both his army and the church and alliance forces.

the war is then said to still going on (despite the fact that the adrestria is in shambles, just about every prominent figure is either dead, defeated, or otherwise unaccounted for and the emperor who started it is now mentally impaired) and claude is implied to be about to make a move against the central church. the end.

note that this is the better of AG's two endings and, arguably, the best ending of all three routes (based on both the body count and the fact claude is actually in character for almost the entirety of it).

so. yeah. the writers would literally rather have edelgard outwardly reduced to the mindset of a child and inwardly living out her worst nightmare trapped inside of her own body than for the route to end with her in a bad light. which, for me, is more disrespectful to her character than just killing her outright.

okay I am primarily posting it because I need this to be on my blog for reference purposes instead of stashed in my inbox or lost to the ether but just

good gods

I honestly didn’t think that the character assassination could get much worse after what I’d heard about Golden Wildfire but somehow this ramps it up again you’re absolutely right this is utterly disrespectful for Edelgard’s character

And it doesn’t even make the plot contrivance any easier to stomach.  Thales isn’t responsible for Edelgard’s transformation into her Hegemon form in Three Houses: she transforms seemingly of her own volition as a means of trying to achieve enough power to stop Dimitri and turn the tides of this war (and possibly to clue Dimitri in on the fact that the other power at play alongside the Empire likely won’t fall with her -- a silent warning to stay vigilant for Those Who Slither, who are otherwise unaddressed in Azure Moon).  Thales is dead when she takes on her Hegemon form in Three Houses, and she never uses that form in other routes...so if he had that power, why didn’t he use it in Three Houses?  Given that the Twisted were ousted early, the capacity had to have been implanted well before that, meaning it had to have been possible in Three Houses, so including it here but giving Edelgard a ‘happy ending’ in Three Houses when she openly went against the Twisted at Arianrhod.  They could have -- and arguably should have -- let her finish off Rhea and then exerted full control over her.  It makes the whole CF ending reek of lies, knowing they could just do that the whole time.

(And this is coming from me, who thinks that CF’s endcards came up too rosy given the hard road she likely had ahead after conquering her way through two independent nations.  Even I wanted to see Edelgard do something that wasn’t ‘get leashed to Thales will and forced into the same role of puppet Emperor that her father was chained to.’)

I had heard so many interesting things about Azure Gleam being a good route with solid characterizations, but if they’re doing that to Edelgard I’m starting to question my sanity about what makes for a good route.

#answered #asperrusual #fire emblem warriors: three hopes #fewth spoilers #do i even want to know what happens in scarlet blaze #aside from ferdinand having a character arc apparently #i'm absolutely distraught about edelgard meeting that kind of end #she didn't deserve that #how could the same team of writers that made three houses have made this

[a-rare-female-blaziken]

Ok so thinking about ara again but for some reason I zeroed in on ZoroAra (aka the au where she dies in hisui and becomes A zoroark). Sent her to uva academy for some reason, mostly because I wanted to think about what her dorm would look like, so here's some details (im rambling rn):

The curtains are always drawn to darken the room, and the temperature's always pretty low

She has a few framed pictures, including: A very old-looking picture of her and the Hisui Gang, A more recent picture of her ten-year-old self with her family and the Hoenn gang, and a fairly new picture of her with Ingo and Emmet. Also, some group shots and portrait shots of her various Pokemon.

If the player was to look at her bed, the text would read, "There's a lot of white Pokemon hair on the sheets." (Btw none of her Pokemon have white fur. Ooooh how mysterious I wonder how that got there)

She has a carved Pokeshi doll on her windowsill.

She also has a bookshelf with a number of books. Sitting front and center is a thick book with a blue cover. The pages are worn, yellowed, heavily annotated with multiple different people's handwriting, and have lots of notes and other papers sticking out from between the pages. (Professor Laventon transcribed all the data to a different book and let her keep the original dex when she had to leave.) If interacted with, it would open up a menu that would let the player go to the following pages: Decidueye, Gallade, Garchomp, Walrein, Ninetails, Dusclops, and Zoroark (aka her Hisuian team and her.) It would open up to the actual pages and PLA dex entries for the Pokemon, with a few extra notes in the margins.

Her kitchen would feature a teapot on the stove and a recipe book open to potato mochi lol

the whole theming of the room would probably be light purples, pinks, and greens. I feel like those colors just suit her.

Besides details in her room, I think it'd be funny if npcs would sometimes talk about her and how strange she is. Stuff like she only ever attends night classes, she has strangely glowy yellow eyes, her hair always seems to float, her teeth are sharp, and the way she talks to Pokemon you'd think she understands their language. Probably one or two would mention how she used to be the Champion of the Hoenn Region, but went missing for a couple years and came back... strange.

Ara can't create perfect illusions because she's bad at being a Zoroark and also deception is simply not in her nature. Disguising herself as a human, she can get pretty close, but Zoroark elements tend to bleed through.

The only people in on the secret are Clavell because he's the director and probably should know, Nurse Miriam because what if Ara gets hurt and needs her help or something, and Jacq because he's her uncle. Raifort is probably on to her but doesn't know anything for certain. Oh and dammit Geeta would probably have to know but I hate Geeta so we'll ignore that fact

Its a little awkward, technically being a Pokemon who trains Pokemon, but she talks it out with the Pokemon she catches and makes sure they're cool with it. If they're not, she doesn't mind releasing them.

Honestly she's just here to keep her nose clean and do the gym challenge, trying to relieve her early days as a trainer before Everything. No missions from Arceus, no saving the world, no taking down evil teams, no maniacal legend-obsessed people trying to take over the world by stealing ancient magical artifacts, no time travel-- oh arceus damn it there's a time machine. She probably gets sucked into Operation Starfall a little but the player would still be doing the bulk

Yeah she'd somehow, against her better judgement, end up on the Area Zero mission, where she'd have to reveal her secret to the player, Nemona, Arven, and Penny. But honestly they're cool with it. Fluffy

Wow this turned out longer than I meant it to

#ramblings #oc thoughts #oc: ara

[sapphosfriend]

Leave

Im not doing too good. It feels like I have no control over my life. I lost my job in February and am still fighting for unemployment. I havent been able to find a job either. Im qualified, I have experience, but I cant get past a phone interview. Its not the only place Im being ghosted. I cant seem to meet people in person and Im getting nowhere online. I try with my profile, good description. Summary up top and expanded upon underneath. Good photos with the only edits being to the lighting. Portraits and me doing things. I get likes, Ill match with plenty of people. I send quality messages and am left on read. I matched with a girl recently was on paper extremely compatible. Personality types and star signs were perfect pairs if you believe in that kind of thing. But our likes, dreams, contrast were good too. I sent 2 messages 2 days apart, no response and she unmatched me. I stand by the fact that those who want to be in your life will make the effort and those who dont wont. I will try twice and if you fall short twice without trying to adjust then I stop. It doesnt stop the pain, even here just being a lingering sting. Bad relationships in the past plus stress made me lose friends. Only 2 people I have that care are on the other side of the country with their own lives, and their own pain. We text but its slow. I dont have the money and barely have the energy to go out and try and meet people. Just trying to make friends. Im 25 and feel like I havent even had a chance to live. And Much of that is my own fault. Getting into and staying in abusive relationships. Trying to not be alive, and failing, and living with the aftermath. I barely get enough gig work to eat, and make rent. All I do is stay inside with just me and my cat or go to the gym. As much as I need quality people in my life I need to get out of this city. Its beautiful like my ex-wife. It pains me when I see it, and still love it regardless. Like her I need to walk away, but only for a day this time. I need to be surrounded by the world, not brick and concrete. There's no public transit to the beautiful trails of the Pacific Northwest, and my car caught fire a year ago, so I dont have the means to be with Her, the one who gave us life and meaning. The Earth. Im trying, and Im fighting. I know something has to work eventually. Maybe next year Ill read this and laugh at how silly I am to feel this way. And sure, some good has come in the midst of this, but its all underlaid with the pain of now. So its hard to not be sad when I think of it. In a year Ill watch the recordings of the TS concert I got into somehow. Ill tell my mother I love her, because we speaking again after 4 years. And Ill be so fucking happy. But that doesnt help the now be good. And to you, dear reader of a strangers pain; you may feel a concern for me, my safety. After all I did elude to previous self termination, but Im honestly too tired to think about it for more than a moment. I know pain will only make more pain, and know if I go all in I will fail like every time before. It wont help, so I wont do it. Healing is hard. And I will always have cracks, but part of healing is making sure they never open again. I think I sealed that one with gold. Ill never not see it, but I wont let the seal break either.

#pain #journal #grief #SH #writing #poetry #pretentious #love #hope #wanderlust

[fiveisnumber1]

The Vortex That Takes Me To You - "Me, Lu, and Five Times Two" Side Story

Main story parts:

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

_________________________

"Wait!" Five called out as he tried to hand you the briefcase

It was too late though as Luther pushed him into the vortex to 2019. As Five held the now-defunct half of the briefcase he fell through time for what felt like a matter of seconds before hitting the ground of the courtyard behind the academy. With a giant flash, the spot in the sky where the blue used to be was now gone. From afar the five known living Hargreeves siblings slowly approached the person who dropped from the sky.  Slowly, Five got up from the ground throwing the broken briefcase away as he dusted the dirt and leaves off his clothing. Approaching closer the group looks on in confusion as Klaus asks,

"Does anyone else see a slightly older version of little number Five or is that just me?"

Five took a look down at himself. His suit was too loose now and when he looked at his hands he saw no more wrinkles or signs of old age. There was a leftover puddle nearby from rain that must've occurred early and as he bent over it he saw the version of himself that he had left only moments ago. Bringing a hand up to his face, he stared at his newly youthful reflection.

"I'm young again." He whispered to himself

At the same time that this was happening you were making your way to the florist to pick up flowers that Pogo had ordered. As you walked to the shop you felt that something was wrong. No, not wrong, but different. From behind you, you felt a molecular disturbance and a giant one at that. As you continued to walk to the shop the physical pain grew so much that you had to stop and bend over. It felt like your insides were being torn apart bit by bit. Somehow managing to turn around you felt the direction it was coming from. It was coming from back towards the house. The pain of the disturbance went on for a few more seconds but then abruptly it stopped. Catching your breath, you stood back up but something felt familiar in a way. It was like an odd chill of deja vu but you had never experienced this before. But if the disturbance was coming from the house then the flowers could wait. Reginald didn't deserve flowers anyway. Quickly, you started sprinting back towards the Academy trying to get there as quickly as you could.

Back at the house, the five Hargreeves siblings sat around the kitchen table as they watched the newly returned Five make a sandwich. It had been years since they had last seen him and a lot had changed in that time. Everyone had their own thoughts and feelings on the matter and some were more upset than others. Five wasn't exactly sure what to say to them after all this time. It was quite a complicated situation to be in. Trying to not let his uncertainty show, Five stoically questioned,

"What is the date? The exact date."

The group stays quiet for a second before Vanya states,

"The 24th."

"Of?" Five pressed

"March," Vanya replies

"Good." Five comments

This was exactly the time that he was planning to be here, on the day of his father's funeral. Thank god that man was dead. If he was alive he would never hear the end of it.

"So are we gonna talk about what just happened?" Luther asks

It was no surprise to Five that Luther would speak up. Even after all this time, he was trying to take the lead on things. Instead of responding to his brother, Five puts two slices of bread down on a cutting board and focuses on his desired food item. He hadn't eaten all day and apparently paradox psychosis was a real energy drainer. He needed a second before he was going to explain anything. Standing up, Luther looks down to Five and states firmly,

"It's been 17 years." 

"It's been a lot longer than that." Five replies immediately jumping behind Luther to find marshmallows

"I didn't miss that." Luther comments

While Five looks around the kitchen for the marshmallows, Diego asks accusingly,

"So where'd you go?"

Of course, an accusatory tone. How could Diego not have one? Five could just tell that Diego was upset not because he had disappeared for years but because he was the one that made you disappear for years. If only the siblings cared for each other as much as Diego cared for you, maybe things would be different. Five didn't have time for Diego's older brother shtick though. Jumping back to the table with the marshmallows, Five bluntly replied,

"The future. It's shit by the way."

"Called it!" Klaus exclaims

Five turned towards the refrigerator to get peanut butter for his sandwich, his mind wandering as he thought back to his time in the apocalypse. 45 years. He was so arrogant to think he could time travel. Grabbing the peanut butter jar, Five talks aloud,

"I should've listened to the old man. You know jumping through space is one thing, jumping through time is a toss of the dice."

Unscrewing the lid of the peanut butter jar Five looks up from the sandwich he was making and at his siblings before him. The last time he had seen them all together was as corpses. And before that, they were all still children. It was a lot to take in but he was focused on his task of stopping the apocalypse. He had the information he needed on what caused it, but he needed to find the right time to discuss it with everyone. Keeping a stoic look he tries to deflect his mind to something else by commenting to Klaus,

"Nice dress."

"Oh, Danke," Klaus responds playing with some of the loose straps

As he starts to assemble the sandwich he was making Vanya questions him,

"So how did you get back?"

"In the end, I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time." Five responds

"That makes no sense," Diego says confused

"Well, it would if you were smarter." Five remarks

Diego angrily stands up and stares down Five attempting to get towards him to attack him. Instead, Luther stands up puts out an arm to hold him back. Honestly, it didn't matter if Luther was there to stop Diego or not. He was all bark and no bite.

"How long were you there?" Luther asks

"45 years." Five states bluntly "Give or take."

Luther and Diego both sit back down in unison. All the siblings stare at their brother with wide eyes in shock at his statement. 45 years?

"So what are you saying? You're 58?" Luther asks

"No. My consciousness is 58. My body is 18 again." Five retorts

With his sandwich put together, Five walks off to the side of the table they all sat around and faces away from his siblings.

"How does that even work?" Vanya inquires

"I used the improper equation when I was forced through time." Five replies

"Improper equation?" Vanya questions

Electing to ignore Vanya's question, Five turns back towards his siblings at the table. There was no reason to explain all that had happened before he came here. It was unnecessary and would probably worry his siblings more than they needed to be, or perhaps even enrage them and there was no way he was going to stop the apocalypse if his siblings weren't willing to work together. Picking up a newspaper detailing the death of his father, Five takes a look at it before commenting unamused,

"Guessed I missed the funeral."

"How did you know about that?" Luther asks

"What part of the future do you not understand." Five remarks to him, his eyes not leaving the paper "Heart failure, huh?"

"Yeah," Diego says

"No," Luther adds

Ah, yes. One and Two still fighting to be the leader of the family as if it hadn't been years since the dissolution of the Umbrella Academy.

"Hmm. Nice to see nothing's changed." Five comments

The Hargreeves looked at their newly returned brother and as he stood there quietly, holding his sandwich he stared back awkwardly at his siblings. The prior self that he left in the '60s said that you would show up when the conversation with his siblings felt over. It felt pretty over right now and there was no sign of you. Five's heart started to race, everything had been laid out for him, and now nothing was going according to plan. Panicked, Five decided it was best to leave. Keeping a serious look on his face he started to walk out of the kitchen.

"Uh, that's it? That's all you have to say?" Allison questioned

"What else is there to say?" Five responded

When he was out of sight of his siblings he once again noticed how his suit didn't fit him properly anymore. He needed to change. Flashing upstairs he looked in the closets of his siblings but was met with academy uniform after academy uniform. Reluctantly, he took an academy uniform from Klaus' closet since it looked like it would fit best and put it on. He stared at himself in the mirror for a bit before deciding to head back downstairs.

Making it back to the house, you looked around, and only felt faint traces of a disturbance. Maybe you were going crazy? Heading through the front door you looked around the foyer and some other rooms on the main floor and upper floors but found no one. Maybe they all got in an argument and left, it's not like they enjoyed being here anyway. Letting out a small sigh you made your way back downstairs to the parlor. Someone would probably show up soon enough. You stood in the doorway for a second and stared at the portrait above the fireplace. You had hated the painting at first, but you tolerated its presence after years of coexisting with it. Carefully, you made your way over to the fireplace and looked up at the portrait that loomed over you. It was nothing like him. No light in his eyes, no cocky smile on his face, no personality. Just an emotionless and unrealistic replication of who he was. You wanted him to come back.

As you stared at his portrait, Five had made his way downstairs and took in what had become of his home. As he approached the parlor he saw a giant portrait of him on the wall and below it stood a familiar figure. Five stopped in his tracks and his heart began to race. This was his (Y/N). Five readjusted his jacket and tie and took in a breath before slowly starting to walk over to you. Hearing footsteps behind you, you stopped looking at the painting and turned to look where they came from. Seeing the figure before you, your eyes went wide with shock as the world around felt like it was slowing down. Carefully, you moved forward towards him almost as if in a trance, worried that if you moved too fast he would vanish. You extended your hand out and Five moved to meet you in the middle. When the two of you were close enough your fingertips lightly brushed his cheek, but you quickly pulled back, shocked by the feeling of something there.

"I think I'm hallucinating again," you whisper

Five reaches out and gently grabs the hand you had retracted. Bringing it closer to him he places it on top of his heart, holding your hand there. You can feel his heart beating rapidly beneath your hand as your own started to catch up to match his. You looked up at his face and gazed into his eyes. Tears prick your own as you softly ask,

"Five?"

Five smiled at you as he looked upon your face. You were so beautiful. Not that you weren't in the 60s but the way you looked at him now was different. It was soft and welcoming and felt like it was only for him. Leaning in just a little closer Five whispered to you,

"I'm here."

You let out a small gasp. He was here. This was real. Flinging your arms around him you held him tightly as Five wrapped his arms around to hold you back. No wonder his other self was so protective, who would ever want to let this go? You looked up at Five. A question had loomed on your mind ever since the day he vanished and you had to know the answer.

"Are you still mad at me?" You questioned nervously

Five saw the nervous look on your face. He knew that you had wondered if he was mad at you for a while. It was one of the last things you had said to him before you...died. Five took your face into his hands. Looking gently into your eyes he answered,

"I was never mad at you, to begin with. I was mad at my dad and one of my biggest regrets will always be taking that out on you and then leaving you all alone."

With his response, a weight fell off your shoulders. For so long you had thought you were the one that drove him away. You thought he was mad at you all this time, but to know that wasn't the case made you feel so much better.

"So you didn't purposely stay away?" You asked

"No, how could I ever choose to be away from my best friend?" Five added

You looked off to the side as best as you could, given that your face was held between his hands, and hoped that he didn't notice the blush rising to your cheeks.

"I don't know, but I missed you." You mumbled

Five took his hands from your face and hugged you once more responding,

"I missed you too. Not a day went by when I didn't."

You smiled knowing that Five had missed you as much as you missed him. Day after day, month after month, year after year, you thought of him as you waited for him to come back. And now here he was before you telling you he felt the same way. It was all that you needed to hear. Well...there were other things you wanted to hear but those were more so desires than necessities. You were just happy to have him back.

"Pull that shit again and I'll kill you." You joke as you give him a small shove away

"I promise I won't." Five replies with a smirk "Although I don't think you would kill me anyway."

"Perhaps." You respond

Five threw his hands into the pockets of his academy shorts and looked at you.

"Care to walk and talk around the house?" Five offered

"Of course. Would you like me to turn invisible so you look insane for old times sake?"

"I already look insane in this uniform." Five joked

"You always did. C'mon, let's go." You say extending your hand towards him

Five looks at your hand, almost hesitant to take it because none of this felt real. Even though he had been around you not too long ago back in the 60s, this truly was different. This version of you hadn't seen him since the day he left. Unlike prior you who had experienced being around him, you had waited every day for his return. There was an excitement and awe that he got from you this time around that made him nervous. As Five thought more about the situation before him he froze up. As much as he trusted you when you said that you loved him the way he loved you Five still couldn't help but wonder if his other self just had better circumstances. He still worried that maybe that version really was just lucky. Five didn't want to get this wrong, but nevertheless, he took your hand. Fingers intertwining, there was electricity you both felt but would not tell the other.

With a smile, you started to walk around the house as you had done many times before, both of you trying your best to catch the other up. The conversation came easy as if the two of you were never separated. Five took in the sights of his old home. Nothing had really changed since he left, minus the small presence you had created. There was a newer piano in the parlor and you had shown off your wonderful room to him. He remembered your description of it from your diary and how you changed it from being Diego's to yours but it was even better in person. As you two exited your room Five looked down the hall at a shut door. It was his room. Five made his way there and you followed behind. Carefully, he opened the door to it and stepped inside. Once more you followed behind and thinking that the sight of his childhood room might be tough for him, you shut the door.

As you shut the door though Allison who had been heading to her room happened to pass by and noticed the two of you in there. Something about you two being together again reignited the feelings of her youth. She remembered the times when you and she had traded secrets about your crushes. The gossip in her immediately needed to tell someone else. Turning back around she went downstairs and noticed the rest of her siblings in the parlor again. Approaching them all she said,

"I don't want to alert anyone but Five and (Y/N) went into Five's room and shut the door."

"WHAT?!" Diego shouted as he angrily turned to face her

"Oooh, juicy," Klaus commented "I remember being 18 and hormonal. Horniness levels are through the roof, I mean-"

"NOT ON MY WATCH!" Diego yelled cutting Klaus off

There was no way his baby sister was going to be in a room with a boy alone. Especially not with the boy who had left her alone and broke her heart. What was he going to do? Break it again? Not if he had anything to say about it. With his fists clenched tight Diego started to march his way out of the parlor. He was going to protect his little tiny princess, but as he attempted to go, Luther, with his superior strength, held him back.

"Let me go, Luther!" Diego yelled

"We shouldn't just barge in there Diego." Luther criticizes

"That's MY  little sister!" Diego retorts

"There are better ways of approaching this," Luther replies

"I want to know what's going on though..." Vanya comments

"Me too," Allison adds

As the group stands around debating Ben leans over to Klaus and says,

"Klaus."

"What do you want?" Klaus replies annoyed

"Is that camera we bought as kids still in Five's room?" Ben asks

"Yeah, we never took it out. Why?"

"The tablet to watch the video feed on is in my closet." Ben states

Klaus looks at him confused for a second before realizing what Ben meant. Getting excited Klaus exclaims,

"Guys! Guys!"

The rest of the group looks over to him confused and with all of their attention grabbed Klaus continues,

"The video camera we got as kids is still in Five's room and the tablet is in Ben's closet!"

"Do you think it still even works?" Allison questions

"It's worth a try," Luther says

The group looks at each other before silently nodding in agreement. Together they head up to Ben's room and search for the tablet in his closet. Finding it they turn on the switch and to their surprise, it works. The picture quality was not as great as they remember but clear enough that they all can see what is going on. As they all stand over the tablet Diego says annoyed,

"Alright Five, what are you hiding from me."

"From us." Luther corrects

The two brothers glare at each other before turning their attention back to the tablet and the two of you in Five's room. Five stepped into his room quietly taking in the surroundings. Nothing had changed, it was as if his room was frozen in time. As he looks around you slowly approach his side. Standing next to him you looked around the room as well and comment,

"It's an odd feeling. Knowing that time has passed but everything looks the same."

Five looks towards you. Of course, you knew the feeling he was going through.

"No worries though, we'll get you everything you need to make this place feel like home again." You mention

"I already have everything I need to feel at home." Five replies, his hand holding yours just a little tighter

Five gazes in your direction but as he does so he notices something behind you. Letting go of your hand he steps around you curious and makes his way over to his desk. Looking down at the object placed there he realized that it's the radio he had taken from Allison all those years ago. Confused as to what he was looking at you followed him towards the desk and saw the radio.

"I can't believe it's still here after all this time."  Five comments

"Well we never gave it back and I'm guessing nobody wanted to come take it after..." You mention trailing off

"Yeah..." Five replies before questioning "I wonder if it still works?"

You shrugged your shoulders and gestured to the old electronic encouraging him to see if it worked. Leaning down Five plugs in the old radio before pressing the on button. The sound of static blasts loudly through the speakers causing both of you to flinch back a little in shock. After a moment Five started to turn the knob to tune the radio, searching through for a station that was clear. Soon the static started to fade and in its place music could be heard. 

As the camera continues to spy on the two of you, the rest of the Hargreeves siblings watch what goes on from Ben's room. Seeing the working radio Allison exclaims,

"Hey, it's my radio! I never got it back!" 

"Allison, it's been years and still no one cares about your radio." Klaus comments "We want to know what's up with Five and (Y/N)."

Allison lets out a huff and crosses her arms. Just because it was old and she hadn't been in possession of it or thought about it for years didn't mean it wasn't hers. Even with her pouting, the siblings continued to observe. As they did so Diego aggressively says,

"Alright Five what shit are you going to pull now?"

"I don't think he's going to do anything." Vanya comments "I mean there's nothing wrong with them being happy."

Back in Five's room, music flowed through the air as Five leaned against the edge of his desk, watching you look around the place. He was absolutely enthralled by you. The most mundane of things seemed extravagant just because you were there with him. A wide smile appeared on his face as he remembered a similar time he had spent with you. You took in the room silently as the upbeat music played. It had been a bit since you'd last been in Five's room, but for the first time in a while it felt warm and bright again. Looking over your shoulder you looked back towards Five and noticed the smile on his face.

"What?" You questioned 

"Nothing." Five replied with a shake of his head

"Nothing? The mind of Five Hargreeves is completely empty?" You joke sarcastically "This is something I'd expect from your brothers, not you."

Five rolled his eyes at you but he missed your quick wit. No one at the commission could keep up with him like you could. As you walked back over to him, Five could see the look on your face waiting for him to elaborate. 

"I was just thinking-" Five starts to explain before being cut off

"Ah, so you were thinking!" You comment back

"Yes." Five replies letting out a small laugh "I was thinking about how this reminds me of our friendiversary a bit."

"Yeah, kind of, minus the food and flowers." You reply 

You were right, there was no food and flowers. How could he even think to compare the two times when this time wasn't as perfect? Quickly standing up from the desk, Five starts to make his way over to the door as he states worried,

"Do you want food and flowers?" 

Reaching out, you grab his hand preventing him from going any further. Stopping in his tracks he looks back towards you confused at your action. Gently, you pull his hand back towards you, causing him to come back close to you. With his hand still in yours, Five asks confused,

"Do you not want food and flowers?"

"No, Five."  You replied with a smile "I just want you."

For a moment, Five could feel his heart stop. Although his expression seemed calm and collected, internally he had no clue what to do. He was so preoccupied trying to figure out how to get back to 2019 so he could stop the apocalypse that he never stopped to think fully about what would happen when he actually did so. And it wasn't until he met himself that he even found out being a teenager again was a possibility. This was the most unprepared he had ever been and the nerves he felt on your friendiversary were nothing compared to the nerves he felt now. If you didn't want food or flowers then what could he do? And then from the radio, he heard the voice of the announcer,

"This is Arlo Vegas with 103.5 WKTU. I hope that even with all the doom and gloom outside today everyone can stay high and dry. Up next, a throwback to 2017 this is Adore by Dean Lewis."

I'm just gonna stand with my bag hanging off my left arm I'm just gonna walk home kicking stones at parked cars But I had a great night, 'cause you kept rubbing against my arm So I'm just gonna stand with my bag hanging off my left arm

Five looked towards the radio as the sound of a soft guitar slowly playing and the lyrics of the song enveloped the room. As the music played he remembered the part of your friendiversary that he could never forget. He remembered how the two of you danced that night and the joy he felt in that moment. Looking back towards you he nervously asked,

"Would you like to dance...with me?"

"I'd love to." You replied longingly

Five guided you the few steps towards the center of his room taking a quiet breath as he tried to calm his nerves. How did he do this so easily as a child? Oh right, he didn't realize he was in love with you then. Turning back to face you he saw as your eyes lit up and your smile widened. So much for breathing when you took his breath away so easily. Gently, he took one of your hands in his as he wrapped his other arm around your waist. You wrapped your free arm around his neck as the two of you slowly started to dance to the music.

Get me a drink, I get drunk off one sip, just so I can adore you I want the entire street out of town just so I can be alone with you Now go when you're ready My head's getting heavy, pressed against your arm I adore you

"So is this what your prom was like last week?" Five asked 

You looked up towards him slightly confused. How did he know about your prom? It took you a second to remember but you then recalled that he had come from the future so he had to have found out about it somehow. You recalled your prom only a week ago, it was fun to be with your friends but it was definitely not the same experience as dancing with Five. With a slight chuckle, you answer.

"No, it was not like this."

"Oh, why not?" Five questions

"Well dancing with you is quite different than dancing with Dean, because neither of us had dates and we pitied each other." You explained

"I wish I could've come a week earlier then. I would've saved you the pity by dancing with your brother." Five joked

"Wow, okay." You laughed

"I'm joking." Five explained, his expression softening as he added "I'd never pass up a chance to dance with you."

"Neither would I." you replied quietly

All of my money is spent on these nights, just so we can hang out Spacing in and out of your dresses, I wanna be found by you Found by you

As the two of you swayed you couldn't help but rest your head against his chest. A small smile appeared on your face as you closed your eyes and comfortably melted into the moment. Unconsciously, you started to stroke the hair at the back of his head casing Five to lean into your touch. It was so gentle and soft. Five could feel his heart start to pick up its pace. He hoped that you couldn't hear so because he had no clue how he would explain it to you. Granted, he knew all the words he wanted to say to you but he didn't know if he'd even be able to get them out. 

Get me a drink, I get drunk off one sip, just so I can adore you I want the entire street out of town just so I can be alone with you Now go when you're ready My head's getting heavy, pressed against your arm I adore you, I adore you

As your head rested on top of him a thought came to your mind. It was something that you hadn't done in a while and something you had desired to do. Lifting your head up, you look towards Five who looks back down towards you. Had he done something wrong? Did you hear how fast his heart was beating? Quietly you ask,

"Will you spin me?"

Relief washes over Five's system as he gives you a soft smile.

"Of course I will," He replies

Slightly breaking away from you he helps to twirl you around, the smile on your face filling his heart to the point he felt it was going to burst. Your laughter filled the room as you enjoyed your time with your best friend. You couldn't think of anything to make the moment better. Five spins you back in towards him before spinning you out once more. As you spin out quickly your grip on his hand slips and you start to fall back. Quickly, Five flashes over and catches you. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist as yours find their way around his neck. 

She kicks the gutter in tight shorts, basketball courts Watch me, watch her talk to boys I'm known as a right-hand slugger Anybody else wanna touch my lover?

The two of you look at each other both trying to catch your slight breaths from the burst of adrenaline that just occurred. 

"I told you I wasn't going to let you fall." Five comments

It was too late for that though. You had fallen for him years ago in a situation exactly like this one. There was something different about it this time, an energy you had never felt before. Your eyes were still locked on each other he slowly brought you back up. The soft bridge of the song played in the back but all either of you could hear was the beating of your own hearts. Wrapped up tightly in each other's arms there was no space between the two of you. Each of you wanted to say so many things, wanted to shout the thoughts that raced in your mind, the ones you always had, but no words came out. As Five stood there with you in his arms he finally started to understand what you meant back in the 60s when you said the pieces would fall into place. Everything about this moment felt right like it was meant to be. Like he was meant to be here with you. As you continued to look into each other's eyes there was a magnetism that pulled you closer. Your faces inched closer as the space between you lessened more and more. For a moment you both wondered if you were dreaming but no, this was real. You were here with each other. And as the climax of the final verse hit, your eyes closed as your lips gently pressed against each other.

Get me a drink, I get drunk off one sip, just so I can adore you I want the entire street out of town just so I can be alone with you Now go when you're ready My head's getting heavy, pressed against your arm Just to adore you

Tenderly, you both expressed everything you wanted to tell the other without saying any words at all. The years of pining and longing to be reunited had finally culminated into something beautiful. Something you both had desired for a very long time. The world around you faded away leaving only the two of you and your newly acknowledged love for each other. Removing his arms from your waist he took your face in his hands, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. He never wanted to leave this moment. This was all he ever wanted, this is what he survived and fought for and now to have it? It felt unreal to him. But it was real. He had you, and you had him, and nothing would ever take that away now.

I adore you

Neither of you wanted to be the first to part from the kiss but as the final lyric of the song ended the two of you slowly separated. With eyes still closed, you rested your foreheads against each other, relishing in the beautiful moment. As Five held you close, he knew he needed to tell you something. Even if he had expressed it in his kiss to you, he wanted to verbalize it, to make it know and make it real. Moving one of his hands from your cheek to your chin, he tilted your face up to look at him. As he gazed into your eyes, with adoration in his voice, he whispered,

"I love you, (Y/N)."

You could feel your stomach flutter with butterflies as you processed his words. There was nothing you wanted to hear more than those words. Finally getting to express how you felt, you replied breathlessly,

"I love you too, Five. You know what this means now though."

"What?" Five questioned

"You can never leave me again." You answer

"I promise nothing will ever tear us apart again. Not people, not distance, not time, nothing." 

The two of you looked at each other lovingly before leaning in for another kiss. As you did so the siblings in the other room saw everything. 

"Awww," Vanya said as she placed a hand over her heart

"They're so cute!" Allison exclaimed

"They are not!" Diego remarks angrily as he tries to make his way to the door "I'm going to go in there and stop him."

"Luther, stop him." Allison requests

Doing as she says, Luther wraps his arms around Diego from behind and picks him off the ground. Kicking his legs and wriggling around, Diego fights like a child trying to escape Luther's grasp.

"That is my little princess! I need to put a stop to this!" Diego complains

"She is 18, you need to let her live her life," Allison replies

"Not with him! The one who ruined it." Diego retorts

"I don't think she sees it that way," Vanya interjects

As the other siblings argue with Diego, Ben leans over to Klaus and states,

"If I was alive you would owe me $20 bucks right now. I told you they'd come back and get together before Allison and Luther would."

"Oh, shut up," Klaus replies

The rest of the group looks over to Klaus before looking back at the still flailing Diego.

"Klaus makes a good point. You need to drop this and shut up Diego." Allison states

"I will not!" Diego replies back

"If you don't calm down, drop the issue, and let them be happy I will rumor you into doing so." Allison threatens

It takes a moment but Diego soon stops his fighting. He was not going to be rumored into ignoring the situation but for now, he would put it off. Letting out a huff, Diego relents,

"Fine."

"Good, now let's shut down this camera and just leave them be. We can talk to them later." Luther commands as he puts Diego back down

And so as the siblings tried to quietly file out of Ben's room and go off to do other things, this version of Five and you stayed happily together ready to take on whatever the future threw at them.

____________________________________

Taglist: @xplrreylo @joebob15274 @insatiable-ivy @fruitsaladtree @angelpeachamber @academy-umbrella @lizziel1410 @ir3neeee @faith-quake @aliens-with-colas @sunsetcurve-1995 @lady-celeste25 @im-dead-and-hurting @nerdypinupcrystal @cherry-ki-d @anapocalypseinmymind @vicassa @2cuteforyourlies @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @shadowycreationcupcake @emily-hargreeves @metor-showers1994 @fivehargreevesforthewin @rinko-san @supernovavision @cicilisthebest @flickbix @hi-v-juice @magykal-777 @zosiaduda @thethirdwheelfriend @mysticracoon @isnt-it-loverly @officiallydarkgeek @lady1505 @always-the-very-worst @tinypandagirl @libidinexx @lemongrabbuns @itwasallred @deadandoverit @shlokage @keksi249 @theoriginalkat @we-stan-fiction @bi-idiot-fanfics @annnagennnie @izzyjojo4 @megasimpleplan4ever @flowertoty @grabthemoneyandletsgo @itsametaphorbriansblog @vanillacaramelhoney @satvaldiva @disaster-magician @margotsfandoms @emily-b-m @bluechildrenlickmytoes @soft-slytherin-sweetie @oceanspray5 @im-here-for-fanfics @thebloodrobin @freestarlight @starcurrent @lilacs-lavender @moatsnow @give-the-boy-a-hug @narikyuwu @whenyouregrungeaff @gabriella-aesthetic @xxtwizztedxx

#The Umbrella Academy #Umbrella Academy #umbrella acedmy #tua #tua2 #UA #number five #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #the umbrella academy five #umbrella academy five

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Totally not me just finding your blog and binge reading everything- ☆♡

Anyways,, could you maybe do a Eddsworld Matt x reader jus some pure fluff? Like Matt being his usual narcissistic self and he realizes he loves someone more then himself (*cough cough* the reader *cough cough*) and he sees the reader maybe having a rough day and upset over something and he tells that to the reader and the reader is all surprised like what? Matt likes someone more than himself??? And its ME?????

"Hm, this could go next to my five handsome statues! Or maybe the shelf with all the portraits..." Matt muttered to himself, trying to find the perfect spot for the newest addition to his ever-growing collection.

Though as much as he searched, the item didn't seem to fit anywhere. How troubling this was..considering he always placed stuff randomly without much care.

"I can always give this to [y/n]! They might-"

But as he said your name out loud, your smiling face immediately appeared in his mind. He could feel his heart skip a beat, and he placed a hand on his chest, confused.

Why was he getting so...flustered just by thinking about you and wondering if you'd appreciate this novelty toy?

Usually he only thought about himself or his friends, but you were different to him somehow. The way you smiled, laughed, and even worried over him whenever he got into some reckless scenario was very...endearing.

Matt may not pay attention to a lot of things, but he certainty paid attention to you.

Setting down the item, he hopped onto his computer and typed random questions into the search bar. He needed answers--any explanation for these warm and fuzzy feelings that were festering inside of him.

After much searching, he finally realized..

It was love. He was in love with you.

How odd, the guy who didn't love anyone except for himself is now in love with another person.

But it all made perfect sense. Lately he's been trying to impress you, and it wasn't because he craved your validation to merely boost his own ego.

Oh no, he craved your love and acceptance of him as a person.

Now he knew what he had to do.

With a grin he grabbed the item he was gonna gift you and practically flew out of his room, eager to tell you.

.............

"[Y/N]!!"

"...yes?"

Matt skidded to a stop as he saw you laying on the couch, mindlessly scrolling on your phone.

You appeared quite tired and..sad, even? He wasn't sure what had you feeling so low. But he knew exactly how to cheer you up!

"I uh....h-here!"

Looking up, you noticed he shoved something in your face. You had to sit up in order to get a better look at it, though you realized it was a novelty toy of your favorite animal. 'That's strange..didn't he buy that for himself and say he'll call it "Little Edd"?'

"You're giving this to me?" You asked, taking it from his hands and gazing at it. "I mean..thanks, but I thought you bought this for-"

"Oh no! I...I just like you a lot and I don't wanna see you sad so I figured your favorite animal would cheer you up!" Matt fiddled with the strings of his hoodie, suddenly nervous as he kept babbling on and on. "Besides I couldn't find a good place for it but I can always return it or-"

"Wait..can you say that again?"

He blinked. "...I can always return it?"

"No, no. The very first thing you said."

"Oh no?"

"....after that."

"I just like you a lot and I don't wanna see you sad?"

To say you were surprised was an understatement. Hearing that Matt liked someone other than himself was like hearing Edd declare that he wouldn't be drinking cola anymore. You never thought you'd actually see that day come.

But you weren't sure if he meant those words as like a close friend or something more. So you tilted your head. "What do you mean by that?"

"[Y/n], I-I've been having these warm and fuzzy feelings whenever I'm with you and...I cried inside a little when I saw how sad you were today." He explained as he sat beside you. "I know I can be selfish and stupid at times but..I just want you to know that's how I feel."

His words were especially stunning. He wasn't flirting with you, he was speaking directly from his heart. Sincerely and honestly.

You were touched, realizing this was a straight-up confession.

So you smiled and set the toy in your lap. "Matt..I..was having a bad day, but you made it better. Thank you. You may be a bit stupid at times but..you never fail to make me laugh or smile."

As you placed your hand on top of his, you chuckled as you saw him blushing at the gesture. "So if this novelty toy's a token of your love, then...I accept it."

"Yay!!" Matt grinned as he threw his arms up, before wrapping them around you tightly. You were being crushed, but you managed to hug him back and smile, too.

His mission was a success.

#clanask #anonymous #eddsworld x reader #ew matt x reader #fluff

[joy1579]

self indulgent

I've been sad. so i wrote a thing to make me less sad. maybe it'll make someone else less sad too or at the very least they can laugh at my “cringe” but either way it did make me less sad so goal accomplished.

Mc and jumin organize a bookshelf jumin asks what neko girls are and MC short circuits his brain for a couple of seconds. no smut just fluff

Moving hadn’t taken long. You had opted to donate your furniture to the local homeless shelter since Jumin’s penthouse was furnished with the highest quality furniture you could dream of. Honestly most of your things paled in comparison to the lavish goods Jumin considered tawdry. Still there were a quite a few boxes you had decided to save, filled mostly with sentimental keepsakes and the few odds and ends that catered to your specific tastes. You were practically finished by noon save the three or four boxes that sat in the main room next to the larger than life bookshelves. Certainly there was plenty of room on them. You never where a fan of negative space on bookshelves but if you were being completely honest that had more to do with how many books you needed to fit in such a finite space. Jumins bookshelves had plenty of room with just enough negative space to look perfectly balanced and while you knew Jumin had told you to do whatever you wished this felt intimate. Bookshelves where holy spaces after all, housing books that change hearts and minds alike that shape the soul and … okay so maybe you just really liked books and that made them seem important to you either way this was definitely something you wanted to do with Jumin. When you heard the door rattle with Jumin homecoming you bolt towards it excited to greet him after work.

“Jumin! Welcome home!” you cried bouncing in place as he made his way inside. You smiled as you saw the creases in his brown flatten and the stress slip from shoulders when he saw you. You waited all of 5 seconds for him to close the door giving you both some privacy from the bodyguards stationed outside before you pounced, leaping upon the business man wrapping your arms around his neck. You delighted in the deep honey of his laughter as he caught your waist in kind and kissed the top of your head gently.

“darling. I’m so glad to be home. How was your day? did you get settled?” Jumin asked as you pulled yourself back slightly giving him room to loosen his tie and set aside his coat.

“everything is in its place except um Jumin there is one thing I need if you don’t mind”

“name it and its yours”

“I wanted to share your bookshelves and I was hoping that maybe you could organize the books with me?” you admitted shyly. It had seemed like such a good idea in the beginning he could show you his favorite books, walk you through his favorite plots and tell you his favorite quotes and you could do the same with him. Yet now as you presented the idea to him you worried. What if he was to tired he had worked all day after all, what if he thought you too needy, or your books to childish. what if he didn’t want your books displayed in the living room because they weren’t very pretty, all of his books where gorgeous leather bound tomes or mint condition hardcovers, yours where second hand at best many where decommissioned library books or garage sale rescues, broken in battered and bruised by years of use. It would make sense to have them put away in a back room where they couldn’t tarnish the pristine collection Jumin had on display. Perhaps you where spiraling, working yourself into a nervous frenzy in the span of a few seconds.

“nothing would make me happier love. We can call the chef to start dinner and begin emptying the shelves for rearranging while he works.” You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face or the giggle that escaped your lips. The surprise on Jumins face was evident if only for a second before it gave way to a warm sort of fondness. “had I known simple redecorating would make you this happy I would have stayed home and done it all with you” he said affectionately running his fingers through your hair.

“it’s not that I just,” you paused face flushing a bit “books are a big deal, ya know? My dad used to tell me that every book you read becomes a part of you and that you can learn more about someone by the books they love than by the words they say so I wanted to share that with you” jumins eyes where so soft and gentle in that moment you felt your breath hitch “I want to know everything about you and, and I want you to know everything about me” suddenly his lips where on yours fervent and full of passion the hand that had been in your hair now on your chin guiding you too him. The kiss was short and when you parted from him he stayed close, just a hairs breath from your face.

Jumin voice was little more than a whisper as he asked “how is it that every day I manage to fall more in love with you?” you couldn’t help but lean forward and kiss him again an all too familiar giddiness bubbling its way through your soul. You loved this man more than life itself and you knew that would never change.

 “so your ‘Encyclopedia of Fairies’ should go next to the Catherynne M Valente series so we can reference it while reading agreed?” you giggled thrilled that his collection of mythological reference books slotted together with your fae fiction so perfectly. Puzzle pieces connecting to create a masterpiece.

“yes I think that’s perfect. I can’t wait to read her interpretation of such ancient mythos. I also have ‘The World Guide to Gnomes, Fairies, Elves and Other Little People’ if you’d like to add it to that shelf” he said grinning like a child at show and tell.

“oh my goodness yes! That’s perfect and your book on Romanian vampires should be near my ‘Dracula’ and ‘vittorio’ that way that shelf over there can be dedicated to the occult, hauntings, and psychic reference books”

“that sound wonderful and takes care of all the written word but we still haven’t found a place for your comics” Jumin informed glancing toward the woefully large stack of manga you had brought.

“not comic Jumin manga and yeah I think we’re out of space though. I um I didn’t think I had that many books. Sorry” you admitted not meeting his eyes. He tilted your head up to look at him.

“there’s no need to apologize it simply means that tomorrow we can go shopping for another shelf and the next day we can organize those. I’m quite curious about ‘la petite cossette’ you said these where Japanese but that is most certainly a French title.”

“oh I actually think you’d like that one a lot it’s about a man who falls in love with a woman in a cursed portrait its actually pretty tragic in the end.”

“How interesting” he mused retrieving it from the pile of books and skimming through it “the art is truly enchanting and you said that manga has its own subculture?”

“yeah from neko girls to shonen action tropes it has its own vocabulary, history and groups of people its really fun”

“neko girls?” Jumin repeated and your eyes widened at his confusion. This was definitely something he of all people should know about! You jumped up and sprinted to the closet you had filled earlier that day with the few cosplay supplies you had. At the time it had taken nearly half your pay check but if Jumin liked them right now the purchase then would be completely justified. You put on your surprise as quickly as possible before rushing back out to greet Jumin who had just made it to the edge of the living room to come find where you had gone. He froze for a second processing what you were now wearing. White cat ears that moved and twitched fairly believably and just as he was able to cope with that your made paws with your hands and tried your best “nya”. For a moment you feared you may have broken him. He didn’t move his face blank, eyes fixed on you. You tried again hoping to spur some sort of reaction from him “nya?” you said turning to the side slightly to show off the other half of your surprise a white tail complete with pink bow and bell at the base where it attached to your skirt. You tilted your head to look up at him through your lashes trying every trick in your arsenal to look as cute as possible but nothing. He was completely frozen. “Jumin? Hello?” now you were getting worried “darling are you okay?” you asked placing the back of your hand on his forehead to feel for a temperature. The second your hand touched him however his face flushed.

“neko girl.” He muttered “that’s neko as in cat” you could see him trying to calm himself. Fiddling with his shirt sleeves and attempting to stay in control. You smiled standing on your tip toes to kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear.

“am I a good little kitten at least?”  you couldn’t contain your giggle as you heard him choke slightly before scooping you up bridal style.

“certainly not, in fact I think you’ve been a very bad little kitten.” He said his voice deeper than normal as he carried you back towards the bedroom.

#Jumin #jumin x mc #jumin han #mm jumin #jumin fluff

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Surprising Finds

Summary- 1.7k. Ransom Drysdale x You. Bucky Barnes x You. Ransom said you could do whatever you want. So you decided you wanted to go antiquing much to his dismay. Warnings- probably a word or two. But honestly its fluff. Divider made by @firefly-graphics​

A/N- I found out @sagechanoafterdark​‘s birthday is coming up. As its a surprise, I didn't ask but I did take some inspiration from her personal series Held For Ransom and All Good Things. Both fantastic series and should be checked out. I hope you have a wonderful day Sage and thank you for reading all my rambles in your DM’s. 

Ransom perched his sunglasses on the end of his nose as he peered over the frames to the quaint storefront you had him stop at. There was a couple tables displaying some nice dishes and other kitchen appliances, above them in the awning were hanging baskets of morning glories lifting to the morning sunlight and giving the whole store a welcoming feeling. “Here? This is where you wanted to stop Y/N? It looks abandoned.” 

You were digging in your purse and pulling out a few bills to stuff in your pocket before pushing your bag to the floorboard and under the passenger side car seat. “It does not look abandoned. There is an open sign right in the door.” 

“Is that even a legit sign? It looks like something someone plastered it there to draw in unsuspecting tourists so they can trap them and torture them. There is a Saks just another hour away we will be passing. You can find whatever you want there.” He tried reasoning with you, about to turn the car back on when you reached over and slipped the keys from the ignition and smirked at him. 

“Nice try Ransom, but today was about what I wanted to do.” You slipped out of the car, leaving him there huffing at you and pushing his sunglasses back up his nose and following you. He did agree this morning to those terms. Of course you might have coerced him with playful kisses on his chest while straddling him, giving him the look.

That look. 

The cursed look you could pull off whenever you caught him off guard. Fuck it Drysdale, you should have known better. 

“Well if I had known you were going to drag me to the middle of some bum fuck town in the middle of nowhere to look at other people's junk, I would have planned out a trip for us instead.” He complained in a slightly accusing tone as you shrugged while pushing open the door with some effort, blinking in the sudden dim lighting that accompanied antique stores typically. 

“Stay in the car then Hugh, you can't ruin this for me.” Almost flippant sounding, not caring. Oh that tone could drive him nuts.

“Don't call me that.” he snapped. 

“Then quit acting like I'm forcing you to come with me against your will.” You shot back with a smirk, knowing that you could so easily get under his skin. Peering around now that your eyes adjusted. So far no one had come from the counter to greet them, so you just wandered into the building. Ransom was not far behind, picking up random things and rolling it in his hands before setting them back down. You hummed happily while lifting box covers and pulling out old records, reading titles and sifting through a few piles of magazines and books littering the shelves. “See, it's not so bad.” 

Ransom, who was currently glancing in a glass case with some fine gold jewelry and coins yanked his sunglasses off and perched them atop his head. “It's okay, but it's still full of junk.” He made a pointed glance at a gaudy relic of a mime painting leaning against a wall. 

“Sure, you have to seek out the treasures in here.” You countered while sidling up towards him, loping your arm around his waist while looking in the case before moving towards the painting he had so adamantly pointed out. “What do you say, we could always gift this to Linda?” You teased and Ransom moved beyond the glass case to stand in front of it, laughing. 

“Are you saying my mother would enjoy that?” Ransom quirked a brow as you made a move to stand a bit away, holding it out at arms length and making you giggle. 

“Hell I know she would hate it, but how funny would it be to see her attempt to say thank you while we are offering to hang it on her wall?” 

“She wouldn't even try. She would flat out say hell no.” Ransom shook his head and pulled out the painting behind it, grimacing at the next one. Some portrait of a man, looking stoic in the portrait, it actually reminded Ransom of his Harlen's portrait that he was sure Marta still had hanging in memory of his grandfather. “Besides, it's probably haunted or some shit.” 

You were about to point out why it was an even better gift then to torture Linda with when a male’s voice interrupted them. You both turned at the same time to see someone come out the back room. 

Coffee colored hair framed around a warm face, dog tags bouncing off his chest as he grunted with effort dropping off a heavy looking box behind the cash register. “I can assure you it is not haunted. Not that piece at least.” The man brushed the dust off his hands as he came around to greet them. “But I'm afraid I can't tell you the story behind it. I'm just helping today. The store owner happens to be at an estate sale. But anything you have an interest in, I can have her call you. My name is Bucky, if you need any other kind of help.” He smiled warmly, holding his hand out which you shook, then Ransom afterwards, introducing yourselves as well.

You had to admit he had caught you by surprise. Your breath hitched a bit and you felt Ransom stiffen next to you, having heard it as well. “We are just here to look around, not for anything in particular. But thanks for the offer.” You mention while Ransom wraps an arm over your shoulder, you could feel him posturing slightly, a puff to his chest, a rumble of a “We are fine, thanks.” 

Bucky retreated back to his project after you two moved away further into the store, looking over old knick knacks and vases that you had an interest in. Ransom loosened up once you two were alone again. 

“What was that about?” You asked while moving to a clothes rack, picking up an extravagant hat and perching it on your head. 

“What was what about?” he asked, grabbing a scarf and draping it around your neck, pulling you closer. A signature smirk on perfect pink lips upturned slightly. “You look dashing by the way.” 

You narrow your gaze as he drops his head to nip at your lips, pressing your hands to firm pecs under his shirt. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” you whispered while he continued to tease you, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth before he pulled away. 

“I heard that gasp of yours.” He pulled the scarf off while you did the same with the hat, moving into another section of the store. “You think he’s cute.” 

You paw through some random box of items, picking through mugs and utensils. “So what if I did?” 

Ransom curled the tip of his nose at your response and you glanced at him from the corner of your eye, seeing a moment of self doubt that you knew he dealt with, although you two have brushed on the subject a few times, you knew it lingered. You roll your eyes to yourself with a half smile and turn back to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Sure hes cute, but does he drive me insane and fuck me so good I’m screaming his name? Or bring me my morning coffee in bed? Do I wear his favorite sweater around the house to tease him? That's a hell no, only you get that Ransom.” 

“You are a menace.” Ransom shook his head, that doubt melting from his eyes and turning sharp again with your statement. 

“Hell, calling the kettle black their Drysdale.” You grin while taking his hand and leading him to the next table. Ransom was about to follow when he pulled up short, picking up a decanter made from cut crystal. 

“Okay this I want.” He let go of your hand, admiring the rest of the set. You folded your arms over your chest, smirking at him. 

“See, complain the whole time and look who’s the first one to find something they just had to have.” 

You stood at your kitchen counter mixing together some dried tea leaves to pack into a tea ball when you felt a pair of arms circle around your waist and a broad chest press against your back. “Welcome home Doll.” came the Brooklyn accent that made you smile, looking over your shoulder with a quick peck to his lips. 

“It's good to be back. I got some really nice items so that once they are cleaned up they will look excellent displayed in the front there. Did you have any customers?” You turned back to your tea, dipping it in a cup and pouring the steaming water over it. Soon the calming aroma of lavender wafted over you two while Bucky and you retreated towards the living room. He settled first and you curled into his side. 

His fingers smoothed along your thigh while he recounted the day to you. A few small sales, some of the vintage dresses that so many loved finding in good condition, a rather nice dresser you had hoped would find a good home and collectible teddy bears that you guessed would go quickly. 

“... then a younger couple came in. They had a whole mess of stuff they took with them. That decanter set you had laying around went. And the woman found herself a “I’m The Boss” mug she insisted on much to his dismay.” Bucky chuckled softly recalling the expressions. “They were looking at the paintings in the corner. Assuming that mime one was haunted, it is kind of creepy.”

You giggled while sipping your tea. “It is, I hate that thing, but people are really into that shit. Good thing they didn't take that one behind it. That one actually does have a spirit attached to it.” 

“The old man portrait?” 

You nodded while tugging a blanket off the back of the couch and cuddling into it, wrapping the two of you up while reaching for the remote. “Oh yes, he's been with that thing for years. Harmless really, you can catch him when you smell cigar smoke. He just likes to hang out. I offered to move him on, but he insists he's happy right where he is.” 

Bucky was quiet a moment and tugged you in closer. “I can understand that.”

#amber writes #sweater writes #ransom drysdale au #bucky barnes au #happy birthday #knives out au

[carewyncromwell]

Cinderelly, Cinderelly, night and day, it’s Cinderelly~... ^.^ Okay..before I jump into the next part of the Cinderella AU, here’s your usual appetizer of random historical/etc. notes!

Although carriages were developed centuries earlier, actual coaches like the kind we think of from Cinderella stories were first developed in the late 16th century in Hungary, specifically a little town called Kocs. (The word “coach” and its alternatives in other languages, such as the German Kutsche and the Spanish and Portuguese coche, are thought to have been derived from the Hungarian kocsi, meaning “of Kocs.”) They then really caught on in the rest of Europe after Queen Elizabeth I of England started using them in the 1580s. The terms “coach” and “carriage” are often used interchangeably, but if one wanted to pin-point the advancements coaches specifically made in contrast to carriages of the past, there are a few differences one can pick out in how they’re built. Coaches generally are four-wheeled enclosed vehicles with doors and/or windows (glass was added in later centuries), and often include a “boot” seat on the outside for a footman and/or luggage to sit on. Coaches also generally have a reputation for providing a smoother ride than previous modes of transport because they’re suspended between the wheels rather than directly over or beside them. After the invention of the coach, one can find carriages (royal ones, in particular) adopting some of these same attributes.

Sadly wheelchairs really weren’t a thing in the 16th century. The first self-propelled wheeled chairs were developed in the mid-17th century and refined in the 18th, with sedan chairs or litters (A.K.A. chairs you carried) generally being used by the nobility prior to that. But there’s no way in Hell I’m not going to give McNully the independence he deserves, so I used a completely anachronistic design inspired by this antique wheelchair I found online, made circa around the 1840′s. Hey, this is a fantasy world anyway, so bleh. :P The flower detailing on the wheel is supposed to evoke an emblem I see being on Florence’s green and gold coat of arms (get it? “Florence?” “Flora?”). You might also notice that McNully has little Snitch-like “wing” frills on each of his buttons! XD

Another fun thing I learned while doing research -- although cloaks were often worn for warmth during the medieval period and beyond, in England during the Elizabethan era, their use was actually actively discouraged and even prohibited, as they were associated with criminals and rebels! Therefore it was common for a lot of English noblemen and women to wear thicker clothing made of wool and accessories like muffs, gloves, and even jackets for warmth instead. I tried very, very hard to find historically accurate examples of period-worthy jackets and capes for women around the time of the Renaissance, and was very frustrated to find a lot of fantasy-esque costume pieces or historical clothing from later eras that were simply mislabeled -- but I did find one lovely recreation of a 16th century wool jacket, so that’s what I used as reference for Carewyn’s jacket in this sketch, though I personally imagine it as a dark red, so as to better blend with her burnt orange and beige servant’s uniform. Bill’s uniform is based off a real castle guard uniform from early 16th century France, though with a much simpler color palette (I see Royaume’s colors being blue and red). Like with McNully’s chair, there’s a crown on the chest of Bill’s uniform, which I see being on Royaume’s coat of arms (“royaume” is literally French for “kingdom”).

In her canon, Carewyn was born when Jacob was nine years old. Although in most of Carewyn and Jacob’s canon post-Portrait-Vault, they end up being only two years apart in age, that’s only because Jacob stopped aging while trapped in a Portrait for seven years. From Carewyn’s fifth year on, Jacob and Carewyn in canon therefore act much more like contemporaries, even though Jacob actually kind of ended up partially raising Carewyn alongside their mother Lane.

Previous part is here – whole tag is here – Katriona “KC” Cassiopeia belongs to @kc-needs-coffee and I hope you all enjoy! xoxo

x~x~x~x

Every day over the next week, Carewyn met Orion at the gate of the palace of Royaume, and the two would spend an hour or so together. Orion would ask her about life at the palace, Carewyn would playfully respond, and sooner or later, they’d end up getting diverted and talking about something else completely, whether the upcoming Winter Festival, the language of flowers, art, poetry, the meaning of life, music, fencing, or (after seeing a rather beautiful eagle flying overhead) what it might be like to fly. Carewyn honestly wasn’t entirely sure what Orion got out of their meetings besides entertainment, and naturally she couldn’t afford to indulge in such entertainment too long, when she had so much work to do around the castle and she still had to find out where Jacob was positioned. But she had to admit, with the King and Queen having invited Iris over to stay in one of the guest suites at the palace for the remainder of the month, Carewyn didn’t mind having an excuse to stay far away from her cousin. Lately Carewyn had actively planned her days so that she could clean the guest suites at teatime, when Iris would be in one of the foyers with the King, Queen, and Prince on the opposite side of the palace. She did not want a repeat of the other day, after all...particularly since she’d also need time to change out of the nicer, collared dresses she’d wear when spending time with Orion.

Orion, meanwhile, was of course getting a bit more than entertainment out of his and Carewyn’s meetings. Through speaking with Carewyn, he’d sussed out some very helpful information about Royaumanian culture, the dynamics within Royaume’s royal family, and both their and their country’s financial state. One day he told his closest confidantes at court, Skye and McNully, some of what he’d learned...but Skye didn’t react quite as favorably as Orion had expected.

“...I gave Lady Cromwell a copy of the sheet music for ‘No One is Alone’ last week -- you remember the song, of course? And from what I understand, Prince Henri and the castle staff have quite taken to it. Not that I’m surprised -- Carewyn has a very soothing voice. I’m sure she performed it very well. But the Prince listening to the words at all is a good sign -- I even asked Carewyn if the Prince enjoyed them, and she said she believed so. She also found their message meaningful...one of Florence’s best-loved anti-War songs, and one about looking through another’s eyes and forgiving past grievances, no less! That can only be a good sign, for Royaumanians to take heart in it. It surely must have been fate that Lady Cromwell and I collided at the market -- I had a feeling we were kindred spirits, when she came to my aid, but now I am most assured of it. I might hazard a guess that she wishes for peace just as much as I -- for the sake of her brother fighting in the field, yes, but also selflessly for the sake of others, not wishing to see any other person in pain...”

“She sounds like a perfect knight in shining armor,” said Skye, her voice oddly cutting.

Orion looked up at Skye, startled by her tone. Her arms were crossed over the chest of her faded blue linen dress.

“Anything else you want to tell us about the fair Lady Cromwell,” she said rather icily, “or are you actually ready to talk about how you plan to end this War?”

Orion blinked slowly. “...I thought that we were already discussing that.”

“Really?” scoffed Skye. “‘Cause it sounds to me like you were busy gushing over your new conquest.”

“Conquest?” Orion repeated. His confused tone then melted into something more soothing and indulgent, “Oh -- no, Skye...you misunderstand me. I have no interest in courting Carewyn -- she’s just my contact point, with the palace.”

Skye gave a very loud, disbelieving snort. “Ha! Right, of course she is -- that’s why you can’t stop gushing about ‘Carewyn this’ and ‘Lady Cromwell that.’”

“Skye has a point, Orion,” said McNully, though his voice was a lot less confrontational. If anything he sounded almost sheepish. “I mean, about 85% of your report was about Lady Cromwell. You used her name over ten times just in the span of a minute.”

Amazingly Orion’s calm, hard-to-read expression didn’t crack. His hands clasped lightly in front of him.

“Lady Cromwell plays an essential part in this strategy. I’m an outsider looking in, without her insight -- a ship sailing blindly, without the light from a lighthouse to give me direction.”

“A lighthouse for a lost ship -- oh yeah, those sound like the words of someone who’s focusing on winning a war and not swooning over a pretty face,” said Skye scathingly. “Maybe instead of always running off and playing dress-up, you could actually bother to do your duty and go help fight on the battlefield for once!”

Orion’s lips came together tightly, but it didn’t make his expression any less composed. McNully shot Skye an uncomfortable, faintly disapproving look.

“Easy, Skye,” he murmured. “You know Orion -- ”

But Skye didn’t seem to hear McNully. Instead she tore into Orion.

“Face it, Orion -- you just like being treated like a commoner again and being able to make believe that you don’t have any responsibilities or worries...well, guess what? You’re not a commoner anymore! You’re the Prince of Florence -- you reckon little Miss Knight-in-Shining-Armor would take kindly to that, when she finds out?”

Orion’s dark eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly upon Skye’s face.

“Carewyn’s not an unreasonable woman,” he said softly. “I’m certain she would understand the reason behind my secrecy.”

This, if anything, only seemed to make Skye madder.

“Of course she would,” she muttered sourly. “Little Lady Royaume can do no wrong in your eyes, can she?”

She turned on her heel and stormed out, leaving Orion feeling very resigned and confused. McNully gave a heavy sigh, before facing Orion with a more serious expression.

“She’s overreacting, as usual,” he said, “but she’s still 60% right. It’s risky enough for you to get this close to anyone right now, when your position as Crown Prince is threatened by the likes of Lord Malfoy. He’d frankly love to have something like that over you. But someone from Royaume? The granddaughter of one of the most powerful, wealthy, and feared noblemen in their country? Orion, that’s dangerous.”

Orion leaned his hands on the table, looking down at the map of Florence and Royaume laid out on top of it.

“McNully, I assure you...my objective has not changed,” he said very levelly. “Everything I have done is for Florence -- for peace and balance. I admit, Lady Cromwell is a fascinating woman, and certainly one to be admired...but I spend time with her to gather intelligence I can obtain nowhere else. That is all.”

McNully looked doubtful, but didn’t directly address it. Instead he said, “I understand she’s your eyes and ears inside the palace, and the intelligence you’re getting is valuable...but don’t forget, she isn’t on your team. She’s on Royaume’s. And right now, Royaume is kicking our tail out there, on the battlefield.”

Orion’s dark eyes drifted away from the table as McNully leaned his arms on the table himself.

“It’s getting bad again,” he murmured very seriously. “I know you said the palace of Royaume’s strapped for funds, but somehow or another, they’ve scrounged up enough to get more cannons, and their troops have been moving them around every couple of hours so that our men never know where they’re going to be firing from next. It’s been very effective. Whoever’s been giving Royaume’s King and Queen military strategy lately, they’re a bloody genius.”

McNully clearly was irritated about this, given the flash that shot through his narrowed eyes.

“Your father sent me a request for a counter-strategy this morning. You know it’s likely if the strategy isn’t one he can execute on his own, he may ask both you and me to join him there, on the front lines.”

Orion did not respond. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but there was something oddly detached and avoidant in his posture.

“I know you don’t want that, and you know I have faith in you,” said McNully, “but your strategy is a slow burn, Orion. It requires both patience and time...and we might not end up having as much of those as you think.”

Once again, Orion chose not to answer. McNully sighed again.

“You know I’ll be right behind you in a coach, if you need me,” he said tiredly. “Just...mind that you use your head as well as your heart, all right?”

Orion threw on his black traveling cloak and headed back to Royaume not long after, hoping to meet up with Carewyn for an evening stroll. There was a notable chill in the air -- if it got much colder, he thought that any rain might instead come down as sleet or maybe even snow.

When Orion arrived at the gate, however, he was met not by Carewyn, but by KC. She was dressed in a high-necked gown made of black velvet and holding a leather-bound book and a stack of parchment in her arms.

Orion tilted his head slightly to glance at the piece of parchment on the top of the stack, which had several “X’s” scattered over an oddly familiar map.

“Plans to bury some pirate treasure?” he asked pleasantly.

KC gave a lightly amused snort. “No, just military plans.”

Her lightly freckled face then grew a bit more serious. “I guess you’re here for Carewyn?”

Orion had been ready to ask more about the military plans KC was holding, but decided not to circle back to it when she changed the subject.

“Yes. Has she been detained?”

“I guess so...” said KC. Her lips twisted into a concerned frown as she looked out at the darkening sky.

Orion’s eyebrows knit together over his eyes slightly. “You seem concerned.”

KC bit her lip. “Mm...it’s just...well, you see, one of the royal carriages broke down earlier today, when the Queen was riding through the country with Lady Yaxley.”

Orion raised his eyebrows. “Lady Iris Yaxley, do you mean? Carewyn’s cousin?”

“Yes. No one was badly hurt, fortunately, but the Queen, Lady Iris, and the coachman and footman were forced to ride the horses back and leave the carriage behind. When they got back, they asked the royal carpenter, Charlie Weasley, to go fix it. Charlie said that he probably wouldn’t have the proper tools to fix it here at the castle, so Carewyn offered to ride out with him, so that their horses could drag the coach together to the Weasley family cottage, about forty minutes away. The problem is,” she said with a deepening frown, “they left over two hours ago, and they’re still not back yet. Bill headed out after them on his own horse not long before you got here...he’s Charlie’s brother, so he knows the route they would’ve taken...”

Orion’s dark eyes had narrowed significantly.

“Which road did Sir Weasley take after them?” he asked, his calm voice nonetheless touched with the faintest edge.

KC pointed. “Northwest -- toward the mountains.”

Orion nodded. “Thank you.”

And with this, he turned on his heel and rushed back toward where he thought he might find McNully’s coach. He needed to borrow a horse.

Setting one of the black horses free of the black coach, Orion rode off toward the mountains, his slightly-too-long dark hair flapping freely behind him. The road was well-marked, but it soon veered off into dense woods as it migrated up toward the mountains. Orion had never gone so far west into Royaume before, let alone far from Florence before. Despite himself, he had to acknowledge the beauty of the landscape. The views of the castle below were breathtaking -- it looked as tiny as a toy, and yet the infinite glass windows made it sparkle like some diamond-like beacon in the darkening sky. He wondered if his own palace in Florence looked so beautiful to others, at a distance. As much as he himself hadn’t been raised a prince, it was difficult for him to look at his own palace as anything other than a cage.

As he went further uphill and the sky darkened, it also grew colder. Orion was starting to see his own breath on the air. He thought of Carewyn alone in the cold, perhaps hurt, and had to take several deep breaths to sooth his nerves. He was never in a right state, when he let his thoughts run too wild or his fears chatter too loudly.

Finally Orion caught sight of two familiar ginger-headed men, standing by an overturned coach, covered in mud and missing one of its back wheels. One of the men was the tall, freckled castle guard from the other day who Carewyn called Bill, dressed in his high-collared blue and red patterned uniform tunic and matching white feathered, blue-velvet hat -- the other was much stockier, but no less freckled, dressed in a burgundy-colored tunic and loose brown pants and boots, and he wore his ginger hair in a ponytail not unlike Orion’s when he was at court. When Orion approached them, Bill immediately reacted with suspicion -- Orion explained what KC had told him and asked where Carewyn was, and was incredibly startled to hear her voice coming from over the edge of the cliff.

“I’m down here!”

Orion couldn’t help but feel a flash of concern. He raced over as if to look over the edge, but Charlie lashed out an arm in front of the taller man to stop him.

“Uh, I wouldn’t look over if I were you, mate,” he said, having trouble biting back his laughter despite himself.

He pointed at the broken carriage. Hanging over one of the doors was what looked like the burnt orange and beige skirt of a dress and several wool petticoats.

Orion blinked a few times in great surprise, his tanned cheeks darkening with a faint blush. Bill, however, reacted with anxiety.

“Carewyn!” he shouted over the ravine. “Are you in your underwear down there!?”

“Ugh -- well, I couldn’t very well climb down into this briar patch and wrench this wheel loose in my dress, could I?” Carewyn called back up rather haughtily. “At least my bloomers are slightly akin to the sorts of trousers you all wear.”

“You’ll catch a death of cold out here!” said Bill.

“I’m all right,” Carewyn reassured him. “Ulk -- ugh -- I have the wool jacket Andre made for me on...”

Charlie took a step forward, his eyes moved up toward the darkening sky pointedly so as not to look over the edge as he called down,

“Bill’s right, though, Carewyn -- it’s getting colder by the minute...and it’s getting dark too. Are you sure you can lift that thing up and over all by yourself?”

“Ugh...I admit, it’s a bit difficult!” she called back. “But I think I can manage.”

Recalling Carewyn’s blatant refusal of help in retrieving her horse, Orion -- still fighting back a slight blush -- called over the ravine himself.

“We do not question your capabilities, Carewyn,” he said patiently, “but would you like our help?”

“Ugh -- don’t be silly,” said Carewyn, sounding faintly haughty. “You, Charlie, and Bill would break your necks, climbing down here. And I’m still in my undergarments -- I have no interest in anyone seeing me prance around without proper clothes on, thank you.”

“It’s no use,” Charlie muttered under his breath, “I’ve tried to offer her help for the last hour, but she keeps putting me off, saying she’s fine. I don’t get why she feels like she has to do everything by herself...”

“Probably because she’s always had to, Charlie,” said Bill quietly. His voice betrayed a lot of sympathy and sadness as he exhaled through his nose.

Orion’s black eyes deepened with some compassion for Bill as he called back over the ravine to Carewyn,

“Your points are well made, my lady...but we’d still like to help you.”

“Ugh -- you can help me by leaving me my dignity and not looking over while I’m only half-dressed...ack...”

“Would you accept us doing more than that?”

“Urgh -- I am...sorry to have made you and Bill come out all this way -- but I’m all right, really.”

Bill glanced at Orion out the side of his eye, and then back at the cliff. Despite his distrust of the man, the eldest Weasley was sort of glad he wasn’t the only one who disliked how reticent Carewyn was to accept help.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said earnestly. “I was -- we were worried about you, Carewyn. You and Charlie.”

He and Orion glanced at each other. Bill wished the other man’s expression wasn’t so hard to read. The castle guard tried to twist his uncomfortable frown into a smile that Carewyn would hopefully be able to hear over the edge of the cliff.

“Come on...let’s get you and that wheel up and over so you can get back into your dress.”

There was a silence. Then Carewyn said a bit more quietly,

“...You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Wha -- oh, come off it, Carewyn!” said Charlie exasperatedly. “To hell we do! You think I was mucking about, calling you my pal and saying I needed to figure out a nickname for you? Now let us help you, or I’ll consider making that nickname an irritating one!”

There was another silence. Then Carewyn sighed very loudly and tiredly, and Orion couldn’t help but grin, because he could tell she’d finally given in.

“Oh, all right,” she said begrudgingly. “But I don’t really know how you’re going to help, when you can’t look at me.”

Orion closed his eyes.

“Describe your surroundings, Carewyn,” he said. “Paint a picture for me, with your words.”

“...Well, I’ve gotten the wheel out of the briar patch. I’m trying to roll it back up, but it’s as large as me, and the downward slope and the ice is making it difficult. Plus the wheel isn’t in great shape -- all of its spokes are broken, so there isn’t much for me to push up on, while rolling it uphill.”

“I would’ve told her to just forget it, but it’d be much easier for me to carve a new wheel if I have framework from the old one,” Charlie explained. “I’m already going to have to make the new spokes and hubcap completely out of wood instead of using any gold or metalwork, but it’s still going to take a lot of time...even more so if the old wheel framework can’t be saved...”

Orion considered the matter, visualizing the set-up down below on the inside of his eyelids. “...What’s left of the wheel...is it made of metal or wood?”

“Wood...but there seems to be some sort of metal lining around the rim, held on by nails.”

“That’d be for durability, I reckon,” said Charlie. “Wood alone would get chaffed badly on the ground, moving in a constant circle down cobblestones or over anything rocky.”

Orion opened his eyes and looked over the broken coach. His gaze lingered on the thick leather straps coming off of the front that no doubt would’ve attached it to their horses. Then he abruptly got up, rushing over to undo the straps from the carriage.

“What are you doing?” said Bill, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Orion quickly knotted the long, thick leather straps together with several complex-looking and strong knots.

“Carewyn,” he called over very calmly, “I’m going to lower this down to you -- use the buckle and loop it securely around the inside rim of the wheel, so that it’s tight. Give it a light tug when it’s secure.”

He blindly tossed one end of the rope made out of leather straps over the edge of the cliff. After a minute, he felt a light tug at the end.

“Gentlemen,” Orion murmured to the Weasleys, “I’ll need you to hold this, for just a moment. Carewyn,” he added, as Charlie and Bill both grabbed the end of the makeshift rope and he let go, “I’m going to need you to step onto the wheel yourself and hold on.”

“What?” said Carewyn. “Orion, you can’t lift both me and the wheel -- it’s far too much! I’ll climb up and out myself -- ”

“Not to worry, my lady -- none of us will be doing the lifting,” said Orion serenely.

He led both his black horse and Bill’s chestnut horse over by their reins, and -- taking the makeshift rope from Bill and Charlie again -- he looped the end under the straps of both his and Bill’s saddles. He gave several tugs at all of the connections to make sure they were tight and secure before mounting his horse.

“Sir Weasley, if you would assist me.”

Catching onto Orion’s idea at last, Bill rushed forward so he could jump up onto his own horse.

“Mr. Weasley, you may want to have your hands ready to help Carewyn climb out when she gets close to the top,” said Orion over his shoulder. “Sir Weasley, together now.”

With a lot of effort and strain, the two horses were able to lift Carewyn and the broken wheel up and out of the ravine. Once Carewyn was out, all three men averted their eyes so she could put her dress back on. Once she was suitably redressed in her orange-and-beige dress, snood, and dark scarlet wool jacket, she, Bill, and Orion helped Charlie secure some makeshift posts he’d carved out of some nearby tree branches under the broken coach so that their four horses could lift it up off the ground and help support it without its second back wheel. Then the four hobbled the coach up the mountain the rest of the way to the Weasley family cottage.

The home of the Weasley family, affectionately nicknamed “the Burrow,” was built up against the side of a hill. Attached to the house was a large farm with sprawling pastures and short, rustic wooden fences. Its roof had clearly been patched up multiple times over the years with whatever kind of wood was on hand, making it resemble a patchwork quilt.

When the group arrived, Bill and Charlie’s youngest sibling and only sister Ginny immediately ran out to greet them -- she’d seen them coming up over the horizon and was beyond thrilled to see that it was her eldest brothers. Bill and Charlie’s teenage brothers Percy, Fred, George, and Ron soon followed along after. Fred and George -- who were identical twins -- were quick to crow that Charlie had brought them an early birthday present (namely, the coach), and Percy scolded them that clearly it was for work and they should let it alone. Orion and Carewyn ended up staying back at a distance, both faintly baffled by the amount of warmth and noise emanating from the seven siblings as they chattered amongst themselves, constantly stepping on each other’s feet and interrupting what everyone else was saying. Neither of them had ever encountered a family quite like this before. When Bill and Charlie’s parents, Arthur and Molly Weasley, emerged from the house, however, Molly very quickly bustled every last one of them inside, including Orion and Carewyn.

“In you go, the lot of you,” she said in a forceful, but very warm tone of voice. “You all look like you need some supper-- ”

“Oh -- no, Mrs. Weasley,” said Carewyn very quickly, “I couldn’t impose -- ”

“Nonsense, dear!” said Molly, as she took Carewyn’s hands and led her inside. “Why, you’re positively freezing! To think, you came all the way out here without a proper muff for your hands...”

“I had to help Charlie with the carriage,” Carewyn said, her eyes drawn away awkwardly rather than looking at Molly, “I couldn’t hope to have my hands free, using a muff...”

“Then both of you should come inside and get warm,” said Arthur, startling Orion with an amiable clap on the back. “Any friend of Bill and Charlie’s is a friend of our family.”

Carewyn had never been the subject of such coddling and generosity before in her life. Her mother had always taught her to treat people with respect and compassion, of course, but she had been a soft-spoken and understated person, and their family life had always been very quiet. And of course at the Cromwell estate, it had been less modest and quiet, but far less affectionate as well. Never had she ever visited such a loud, crowded, and faintly uncomfortable place that still nonetheless felt like a home, full of warmth and love.

Even Orion found himself feeling a bit unsettled by the Weasley family’s overwhelming hospitality. He’d been in plenty of unruly, crowded, and loud settings like this before -- but none of them had ever been quite this...well, jovial. It made it so that Orion yearned for peace, quiet, and returned distance, and yet also couldn’t help but marvel at the positive vibes that rippled off of this family and how much they could give, despite clearly having so little. When dinner was served, Orion had to politely decline a bowl of beef stew because he didn’t eat meat, and Molly Weasley immediately handed the bowl off to Ron so she could set about making Orion his own plate, piled high with cheesy mashed potatoes, sauteed mushrooms, and roasted cauliflower seasoned with garlic and chives.

The Weasley family and their guests sat in an uncomfortable, messy half-circle around the large brick fireplace, laughing and talking as they ate. After supper came the dessert of hot, fresh apple dumplings, and after dessert came some hot tea and scones. After all, said Molly Weasley, having guests over was a rare treat, so they were going to celebrate appropriately. Neither Carewyn nor Orion could remember ever having felt so full in all their lives.

As everyone enjoyed their scones and tea, stories and songs were swapped around the fire. At one point in the evening, twelve-year-old Ginny -- who was perfectly thrilled to have another girl around, for a change -- begged Carewyn to sing for them. Apparently Bill had told his family all about her lovely voice. So, with some encouragement from Charlie, Arthur, and Molly, Carewyn bit back a broad, amused grin, took a deep breath, and started to sing.

“Mother cannot guide you...now you’re on your own.

Only me beside you -- still, you’re not alone...”

Orion had thought to himself that Carewyn must have done the song from his youth proper justice while singing for the Prince, but hearing her sing it in person, seeing her smile at him and her eyes sparkle as she did so...it was a completely different matter. As before, Orion felt all of the tension in his shoulders ebb off of him, as easily as dirt was washed away in warm water. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, tilting his head a bit so that he could hear her better, as his breathing and heart rate slowed. Even with his eyes closed, he could hear a smile in every word Carewyn sang...even when she likely wasn’t smiling at all, he thought. How could she be smiling, when lines like “sometimes people leave you half-way through the wood” and “people make mistakes -- fathers, mothers” rang with such emotion and pain? Was that pain visible on her face? Orion thought not, given Carewyn’s sense of grace and composure...but he heard it, all the same. He felt it -- her heart, aching with a kind of deep, blazing empathy Orion had never encountered in anyone else before.

When Carewyn came to the end of the song, Orion opened his eyes at last. The Weasleys all clapped, delighted, but he barely heard them as he turned to Carewyn.

“...That was remarkable,” he murmured.

Carewyn smiled. “I’m glad you think I did it justice.”

“Mm,” said Orion. “I’ve...never heard anyone drown like that, before.”

Carewyn couldn’t bite back a laugh. “Perhaps I didn’t do it justice then, if I sounded like I was drowning...”

“You were drowning in the words’ meaning,” corrected Orion. “Enveloping and submerging yourself in them -- allowing them to pull you in and take your breath away.”

He smiled, his black eyes very soft upon Carewyn’s face.

“It was...very moving.”

Molly’s face spread into an indulgent smile as she reached forward and patted Carewyn’s hand. “It was absolutely beautiful, dear.”

“Orion’s right, Carewyn,” agreed Arthur. “Your feelings really came through. I could tell the words mean something to you.”

Carewyn offered a polite smile, even as her eyes drifted away. “...I suppose they do.”

“It sounds like a lullaby, sort of,” mused Ron. “Even if it talks about your mother not being around.”

Ginny tilted her head toward Carewyn, Ron’s words prompting concern.

“...Do you not have a mother, Carewyn?”

The rest of the family went very quiet -- some like Percy shot Ginny warning looks, while others like Molly and Ron couldn’t help but glance at Carewyn in similar concern.

Carewyn’s gaze had drifted off onto the fire. Although she was turned away and her face was stoic, however, Orion could see her eyes rippling like turbulent ocean water, before she closed them solemnly.

“...I had one,” she answered softly at last. “She died when I was twelve.”

“Was she sick?” asked Ron, very hesitantly.

Carewyn bowed her head and gave a single, silent nod. Everyone in the room knew what that meant. The Plague had swept through both Royaume and Florence several times, over the span of the War -- one of the worst years was about nine years ago now...probably the same year Carewyn had lost her mother.

Orion’s black eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly upon her face. Molly looked like she wanted to envelop Carewyn in the biggest hug and was only holding back the urge because of her husband’s tight, reassuring squeeze to her hand.

“Oh, you poor dear,” she murmured.

Carewyn raised her head at last, her expression once again touched by a small, resilient, pretty smile.

“It’s all right,” she said gently, her eyes only briefly grazing each of the Weasleys’ faces. “I’ll always miss my mother...but I’m getting along all right. And I still have Jacob.”

“Your brother?” asked Percy, and Carewyn nodded.

“He left for War the same day he and I moved in with our grandfather,” Carewyn explained.

“Your brother must be quite a bit older than you, then,” said Orion.

Carewyn glanced at Orion out the side of her eye, smiling slightly. “Nine years older, yes. You know...you actually remind me of him, a bit.”

Orion raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

Carewyn was forced to stifle a giggle behind her hand. “Jacob is also the sort to do things in his own clever way. Only he’s a lot more aggressive than you -- and more talkative, and arrogant, and overprotective...”

“And uglier,” inserted Fred.

“And smellier,” added George.

“With a long crooked nose and ears like a bat’s.”

The younger Weasley siblings were all laughing now. Carewyn had to cover her mouth to stifle her giggling.

“No!” she choked. “I don’t mean it like that! He’s wonderful, really. He’s just...well, an absolute idiot about how to interact with other people. He’s completely brilliant, mind you -- he could give you whole lectures about anything from geography to mathematics to physics...but coming up with spontaneous gifts for no occasion at all, just based on someone’s interests? He’d need some prodding, to do something like that.”

She smiled at Orion, who couldn’t help but grin fully in return.

“It was truly nothing at all, Carewyn,” he said. “With your love of music, it felt like that song would be something you would appreciate.”

Arthur glanced at Orion curiously. “Where is that song from, Orion? I’ve never heard it before.”

“I learned it as a boy,” Orion answered. “I would hear it sung outside the window of the workhouse, sometimes.”

Molly looked very troubled. “Workhouse? Orion dear, you don’t mean to say you grew up in one of those terrible places?”

Orion felt Carewyn’s gaze on him. When he looked back at her, her almond-shaped blue eyes were rippling with concern as well, though much gentler and more empathetic than Molly’s. He tried to offer her a smile.

“Let’s just say the words spoke to me as well, at the time,” he said lightly. “Not just to me, either...all of the boys there, one way or another, were where they were because of other people’s ‘terrible mistakes.’”

Orion’s gaze drifted down to his own hands as he lightly clasped them in his lap.

“...The War doesn’t touch you the same way here, but...the closer you are to Florence...the more the reality of it hits you in the face, every day. Even when you’re not on the battlefield itself -- even when you’re just at the border -- you, and the ones you care for, run the risk of getting caught in the crossfire. And on the border of Florence and Royaume...in those towns where it’s hard to tell where one country starts and another begins...tensions are like gunpowder. One spark from the tiniest match can set it ablaze -- can make everything implode, and force you to start all over again.”

His face was unreadable, but his black eyes were endless, rippling with the recollection of the fire and smoke -- the red and blue colors of Royaume, on the saddles of horses -- the life leaving his mother’s eyes -- his own heavy, terrified hyperventilating...

He closed his eyes and took several very deep, measured breaths before continuing.

“In such a place...one can find people desperate enough to want to lash out at others, to avenge their pain,” said Orion solemnly. “But there was one sweet old woman who owned a flower and herb shop near the workhouse. She’d had to rebuild her establishment several times over the years, and from what I understand, she finally had to leave town not long after I did...but every time she caught wind that the army was coming to town, looking for new recruits...she’d sing the song just loudly enough that we boys could hear it through our window.”

He absently played with the crudely carved circular charm on the cord around his neck in one hand.

“And although there were those who still enlisted afterwards...many others did not.”

Carewyn’s eyes widened.

“‘While we’re seeing our side,’ ” she sang again, more softly, “‘maybe we forgot...they are not alone. No one is alone.’ ”

Orion’s lips spread into a smile as he looked at Carewyn, his black eyes rippling gently as he nodded.

“So it’s against the War, then,” murmured Charlie. He glanced at his parents, who both looked concerned.

“Did that woman with the flower shop give you that?” asked Ginny curiously, indicating the charm around Orion’s neck.

“Yes,” said Orion. “She gave it to me one night when I tried to run away, to soothe my nerves. Its effects wore off by the next morning, but I’ve never really had the heart to throw it out.”

Percy sputtered, looking very pale. “Th-then she was a witch?”

“Whoa,” said Fred and George, looking almost too eager.

“Did she turn all the army into pigs?” asked George.

“Did she lure you in and try to cook you in a soup?” said Fred.

Orion smiled indulgently. “Of course not -- ”

“Well, thank Heavens for that!” said Molly, shooting the twins a very reproachful look. “Magic isn’t something to make fun of, you two -- it’s frankly a wonder you weren’t hurt, dear...”

Orion frowned. “There was no danger, Madam Weasley, I assure you.”

“No danger! Orion,” Molly scolded him indulgently, “I applaud your courage...but nature has its own way of things, and any magic that twists it out of shape is more dangerous than it’s worth.”

To the Weasley family’s surprise, Carewyn actually spoke up.

“Mrs. Weasley, men tend fields, plant seeds, domesticate horses and dogs...treat illnesses and injuries...cut hair and wear makeup and put on heeled shoes to make ourselves appear taller. Would that not also be twisting nature’s intent?”

Molly actually faltered somewhat. “Well, yes, but...that’s very different from magic, Carewyn! Magic is...well, it’s wild. Uncontrollable.”

“It’s untamed chaos,” said Arthur more levelly than his wife. “A kind that’s done a lot more harm than good.”

“But it still can be used for good,” said Carewyn very firmly. “And if it has that potential, why must we treat it as though it and all of its users are inherently reprehensible? If magic can be used to save lives, or heal the sick, or even just calm a scared boy down after something horrible...”

She glanced at Orion out the side of her eye.

“...Then it seems to be like any other weapon or tool, or even any other person -- something that could protect or hurt.”

Orion felt like his heart was being flooded with warmth, and his entire expression melted with pride and something like affection as he stared at Carewyn.

She truly is a woman to be admired. The memory of Skye’s irritation and McNully’s warning rippled over Orion’s mind and he found himself faltering. Admire...yes. Anyone could grow to admire such a woman, couldn’t they? To respect and esteem her...to...grow an attachment, to her... Even I? Could I...?

The Weasleys exchanged uncertain looks amongst themselves.

“Come to think of it,” said Ron thoughtfully, “wasn’t there that old myth about fairy godmothers who grant you wishes?”

Fred brought an arm roughly around his younger brother’s neck and put him in a rough choke hold. “Aww, ickle Ronnie wanting a pwetty new dress?”

“‘Oh fairy godmother, I just gotta have a new dress for the Winter Festival!’” said George in a high-pitched squeal.

“Geroff!” growled Ron, as he pulled free.

“Oh, but that would be fun!” sighed Ginny. “Dancing at the Winter Festival, in the prettiest dress you’ve ever seen...you’re going to the Festival, aren’t you, Carewyn?”

“Probably not, Ginny,” said Carewyn gently, “I’ve got so much work to do...”

“Oh, but you have to!” whined Ginny. “The Festival’s tradition! Right, Orion?”

“So I’ve heard,” Orion said modestly, “but I’m afraid I’ve never attended a Winter Festival either.”

“What?!” said all of the Weasley children except Bill in thoroughly aghast unison.

“It’s the biggest celebration of the entire year -- ”

“Everybody in town will be there -- ”

“ -- well, aside from the noble tarts -- ”

“ -- but hey, who needs them?”

“Everybody makes the best mince pies and hot apple cider -- ”

“There’s dancing and singing and games and gift-giving -- ”

“You just can’t miss it -- ”

Before long, they’d completely gotten off the topic of magic all together, so the Weasleys could tell Orion all about the Winter Festival. Carewyn took the opportunity to start carrying dishes into the kitchen so that she could help Molly clean up. While she did so, Bill pulled her aside.

“Carewyn...can I talk to you? Alone?”

Carewyn blinked, but nonetheless put down the dishes she was carrying and followed Bill off into a secluded corner.

“What’s wrong?” she asked in concern.

Bill bit the inside of his lip, his brown eyes drifting over in the direction of the fireplace where the rest of his family was sitting with Orion.

“Carewyn,” he said slowly, “who is that man, really?”

Carewyn’s eyebrows knit together. Bill ran a hand over the undone collar of his tunic absently.

“He’s hiding something, I know it. And I’m sure you see it too. He dodges questions he doesn’t want to answer, and as much as he’s even told us tonight about himself, he never gives important details. He lived near the border, but he didn’t mention what town he’s from. He lived in a workhouse, presumably after losing his parents, but he never said what he lost them to.”

“Those things might not be easy for him to talk about, Bill,” Carewyn said softly.

“Yes,” said Bill in a bracing voice, “but he also hopped the walls of the palace, completely ignorant of how tight royal security is and why, has enough time to chase after you most every day, and gets paints from people he can’t identify and learns songs from people who, from the sound of things, practice witchcraft.”

Bill crossed his arms. He clearly was trying to be considerate to Carewyn’s feelings, but couldn’t hold back his concerns.

“Look, I...I understand you like the man. And I understand why -- Ginny and the others seem to have taken to him pretty well, too. But there’s no reason for someone to hold back that many secrets, unless they’re up to no good. He could be a cad, or a criminal, or maybe even something worse. Judging by his stance on magic, he could even be a magician himself...”

His brown eyes narrowed slightly upon Carewyn’s face.

“I’m just...worried about you, that’s all,” he said lowly.

Carewyn considered Bill for a long moment. Then, reaching out a hand, she gently took hold of Bill’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“Bill...I understand how you feel. And I’m grateful, truly grateful, for your caring. I hardly deserve it, and it...it means a lot to me.”

Bill frowned deeply, ready to say something, but Carewyn cut him off.

“But believe me when I say that people don’t just keep secrets because they mean to do harm. Sometimes -- for some people -- they’ve had to learn to hide themselves and shield their hearts...so much so that even when they encounter good people, it’s hard for them to let their guard down. Sometimes they’ve known so much pain that, even though they’re kind people, they’ve numbed themselves to a degree, just to protect themselves. Lied so much...that it becomes second-nature. Or worse, lie because they don’t know who they can really trust...because so many people have hurt them that they don’t know what trust even feels like anymore.”

Bill’s expression lost some of its edge, though it still looked wary.

“...And if he is a magic user?”

“Then he’s one of the good ones,” said Carewyn firmly.

Bill still looked a bit unsure. Carewyn squeezed his shoulder a bit more tightly, her eyes resting there instead of on his face.

“Bill, my brother is only alive, thanks to magic.”

Bill was startled.

“The Plague swept through our whole house,” said Carewyn lowly. “First the landlord and his family -- then my mother...and then Jacob. We were living hand-to-mouth, and I didn’t have anyone else to go to...so I went to the Cromwell estate.”

Bill’s brown eyes became a little smaller, darkening with grim understanding.

“...You went to your grandfather.”

Carewyn nodded. “He disowned Mum long ago, but he was still our family, so I thought he might be willing to help us. He agreed to take Jacob and me in and nurse Jacob back to health, so long as we paid back his generosity. Grandfather then tracked down a witch who could cast a spell to save Jacob’s life.”

Bill’s eyebrows furrowed. “Lord Cromwell hired a -- ?”

“Do not repeat this, Bill!” Carewyn said very sharply and urgently. “To anyone, do you understand? No one.”

Her eyes then softened visibly, becoming grimmer and sadder.

“Jacob was dying. There was no other option.”

Bill looked like he was in pain, just hearing this second-hand. He swallowed, and then gave a nod.

“So that witch saved your brother’s life,” he said quietly.

Carewyn nodded, her eyes full of emotion despite the stoicism of her features.

“The spell she cast bound Jacob’s life to Grandfather’s will. Jacob was brought into the house on a stretcher just after dawn, and within a half-hour...he was up on his own two feet again.”

Carewyn closed her eyes. She could still remember Jacob’s blazing, relieved smile as he barreled down the stairs and threw his arms around her, cradling her like a baby.

“My Wyn -- my sweet Wyn -- ”

Not long after that, though...Jacob’s arms were yanked away -- all of him was yanked away -- held back by Blaise and Claire and Pearl’s husbands, who all had work to together just to restrain Jacob as he fought to reach her, screaming and raging like a mad man --

“WYN! NO! GET OFF OF ME -- WYN! I WON’T LET YOU -- CAREWYN!”

Carewyn opened her eyes, the soft longing fading from her face completely and leaving a much more stony expression behind.

Bill himself, however, looked more troubled than ever.

“You said your brother left for War the same day you and he arrived at the Cromwell estate,” he whispered shakily. “Do you mean that, right after saving your brother’s life...Lord Cromwell immediately sent him off to War -- all while knowing how few men return home alive?”

Carewyn’s lips came together tightly.

“Grandfather sent him to the front, so that Jacob could start paying back the debt I owed him,” she said, her voice very soft and oddly distant. “After all...a man who wouldn’t die, so long as he willed it...would make an excellent soldier.”

Bill looked horrified.

“Then...” he whispered, “...then Jacob’s only alive because your grandfather decides whether he lives or dies? You only know your brother’s still alive after so many years at war...because Lord Cromwell is bound to him through magic, and he’s holding his life over your head?”

Carewyn withdrew her hand from Bill’s shoulder and turned away.

“Carewyn...that’s monstrous!” said Bill, and he was unable to keep his voice from rising. “I didn’t even know magic could do something like that -- but -- but that’s nothing, compared to...”

He couldn’t restrain himself. He actually threw an arm around Carewyn and pulled her into a hug from behind. The small ginger-haired woman stiffened like a startled cat.

“Bill?”

Carewyn looked up at him -- were those tears, in his eyes?

“Have you...never told anyone else, about this?” Bill murmured.

Carewyn tried to turn around, her blue eyes welling up with regret and pain. “Bill...”

She brought a hand through his hair, trying to soothe him the way she used to for Jacob.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I -- I didn’t mean to upset you -- I only wanted to explain why I’m not scared of magic...please forgive me.”

Bill closed his eyes to try to hold back both his righteous anger and his tears.

“Forgive you?” he repeated in a choked voice. “For what, trusting me with the truth?”

“For making you worry unnecessarily,” Carewyn said forcefully, trying to ignore how uncomfortably her stomach was squirming.

Bill opened his eyes, looking both flabbergasted and more upset than ever. “Unnecessarily?”

He roughly grabbed both of Carewyn’s shoulders and forced her to look up at him.

“Now you listen here, Carewyn Cromwell,” he said, taking on the sort of tone he only ever used with his younger siblings when they were being rowdy, “you may get to decide if you want to interact with me or not, or rely on me or not, or accept my help or not. But you don’t get to decide whether I worry about you or not. And from here on out...”

Bill’s brown eyes were blazing with resolve.

“...I’m going to worry about you. Because I hate the thought of someone feeling like anybody else worrying about them is somehow a problem.”

Carewyn was left speechless.

Bill’s face broke into a broad smile through his tears. “Until your brother’s back from the War, Carey, I’ll be looking after you for him -- no arguments, no dismissals, no saying you’re fine on your own. Got it?”

Carewyn looked at Bill, perfectly stunned. Then her gaze fell away toward the floor.

“...It sounds like...I really don’t get a choice in the matter, then,” she whispered.

“Nope,” said Bill, grinning broadly.

Carewyn was unable to fight back the weak smile prickling at the sides of her lips, nor the emotion flooding her eyes, even as she kept her face turned away.

“...And I suppose ‘Carey’...is a suggestion of a nickname you plan to give Charlie, for me?”

Bill’s eyes sparkled fondly. “Well, every one of my siblings has a nickname, in case you haven’t noticed.”

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #cinderella au #carewyn cromwell #orion amari #murphy mcnully #skye parkin #bill weasley #charlie weasley #percy weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #ron weasley #ginny weasley #molly weasley #arthur weasley #katriona cassiopeia #charles cromwell #jacob cromwell #my art #my writing #GAAAAHHHH BILLLL #I LOVE YOU SO FRIGGIN' MUCH MY PRECIOUS BOY ;~; #you go be a good big brother and best friend for carewyn you wonderful thing #also ooh hoo hoo~ orion you can claim you're not crushing but you aren't fooling anybody hahahaha #you'll figure out what you're feeling soon enough >D #we're learn more about how magic works in this universe as time goes on of course #but yeah rest assured there's still a lot to unravel in regards to what happened to jacob... >> #and of course this part is another reminder that charles cromwell is a no-good son of a b****

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Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.12}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 4.4k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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The time before the actual welcoming feast seemed to stretch on forever this year. The sorting took longer than usual, or at least it felt like that, and Dumbledore's speech seemed even more repetitive and boring than it always had. Robin guessed that it was the 48 hours without a meal that had her desperately looking forward to the beginning of the feast, and seeing as nobody else seemed to be bothered by how long it all was taking, she probably was right to think so.

In her impatience, she started fiddling with whatever cutlery she had within her reach on the table, tapping her feet, nibbling on her bottom lip… until the people around her were starting to be seriously irritated by her behavior, upon which she forced herself to stop. Instead, she went for her usual inspection of the staff at the head table. What was sitting up there like? Did they ever feel observed, or were they used to it from all the time they got stared at in class? She should ask about it, at some point.

Other than a few more wrinkles here and some new robes there, things really hadn't changed; they never did. While Dumbledore was speaking in the front, the teachers behind him were unsurprisingly not paying all too much attention. Sure, they all made the impression to be listening, but when Robin followed the line of faces, she could see Sprout quietly chatting with Hooch, Trelawney taking more interest in her goblet than in her colleagues, Hagrid and Flitwick having a very subtle argument about something… and then there was McGonagall, talking to Snape as if there wasn't even a speech she ought to be listening to. Robin inevitably had to smile when she saw the two; McGonagall being very much focused on whatever she was saying, while Snape was listening carefully but pretended to be entirely uninterested at the same time. Robin realized that he might very well do that to everyone who tried to talk to him about anything of minor importance. Then again… he was always listening to whatever she was rambling about, without a single spark of indifference. The thought made her smile even more. Perhaps he simply didn't bother with the facades around her anymore because she knew better anyway.

When the meal finally started, Robin was more than happy to indulge in the different kinds of food, and somehow everything tasted better than she remembered it to. But after weeks of living off whatever was cheapest in the store that day, a fully cooked meal like this was the most luxurious thing she could think of in the first place.

"I don't think I've ever seen you enjoying your food that much." Jorien remarked after a while, and Robin had to fight the embarrassment that wanted to paint her face.

"Yeah, didn't you get any breakfast at home?" Cas chuckled while she again picked the mushrooms out of her mixed vegetables and moved them over to Robin's plate. Some things just never changed.

"Good question, you've certainly lost some weight over the weeks of summer…" Jorien added, and both girls looked at Robin expectantly for an answer.

"I had quite a bit of exercise during the holidays, more than I usually get. Running through nature all day, every day, is a workout in itself. Perhaps that's where the weight went." She only shrugged in return, putting it off as nothing like she did so often when she didn't want the girls to know the truth. "I'm sure I'll be back to normal in no time now that we're back at school."

"You should eat dessert, too, then. Your robes look too loose like that, the fit needs some curve!" Cas replied in an expert manner, and Jorien only snorted while rolling her eyes. Robin however didn't mind, and when the time came, she had dessert indeed.

When the feast was over at last and the students started filing out of the hall to head to their common rooms, the three girls were among the very last to leave, as were Simon and his friends. The group split up into three segments in the entrance hall, Cas and Jorien heading to the Slytherin common room and the Ravenclaw boys to their own, while Robin wanted to tag along with her roommates for the way down to the office. But she didn't even get to the staircase before she was whisked away from the two girls –who were accustomed to her sudden disappearances by now– and she found herself in a gloomy ground-level hallway she hadn't even known existed up to this point, with a racing heart that only changed the reason for its speeding but not its pace itself when her eyes fell onto Snape two steps away now. Bloody hell… he shouldn't do things like this if he didn't want her to just lose it at some point.

"Was that really necessary?" She huffed in amusement, and couldn't help smiling up at him anyway. "I was just on my way down to the office to find you!"

"That is precisely why it was necessary." He replied calmly, with the barest hint of a not-smirk. "I have to patrol the castle grounds tonight, Minerva asked me to switch places with her. So no sitting in the office for now."

"Lovely." Robin sighed under her breath, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned back against the cold stone wall behind her. "And here I was, thinking that I would finally get to have coffee with you again after a week of being alone."

"We still can, after patrolling. Are you accompanying me like always?"

"Obviously." She gave him a small smirk once more, leaning her head to the side. "Are you making me coffee afterwards as a fair compensation like always?"

"Obviously." He rolled his eyes in feigned annoyance, which only made Robin grin more. "I must admit, a week without your insufferable self really turned out to be quite dreadful after all."

"Good. I missed you too."

"Is my house still standing?"

"Would it annoy you more if I said yes or no?" She asked innocently, rising her eyebrows once more, and her heart skipped a beat when he actually smirked for real in return. Always a delight to see, no matter how frequently it happened by now when they were alone.

They started sauntering through the hallways then, like they had done in the past school year as well, in search for students breaking curfew or any other inconveniences they could only hope not to encounter. Patrolling really was something Robin couldn't help but wonder about. Usually it meant for one professor to wander the castle alone, in the dark, without anything to do other than trying to make the night pass by as soon as possible. How dreadfully boring that must be; she was glad that she could make the dull task a little better for Snape by joining him in the misery of it at least. That way, they at least could chat and joke and bicker like always, only a bit more quietly. The portraits still grumbled at them from time to time, which however they simply ignored as they moved along. After an hour, they had caught up on the week's few events on either end, and Snape was quite obviously annoyed by the fact that Robin had spent two days without a meal. It took her a good twenty minutes to convince him that it was fine, and even more importantly, that it was in the past now and thus didn't matter anymore. Still, he seemed to be rather upset with himself about the issue, but Robin knew better than to push him, so she merely changed the topic, and eventually they were back to the usual. Other than that the night was considerably eventless.

It was only when they were passing through an almost empty sixth floor hallway when Robin picked up on a noise to her right, thus stopped walking abruptly and listened instead. Snape followed the example an instant later, and they stood in the middle of the hallway for a moment to listen to the silence, until the odd noises picked up again, from behind an inconspicuous door on the wall to their right a bit further down the hallway.

"Isn't that… just a broom closet?" Robin asked in an irritated whisper, frowning to herself first and then at Snape, until her brain made sense of the circumstances and she felt the heat creeping up her neck. "I, uh… I don't think I want to open that door."

"Neither do I." He grumbled in return, glaring at the door as if it would change anything about the awkward situation. "But as it happens to be, I will have to and you do not. So go ahead and spare yourself the embarrassment if you wish to."

"Nonsense. I'm not letting you suffer alone." She was quick to reply, then made the final few steps to stand with her back against the wall across from the door, and the very second Snape had caught up with her, she opened it with a wordless spell. It was ironic, really, that she didn't mind doing uncomfortable things in his place for the sake of sparing him from it.

The door flew open with a start, two startled yelps could be heard, and Robin's eyes fell onto two kids she had never seen before, which meant they had to be in the years below. They were still mostly dressed, it seems, and she was honestly glad for that at least. No need to make things even more awkward for anyone involved. Both the boy and the girl, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff respectively, quickly snapped out of their shock and straightened their clothing before trying to stammer out poor excuses for what they were doing in a broom closet at this time of night. Honestly, Robin just wanted to snort at their words and actions every other second, but she kept a perfect straight face of neutrality as always while Snape held his usual speech about rule-breaking and improper behavior that she had been a witness of often enough at this point. Never on the receiving end, obviously, but they had encountered enough students out of bed during their patrols that by now she could almost mouth along with his words. She only started actually listening again when Snape turned towards her.

"Could you accompany Miss Parlow to Professor Sprout's office?" He asked neutrally, but without the scowl he had directed at the two students a mere moment before. "I will see to it that Mister Sterling finds his way to Professor Flitwick."

"Yes, of course." Robin found herself replying before she thought, and only once she had agreed so easily, she thought that he had never asked her to do this before. It definitely was an act of trust rather than a burden, she knew that, and that's why she was all the more determined to see even this easy task through.

"Who exactly are you anyway?" The Hufflepuff girl eventually asked, as Robin led her through a few more empty hallways. "No offense, but you look like a fifth year, maximum. Why on earth are YOU escorting ME?"

"That isn't of your concern." Robin replied indifferently, and she was glad that she had decided to take a shortcut to Sprout's office. Perhaps she would ask Simon about the girl, they obviously were in the same grade.

"And why on earth would you wander around with Snape at this time, or at any time really? Is this your detention or something?" The girl asked on, and Robin sent her a glare that shut her up instead of answering the questions.

A few minutes later they reached the herbology professor's office, and Robin knocked three times, then waited while the girl by her side grew more and more nervous. When Sprout opened the door at last, Robin gave her a polite smile, then explained the situation shortly and to the point upon which the girl was ushered into the office.

"Thank you, Robin, I will take care of the issue from here right away." Sprout gave her a smile in return at last, while the girl in the office behind her now looked positively startled. "Tell Severus my thanks too, will you?"

"Wait, YOU are Robin? The girl who everyone's been talking about for years?" The girl in the office asked incredulously a second later, and finally she just seemed absolutely horrified. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry about what I said! Please forget I ever said anything at all, I honestly didn't mean to upset you!"

"Seems like you have inherited some of Severus' reputation after all, huh?" Sprout snickered quietly, and Robin almost had to smirk at her words in return.

"Actually, I believe that this was mostly my own doing." She replied under her breath. "Ever since that incident in my fourth year, people have been weary of me, and as it seems, rumours and legend grow stronger over time. I doubt that any of the lower years even knows what it all is about anymore, but that doesn't stop them from believing in my reputation."

"Take it as a gift, dear. It is hard to come by their respect in any way, especially when you're that young yourself." Sprout sighed quietly, then gave Robin another encouraging smile. "Well, anyway, I hope you two have a good night!"

"Likewise, thank you." Robin returned, and only when Sprout shut the door behind herself, leaving Robin alone in the hallway, she frowned at the herbology teacher's words for a moment before finally making her way back through the hallways to where she would meet Snape in the ground-level hallway they had started out in.

But again, Robin didn't get that far; Somehow, people seemed to take joy in disrupting her plans today, and it left her feeling less in control than she would've liked. This time, how could it be any different, it was Morgan who stepped into her way out of nowhere.

"Miss Mitchell, what a delight to have you back at last. For the new term, of course." He smiled at her brightly, and the hairs in Robin's neck stood on high alert in an instant.

"Professor…" She greeted him politely, but when she tried to walk around him while keeping her head low like she ought to, he blocked her way again, this time getting way too close for comfort.

"And where would we be headed?" He inquired in a bright tone as he moved in even closer, making Robin back up until her back hit the wall. Well… damnit.

"I was just on my way back from Professor Sprout's office." She replied truthfully but quietly, in an attempt to keep her facade up and play the submissive little girl. The act still made her feel sick, but she hadn't forgotten their encounter at the ball; it was very much necessary to refrain from fighting back, and she had done a fairly good job at it ever since adoption this strategy.

"I see." He sighed softly, but still refused to back up even a step. He clearly didn't mind invading her personal space, which became all the more obvious when he traced a single finger along her collarbone and down her shoulder. Robin would've very much liked to break his arm for doing that, but such a behaviour unfortunately wouldn't count as laying low. So she only stared at the ground a few steps behind him and tried not to break her act while he spoke. "After making it to honours in herbology and even giving a lecture in front of renowned professionals in the field, I'm sure you can teach Pomona one thing or two…"

"You… you know about the lecture?"

"It was in the news, darling." He purred with a sickening smile. "I still have the article in my rooms… And the picture, of course."

The thought that Morgan had kept a picture of her made Robin feel even more sour than the situation did anyway, and she honestly just wanted to hex him further down the hallway with a single spell and then dash off like her body and mind were telling her to. But that would count as attacking a teacher, and without any witnesses or proof of her story, she would always end up on the losing end of that scenario. Whatever she did, people would believe Morgan's version of it more than hers, more than the truth.

"You have lost some weight since the picture was taken…" He finally spoke on, in a nonchalant tone that still had a cutting edge to it, and at last he removed his hand from her arm. "Say, doesn't Severus feed his little pet enough?"

A cold shudder ran down Robin's spine, at the same time as her stomach churned and her heart stopped for a moment, then started racing. She felt sick now indeed, scared and sick and far too close to panicking. Morgan was obviously playing with her, trying to get a reaction… but she wouldn't give him one. At least not the one she wanted to give, which was precisely the one he wanted to see.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She breathed in sincere fear, which was working in her favor for once. Why cover up something that was helping the act?

"Oh, I'm sure you do." He smiled at her in a mixture of humour and some twisted kind of adoration. "What do you get out of it, huh?"

"I have no idea what you're implying, but whatever it is, you're absolutely wrong. Sir."

"I mean, Miss Mitchell, that he gets a beautiful and spectacularly talented woman all to himself, devoted as you clearly are. But what do you get from him in return?"

"You're wrong…" Robin croaked out in a whisper, but she couldn't even think of anything else to say to defend herself without starting a war right here, right now.

"Don't tell me I wouldn't find his fingerprints on your skin if I were to take a look… Don't tell me you don't want him to save you right now." He hissed, and his hand was back on Robin's shoulder, squeezing painfully like he had all this time ago down by the forest. She winced involuntarily, and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment to keep the gathering tears from spilling over. Perhaps it wasn't so difficult to play scared after all… not when she really was terrified out of her mind for real.

"Let go of me. Please." She tried to get out as calmly as she could, but her shoulder was hurting enough to make her grit her teeth. The pain didn't suffice however for her to miss how his other hand traced her collarbone once again, only to move towards her neck this time. Her urge to fight back grew to the unbearable, and she had to ball up a bunch of fabric of her robes in each hand to keep them at her sides. "You have no right to touch me, nor to threaten me. So, Let. Me. Go."

"You were supposed to be mine, you know…" He sighed sadly, and his fingers traced down Robin's neck, following the thin silver chain of her necklace across her chest to the point where it ran beneath her blouse. Then he tugged the chain up until he held the locket between his fingertips. "It was supposed to be you and I until the end. But Severus just had to get in the way, didn't he? I shall make sure he sees the error in claiming what is mine."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Robin's emotions were finally gaining the upper hand, and her voice shook with anger and fear alike. "But if you try to harm him in any way, I shall make sure that I will be the very end of you."

"Ah, there you finally are again, my dear… I have missed you." Morgan held her gaze with a smirk for a moment, then his eyes traveled down to the locket and inevitably also to her cleavage. "So fierce… So full of passion." With a start he yanked on the necklace, and the thin chain bit deeply into Robin's neck before coming undone.

Damnit, her act was blown, her neck hurting and her shoulder was still trapped in his punishing grip. Robin had given him exactly what he wanted, she knew that, but it was too late to change that now. Even her facades had a breaking point, and Morgan had found it at last. Yet, he still kept her pressed into the wall by her shoulder as he inspected the locket in his hand curiously for a moment, then looked back up at her with a sneer.

"I'm sure you won't mind if I keep this for a while, will you? As a reminder of what ought to inevitably be…"

"Fuck off." Robin hissed in return, dropping every hint of submission to glare up at him in pure hostility. "If you truly believe yourself to be entitled to me in some sickening way, you're even more eaten up by insanity than I thought."

"Insanity is such a vile word, darling… I am dedicated, just like you are. We have more in common than you think."

"You're nothing like me."

"No, I'm certainly not." Morgan chuckled softly and took the last step closer to press Robin into the wall with his own body now. "But that doesn't mean we have nothing in common."

"Get away from me right now or you will regret it." Robin said coldly, and finally released the balled up fabric from her hands. Witnesses or not, she would rather get expelled for attacking a teacher than letting herself be assaulted like this.

"Oh please…" Morgan scoffed in a dismissive tone, and after slipping the necklace into the pockets of his robes, he placed his now free hand against the wall next to Robin's head. "I'm not scared of Severus. And I'm certainly not scared of you."

"You should be." Robin stated under her breath, then focused her entire energy and willpower into a wordless spell that had Morgan flying through the hallway indeed, a good twenty feet even, before he came crashing down on the ground with a gruesome cracking sound.

For a moment he merely groaned and hardly even moved, but Robin still drew her wand from her sleeve and pointed it at the professor in determination to do whatever was necessary to defend herself. No matter what he was about to do now, she wouldn't let him catch her off guard. Not again. But she also wouldn't be the one to attack, not even when he deserved it quite so much at this point. But to her surprise, Morgan simply sat up after a while, hissing in pain, but with the biggest smile on his face.

"This should suffice to get you expelled." He chuckled to himself, overly happy at the prospect, so much so that he simply wouldn't stop grinning.

If anything, this proved Robin right in her assumption that he had been trying to coax such a reaction from her. But then again, she was absolutely certain that his behavior, his words and actions, hadn't been just for show. He wouldn't have bothered to keep her locket if it had been, he merely could've destroyed it or tossed it aside. But he wanted a trophy, and he wanted HER, that much she was certain of now. Only didn't she know what he wanted her for, or why. He certainly despised her, he had absolutely hated her for all these long years, and yet, now, he still wanted her in some twisted way… Robin didn't understand. Not even nearly, not when his behaviour was so different all of a sudden, and yet so very in line with everything that had been in the years before. No, Robin didn't understand at all. But when Morgan scrambled to his feet and limped back towards her, she didn't get the time to think about it any longer.

"A broken bone or two are quite the lovely evidence you presented me with. I shall thank you, my dear." He smiled at her sweetly once more, but stopped a few steps away now that Robin kept her wand pointed at him and bowed ridiculously low before her. How could anyone be like that?! She didn't understand, none of it, but Morgan didn't cease to scare her beyond reason anyhow.

Robin was just about to reply when she heard footsteps approaching quickly from her left, and Morgan seemed to notice them too, for he turned to look right into that direction as well. Three seconds later, Professor McGonagall stepped into the dim light of the few candles that lit up the partial crossing Robin and Morgan were standing in the middle of.

"Oh, Minerva!" Morgan went straight at it, his smile suddenly gone and replaced by a brilliantly feigned pain stricken expression. "Thank God you are here… You have to stop her! I… I think she broke my leg, perhaps my wrist as well, when… when she attacked me!"

McGonagall inspected the scene with wary eyes, taking in Robin's unfaltering grip on her wand that she still kept pointed at Morgan, then her colleague's pity-evoking appearance and pleading eyes. Robin knew that it looked beyond bad for her; what an ironic repetition of the event that had started it all six years ago. The same people, the same situation overall. Morgan was making Robin the villain of his story, himself the obvious victim, and McGonagall had no clue about what had really happened, but she was made to be his judge either way. But honestly, Robin didn't have it in her to defend herself like a bloody child caught in the act anymore. If she was asked for her version of events she would gladly provide it, but she wouldn't try to change opinions that were already forged in stone. If this would mark her fall from grace, she would at least fall with some last scraps of dignity.

______________________________

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[omgrachwrites]

Tell a Tale of You and Me - Chapter Thirteen

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: You knew that making a bet with Sirius Black was like making a deal with the devil but you just couldn’t help yourself. You had never been a heavenly woman.

Warnings: angst, fluff, pining

Words: 2527

Disclaimer: These gifs don’t belong to me!

A/N: How are we on chapter thirteen already?! I think I said this in my last post but I’m going to be writing a Remus fic that will connect to this one, I want to make these fics into a little series. My Remus fic will still be a reader insert but she’ll just have a proper name otherwise it will be so confusing with loads of Y/N’s running around so I hope that’s okay! I hope you guys enjoy this part and please let me know what you think and if you would like to be tagged! I love you all! xxx

Chapter Thirteen

Everyone – absolutely everyone – knew that Sirius and Y/N were at odds with one another, even if Sirius and Y/N didn’t know them personally; random people somehow knew that something was going on. Even the first years who had never spoken a word to either of them knew that something bad was happening because they’d watch Sirius joke and grin with his friends in the castle corridors, only for his grin to drop a moment later.

Whereas, McGonagall knew that something was wrong because Sirius had been unusually quiet in her class and he no longer exchanged wistful looks with Y/N from across the classroom. McGonagall missed his bold personality and even his incessant annoying pranks. She hoped that he’d be back to his usual self soon.

Sirius chewed his lip as he fiddled with the fanged Frisbee he was holding, scowling down at it when he felt it bite him and he slammed it right back onto the shelf in a huff. He didn’t think that he wanted it after all, “what did that poor Frisbee ever do to you Pads?” Peter smirked and Sirius narrowed his stormy eyes at his friend before turning to speak to James.

“On a scale of 1 to 10, how much does Lily hate my guts right now?” Sirius didn’t want to cause a rift in his best mate’s relationship. He didn’t want to screw anything else up; he just wanted a quiet year from now on.

James sighed as he turned away from the display of nose biting teacups, “she doesn’t hate you mate, I think that she’s just disappointed,” Sirius winced, on second thought he would rather it if Lily hated our guts, “you have to understand Pads, Lily and Y/N have been best friends since our very first day at Hogwarts. Remember how inseparable they were by Halloween? She’d pick Y/N over anybody. I honestly wouldn’t worry about it too much; the boys and I are all on your side. You don’t have to work things out before you’re ready.”

Sirius looked up at the rest of his friends to see if they were of a same mind as James, Remus chewed his lip and immediately walked up to the counter to buy his items. Though, Remus needn’t bother trying to hide it, Sirius knew that Remus disapproved of the way he’d handled things.

However, Peter piped up which surprised Sirius, “yeah, we are on your side, Y/N could have at least told you about the fact she wanted to date your brother.”

It still caused Sirius a painful pang when he thought about Y/N – his Y/N – with Regulus. He looked outside, out of the rain streaked window, biting his lip when Lily and Y/N walked out of Honeydukes, munching on their sweets. Sirius wondered how sweet Y/N’s lips were with the sugar that was undeniably coating them.

“Be honest,” he started, turning back to his friends, “do you think that Reg and Y/N are properly going out?” he almost didn’t want to know the answer. But, he supposed that he couldn’t feel any worse than he already did.

James and Peter exchanged nervous looks, “well, I think if they were properly and seriously going out then they’d be walking down the corridor holding hands and they’d be snogging in The Great Hall like Lily and I do,” James chuckled before he got serious and he rested his hand on Sirius’ shoulder, “I know that I said that you didn’t have to work things out before you were ready but maybe you just need to shelve your pride and tell her how you really feel before she does get with Regulus for real. The problem is that you two are way too stubborn.”

Sirius rolled his eyes as he groaned internally, he didn’t want to lose his pride but he also knew that James was right. In these sorts of situations he was always right. The boys paid for their Zonkos’ products before they left the warm shop to join Y/N and Lily in the rainy country lane. Sirius made sure to keep a couple of paces behind.

A couple of days later, Sirius walked across the wet muddy lawn after dinner to meet James, he looked up with a groan at the dark sky that was threatening to pour down again and the air stank of wet grass. With the last two Quidditch matches looming James had become more frantic with his Quidditch practises; he wanted to win the Quidditch cup one last time. James had started scheduling them in the evening now as well as keeping his usual morning practises.

Sirius nodded in greeting as he noticed that James was walking up the hill, he was spattered with mud and Y/N was at his side, they both looked miserable. When Y/N looked up and saw Sirius, her eyes turned hard and cold and she brushed past James without saying goodbye to him. Sirius opened his mouth to say something to the pretty girl but she was already long gone. He turned back to James and saw that his usual warm and kind eyes were angry, “what’s the matter?”

James huffed angrily before prodding Sirius in the chest hard, “you need to make things right with Y/N, and soon. Because I need my amazing seeker back,” he grimaced at Sirius before storming ahead, leaving Sirius in the mud, he was utterly speechless.

Thankfully, by the time that Sirius had got himself up to the warm and mercifully dry common room, James seemed to have calmed down, he wondered whether it had something to do with Lily running her fingers through James’ hair. James gave Sirius an apologetic look as Sirius sank into the plush couch next to him, “sorry mate, practise has been so bad lately and I’m just so frustrated, I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

“It’s fine, honestly. I think you were right to have a go,” Sirius smiled, he wasn’t going to hold a grudge against his best friend because of one stupid comment said in a moment of anger.

Later on that evening, the marauders were finally getting to work on that dreaded Potions essay that was due in the morning; however, Remus had already completed it somehow. Peter was going on about asking Evelyn out properly, she had gone to The Yule Ball with him in the end, “like what if she rejects me? James, did you ever feel this way before asking Lily out?”

Before James could reply, Sirius interjected loudly, “I wouldn’t if I were you Wormtail, when you show your feelings to someone, you only get stabbed in the back,” he didn’t know what made him say it, maybe his feelings had been bottled up inside him for too long.

A hushing silence fell over the common room as Gryffindor students looked between Y/N and Sirius as they waited for Y/N’s answer. It seemed like the whole room was holding its breath. Y/N glanced up from where she was sitting with Alice and she blinked with a confused expression etched upon her face. In a matter of seconds her face warped from an expression of polite confusion to an expression of rage as she angrily threw her quill down on her parchment, splotching ink everywhere. Sirius half expected to see steam billowing from her ears.

“Oh, would you just stop it? So what, your feelings got hurt, mine have too! But why do you have to make everything so much worse? Would you like to know why I took Regulus to The Yule Ball and why I’ve been spending so much time with him?”

“Enlighten me, Y/L/N,” Sirius smirked as he raised an eyebrow as he leaned back on the couch, crossing his arms behind his head. He couldn’t wait to hear her explanation.

“Y/N, don’t do this, think about who’s watching,” Lily warned but Y/N didn’t abide by her words.

“No Lily! He wants to know so I’ll tell him,” she narrowed her eyes as she walked over to stand before him and Sirius waited with bated breath, “your hag of a mother and my mum – the traitor – have taken it upon themselves to set me and Regulus up. For marriage, and you know what your mum is like when things don’t go her way, she’ll make my family’s life a living hell. The wedding is scheduled for Midsummer which is why I’ve been spending so much time with your brother. I don’t want to hate my future husband Sirius. What else do you expect me to do? I’m doing the best that I can,” her voice broke and those beautiful blue eyes sparkled with unshed tears.

Sirius felt his stomach lurch unpleasantly as his eyes stung, he felt completely awful; he’d made such a huge mistake. He should have known that something else was going on, he should have just been an adult and asked her. The last thing he wanted was for Y/N to become his sister in law. Not when he was completely crazy about her. He knew that he owed her a massive apology, he’d said some really awful things, they both had.

“Y/N, I,” he sighed, at a loss for words. What could he possible say other than he was sorry? Y/N sniffled and looked away from him.

“Good talk Sirius,” she mumbled before crossing the room and she climbed out of the portrait hole. Sirius couldn’t let her go like this; he quickly stood up, not caring that the majority of Gryffindor were watching this scene unfold. He had to go after her to let her know how sorry he was. He had to let her know that he didn’t mean all those horrible things that he’d said.

However, Lily’s words stopped him before he could reach the portrait hole, “Sirius don’t, I’m sorry but I think that it’s too late.”

————————————–

You grinned happily as Alice positively gushed about her boyfriend Frank, they could compete against James and Lily for Hogwarts’ cutest couple. It was very clear that Alice was very much in love and you knew that they would go the distance. At first, Alice wouldn’t talk about her happy love life because she didn’t want to upset you but you had quickly explained to her that it was absolutely fine. You didn’t want her to censor the conversation purely for your benefit.

Despite everything that had occurred over the last few days you were feeling pretty happy and positive. It was a beautiful day sunny day and you had managed to ignore Sirius – and how beautiful he looked with slightly shorter hair. He knew the truth now and you thought that he knew how you felt; the ball was in his court now so you hadn’t worried about it too much.

You checked the time on your watch and saw that there was about twenty more minutes of lunchtime left, if you were going to help Remus then it needed to be now, “I’ll see you guys later, okay?” you grinned, feeling pretty excited.

“Bye Y/N,” Lily pulled you into a warm hug and Alice blew you a kiss.

“See you later honey.”

You smiled at your friends and wandered over to the Slytherin table, “hey, Reg?” you smiled sweetly as he greeted you with a kiss on your cheek; he was so adorable, “have you seen Morgana?”

He frowned at your question and you ignored how much he looked like Sirus when he did that, “I think she said she was going to the library. Why do you want to know Y/N?” he narrowed his eyes suspiciously and you laughed.

“Don’t look at me like that, I only want to talk to her,” you offered him a small wave and an apologetic smile as you hurried off in the direction of the library.

You navigated the extremely busy library with some difficulty and you smiled, with the amount of people in this one room it was surely pissing Madam Pince off. That thought made you happy. Eventually, you found Morgana at the back of the library with her head stuck in a book, you nervously approached her table. You didn’t know how she was going to react when she saw you, “Morgana?”

At the sound of her name she looked up and quirked a beautifully arched eyebrow, “Y/N. What do you want?” she drawled and rolled her eyes as she closed her book and she gestured for you to sit down in the free seat.

“We need to talk about Remus,” you said as you sat down, at the mention of Remus’ name, her whole demeanour changed. Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink colour as she looked at the table before looking up at you almost shyly. It was a good look for her.

“What about him?”

“I need to know how you feel about him,” you started, your protective instincts kicking in, “he’s my best friend, he’s been there for me and I’ve been there for him. He likes you and I really don’t want to see him get hurt.”

Morgana sighed and chewed her lip as she fiddled with her fingers, “Y/N, I know that you don’t like me and you have every reason to be suspicious of me. I have a hard time truly opening up to people but with Remus, it’s just so easy, he makes it so easy. He’s been so amazing, so patient when I did nothing but push him away. It’s so different being with him, different in a good way. It feels more than sex; I want it to be more than sex. He makes me want to be a better person Y/N, I would never hurt him, please believe me. But there’s something you don’t know, and I’m not sure that I deserve him,” she seemed so sincere and you were glad to see this side of her.

She was incredibly human and you couldn’t help but believe her, Remus usually had a good judgement of people, “if you’re not going to hurt him then I’ll say that you more than deserve him. I believe you Morgana, why don’t you ask him out?” you liked playing cupid, it was fun.

Morgana looked away from you and wrapped her arms around herself, “oh, I couldn’t,” she hesitated before looking at you warily, “you’re going out with Regulus right? Would you be interested in a double date?”

You didn’t bother to properly correct her about Regulus, “yes, if that would make you more comfortable,” you sighed wondering whether you were playing with fire.

“Thanks Y/N,” she smiled.

After your talk with Morgana you made your way to Potions and grinned at Remus but before you could tell him the good news you noticed that Sirius was gazing at you. His stormy grey eyes were wary and vulnerable, and when he spoke to you it was in a civilised tone that you hadn’t heard in so long.

“Y/N, I think that we need to talk.”

You nodded at him, this was either going to be a very good thing or a very bad thing, “yes I suppose that we do.”

————————————– 

@approved-by-dentists​ @thefuturelawyer​ @a-miserable-hufflepunk​ @firelordmillie​ @seriouslysiriuss​ @sleep-i-ness​ @play-morezeppelin​ @pregnant-piggy​ @sleepingalaska​ @smiithys​ @blisfvll​ @rexorangecouny​ @findzelda​ @wangmangagavroche​ @the-moon-and-the-book​ @hxrgreeves​ @ghostofstudentspast​ @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon​ @my-unique-mind​ @im-an-angel-of-the-lord-you-ass​ @acciovisio​ @obsessedwithrandomthings​ @kashishwrites​

#sirius #sirius black #sirius orion black #pads #padfoot #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #sirius imagine #sirius fanfiction #sirius fluff #sirius angst #mutal pining #sirius x reader #sirius x reader insert #sirius x y/n #sirius x you #you x sirius #sirius black x reader #sirius black x reader insert #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #you x sirius black #ben barnes #james potter #lily evans #jly #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #regulus black #the marauders #the marauders era

[flying-nightwing]

Act IV: The Finale

Hi people! Finally the last part of this short serie! Honestly I had no expactation for it but I think it might slither into my all time favourite things I’ve written. I won’t lie, I think I’m in love with this last chapter. I feel like it’s the part we really understand both characters and their motivations in relation to each other. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! 

Edit: I realize I have kept this gender neutral! so I change it on the infos on the first part and this one

Parts 1-3 in Masterlist!

Pairing: Tim Drake x gender neutral reader

Word count: 3456

Warnings: language, mention of violence (non-graphic)

“... And this is why I have taken the decision to repeal the vigilante act. All measures taken by the city and GCPD to collaborate with vigilantes on the matters listed are to be repelled at this instant. We will no longer tolerate criminals telling us how to protect our city and all arrest mandates out for vigilantes are to be reactivated--”

Tim passed a hand in his face after Bruce turned off the TV. There was some serious tensions going on in the batcave, especially after this gruesome live tape of the mayor, visibly held hostage in some kind of basement, delivered the new order to cancel all the work they had achieved to at least stop the cops from trying to hunt them down instead of focusing on actual crime. 

The first thing he had done once he came back to the cave was to research you in any database he could hack into. He started in the state registry, knowing you had told him you had been an orphan. He had no idea what was a lie and what wasn’t in what you had told him, but that was apparently true. The picture attached was a younger version of you, that was clear, but any update on your whereabouts stopped at age 11. Then, he tried to look for a driver’s license, passeport, any ID documents you could have. He also hit a dead end with that too, so he looked into less savory types of repertories. 

He finally found you in the mercenary databases, with a clear, recent picture and your… Impressive record. As he scrolled down your list of confirmed hits, he felt his stomach sink further and further. Marco Rizzo, the philanthropist, the kidnapped mayor, and it went on and on. What truly put him on the floor, however, was to see your credentials. You were Falcone’s main gun and you had trained under various mentors including Slade Wilson, out of all people.

You were the real deal and he had let himself fall for you, hard.

He felt stupid now. Did you even know who he was at night? Had you gone to him to throw him off your scent? Even after discovering all of this about you, a part of him still hoped you had no clue. It would hurt less to know it was a coincidence you bumped into each other rather than a calculated move from you. 

“So… Your date uh?”

Tim cringed when Bruce spoke up. It was even worse to hear it out loud. 

“I don’t wanna hear it” He mumbled, keeping his eyes dead set on the wall. He knew he had acted irresponsibly, he knew he should have seen the signs sooner, he knew he should have remained alert and not let himself be charmed by you, or let himself be sidetracked from his mission. It was a rookie mistake. 

“Talk about sleeping with the enemy” Damian snorted from behind them. Tim turned around, glaring at him. He was sitting in a computer chair, casually eating noodles with chopsticks and watching the exchange like it was a movie. Of course, the demon had spied on the conversation.

“Damian!”

“What?” He looked at Bruce, shrugging nonchalantly.

Bruce sighed, shaking his head. He returned his attention to Tim again. “What do you want to do now?”

Tim didn’t reply straight away. He was conflicted, angry, sad, disappointed; he had rarely felt such a cocktail of emotions like that. On one hand, he wanted to wallow in self pity. It seemed like the one thing left to do, as life finally sent someone he could see himself get with but made them the exact opposite of what he stood for. But he couldn’t, he had to put a stop to this madness. He had to confront you. 

“We’ll need to set a trap” He finally spoke, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “A contract that can’t be refused, draw them out. I’ll take care of it, it’ll be better that way”

“Are you sure you’ll be up to it?”

“Yes” Tim snapped, and Bruce took a careful step back. “I won’t be fooled twice. I can do it”

“Alright, just making sure” Bruce wasn’t convinced, but he still trusted his son. He knew he'd do the right thing if push came to shove. “What did you have in mind?”

Tim took a deep breath. “50 millions for a bullet in Bruce Wayne’s head”

---

It was too good to be true, and your suspicions of foul play were confirmed when your eyes spotted the red and black sticking out of the grim portrait of Gotham’s roof tops.

You knew something was up when you were offered a 50 millions solo contract. You usually went out for 15 millions for high profile targets, but curiosity got the best of you. The only thought of potentially pocketing that much money was enough of a motivation for you to at least find out what was up. But now, it was clear it was a set up as Red Robin himself was waiting for you. It was too bad for the money, but the prospect of facing a real Gotham vigilante for the first time was exciting. 

“I’ve beaten you twice already” You smirked. “You called me for a third?”

A scowl set on his masked face. “Trust me, there won’t be a third” He spoke up in a gravelling voice. “Either you come with me here and now, or we do this the hard way”

“Oh, now you’ve got me interested” You teased as you circled him. “Do tell me more about this hard way of yours”

He deployed his staff. Your eyebrows raised at his challenge. “You’re arrogant” He stated. He wasn’t wrong. “It’s gonna be your downfall”

“... Or not” You shrugged, not stopping your assessment of him. “Still waiting on the monologue detailing your plan to stop me, by the way”

“There isn’t one”

He lunged. He did it so quickly and smoothly you almost didn’t see him move. Your reflexes allowed you to roll out of the way just in time, and the way the staff collided with the cement told you it wouldn’t have been a long fight if that had hit its intended target: you. You looked at him and you regained your footing, reevaluating the situation. You were skilled, but you doubted it would be enough to go toes to toes with Red Robin, now that you had had a glimpse of what he could actually do.

You raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Catch me if you can”

Before he could process your world, you turned around and jumped off the building, landing on the roof a dozens of feet lower. You didn’t waste time taking off, knowing he would be right behind you. You ran across the rooftop and leaped off the ledge and above the alley to grab onto the fire exit on the next building over. You hurried to climb it, ending up on yet another rooftop. You ran alongside the pool and jumped over the tables, kicking them back to try and slow down Red Robin, who was little by little gaining on you. Fuck, he’s fast, you thought. You weren’t even tempting to look back, but you knew with the sound of his footsteps alone. 

You hadn’t planned on him being able to follow you that easily, not even cursing behind you as you took another jump over a considerable gap between buildings. You were fast, faster than most. Making exits had always been your strong suit, whether it was on foot, by car or otherwise. However, the only times you had faced him were when you had a rocket launcher as a deterrent or when you were driving an actual race car. Now that the field was levelled, you didn’t have the advantage anymore. You knew you wouldn’t be able to outrun him if you kept going on that way, so you had to change your strategy.

You took a sharp turn to the left and grabbed a clothesline, pulling out a knife from your belt and severing in behind your grip. You took a good running start and let yourself fall on the building on the other side of the street, pausing to glance at Red Robin standing where you had just been seconds ago. He was trying to find another way to cross, but there was none and even he couldn’t make that jump. You gave him a wave and a wink before taking off again. However, on the corner of your eyes, you still could see him tracking you relentlessly, not letting you get away so easily. 

You jumped over an alley, and instead of landing on the next roof, you aimed for the first balcony from the top. With your shoulder first and your head tucked in, you went straight through the sliding door window and rolled on the landing to smooth your fall. You glanced beside you at the terrified man in his underwear who was cowering on the couch and looked behind you, shrugging.

“Sorry for the mess” You didn’t wait until he replied to walk out the apartment. You jogged down the stairs, knowing Red Robin would have lost your trace now. Or so you thought.

You halted your steps when you noticed him waiting at the bottom of the staircase and leaning on the rail with a nonchalant expression, like it had been easy to predict you would come out that way. He returned the little sarcastic wave you had given him minutes earlier, making your face fall. You turned around and climbed back the steps back to the first floor, barging in and running across the hallway until you reached the window at the end. You took the time to open this one, seeing as he had not yet reached the floor. You slipped through it and climbed down the wall to land into the back alley. You were about to head for the streets when an already too familiar red and black figure blocked your way.

You took off in the opposite direction, well, until you came face to face with a brick wall. There was nothing to climb onto, no fire exit to use, no way to get away. You closed your eyes and cursed under your breath as footsteps reached you. He wasn’t in a hurry, his pace was tauntingly slow and confident he had you trapped. You recomposed yourself before turning around to face him.

“You forced me to make a mistake” You stated with a sigh. “Impressive”

“Told you” He said, taking a step toward you. “Arrogance did end up being your downfall”

“I don’t suppose we could have a rematch, uh?” You tried, smiling coyly. “That staff didn’t seem such a bad idea in hindsight”

“If you thought you could win then, you wouldn’t have dragged me into this pointless chase” He scoffed, and your eyebrows raised. He was right, but damn. “Unless you want a beating at that too”

“Ouch” You chuckled. “That really hurts my pride”

“Good” He smirked. “Now that you know you won’t get away from this one, just do the logical thing and surrender. There’s nowhere to go”

You held eye contact for a moment before slowly raising your hands. “Alright” You complied with a nod. “You earned that one”

He took careful steps toward you, alert to whatever quick move you would do. But you could recognize when you were beaten, so you didn’t plan any surprise move. Getting caught by a vigilante was an eventuality, even you knew you wouldn’t escape them forever. You just didn’t think it would have been this soon. He grabbed your wrists, and once he was sure he had you solidly enough, he twisted your arm behind you and pushed you rather roughly into the brick wall.

“Woah there champion” You coughed out in surprise. “I feel that spark between us, I really do, and I admit I am partially to blame for it, but I’m kinda seeing someone? And I’m really into him so if you could just. Stop manhandling me that way, that’d be great”

You felt him take a considerable step backward, and his grip on your arm dropped. You frowned, carefully turning around to face him. You didn’t understand why he had let you go, and his blush combined with his bewildered expression only made you more confused.

“Okay, what is going on, now?” You asked, not taking your eyes off him. It was like he was a completely different person now, and you couldn’t point out exactly why it was suddenly so familiar. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, jeez”

“I’m not” He defended too quickly, his voice wavering. Your eyes squinted even more as you took one step forward. He didn’t move, it was like he was frozen in place. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over for you”

“Uh” You took another step, and he squared up, trying to cover the fact he had totally lost his edge over you. You could have made a run for it, you knew it would have been ridiculously easy at that moment to evade him, but something held you back. You scrutinized him, your head tilting to the side. He gulped, and suddenly it all pieced together. That reaction to your flirting, you knew it all too well. Your eyes widened, before you gave him a sympathetic smile. “You know, while this mask does suit you, I prefer to see your eyes, handsome”

His muscles tensed for a second or two, but his shoulder sagged soon after. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “How long have you known?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean, how long?” You asked. “Thirty five seconds ago”

“You didn’t know before?”

“Uh, no” You replied. “What does it matter?”

“You… You didn’t go on a date with me to distract me from your trail?”

“No, I went on a date with you because I like you?” You raised an eyebrow. “I would have been way more careful with my lies if I had known, fuck I was so obvious, no wonder you figured it out. Besides, I just told you I’m really into you--”

You were surprised by the sudden movement of his arm that sneaked behind your neck and brought you flush against his lips. Okay then. You returned the kiss without hesitation holding on to his shoulders under the sheer force he was applying against you. It was a lot different from the shy boy you had met at the racetrack, but then again, he was Red Robin right now, more so than Tim Drake. You could have never connected the two if it hadn’t been from your flirting from up close. Before you knew, he tore himself from you and jumped back like you were actual fire, cursing under his breath. You blinked slowly at his sudden absence from your immediate vicinity, then rolled your eyes. Dramatic much?

“What is it now?”

“You’re still a criminal” Now he refused to meet your eyes. 

“Are you-- Is this because of what happened in the alley the other day?” You sighed, throwing your hands up before letting them fall back and slap on the side of your thighs. “I’m sorry, okay? I wouldn’t have ran you into the garbage pile if I had known it was you. And I wouldn’t have threatened you with a rocket launcher either-- Shit okay I see your point, I’m really sorry about that too”

“No!” He yelled. “I mean, yeah, kind of. But you kill people for a living, I can’t--”

“What does it change?” You asked. “You liked me before you found out. You were about to hand me to the police, I still like you! In fact, if you could ram me into the wall once again like you just did, I wouldn’t--”

“Please stop talking”

You grinned. “Does it turn you on?”

“Y-No” He replied, correcting himself last second. You raised a subjective eyebrow. “Stop that”

“Stop what?” You asked innocently. “I’m just saying it’s on the table. If I had known it was you when you did it, I would have enjoyed it so you’re welcome to do it again”

“Do you ever stop flirting?” He deadpanned. He crossed his arms against his chest, but it definitely didn’t have the intended effect. Instead, you just checked him out even more, since his muscles were very well defined in that suit. You liked it.

“With you? Not a chance, handsome”

And here came the blush again. He looked away and gulped, ignoring your self satisfied smile. You could do that all day and never get bored of it. Still, you regained a somewhat serious expression for the conversation that was inevitably coming.

“So now what?” You spoke up. “You give me to the cops? We pretend nothing happened between us? Because I’ll be honest with you, I don’t want that. I meant it when I said I liked you”

“My job is to stop crime, and the people who commit it” He began with a sigh. “I just can’t ignore the fact that you are one of the bad guy”

“That’s valid” You nodded slowly. “But this is just a job. I don’t do it for the power trip of taking people out, I do it because I’m good at it, and because I like the money that comes with it. Although, I’ll admit I do enjoy making dramatic exits from time to time--all the time”

Tim snorted. Of course you liked your exit, that had been obvious from the start. But even if he did not agree with your job, or with the lack of morals that came with it, he had to recognize the difference between you and the typical Gotham criminal. From what he had found out so far about you, you never caused casualties in any of your contracts. You always kept the mess to a minimum. You were a far cry from the Joker or Poison Ivy, for that matter.

Even if you couldn’t see his eyes clearly, you could just see the gears turning in his head. Would it be so bad if he let you go? What if he kept seeing you? He could agree with you on one thing: behind his reluctance because of your job, he really didn’t want to pretend nothing happened. He liked you a lot, and it absolutely frustrated him that the one god sent person he instantly clicked with was on the other side of his moral spectrum. 

“Tell me” You said softly, bringing back his attention to you. “If you had never found out about my job, would you have asked me on a second date?”

“Yes” He didn’t hesitate in his answer. It was like you could read his mind, reminding him of how well you fit together. He wanted both to scream and to kiss you again. 

You took a deep breath, letting him think some more. You could very much suspect the news of your activities was harder on him than his were on you, so you understood the need to let him a little space while he figured it all out. You had half expected him to go ahead with his initial plan though, so you prepared yourself mentally for him eventually binding your wrists and dragging you to the nearest precinct. 

That’s probably why you were surprised when he took a step aside, no longer blocking you from leaving. You didn’t move, only stared at him.

“I won’t give you a free pass if I catch you doing shady stuff” He sighed, gesturing to the exit of the alley. “ But for this time, I guess I’ll see you next time you do something stupid”

“Not before?” You raised an eyebrow. The corner of his lips slightly lifted.

“Maybe before”

“Is that a yes on the second date?” You asked, hopeful. “7:30 next Friday at that lobster place you mentioned?”

“Will you be working that night?”

“I won’t!” You hurried to confirm. “I swear I won’t”

He let out a long sigh like he was reconsidering his entire life. “What the hell, sure”

“Great!” You grinned wide, stealing a quick kiss on his lips. 

“Go, now” He ordered, gaining back his more authoritative vigilante voice. Oof, that was hot, you thought, but you kept it to yourself for once. “Before I change my mind”

“See you on Friday, handsome!”

He watched you run out of the alley, finding himself suddenly excited at the prospect of seeing you again, whether it would be as Red Robin or as himself on a date with you.

#tim drake x reader #tim drake x you #tim drake imagine #tim drake fic #red robin x reader

[rainandhotchocolate]

Black Dog

A/N So this is literally just pure fluff - I was sick af this week and wanted some sirius black comforting me as a dog so I wrote it I HOPE OTHER PEOPLE ALSO LIKE THIS cause this is totally self indulgent lelel 

Enjoy! 

(8k, Sirius Fluffffff, descriptions of an injury & depression)

A large black dog sat on Y/N’s leg, leaning against her knee. A lot of students had seen it around lately, someone’s rogue and prohibited pet roaming Gryffindor tower at night. For many it was a comfort, wandering around to cheer people up as it seemed to sense when someone was sad or extremely stressed, but Y/N had also heard that it would lead you down to kitchens in the dead of the night and help bring back extra treacle tarts.

A tear had found its way down and into Y/N’s mouth, salty and hot against her skin, her breathing hitching slightly as she tried to calm herself down. She hated crying. Well, crying in front of others anyway. She knew there was a different kind of bravery in being able to show your emotions to others but there was always something pulling her back, telling her to hide at all costs.

The dog nuzzled itself against her leg, and she moved on the couch to make room for it to sit up next to her and lay its head in her lap.

“I don’t know why I’m crying,” She laughed at the dog, tears still making tracks down her face, “I hate crying for no reason, it’s like I’m constantly searching for a reason, I should have some terrible illness or problem that means I’m allowed to be upset. But no, my brain has decided I’m just sad.”

Y/N dug her hands into the fur along the dog’s neck and head, scratching lightly. She’d found herself getting more tired lately, wanting to do nothing but sleep and sleep. But now, in the middle of the night, of course, she couldn’t.

The big black dog had been joining her most nights this week, curling up against her leg or in front of the fire, listening to her talk or watching her move around her watercolours across a page, swirls of colour and water dripping onto the carpet. Sometimes they just lay across the carpet in front of the fire, the dog sleeping on her stomach or legs as she drifted in and out of sleep.

This night seemed different, however, the dog had refused to stay still, moving around every few minutes as if to make sure she stayed awake.

“Ok, what’s up, puppy?” The dog growled at that and Y/N laughed, “Ok, large giant manly dog, what are you doing?”

The dog finally jumped up and off the couch, nudging its head into the back of her knee so that she had to stand up as well. She groaned, joining him and watching a little exasperatedly as it ran towards the portrait hole and then looked back at her expectantly.

“Ok, ok,” Y/N shook her head but followed anyway, grabbing her jumper and pushing open the door, hiding quickly in the dark so that the Fat Lady didn’t spot her. Y/N could hear her yelling whose there! in her scariest voice as she slipped out of sight.

They moved carefully through the darkness, the dog led her down hallways Y/N wasn’t sure she’d ever been down before, behind small paintings and passageways that seemed to come into focus when the dog moved across the floor in a certain way. After what felt like an hour, Y/N started to feel a cool breeze trickle down her neck and she realised that they were just beside the small courtyard. The dog slipped through a small dog and Y/N followed him out into the stone covered the courtyard that was beginning to sprout small flowers in between the cracks and along the walls.

Y/N silently thanked herself for bringing a jumper, pulling it over herself as the dog seemed to prance across the stone floor and towards the grounds.

“Slow down, not all of us are completely awake right now.”

The dog huffed but slowed to an almost comical pace… no, just slowed. Y/N shook her head, she was reading human emotions into a fucking dog. She followed the dog out into a clearing, a little way down from the Whomping Willow, that overlooked the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The black dog pawed at the bottom of a tree to Y/N’s right before curling up underneath it. Y/N joined him, letting him rest his head on her lap once more.

The night breeze had faded, leaving just the warm air that smelt like flowers and Hagrid’s cabbage patch wafting over towards them.

“Well this is very pretty,” Y/N murmured, scratching the dog behind his ears and grinning as it pushed its head back involuntarily into her hand, “I was brought here before you know? In first year, I completely forgot.”

A memory had pushed itself forward, of a boy with dark hair gripping her hand tightly and dragging her along the river and towards the large oak tree they were now sitting under.

“Sirius Black brought me here, he was sure that there was going to be a comet shower and we had to go see it.”

The dog seemed to jump at the name, looking up at her before shaking its head and lowering back down and onto her lap.

“You know that name huh? I hope he’s not your owner, that would be supremely awkward. Though to be fair it would be like him to bring in a prohibited animal into school,” Y/N snorted, rolling her eyes.

Sirius and herself had been friends back in first and second year before he’d grown into himself, his hair curling down the nape of his neck as he rebelled against haircuts from his parents, wearing tight flare jeans and leather jackets to Hogsmeade weekends in third year. They’d drifted apart, Sirius spending more time with his guy friends, wanting to talk about girls and dung bombs, and Y/N’s little crush had faded into the background as she became friendly with the other girls in her dorm room.

She couldn’t help hating how her heart jumped a little bit every time he caught her eye, smiling and always being the first to look away.

“Well if he is your owner tell him he’s a dolt for dousing the common room in snow, I know it was him.”

The dog seemed to look amused. No, not amused, it was just looking at her. Y/N desperately needed some sleep.

“Ok, come on doggo, I need to actually go to sleep for once,” She felt herself yawning, and grinned down at the dog, “Thanks for the adventure, it seems to have made me tired.”

They wandered back up and into the castle, the dog again leading her down small passageways and hidden corridors to avoid any teachers or Filch prowling the hallways. The dog ran ahead when they were at the corridor leading onto the Gryffindor Tower, and somehow made the Fat Lady open the Portrait Hole before Y/N had edged towards her point of sight, grumbling loudly about insubordination.

She crept into the common room, praying that it had remained empty, and letting out a deep sigh when she saw that it was.

“Well, goodnight lil fluff,” Y/N grinned as it growled lightly at her again but nuzzled his head along her leg all the same. She gave him a final scratch on the head and neck before walking towards the girl’s dorm room, falling asleep almost instantly.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N woke up to a startled shriek, jumping up quickly and pulling open the curtains surrounding her bed. She was surprised to find that the sun was streaming through the windows and the rest of the girls in her room already dressed and pulling on sandals.

“Ok who on earth screamed,” Y/N groaned, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and slipping on her the soft slippers sitting under her bed.

“Yeah sorry I just spilt coffee on my date outfit and I have nothing else planned out and I’m currently panicking,” Dorcas sighed, still staring at the large brown stain dripping down her white blouse.

“You have a million clothes,” Marlene rolled her eyes, already picking through her clothes, “And a million white tops, I honestly think you have an inability to buy colour.”

“I look good in shades, leave me be.”

“Wear the white dress!” Marlene pulled out a mini dress that had been stuck underneath the piles of winter clothes Dorcas had packed away months ago.

“Ughhhh, no.”

“Yes!” Lily came over to Marlene, grinning widely, and picking the dress out of Marlene’s hands to hold it up to the rest of the dorm.

“Strong yes, also who are you going out with?” Y/N rummaged through her drawers to pull out a pair of linen shorts and t-shirt.

“Eloise, that Ravenclaw girl who Dorcas stares at every morning,” Marlene threw the dress at Dorcas who scowled and held it up to herself in the mirror.

“On the Quidditch team, yeah?”

“Yep, smart and fit, the dream combo,” Dorcas waggled her eyebrows at Y/N through the mirror before turning around and sighing loudly, “Ok, but no one is allowed to comment on the dress all day.”

“Cross my heart,” Lily acted out her words in mid-air, turning back to lacing up her docs. Eventually, the girls filed out of their dorm room and made their way to the Hogwarts exit point. Filch was standing and growling at everyone who past, aggressively poking a dark magic detector towards each person before they were allowed to get through.

“I don’t know who would be dumb enough to carry dark objects into Hogsmeade,” Marlene rolled her eyes, lining up for Filch to glare her down.

“I’d say it would be more of a worry what they are getting in town,” Lily muttered under her breath, eyeing a dark-haired Slytherin who had hissed back at Filch as he tried to pat him down.

“Filch is checking us going back in too,” Y/N watched as Filch finally let Snape through, begrudgingly, and he joined the group of Slytherins waiting for him. Lily’s attitude didn’t seem to lift, so Y/N took another angle, “So are we meeting James?”

“In the Three Broomsticks,” Lily said, as casually as possible, but a slight tinge of red had crept up onto her cheeks and ears.

“What is this, date number 10?” Dorcas grinned at her, “And all you’ve done is kiss, huh?”

“We’re taking it slow.”

“Or you’re just not telling us all the juicy details.”

“You know that you would be the first to know if I had any juicy details to tell,” Lily knocked Dorcas’ elbow, smiling at her, “Anyway, I don’t want to be making a big deal out of it.”

“But it’s a bloody huge deal!”

“Exactly my point.”

“You’re no fun,” Marlene poked her tongue out at her, and looped her arm around Y/N, “I guess us lone wolves will have to make our own fun.”

“Yes, please find me something fun to do,” Y/N leaned into Marlene’s shoulder, watching the line slowly trickly forwards.

“Well there are plenty of pretty boys around for that,” Marlene winked at her, scanning the crowd forming with Filch’s very slow process, “Even some that seem to be staring at you.”

“What?” Y/N followed her gaze to see none other than Sirius Black turning quickly away to face Remus and Peter. Y/N frowned, perhaps that dog was his. Did he see them last night?

“I highly doubt staring is the word to be used there,” Y/N rolled her eyes, “We haven’t exactly spoken recently.”

“Ahh, the heart is a fickle thing,” Marlene said sagely, stepping up to Filch who poked her aggressively and then waved her through. Once Filch had seen that they weren’t carrying anything that would potentially curse or kill anyone in Hogsmeade, they made their way down the hill towards the small village.

Y/N had always loved Hogsmeade, in all weather, but there was something about it in Summer when everyone was wandering the streets and a light summer breeze would rustle its way through the main road in a way that felt like she was being wrapped in a blanket. It somehow felt more magical to her.

The girls made their way towards The Three Broomsticks, Marlene whispering the names of all the cute boys they passed who might be very available for Y/N. Y/N couldn’t help but snigger along with her, even though her mind had drifted back to Sirius’ grey-blue eyes watching her in the courtyard moments before.

The Three Broomsticks was crowded, as expected, with the end of exams and most teachers finishing up their work. Rosmerta was almost slinging butterbeer at anyone who managed to reach the bar, and had three extra waitstaff sliding through the tables across the pub.

“Can anyone see a table?” Marlene scowled at a boy who had shoved passed her to find a table himself and he backed off.

“I’m going to melt into the floor if there isn’t, I am not going to Madame Puddifoots, that place is a hellhole,” Dorcas groaned, searching the floor for empty chairs lying about.

“James has one!” Lily was already walking towards them, waving at James with a giddy kind of smile on her face. The rest of them trudged after her, avoiding the patrons holding steaming mugs of butterbeer and other assorted drinks, towards the large back table where James and his friends were sitting.

“How on earth did you get this table?” Dorcas looked both amazed and relieved, sitting down on the edge of the table so that she could continue to look out for Eloise.

“Got here hours ago, it’s the last trip into Hogsmeade it’s always hectic,” James was grinning, clearly very proud of himself, and slung an arm around Lily, giving her shoulder a little squeeze, “I grabbed you a pint already but I wasn’t aware we’d be graced by your friends as well, sorry!”

“Well I guess you had to officially meet them at some point,” Lily smiled up at him, and Y/N felt a pang in her stomach. It would be nice to look at someone with that much happiness.

“We’ve known them for seven years,” Marlene laughed, still standing and holding onto Y/N’s arm, “We’ll get the rest of the pints, come on.”

She dragged Y/N away quickly, expertly pulling her through the crowd and up to the bar.

“Why did you and Sirius drift apart anyway?” She turned to Y/N, head crooked to one side.

“I told you, we just got older and stopped having the same interests,” Y/N shrugged, “Why?”

“I don’t know, I just always think there was more too it,” She held her hands out and pulled three mugs of butterbeer towards her as Rosemerta began sliding them across the bar, “you know he’s like always staring at you.”

“Well now I know you’re lying,” Y/N rolled her eyes, grabbing her own pint of butterbeer as they began to walk back, trying not to spill anything.

“You can’t not have noticed! If anything I can’t see why you drifted apart if you both clearly care for each other, even just a little bit,” Marlene gave her a look, the one the gave when she was making sure that you actually listened to her and stopped being a prat.

“I honestly don’t know what to tell you, Marls,” Y/N lowered her voice as they got to the table, “We just stopped hanging out.”

“Mmmmm,” Marlene hummed but said nothing further. She passed a mug to Dorcas and sat down next to Peter and Remus.

“Has Eloise arrived yet?” Y/N ignored Marlene’s continued watchful eyes, sitting down in the only place left, between Remus and Sirius. She took a big sip of her drink.

“Her friend just came over, she’s running a bit late but will be here soon,” Dorcas beamed, her nerves getting the better of her as she began tapping the edge of her butterbeer mug. Sirius had leaned back into his chair, and Y/N could feel his eyes on her shoulder but she continued to ignore him. She wasn’t really sure why she was ignoring him, it’s not like he’d done anything to hurt her, but it felt like if she turned to face him her face might become a ripe tomato.

“Have you planned out your afternoon then?”

“Of course, drink here, then walk over to the shrieking shack, see if I can’t get her a little scared and a little in need of a hug,” Dorcas winked, earning a laugh from James and Sirius.

“That’s very sly, I like it,” James nodded in approval, “Might try that on you sometimes.”

He turned to Lily, grinning wickedly.

“I’m very sure it would be you who’d need a hug.”

“That works fine for me too, Lils,” His grin widened and Lily seemed to be unable to do anything but smile back at him.

“What about you, Y/N, any big plans for the afternoon?” Y/N felt like she could hear his voice separately from the others, as if they were somewhere else, alone. She cleared her throat, steeling herself before looking at him with a cool expression plastered across her face.

“No plans, though Marlene wants to find something fun to do that doesn’t require us watching James and Lily snog all afternoon,” Y/N gave an innocent smile to Lily who growled at her.

“Perhaps you’d want to join us?” Marlene chimed in, a similar smile on her face, eyebrows raised at Sirius, “You two as well of course.”

She nodded to Remus and Peter.

“I never really enjoy seeing James’ tongue,” Remus’ face remained blank but his eyes were twinkling as he looked over at Lily who was blushing furiously.

“I actually hate all of you,” Lily buried her head behind James who looked thoroughly pleased with her reaction.

“Well I’m definitely in, I need to stop by Zonko’s though,” Sirius responded, eyes darting over to Remus’ who returned a knowing smile.

They finished their drinks and bid goodbye to Lily, James, and Dorcas who barely looked up from watching the door intently. Y/N took in a deep breath as the summer breeze wafted across her face, feeling it warm up her skin.

“Nothing like the Scottish sun,” Sirius grinned at Y/N, “I honestly think the sun feels the best here, because we get so little of it across the year.”

“Definitely,” Y/N smiled a little giddily back, feeling the sun warm the back of her head as they made their way towards Zonkos.

“So what do you need in Zonkos huh?” Marlene gave Remus and Sirius a sidelong glance, “I would have thought you’d be banned from bringing things back by now.”

“We have our ways,” chirped Peter from behind them, sticking his head through from behind Remus with what he must think was a mischievous smirk.

“Why does that sound worse than the idea of being pranked on our last few days of school?”

“Because it is,” Remus shook his head at the two boys who were now whispering, heads bent together.

“I thought you would have taught them better Mr prefect,” Y/N teased him, holding open the door for the group to pile into the already very crowded Zonko’s.

“There’s a reason I had the head boy badge taken from me,” He winked, nodding in thanks as he passed her and wandered towards what Y/N was sure was fireworks. The boys hid their purchases from Marlene and Y/N who decidedly ignored them, wandering the aisles in search of anything that could be fun for the summer holidays.

“Never know when you might need one of these,” Marlene elbowed Y/N repeatedly as she held up a love potion, making Y/N giggle.

“I definitely, don’t need one of those.”

“Oooh, a confident Y/N, I like her,” Marlene put it down, trailing her fingers across the shelves. Y/N felt someone’s eyes on her back but refused to turn around until the boys called their names to get them to leave.

“Anyone keen to sneak up on Dorcas?” Marlene linked arms with Y/N again.

“You just want to see the haunted shrieking shack,” Sirius cooed, moving his hands in front of her as if he was a ghost, “It is really haunted you know, I’ve heard the screams.”

“So, have I,” Peter grinned, following Sirius’ actions as Marlene began to lead the way. They trudged up the hill and towards the clearing where there was the best view of the derelict house. It always seemed to look worse and worse every time Y/N came to see it like it would fall over at any moment.

“Want a closer look?” Sirius winked at Y/N, “Or are you a bit too scared something might come out of the dark.”

“Don’t need you goading me Mr Black,” Y/N smiled at him, “You know I can’t handle scary stories, let alone a giant haunted house.”

“Ahhh come on, I’ll protect you,” He grabbed her shoulders quickly, “If I can.”

“Stop it, you dork!”

“You two are killing me,” Marlene rolled her eyes, snorting at them, “And anyway, Dumbledore said specifically that someone nearly died down there. I’m all for an adventure, but I’d like to graduate and you know, maybe fight in a war rather than die from a loose floorboard.”

“Smart girl you are,” Remus nodded at her, but Y/N swore she saw a flash of anger cross his eyes, “I for one am perfectly happy staying up here, not dead.”

“Hear hear!” Y/N grinned up at Remus, “the prefect is back.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon mucking around the area around the Shrieking Shack, Sirius taking them up to this giant hill that overlooked almost all of Hogsmeade and the castle. On the way down, Y/N felt herself slip, catching herself on a rock that jutted out beside her.

“Fuuuuuuuuuucckk,” Y/N moaned, feeling her hand cut open with the force of her landing, her but likely covered in dirt and also aching.

“Shit, are you ok?” Sirius had come up behind her, grabbing her by the waist and swiftly picking her up and off the ground. The rest of them had already trekked farther down the hill and hadn’t heard her swear.

“Yeah, I am, it's bloody typical of me. The one day I bring out the sandals we go on a small hike,” Y/N snorted, shaking her head and trying to stand on her feet. Her knee buckled and she fell back into Sirius who gripped her tightly, his arms wrapped around her torso.

“Thanks, sorry,” Y/N winced, both from the pain and a little out of embarrassment.

“Don’t stress at all,” He smiled at her, “Lean on me, for the rest of the way down ok? I don’t want you toppling over and breaking your leg again.”

“Oh my god I can’t believe you would bring that up,” Y/N shook her head in amazement, “that was completely your fault!”

“Hardly!” Sirius hooked his arm around her back and hoisted her upright so that Y/N could test her leg whilst they continued the walk down. Y/N couldn’t help but lean into him, feeling his chest pressed up against her shoulder blades and… shut up, you idiot.

“You decided it would be a great idea to make the final staircase to the Great Hall a waterslide.”

“Oh yeah… that was kind of my fault wasn’t it,” He grimaced, chuckling, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s ok, you carried me around for a week. And I think you got me a bouquet of chocolate frogs! Fuck, I forgot about that.”

“Has been a while hasn’t it,” Sirius became slightly quieter, Y/N itching to turn and see his expression but she was too worried about making sure she didn’t bleed across her white shorts. They continued the rest of the journey in silence, Y/N slowly taking her weight off Sirius as she stretched out her leg and the muscle began to take on more pressure.,

“You lot took ages, doing anything fun?” Marlene was picking at her nails, sitting on a large rock and leaning against Remus who had pulled out a book.

“If you call gashing open your hand and bruising your sit bones fun, then yes, I had a wild time.”

“You cut your hand?” Sirius glared at Y/N, “Show me.”

“Alright, calm down,” Y/N barked a laugh at his concerned expression, “I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Yeah that’s not fine,” Peter had come up to them, watching as Sirius opened her fist revealing a large gaping hole in her hand.

“Ok I think I might faint,” Y/N felt a rush of blood coming up to her head as she took in the pain and visual all at once, “I’d been clenching it the whole way down the hill so I didn’t bleed on myself, I didn’t think to look at it.”

“I’ve got something to calm you down,” Peter smiled at her, grabbing his large rucksack and pulling out a small dropper, “open your mouth, two drops of this and you’ll be fine till we get you to Madame Pomfrey.”

“Do you just carry this stuff around with you?” Marlene peeked her head into his bag, frowning.

“He’s obsessed with potions,” Remus smiled at Peter warmly, “I wouldn’t be surprised if he was best in the year,”

“I’m not that good, I just find them interesting,” Peter blushed a bright red colour as he put the stopper back into the bottle and pocketed it, “Let me know if you feel like fainting again.”

“Will do,” Y/N felt a wave of calm come over her, her knees buckling again as every muscle in her body seemed to relax.

“Yeah it might do that if she’s never had it before,” Peter winced, “Sorry I forgot to mention.”

“No worries,” Sirius leaned down and picked Y/N up, bridal style, “This is much more fun anyways.”

“Sorry, Y/N!” Peter squeaked again, looking like he accidentally poisoned her.

“It’s fine,” Y/N smiled giddily, “I wish I could have you around more often with your little potions bag.”

Y/N curled herself into Sirius’ body, slightly aware that her inhibitions had likely been lowered given her lack of care for revelling in the closeness of their bodies but she didn’t care, or more likely she probably couldn’t care. He brought her back up to the castle and straight to the hospital wing, calling loudly to Madame Pomfrey as he laid her on the closest bed to the exit.

“Yes, what is it, Black,” Pomfrey snapped, and Y/N got the impression that she didn’t enjoy seeing Sirius in the Hospital Wing, “oh!”

“Yes not me this time I promise, Y/N fell in Hogsmeade, she’s opened up her hand,”

Sirius curled open Y/N’s hand slowly, and Y/N winced as the nerves around the gash seemed to fizzle.

“Mmmmm, that’s a nasty cut, I’m glad you brought her to me instead of trying to heal it yourself, she’d have a hell of a lot more nerve damage,” Madame Pomfrey pulled out her wand and sat beside Y/N who looked at her nervously.

“I’ve learnt from my mistakes,” Sirius winked at her, sitting on the other side, his hand still on her shoulder. Y/N concentrated on that as Pomfrey began hovering her wand around the wound, muttering softly, and suddenly could feel the entirety of her hand moving, the nerves reattaching around the tendons. Y/N wanted to puke.

“Not very comfortable, but you should be fine in a few hours, you’ll just need to wear a small brace for a day to make sure nothing else happens to it.”

“Ok,” Y/N gritted her teeth, wishing she’d asked for something for the pain from Peter as well as her wound began to close slowly.

“There! All done, just wait here whilst I grab you a brace, and no leaning on it today or tomorrow, ok?” She gave Y/N and Sirius a stern look before standing up and heading to a large cupboard next to her office.

“Feeling ok?” Sirius asked, his thumb rubbing circles against her shoulder blade.

“Now that she’s stopped pulling my skin together, yes,” laughed Y/N, smiling at him, “Thanks for bringing me by the way, I hope I didn’t stop you getting your Zonko’s stuff back into the castle.”

“Oh don’t worry, Peter was in charge of all that,” He gave her a smirk but said nothing more as Madame Pomfrey returned with a rigid looking brace. She put it place for Y/N, showing her how to re-do it in the morning and bid them goodbye.

Sirius and Y/N walked back up to the Gryffindor Common Room in relative silence, Y/N feeling the calm slowly wear off her and the embarrassment of being carried into the castle by Sirius Black settle back in.

“Well, I’m going to read and avoid using my hand for the next 24 hours,” Y/N smiled a little awkwardly at him as they stepped through the Portrait hole and into the common room. He smiled at her, standing still momentarily as they both seemed to panic over how to say goodbye. Eventually, Y/N held out her hand as Sirius went to hug her.

“Wow, we really are out of sync,” Sirius laughed loudly, shaking his head.

“Why don’t we just nod curtly and leave,” Y/N grinned but felt like she was actually just baring her teeth at him.

“Deal.”

They nodded at each other and walked in the opposite direction, Y/N to her dorm and Sirius to the large window that overlooked the grounds.

That evening, once the sun had finally gone down around 10pm, Y/N made her way out into the common room, wanting to be by the fire as she read. She wasn’t surprised to see the large black dog had taken up residence by the fire already, curled up in a ball. He looked up when he heard her, wagging his tail.

“How are you doing, pup?” Y/N smiled at the large dog that had come across the common room and lay down on the carpet in front of the fire.

“I had a good day today,” She hummed lying down on the couch, leaning her head against the edge, curling herself up into the cushions so that she could keep her feet warm.

“I saw your owner today, Sirius,” She watched the fire flicker, placing her book underneath the couch as she began to feel tired, “Haven’t actually spoken to him in a long while. It was nice, felt like old times.”

The dog jumped up and curled himself against her stomach. Y/N felt herself begin to drift off, one arm curled to her side and the other draped lazily across the black dogs’ torso.

“In fact, I even got him to carry me the whole way home,” Y/N snorted, “You should have seen me, I think I was as red as a tomato. I’m very glad he didn’t say anything. Or perhaps if I’m lucky he didn’t notice me mortifying myself as I drooled over him.”

She felt herself wake, without opening her eyes, wanting to curl into the warmth of the couch and the sun shining on her skin. Y/N moved slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position for her arm that had seemed to have remained unmoving whilst curled into her side, and had begun to ache. She went to pull it out from under her and stretch it out towards the fire but instead, she hit something solid and warm in front of her.

Y/N flung her eyes open and saw a large figure covering her view and shrieked, jumping upwards, pushing the figure off the couch along with the couch cushions. She landed a little painfully on planks of wood and springs that made up the inside of the couch.

The figure yelped as they landed on the floor in a heap, rolling over and groaning in pain. Y/N struggled to pull herself out of the couch’s grips, hopping up to face whoever was lying on the floor in front of her.

“What on earth,” The heap groaned again, wincing lightly as they sat upright, rubbing the places where Y/N presumed they had landed moments ago. Y/N caught herself before she let out a gasp.

“Sirius?” Her eyes were wide, staring down at him. He winced again, sitting on his hip and heaving himself upright.

“Yes, what’s – oh, shit,” Realisation dawned on his face as he looked down at himself and Y/N looked immediately up towards the ceiling.

“So why on earth were you naked and lying with me on the couch?” Y/N continued to stare at the ceiling as Sirius searched for something to cover himself with, settling on a small cushion that had also gone flying in Y/N’s panic.

“I uh, fell asleep with you…” His eyes tried to meet hers but moved to the window behind her when she stared back in confusion.

“You, but,” No fucking way, “YOU are the dog?”

“Well, yes,” He smiled very sheepishly at her, eyes apologetic.

“You’re an animagus?” Y/N hissed at him, both shocked and a little frustrated. How long had she been hanging out with this dog, with Sirius? What had she said to him?

“Not so loud, I don’t know if you noticed that no one else knows this,” He looked around carefully, taking a step forward as if to put a finger across her mouth but thought better of it.

“For how long?”

“About three years.”

“You’ve been an illegal animagus for THREE YEARS?” Y/N couldn’t stop her voice from increasing in volume and Sirius gave her another pleading look.

“Why, why didn’t you tell me? Why… why?” Y/N stuttered, feeling her cheeks flush as she remembered talking to him about… himself.

“Well it’s a little lame,” Sirius rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “I saw you here like two months ago, reading a letter from your parents. I remember you used to talk about them being a little uptight about being a witch and well anyway I wanted to say something or do something to make you feel better but… I don’t know we hadn’t spoken for so long and I just…”

“I just didn’t know how you would react if I just came up and asked you what was wrong, I mean if it was me I probably would have told you I was fine and ran away as fast as I could,” He laughed, a little nervously, still avoiding her gaze, “I didn’t even really think about it, I just turned, and then you looked so happy to see me and I don’t know, it felt like I cheered you up…”

He faded off, giving her a sheepish smile.

“And then you just decided to hang out like that every evening?” Y/N felt like she was processing a thousand bits of information at once.

“Oh uh, well, I didn’t always know your schedule. So I sort of just hung around like that. It turned out kinda nice though, getting to cheer people up during their exams. One girl tried to feed me birdseed though, that was disgusting,” His face grimaced from the memory, but Y/N was still stuck on what he had first said.

“You were waiting for me?” Y/N replied slowly, feeling her stomach begin to churn.

“Right, uh, I mean I wasn’t trying to stalk you or anything! You just haven’t seemed yourself lately, I wanted to help in some way.”

“You know you could have just come up and asked me what was wrong,” Y/N laughed at him, but it came out significantly more high-pitched than she’d anticipated.

“Honestly I thought you might still hate me a little.”

“What?” Y/N tried to rack her brain back to anything that he could have done that would have meant she’d hate him, “Why would I hate you?”

Sirius narrowed his eyes, looking genuinely confused, staring at her silently for a minute.

“Because of third year? Your date with Richard Ankleman?”

“Richard? What?” Y/N hadn’t thought about him for years, “the guy who stood me up?”

“He never told you, did he,” Sirius’ face contorted to one of complete embarrassment. For a moment, Y/N thought that he might hit himself with the pillow, but was grateful that he kept it where it was.

“Told me what, Sirius.”

“Ok, uh, well I wasn’t totally thrilled about him asking you out so I, you know in classic idiot Sirius style, hexed him into the Hospital wing so he wouldn’t make it. I mean I did tell him not to tell you, but I didn’t think he was scared enough of me to take me seriously,” He looked, if possible, even more sheepish. Y/N stared at him, eyes wide. How did I not know this?

“You were so furious after you spoke to him the next day, I just presumed he’d told you. You ruined my weeks’ essays, remember?”

Y/N did remember. It was all coming back to her, storming into Gryffindor Common Room in a rage and, with a flick of her wand, opening all the windows and letting in a huge gust of air that swung through the room and knocked over all of Sirius’ ink bottles that were scattered across the desk he was using the finalise his essays.

Y/N hadn’t bothered to stay and watch the aftermath. She had gone to apologise the next day, but he hadn’t been waiting for her in the common room like he always was so they could go down for breakfast together.

“Yeah, I was mad at him! He went on and on about how he was sick and I shouldn’t blame him for standing me up and to not slag him off to any of my other girlfriends in case he asked them out,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the memory, “I went to apologise to you the next day but you kept avoiding me.”

“I thought you’d want to talk about what I did!” Sirius stepped forward, letting out a huge breath he seemed to have been holding, and began gushing, his words falling off his tongue without a second thought, “I’d have to explain why and then you’d realise I was madly in love with you.”

He breathed out a laugh, significantly calmer. Y/N, on the other hand, felt like he’d just punched her in the throat.

“You what?”

“Merlin’s beard, I’m doing terribly today,” He muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair, “Please don’t freak, it was a while ago I promise, it just made me a little crazy back then. We haven’t really spoken properly in ages anyway,” He tried to laugh it off, but Y/N still felt like it was hard to breathe. A silence fell across them, broken only by the sound of Sirius adjusting his pillow awkwardly. Y/N’s heart was beating hard.

“I…” Y/N tried to laugh as well, as if this was a casual thing to say, “I had a bit of a thing for you as well.”

“Oh,”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me!” Y/N scoffed at him, lifting her arms up in exasperation.

“I thought you knew!”

“How on earth would I know that! I’m not a mind reader.”

“I literally spent every waking hour with you, I asked you out!”

“I think I would have noticed if you asked me out you idiot,” Y/N shook her head at him, “Please, tell me when you asked me out.”

“I asked you to Hogsmeade and you invited James to get to know him better, so I kind of got the hint,” Sirius watched Y/N open and close her mouth a couple of times, unsure how to reply, “You didn’t think it was a date.”

“Not really…” Y/N was unsure if she could feel more like an absolute twat, “I thought you were just seeing if I wanted to go, and I wanted to hang out with James cause you guys were hanging out so much!”

“Wow,” Sirius started laughing, shaking his head, “This is actually changing my life.”

Y/N couldn’t help but join in, feeling her nervous energy emanate in awkward laughter.

“I can’t believe how stupid we were,” Y/N snorted, her face still red but breaking out into a large smile that matched Sirius’.

“Merlin, imagine if we hadn’t been so idiotic, things would be very different,” Sirius laughed, but Y/N felt her smile fade a little as she thought about his words. Holding his hand as they snuck around the back of the Herbology classrooms, where they’d previously made fun of couples for hiding. Sirius taking her to his favourite hiding spots around the castle. Y/N actually being there for him when he’d left home, instead of hearing about it through Remus and leaving a bag of Honeydukes sweets on his bed when he wasn’t there.

“Yeah, really different.”

Sirius’ eyes lifted to meet Y/N’s, his eyes darkening slightly. Y/N had forgotten momentarily that he was completely naked and that the light was getting brighter and brighter in the Common Room.

“Y/N, I –“ Sirius started but there was a sudden noise that made him jump backwards and turn his head towards the stairs, “Shit.”

Sirius grimaced, opening his mouth to say something before shaking his head and making a mad dash back up the stairs to the boy's dorm room before anyone came out of the girl's dormitory to find him stark naked and covered by a pillow.

Y/N stood, a little dazed, in the same spot momentarily, staring out the window opposite her until she heard her name getting called.

“Hmmm, what?” She turned to find Lily watching her, an odd expression on her face.

“Did I hear you talking to someone?”

“No, wait yes, Sirius was down here a second ago, he just went upstairs to get dressed.”

“Right…” Lily still seemed to stare at Y/N, whose expression was likely just as confusing.

“Um, why are you up so early?” Y/N changed the subject quickly, moving to sit back on the couch where the cushions had been hastily thrown earlier.

“Have a meeting with Professor McGonagall about getting a reference for my internship at St Mungo’s,” Lily grinned, “I’m hoping she’ll forgive me dating James.”

“Ahh, she secretly loves James’ shenanigans.”

“Let’s hope so,” Lily sighed, “You coming down for breakfast?”

“Yes – no wait, I’m not dressed am I?” Y/N looked down at herself, still wearing her clothes from the day before, “Oh.”

“Are you ok?” Lily looked concerned, “You didn’t get a concussion yesterday did you?”

“No, I’m fine, sorry, still a little tired obviously. You go ahead, I’ll meet you in the Great Hall,” Y/N gave what she hoped was a convincing smile and moved quickly down towards the girls’ dorm rooms.

Y/N felt like the whole day moved in a kind of daze. Many people went back to Hogsmeade but Y/N opted to join Marlene and Dorcas down by the lake as Dorcas debriefed them on her date the day before.

“Should I have kissed her? I feel like I should have and I just fucked up big time,” Dorcas groaned, throwing her bag down and joining it in a heap on the grass.

“You definitely should have kissed her,” Marlene replied solemnly, “Y/N, what do you think? I reckon she was giving off vibes big time.”

“What?” Y/N looked up at the two girls, both of whom glared at her.

“Were you even listening to me?” Dorcas huffed, “This is an important life or death situation, Y/N. I may have just ruined my first date with the love of my life.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“What’s going on with you, you’ve been out of it all day,” Marlene probed, joining Dorcas on the grass, letting her legs sit out in the sun.

“Nothing, I’m just distracted, sorry,” Y/N dipped her toe in the lake, “You definitely should have kissed her, D.”

“Don’t change the subject!” Dorcas poked her shin with her toe, “or depress me more.”

“Tell usssssss,” Marlene whined at Y/N, “Come on, it’s nearly graduation, we might never ever see each other again and you’ll regret having never shared this precious information with us.”

“Ha ha ha,” Y/N poked her tongue out at Marlene who was pouting, “I just… ugh. Ok, well I sort of spoke to Sirius this morning.”

“I’m excited already,” Marlene grinned, leaning forwards, “Did he profess his love for you yet?”

“I actually hate you,” Y/N bit her lip, “But also like kinda?”

“WHAT,” The two girls had wide eyes, Dorcas’ mouth hanging open slightly.

“Ok well, that’s an over-exaggeration, it was more like he had a crush on me years ago.”

“Less interesting, pretty obvious,” Marlene huffed, leaning back into her arms.

“How!” Y/N glared at her, “how on earth could you know this.”

“Ooooo Y/N, I’m just going to stare at you longingly from across the table all subtle-like,” Marlene put on a terrible deep male voice, staring longingly at Y/N.

“This is why I didn’t tell you,” warned Y/N, but her cheeks twitched as Marlene began to pout in an eerily accurate impression of a brooding Sirius.

“Soooo did he ask you out?”

“Did you make out?”

“We did nothing, at all.”

“You’re as bad as Dorcas,” Marlene shook her head, earning a shove from Dorcas.

“We were interrupted by Lily,” Y/N threw her hands up, “It kind of sounded like… he might have been saying something important…”

“Oooooooo Y/N’s got a date!” Marlene giggled, grinning widely at her. Y/N couldn’t help but grin back at her, Marlene’s enthusiasm was infectious.

“I do not,” said Y/N, but her smile was still giving her away. Marlene reached out and grabbed her arms, pulling her down into the grass with Dorcas.

“You will be a positive human even if I have to punch it into you. Now, sit down and get all brown and tan with me.”

They stayed by the lake until Dorcas’ stomach started rumbling and they made their way to lunch in the Great Hall. It was almost empty, most people having grabbed some food to eat outside or were still in Hogsmeade for the afternoon. Y/N spent most of her meal ignoring Marlene nudging her once Sirius and James had walked in and sat a few seats along the table from them. She also tried to ignore the sound of chairs moving and someone moving quickly behind her once they’d finished and stood up to leave the Great Hall, but her heart had begun beating hard in her chest again, and she cursed her cheeks for refusing to let her hide any kind of emotion from the outside world.

“Oi, Y/N!” Y/N spun around to see Sirius chasing her down the hallway.

“I’ll catch up to you guys,” Y/N tried to smile casually at Marlene and Dorcas, who were winking at her continuously, Marlene blowing kisses in between, “Fuck off, please.”

“Have fun!”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“She can’t even kiss a girl, please do everything she wouldn’t do.”

“Shoo!” Y/N hissed, turning back to see Sirius smirking at her, “Please excuse my two idiotic friends.”

“They are highly entertaining.”

“I stand by idiotic,” Y/N looked up at Sirius expectantly, “What’s up?”

“Well I feel like we didn’t quite finish our conversation earlier.”

“Is that so?”

“Well I mean, I was half-naked and had to sprint up the stairs to avoid being seen.”

“Completely naked if I remember correctly.”

“Ahhh so you were checking me out huh?” Sirius winked at her, stepping closer to her in the hallway. Y/N had the urge to step back, her brain telling her to abort mission, but she stood her ground, watching him closely.

“So what was it you needed to tell me?” said Y/N as calmly as possible, though her voice broke slightly at the end.

“Well I was going to – uh, I mean I wanted to ask – “ Sirius’ stuttered slightly, his face getting flustered. Y/N couldn’t help but smile at him, was he nervous to talk to her?

His nervousness seemed to give Y/N a new bout of confidence, and she stepped forward to meet him.

“You were going to…”

“Ask you…”

“Out?” Y/N finished for him, feeling a little ill, but excited all the same. Sirius laughed at her, shaking his head.

“Jeez, we already finish each other’s senten-“ Y/N leaned in and interrupted him by placing a soft kiss on his lips.

“ences…” Sirius finished, his eyes glazing over as they pulled apart slowly.

“The day after graduation, I’ll meet you in London,” Y/N felt the words spill out, as if her confidence was a ticking bomb and if she didn’t get everything out quickly it would all blow up and float away.

“Deal,” replied Sirius, cupping her cheek lightly in one hand, “And thanks.”

“For what?”

“For asking you out for me.”

“What can I say, I just know what you want,” and with that, she turned on her heels and walked away, her heartbeat loud in her ears. Only took seven years she thought, exhaling deeply, but I guess we’ve got endless time to make up for it.

Taglist

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[aaronbleyaert]

Tomorrow is a Hundred Years Away

And even as I’m pouring the last drops of our second pot of coffee in your cup I’m still trying to tell myself that I’m not going to make another pot, but even my own mind can’t keep a straight face at the thought. I decide to pretend a third pot was the plan all along and pour the water in for another go before bringing your coffee back and setting it down with a little flourish. 

You sit as you do, as we do, every morning, at our big ugly kitchen table: two 30 somethings who are more than happy to slowly sink into the staid portrait of a classic old married couple. We sit side by side, our legs touching, comfortable in the warm silence our two bodies create. The very thing that my teenage self feared most has come to pass: I'm living the life of a happily married woman, wife to a man I adore. The horror of comfort! The terror of wedded bliss! All of those years spent scared of being tied down, of being locked in a marital prison; all for naught. My life, this life, here with you - the whole thing almost feels like too much to wish for. 

I watch as you gaze out the window, trying to burn it into my memory. “Remember this, Stephanie.” I think. “Remember, remember, remember.” I try to lock this moment, this one perfect moment, right now, here, of you and I just like this, away down deep where it can’t be touched. Where it can live, somewhere inside of me, forever. 

Of everything I’ll lose in the next few months, moments like these are what I’ll miss the most.

I remember when you and I sat here - looking out this window, just like we are now - for the first time. That first early morning, having our first coffee together in this house, looking out at the tendrils of early morning mist still stubbornly clinging to the tops of the pines; I remember how the trees seem to stretch out forever like a lush green carpet across the valley before disappearing off into the low hanging clouds in the distant sky. It felt like all the good in our lives was laid out right there in front of us, just waiting for us to step forward into the future and live it. 

“Would you look at that” you said on that morning, a little kid giddy with excitement. “The trees, the clouds, the sky, the world, the planets, the stars; all of it right out there, right outside our humble kitchen window. The whole sum total of existence, all trapped behind a single pane of glass.” 

We sat there in quiet reverence, knees touching, marveling at the vast beauty of the world beyond our window - breathless at the thought that nothing less than the all of existence was sole spectator to you and I, and that moment: Our first morning spent together. I remember gently knocking wood; a quiet wish that this moment would last forever - or that somehow, in some future life, I could live this moment again, Over and over and over, for eternity.

“What a sight.” I said.

And then you leaned over and kissed me. 

Looking back at my life, at our life, that moment is maybe the happiest I've ever been. I wanted to trap it like a firefly in amber and live inside it for a hundred million years. But, of course, the Great Unspoken Tragedy of Time is that it keeps gently nudging us forward, ushering us past what truly matters while muddying the clear waters of purpose with petty wishes and self-important worries. Eyes up! Face forward! Onward! Onward! A brighter future lies just around the corner, it says! A better life! All the while, the happier tomorrow is quietly slipping by the beautiful present into the yearned for yesterday. The next moment is always only a moment away - whether or not you want it to be. We cannot make a home in the present, so we must make that home in our memories. And to lose that home is to lose everything.

Not wanting time to push me forward into the next few minutes and the confession I have to make, I look down and watch my fingers trace the raised patterns of thick paint on the table. God. This table. If there is anything in all of creation that is completely impervious to time - and not to mention ugly - it is our kitchen table.

This thing must weigh a million pounds. A heavy hideous stout old beast slathered with cheap white paint, it’s almost pretty. Like one of those ugly dogs that are cute, it’s where hideous and adorable meet back on the other side. It’s my secret hope that the table is actually made from some kind of beautiful wood; Walnut, or Rosewood. Something valuable. Or Teak: The wood of royals. Wouldn’t that be a trip? Something majestic under all this crap paint? As the doctor visits have mounted and my life has started to come apart these past few weeks, it’s been all I can do to not take a steak knife and scratch off a little of the paint to take a peek underneath to see if my suspicions are true. I can just see the Antique Roadshow now:  

“Stephanie: Good news! Your boring old kitchen table is actually a teak treasure from the jungles of India, brought by the explorer Francisco de Almeida in the year 1505! How did you come about it?” 

“Well, Mark, it’s a funny story; it was actually our kitchen table for years and years, just sitting there, quietly, as we had our coffee every morning. Anyway, one day - ”

 “Wow. How funny.”

“Right? Anyway, one day I had been going through a lot of medical trauma and so to distract myself thought just popped into my head: What if there was something special about our ugly table?”

“Something special, Stephanie?”

“Yes! Something special - you see, it used to be covered in this awful white paint.”

“Thick, cheap, white paint?”

“Yes, Mark. Exactly.” (audience laughs)

“Oh no!”

“Oh yes! And I just started thinking: This table, this ugly, heavy, but otherwise rather unassuming white table - what if there was something more to it? Something special, underneath? Something more beautiful than what we could see on the outsi - “

Hey, what are you thinking about?

I blink quickly, and look up, returning from the Roadshow set to your kitchen. Our kitchen.

Nothing, I say. Why?

You just looked like you were thinking of something funny. 

I look back down at the table, at the white paint. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

I open my mouth to tell you my theory about the table and its secrets, about the Antique Roadshow bit with the 1505 Francisco story in this Mark voice I made up - but instead what comes out of my mouth is not the theory about our (your) table and its exotic secret, but instead it’s the thing I need to tell you. The thing I’ve been needing to tell you for weeks. The Truth.

I’m sick.

I’m really really sick. Like, the kind of sick where people don’t get better sick. I hear myself using some of the same words the doctors used when they told me: Rare, Degenerative, and eventually, the only word that matters in these sorts of cases: Terminal. 

You look at me in disbelief, your wide, beautiful eyes not wanting to accept what I’m saying - much the same way, I imagine, as I looked at the doctor when she told me the news. Only she also used other, bigger, more doctory words like “transmissible spongiform encephalopathy”. I don’t tell you these words; it feels like to say them aloud would be too much like dark magic; too much like summoning an evil I don’t want. Although, at this point, what’s one more curse on top what I’ve already got? 

You look down at your hands. You look at them for a long time. I wonder what you’re thinking. Then you quietly ask how much time we have left. I notice you say we, not me. You’re sweet. 

I press my bare feet into the cold kitchen floor, trying not to cry and trying to figure out how best to tell you the truth without actually having to say it out loud. The silence settles around us like a dark cloud; a flock of big black birds, all watching with their beady eyes, waiting for an answer. Minutes pass. The clock ticks quietly in the hall.

It’s when I tell you how long that you finally start crying. We lean into each other, our bodies comforting each other in their own way. Our coffees sit on the big ugly table, untouched, steam rising lazily into the cool morning air.

Definitely shouldn’t have made that third pot.

***

When I was a kid, I lived next to this kid named Phillip. It was never Phil, just Phillip. One Summer, Phillip and I for some reason became obsessed with digging this hole. I don’t honestly remember how it started; maybe one of us had seen something on time capsules, or maybe we wanted to try to find out if the water table really existed. Whatever. Kids are stupid. 

What I do remember is that, one day after school, Phillip and I for some reason started digging this hole on the side of his house. And every day after that, after school, we would run home, go back to the side of his house, and work on The Hole. Deeper and deeper. Wider. Steeper. Down down down. You’d think that we’d get sick of it - after all, you’re just digging a deep dumb hole, there’s nothing down there but more dirt you dummies - but that wasn’t the way we saw it. To us, it wasn’t just a hole; every spade of earth we turned over was a chance for a new forbidden discovery, a new illicit thrill. Arrowheads! Haunted pottery! Old machine parts! Every day we ran to The Hole, shovels in hand, with the same thought: What new thing would we discover today? What new piece of magic lay secretly buried, all these years, just out of sight, waiting to be discovered and pulled up into the light to be born into a spectacular new life? What beauty lay hidden just under our feet, lost down there in the cold black earth?

Our all-consuming daily digging obsession went on and on past the end of the school year and well across that whole summer; The Hole got so big and deep that we started putting a tarp over it to keep the rain out so it wouldn’t become a flooded mess. In the end though, it met its fate like all childhood adventures: Boring reality butted in. One day, Phillip’s dad walked around the side of the house, found the hole, and made us fill it in. When we protested, he just shook his head: “You spent your whole summer on a hole. Youth is wasted on the young.”

***

My brain is so weird; sometimes I think it knows things that I don’t. For instance, I’ve recently started catching myself thinking of “our” things as “your” things:

Your car.

Your house.

Your bed.

Your ugly kitchen table.

Your life.

Your life after me, of course I mean. What will that be like, I wonder? My life always felt so rushed: I dashed to work, I hurried home, I raced to the store, I ran to the bus, I worried about missing the train, the dinner, the movie. Why? Why did I do that? Why was I worried? My whole life I’ve had plenty of Life left to live, but I spent it all driving a million miles an hour to a million different places - only to get there and be worried about what I was doing next. Onward! Onward! Missing out always felt like a fate worse than death. How wrong I was. 

Now that my life is ending, and there’s an actual clock counting down, I couldn’t care less. I don’t rush anywhere. I don’t race to any event. I don’t worry about making the movie or missing the bus. There will be other movies, other buses. Now that my future has fled, what’s most important is what’s around me, right now. It’s only at the end of my life that I’m realizing that life really takes place in between the times we think will matter; the moments I didn’t pay attention to were the ones that mattered most. Turns out the real beauty in life was there just underneath the surface after all. 

They say those who fail to learn from their mistakes are doomed to repeat them - but that’s wrong. No one gets to repeat anything. We should be so lucky to given such a chance; mistakes or not.

***

My first thought is that I am freezing cold. Why am I so cold? And why is everything in my bedroom orange? I look around, and it takes me a second to realize that I’m not in my bedroom. I’m outside. What am I doing outside at night? The orange glow from the streetlight throws wild, unfamiliar shadows on the trees by the side of the road. What is this? I hear you screaming my name from somewhere far away. As if in response, the icy winter wind gusts out from between the black trunks of the barren pines, pushing me in your direction. I turn, my legs stiff, and begin walking towards where I think you are, but it’s cold and - 

I wake suddenly in our (your) bed. It’s morning. I look around, slowly. The terror of the bad dream slowly drains out of my chest in the white glow of the morning. I look over; you’re still asleep. I desperately have to pee - a side effect of the medication - so I slowly pull the covers back and roll to the side to get out of bed without waking you. As I put my feet on the floor, I notice they are bloody and scratched; black with dirt. Not a dream after all.

***

One night, I call my mother for our weekly catch up - but her phone keeps ringing and ringing. This never, ever happens. She always picks up. Concerned, I find you in the living room half watching the TV while doing your crossword.

I’m worried about my mom. I say. I think she’s in trouble. Maybe hurt.

You look up, sharply. Hurt? What do you mean?

I just tried to call her. It just keeps ringing and ringing. Should we call someone to check on her?

Your face changes. I can tell you don’t want to do this, that it hurts you to do this, but it’s something you feel that you need to do. You pause, then carefully put your crossword aside.

I think your mom is okay. Come here for a second. 

You stand, and I follow you into the kitchen. There is a piece of paper taped to the wall next to the phone that I’ve never seen before. It is written in all caps with a big black marker and says:

CALLING YOUR MOM?

LOOK AT THE CLOCK.

IS IT AFTER 8PM?  ------> YOU HAVE ALREADY CALLED HER TONIGHT.

IF YOU HAVE ALREADY CALLED, SHE WILL NOT ANSWER.

DON’T WORRY, SHE IS FINE.

You look at me, and at the clock. My eyes follow yours. The clock reads 8:34. I slowly nod. As I put the phone back on its cradle, I read the note again. It’s in my handwriting.

***

Even as I’m pouring the last drops of our second pot of coffee in your cup I’m still trying to tell myself that I’m not going to make another pot, but even my own mind can’t keep a straight face at the thought. I decide to pretend a third pot was the plan all along and pour the water in for another go before bringing your coffee back to the table and setting it down with a little flourish. 

You sit as you do, as we do, every morning, at our kitchen table. It’s a heavy old thing slathered with cheap white paint. It must weigh a million pounds. I secretly suspect (read: hope) it’s actually something beautiful underneath; walnut, maybe. Or teak. The wood of royals! Something exotic - wouldn’t that be a trip? These past weeks it’s been all I can do to not give in to the thought and scratch a little bit off with the butter knife to take a peek. What if it’s something valuable? Like really majestic? Hidden under all that hideous thick paint uncaringly slopped on. The more I think about it, the more positive I am: Someone, at some point in history, decided to cover this regal, majestic table in terrible thick white paint. But did that change what the table was, underneath? It changed the way we (I) looked at our (your) table, but didn’t change what the table was, inside. What an epic crime it would be if the table believed that it was just this white coated monstrosity. That it forgot what it truly was, underneath the thick paint. Does it still count as something beautiful? Even if I’m the only one who knows it?

Not wanting time to push me forward into the next few minutes and the confession I have to make, I look down and watch my fingers trace the raised patterns of thick paint on the table. My life, this life, here with you - the whole thing almost feels like too much to wish for. 

I watch as you gaze out the window, trying to burn it into my memory. “Remember this, Stephanie.” I think. “Remember, remember, remember.”

***

It can be hard to see yourself as you really are. To try and see the truth of someone else? Nearly impossible. 

So years ago, I came up with a neat little trick: whenever I would a take photo, I did something sneaky: I would count to three, and then pretend to take the photo. Everyone would smile. Then, believing it was done, they would relax - and that’s when I would really take the photo, capturing everyone in that one unguarded moment. We are really only our true selves when we believe no one is watching. Those moments that are in-between; those are only real moments that matter.

***

I am outside, in the darkness. No orange light, now. On all sides, I am surrounded by branches that claw at me with their long, sharp fingers. No matter which way I turn, they are there, raking their nails across my cold, tender skin. When I was younger I used to live in a hole with a kid named Phillip - not Phil, but Phillip - and every Christmas morning, Phillip would hide under his bed, hysterical, refusing to come downstairs and open his presents. He thought that Santa Claus was a giant bearded fat man in a red suit with long, sharp claws who would crawl down the chimney into the house while you were sleeping. We would sit in our hole, in the dark, and Phillip would tell me in a high whisper about Santa: That he could see deep into your soul with his ancient watery yellow eyes and knew in your heart how you felt - if you had acted bad. If you had darkness in you. It petrified Phillip. Silly Phillip, I think, as I stagger through the cold forest in the dark, the branches scratching my arms and face. The bearded man only wanted to bring you his gifts. The bearded man. With the claws. He would crawl down the chimney while we were sleeping, he would slither into our heads with his long claws and wrap himself around our hearts, knowing how we truly felt. Click click click his claws tapping against the old wooden floors in our house in the night, scratching and scurrying over to the plate of treats we had left out for him; an offering to the long clawed greasy red shadow that came every year in the night. Traveling on the night air, high up in the black sky, soaring on the sharp cold winds that roar right at the edge of space across the slumbering world, the only witness to his flight the endless flickering points of pale flame, flickering white stars long dead, like the countless white grubs in the steaming fresh earth of endless turned spades, that one hot sticky summer we spent digging our hole. Phillip died not long after we filled in our hole; died that winter, his blood leaking out into the bright white snow. His dad put him in a different hole, down in that cold dark earth where everything is alive and nothing lives. Phillip, not Phil.

A sudden winter wind knifes through the dark woods, scattering a small flurry of snow and bringing a gasp to my lips. There is rot in these woods, I think, suddenly afraid. It feels like something is watching as I stumble around; something ancient and hircine, watching with watery yellow eyes, crouched somewhere I can’t see. A low sob escapes my chest. I don’t want this. Please. Long brittle fingers eagerly scrape against each other, somewhere high above against the black night sky. It’s cold. So cold. Off in the distance, a faint voice screams for Stephanie. Who is Stephanie?

***

It’s morning. 

I am sitting in your kitchen, at your table, as you set a cup of coffee down in front of me with a little flourish. It’s cute. Our first date, and already the consummate host! You will make some woman very happy one day, I think. Knock wood that it would be me. It would be nice to sit here with you, morning after morning, day after day, and have this sort of life together. My younger self would recoil at the thought - me? A happily married woman? Content with starting my every day off like this with you - I can just picture my younger self screaming bloody murder. I laugh at the thought. Us, every morning, like this, at this table? A dream. Almost too much to wish for.

Although, this table… It is hideous. Who would paint such a beautiful table with this cheap white paint? A shame. A crime. It has the look of such a pretty, ornate table; you can nearly see the beauty, just underneath the surface. But in your home, this ugly table stands alone - the rest of your house has the look of a woman’s touch. Tastefully decorated, but lovingly lived in. I wonder who you used to live here with. How it ended. Did she break your heart? 

My eyes wander back to the table. I wonder what really is underneath? I can’t stop thinking about it. 

When I was young, my neighbor and I spent the summer digging a hole. To everyone else, it was two weird kids digging a weird hole. But we did it because we had a crush on each other and didn’t know how to say it. So, instead, we spent every day together, digging - it was as good a reason as any to be in one another’s company and not have to awkwardly talk about it. When the hole got deep enough, we would sit in our hole, our special place under the tarp, and make up stories about the things we were going to find; buried treasure, magical pottery; old robot parts. One day, when I was in the middle of a story about a bank robbery and how the gang had no choice but to bury their loot and split up before they were captured, he leaned over and kissed me. It was my first kiss; a small moment in the middle of an unbearably hot, sticky Midwestern Summer under a tarp in a big wet hole next to a house - but I wouldn’t have traded it for anything. I kissed him back. 

There are few things more true in this world than the beauty of a small moment. 

When you’re not looking, I take your butter knife and scrape some of the paint at the edge of the table. The wood underneath is dark. Excited, I try to press into it with my thumbnail. It’s hard! Teak, I’ll bet! I love teak. How beautiful! I smile to myself. A teak table painted birdshit white. Who knew? The wood of the royals, right here under all this cheap paint. A thing of beauty, just waiting its turn to be rediscovered and once again have its moment in the sun.

I look over to see you watching me, smiling with your big wide eyes. Did you see me scratch your table? I smile back. What a beautiful smile you have - and I tell you so. It’s flirting, shameless; I know. But what do I have to lose? A handsome man like you, single? Inviting me here, into your home? Making me a morning coffee, of all things? Almost too much to wish for. 

You ask if I’m hungry; I’m not, but I want to stay with you here in your house for as long as I can, so I say yes. An obvious trick. You laugh and pull out a pan to make some food. It’s quite the production; you drizzle oil into the pan like a ballet dancer; you crack the eggs like a ninja; you drop the salt and it spills all over the floor. I love it. I love it all. I am laughing hysterically, in spite of myself. 

I look out the window: The trees, the world, the sky, the stars; all trapped behind one single pane of glass. All of it just a spectator to you and me and this moment - this one, lovely moment. How can I be so lucky, I think, to live a life that would have just a single moment like this. How lucky to be alive at all. So many years I lived rushing from place to place, right by moments like this, instead of living in moments like this. Youth is wasted on the young.

You look up from the sizzling pan. Ugh, that smile again. Lord. I can’t. My heart beats faster. Do I have a really have a shot with this man? This wonderful man, as I sit at his ugly royal teak table in his beautiful house? Expertly assembling my breakfast on a plate, you glide over with a little dance, and set the plate down. Suddenly, I’m starving. Pulling your chair close, you sit next to me, our bodies almost touching. It is sublime. 

You run your finger over the edge of the table, over the small scratch I’ve made in the paint. I didn’t notice before, but I see now that it’s next to countless other small scratches made by someone else. Sadness flickers across your face, and you look up. Our eyes meet.

It's teak! I can't help but exclaim. The wood of royals!

You break into a laugh.

What a perfect moment, I think. Time pushes us forward - but please, just this once, let it wait. Let me live right here for just a moment more: in our house, at our table. Here, with you. Silence settles around us like a warm blanket. The clock ticks quietly in the hall.

I look out the window. The trees, the world, the sky, the stars; all is still. 

What a sight, I say.

And then you lean in for a kiss.

[dindjarindiaries]

Thunder - Chapter 1: Warm Front

gif via @hvitserkk

summary: Frankie and Luciana escape a party for some much-needed peace and quiet spent with each other, and unspoken feelings start to stir.

warnings: mentions of death, alcohol abuse, drunkenness, partying

rating: R

word count: 3.816k

masterlist

chapter 1: warm front

“I fuckin’ hate parties.”

Frankie sips his beer to hide his smile as Luciana laughs alongside him. “Yet, you’re always at them,” Luciana reminds him, sipping whatever concoction’s in her red Solo cup as she gives his bottle a flick. “And why don’t you ever use a cup? Are you ‘too cool’ for that?”

“Shut up,” Frankie mutters, biting back a smile as he nudges her shoulder. “I just prefer it ‘authentic.’” Luciana laughs as she lets out a sigh, leaning back against the corner of the wall.

Luciana’s not wrong. Even though Frankie hates parties with every fiber of his being, he’s almost always here at Benny’s frat house, finding himself unable to reject the time spent with his best friends. Over the past few years of college, Frankie’s found a friend group that’s become more like a family, unstable at times but also reliable. Tom, Will, and Benny are all people he met within his first week at school—but Santiago and Luciana have been close to his side ever since high school. Him and his four brothers have already planned to move into their next phase of life together serving their country.

Really, Frankie just wants to fly.

He always has. Ever since he was a kid, Frankie’s dreamed of being able to touch the sky. His gaze drifted upwards no matter what time of the day it was, admiring either the clouds or the stars above. His mother used to tell him he could catch a star if he got up high enough, and it would fit right in his pocket. His father used to say he could paint with the clouds, using the edge of a wing as a brush. Frankie would tell them that he’d paint his dad a portrait of their old family dog, and he’d get two stars—one for his mom and one for himself.

That was until his mother finally gave way to her condition, and his father wasted himself away with Jack and Jim Beam not too long after.

But now, Frankie’s got a new family who cares just as much about his dreams of flying. Being the “dad” friend already promised him a spot as their calm and collected pilot, anyway. Santiago always told him that he was the person who steered the group in the right direction—so it made sense that he’d do the same in the air someday. Luciana agreed with those claims. Even though she’s not going to follow the same path as the rest of them, she’s always said that Frankie needs to be in the air. He’s the only one she’d trust, she often tells them all.

So, it’s no surprise that Frankie’s once again found himself on the fringes of another one of Benny’s wild frat parties, keeping a watchful eye over his four brothers as Luciana keeps him company at his side. She’s not big into parties, either—just one of their many similarities. It’s what’s made Frankie draw so close to her, especially over the past few years at college. They understand each other like no one else does. Her and Santiago have been there for Frankie ever since his father started fading, and they practically adopted him into their family. But Frankie would never use the label “sister” on her. He doesn’t know why he can’t do it.

He thinks he might be starting to get an idea as to why, now.

Frankie looks over to see Luciana bobbing her head to the hip-hop tunes that blare out of Benny’s speakers—a firm rule for his parties: current hits only. Her brown eyes are sparkling as she watches the crowd of drunken college kids dancing in front of them, and Frankie likens the appearance of them to that of fresh honey dripping into a warm mug of tea. She has her dark hair tied back in a loose bun behind her head, and a few pieces fall around her face as her free hand tucks them away absentmindedly. Freckles adorn her nose and cheeks, and Frankie has to try to suppress the warmth in his chest when he thinks about how fitting they are for her.

Luciana soon catches Frankie’s eye, and she raises an eyebrow at him curiously. “What?” she asks, observing his close stare. She covers her mouth with her hand self-consciously. “Is there something in my teeth?”

“No! No,” Frankie assures her, chuckling a bit as he takes a hold of her wrist and brings her hand back down. “I just—” Frankie pauses, trying to think of a way to cover his ass, “—I was making sure you’re still awake.”

Luciana furrows her brow as she laughs at him. “I’m not sure how anyone could fall asleep easily here, Frankie,” she remarks, taking another sip of her drink.

Frankie tries to laugh it off, tipping the brim of his hat on his head before taking a swig from his bottle. “If I wasn’t standing, I probably could.”

“I know,” Luciana agrees, nudging his shoulder playfully. “You’re an old man stuck inside a college kid’s body, Francisco.”

Frankie wrinkles his nose at the sound of his full name. “What did you call me, Luciana?”

Luciana gasps lightly and narrows her eyes at Frankie. “Are you trying to full-name me back?”

“And what if I am?”

Luciana doesn’t get a chance to answer before Benny suddenly stumbles over to them, throwing his arms around their shoulders. Frankie and Luciana both fall back a bit at the sudden taking of his weight. Some of the drink in his cup sloshes on Frankie’s shoulder, and he holds back a heavy sigh as the reeking scent of vodka hits his nostrils. “Franksters! Luci-Goosey!” Benny greets them, his voice slurred. “What are y’all doing in the corner?”

“Minding our own business,” Frankie answers simply, earning a snort from Luciana.

“Oh, c’mon,” Benny scoffs. “You’re always avoidin’ the fun! You should go dance!”

“I’d rather watch people make asses of themselves,” Luciana asserts, gesturing to the main part of the house where some hotshot’s just tried to do a backflip—and ended up kicking one of their buddies in the face while also landing straight on their back.

“Fuck, y’all are boring as hell,” Benny whines, taking his own weight again as he lifts his arms from Frankie’s and Luciana’s shoulders. “But thanks for comin’!”

“We always do,” Frankie reminds him, slapping his shoulder in a friendly manner before he stumbles somewhere else.

Frankie and Luciana share a glance, barely able to contain their laughter as they shake their heads. That was the typical Benny interaction they’ve been waiting for, always being urged to do something other than sit in the corner where they’re more comfortable. Frankie wouldn’t change a thing about it.

“Luce, where’s your brother?” Frankie suddenly questions, looking over at Luciana with a raised brow. He’s lost track of his Santiago, Will, and Tom, and he wonders if they’ve gone somewhere else in the house.

Luciana shrugs. “Probably fucking up a nice game of pong,” she confesses honestly, causing Frankie to chuckle to himself.

It’s true—the minute Santiago gets more than a few drinks in him, he’s an absolute shitshow. Any drinking game he touches turns to chaos. Santiago already has a high energy about him, and so it gets intensified when the alcohol starts pumping through his veins. Frankie doesn’t know how he does it, and sometimes he wonders what it’s like to be the life of a party. It’s a role he knows he’ll never fill.

“Hey,” Luciana’s voice suddenly draws Frankie out from his thoughts. He looks back over to see her looking up at him with a sparkle in her eyes, one that makes Frankie want to smile instinctively. “Are you ready to get out of here? I would kill for some pizza right now.”

Frankie laughs, nodding as he finishes off his bottle. It was his only drink over the course of the hour they’d lasted at the party, and so he doesn’t have to deny her request to go for a drive as they head out to his truck. It’s a rusty red color, worn from its years of use but still going as strong as ever. The guys and Luciana have often told him that it’s a perfect reflection of himself—but Frankie doesn’t try to think about it too hard. Going in deep isn’t something he’s mastered yet.

They get into the truck, and as soon as Frankie starts it up, the classic rock station starts to play. It’s his favorite—his parents loved to blast it when he was growing up. He has to suppress the smile that grows when he sees Luciana’s eyes light up out of the corner of his eye. “Ugh, Frankie, you have the best fuckin’ taste in music,” she tells him, closing her eyes as “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac flows out from the speakers. “I swear to God. Sing it, Stevie girl.”

Frankie chuckles, taking off for the local pizza place as Luciana hums along to the tune. He looks over every once in a while to see her gazing out of the open window, as if she’s lost in her own little world. Frankie’s always admired the way she does that so easily. Luciana often escapes into the worlds of her creation, but she somehow also stays grounded to her reality. She’s always been the person that’s able to get Frankie to escape his reality if even for a little bit—and that’s just one of the many reasons why he’s so drawn to her. It’s reaching a dangerous level, and he knows it.

It’s not a conversation he’s had with Santiago yet, but he knows exactly what would result from it. Santiago and Luciana are practically attached at the hip. They’re the kind of twins that truly share everything with each other—and should his sister’s heart be placed into Frankie’s hands, he knows Santiago would be on his case all the time. To make shit easier, Frankie knows Santiago wouldn’t let that happen in the first place. Luciana is off limits in any sense other than friendship, so Frankie doesn’t even let himself get there mentally. For now.

“Thunder only happens when it’s rainin’,” Luciana joins in with Stevie’s voice, and Frankie bites back a smile upon hearing it. “Players only love you when they’re playin’.” Luciana releases a light sigh, finally looking back over at Frankie as he navigates the dark roads. “I wish it was raining right now.”

“Yeah?” Frankie remarks, raising an eyebrow. “Why? Are you a pluviophile, now?”

Luciana giggles softly. “I always have been, Frankie. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed.”

Frankie shrugs, turning into the parking lot of the pizza place. “When have we ever talked about rain?”

“Fair point. I guess we have to do it more often.”

Frankie nods, putting the car in park and flashing her a quick smile. “I guess so.” He starts to get out of the car—leaving it running so that Luciana can stay inside with the tunes playing—but pauses as he holds up a finger and narrows his eyes in concentration. “A pepperoni eight-cut with the Italian parmesan crust?”

“You know me so well, Morales.” She offers a bright smile, one that involuntarily makes Frankie’s chest warm up as he completely gets out of the truck and heads inside. He places their order and waits for it, trying not to drown in his thoughts as he pictures himself flying high above them. He even tries his hand at daydreaming, attempting to envision himself painting his way through the clouds. He can see the world so small beneath him, putting himself in a place where he doesn’t have to think about everything he’s left there. All that would matter is keeping his eyes on the horizon and steering ahead—and maybe even capturing a star when the sun sets.

His daydream’s soon interrupted by the finishing of his order, and he takes the box with a low thank-you before heading back inside the truck. Frankie sets it on the backseat, chuckling when Luciana dramatically inhales the scent of the freshly baked pizza.

“God damn, do they make some heavenly shit here,” Luciana comments, causing Frankie to laugh harder as he starts to head back to the house. “I can’t wait to devour that.”

“That makes two of us,” Frankie agrees, glancing over at Luciana quickly as he drives on.

“Four slices for each of us,” Luciana reminds him. “It’s perfect.”

“Four?” Frankie scoffs playfully. “Last time, you could only handle three.”

“Oh, fuck off, Flyboy,” Luciana retorts. “Last time we also got garlic knots. I can only hold so much at once.”

“Sure, Luce. Sure.” Frankie laughs as Luciana swats at his shoulder, and he sees her shaking her head with a hidden smile as she crosses her arms.

They spend the rest of the drive listening to the tunes of the radio, sitting in an otherwise peaceful silence. It’s not too long until Frankie’s pulling into the long driveway of the house. It’s a respectively large space, split between the boys and Luciana. Everyone’s able to have their own rooms—save for Will and Benny, but Benny usually splits his time up between staying there and staying at the frat house—and they never let it get too crazy. Parties are always held at Benny’s frat house, which helps to keep their own home in shape. If it’s just the six of them, they’ll keep the party to themselves, but otherwise their home is like a sacred space just for their little family. Frankie wouldn’t have it any other way.

Just as Frankie’s about to turn the engine off, Luciana stops him, keeping his hand from touching the keys as she shakes her head. “Let’s eat in here,” she suggests, already starting to reach back for the pizza. “I’m really feeling these songs right now.”

“I can turn the radio on in the house,” Frankie reminds her, gesturing with his thumb to the house behind him.

“Yeah, but there’s something about it coming through the truck speakers.” Luciana sets the pizza box down onto the center console, opening it and taking a slice for herself. “It just really hits deep.”

Frankie snorts, also taking a slice and folding it in half. “Alright, but if you get grease stains on my seats, I’ll have no choice but to fucking kill you.”

“You got it, ‘dad,’” Luciana jokes, and Frankie shakes his head as she lets out a laugh. They continue to eat and bop along to the songs that play, mostly accompanied by Luciana’s random commentary on the selections. “Have you ever thought about how fuckin’ creepy this song is?” she reflects when The Police’s “Every Breath You Take” starts playing. “Like, it’s a love song, but he’s basically like ‘I’m always watching you.’ That shit is terrifying.”

“What, you wouldn’t find it romantic if someone was watching you all the time?” Frankie teases her while he moves onto his third piece of pizza, pleased to find that he still hasn’t gotten a grease stain on his jeans yet.

“Hell no!” Luciana lets out a cut laugh, shaking her head as she also goes for her third slice.

“Okay, fair.” Frankie pauses to bite off a piece and chew it up, contemplating his next few words as he does so. “Then, what would you consider romantic?”

“Jesus, there’s like… so many things.” Luciana’s gaze drifts to the roof of the car as she thinks, chewing on her food as she does so. Frankie waits curiously for her response, continuing to eat as he watches her think. “I mean, for starters, you can never go wrong with pulling the gentleman card. You know, like opening doors and pulling out chairs.”

“That’s not cheesy?”

“No! If anything, the fact that it’s going out of style is so depressing to me.” Luciana clicks her tongue and shakes her head, and Frankie can tell by the way she’s narrowed her eyes that she’s thinking again. “Honestly, the most important thing is just knowing what she likes. You gotta make sure you’re playing her favorite songs and bringing her to her favorite places—without her having to tell you ahead of time. Picking up on those hints along the way is so important.”

“Noted.” Frankie finishes off his third piece after he speaks, watching as Luciana raises an eyebrow at him.

“Plan on being romantic anytime soon, Morales?”

Frankie scoffs, shaking his head as he reaches for his last slice. “No, not likely. But it’s good to know.” He shovels a bite into his mouth, hoping it’ll keep him from having to speak again. Frankie soon realizes he’s unsuccessful, as Luciana’s head has now tilted in a curious manner at him. He releases a sigh, waiting until he finishes chewing to go on. “Maybe, one day, I’ll be able to take someone up to the sky with me. Show them the clouds. Catch a star for them.” Frankie shrugs. “Just—y’know—that’s probably not something I’ll have soon.”

Luciana smiles a bit, but Frankie easily sees a hint of darkness in her gaze. “That’s sweet, Frankie. But why don’t you think you can have it soon?”

Frankie’s breath catches in his throat. Why does he think he can’t have it soon? Because he’s not ready to let his heart be taken? Because he’s so guarded that only five other people know his true heart, but still don’t even know all of it? Because he’s denying himself a painful truth? Frankie doesn’t have a fucking clue. But Luciana’s still waiting for an answer, her dark gaze glittering as she waits to take her last slice into her mouth. “Not enough time, I guess. And how can I show someone the sky when I don’t even have my piloting license yet?”

“Fair point,” Luciana agrees, finally digging into her pizza. Frankie holds back a sigh of relief, continuing with his slice as well. They finish off their servings in comfortable silence, letting the sounds of classic rock lull them into a rhythmic state of conscious slumber. Frankie’s thoughts solely drift to the words of the singers, and he pictures himself hearing the songs play as he returns home from piloting school—his mother singing along with them as he shows her his license. She would smile at him in that endearing way she always used to and playfully ask if they can play Journey on their way up when she finally gets to fly with him. I want some Journey on our first journey!, she always used to joke with Frankie. Now, he just tries not to listen to Journey at all.

His trance is broken when Luciana suddenly lets out a gasp, and Frankie feels alert for a moment until he realizes that a new song’s come on the radio. He tunes his ears in and hears the beginning instrumental of Foreigner’s “Waiting For a Girl Like You”—a guilty pleasure song of his that he’s not willing to reveal to anyone else. But it must be Luciana’s, too, because she’s looking at Frankie with excitement in her dark gaze. “This… this is my fuckin’ song,” Luciana tells him, clearing her throat as the lyrics soon come in.

“Of all songs, you chose one of classic rock’s cheesiest?” Frankie jokes.

Luciana places a hand on her chest, pretending to be hurt. “It’s not cheesy. It’s romantic. And it’s an absolute classic.”

Frankie raises his hands in fake surrender. “Alright, Luce, you got me there. Go ahead, freak out.”

Luciana narrows her eyes at him, laughing it off as she starts to let herself jam along. “Maybe I’m wrong, won’t you tell me if I’m comin’ on too strong?”

“This heart of mine has been hurt before, this time I wanna be sure…” Frankie murmurs the words under his breath, hoping Luciana won’t hear it over her own singing. He would never hear the end of it.

“I’ve been waiting!... for a girl like you, to come into my life.” Luciana sings the words unashamedly, closing her eyes as she spreads her arms wide. Frankie chuckles lightly—more in admiration of her free spirit than in amusement. Luciana finishes the chorus and shakes her head, looking at Frankie with a raised brow. “I’m telling you. A fuckin’ classic.”

“Hey, I believe you,” Frankie retorts, chuckling as he releases a sigh. He looks around, seeing the dark street around them. “I think we’ve overstayed our welcome in this truck. She’s gonna be begging for mercy if we don’t go inside soon.”

“Shit, I didn’t even think about that,” Luciana confesses, reaching for the empty pizza box. “I’m sorry, Frankie.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Frankie assures her. “It was worth it.”

Luciana simply smiles in response, setting Frankie’s chest ablaze yet again as they walk inside the house together. They remain silent as they settle in, soon heading upstairs to their respective bedrooms. Before they part, Luciana stops Frankie for a moment, her hand reaching for his arm. Frankie faces her with his brow raised. “Thank you, Frankie,” she says softly, her dark gaze looking straight into his. “For always being there for me—and getting some damn good pizza with some hella’ good tunes.”

Frankie chuckles softly, shaking his head at her. “You don’t have to thank me, Luci. I enjoy it just as much.”

Luciana widens her smile, bidding Frankie goodnight before she disappears into her room. Frankie bites back his own, entering his room and preparing for bed. He flops down onto it with a sigh, hating the way his mind feels cloudier than usual. He’s being swept by a feeling he’s had before—but it’s starting to almost overpower him now. Frankie’s afraid he won’t be able to ignore it anymore.

The lyrics to the song are stuck in his head. It’s a torturous reminder of himself and his own heart—and that’s why he’s annoyed when the lyrics run through his mind. It feels so right, so warm and true, the words taunt him. I need to know if you feel it too. Does he, though? Because Frankie’s pretty damn certain he’s content with ignoring every feeling he has. He’s been doing it ever since his mother passed—and he’s pretty sure he can keep doing it.

But then he thinks on that chorus: I’ve been waiting for a girl like you to come into my life. And Frankie can’t help wondering if that’s exactly what’s happening. As he hides himself underneath his covers to sleep, he hears distant thunder rumble outside, and he smiles for the fact Luciana will get her pluviophile moment—even if she’s asleep.

next part: chapter 2: cold front

thunder tag list: @youhavereachedtheendofpie​ @charmantbarnes​ @theindiealto​ @fangirl-and-stuff​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @maybege​ @amarvelousmandalorian​ @seawhisperer​ @mrsparknuts​ @saltywintersoldat​ @softpedropascal​ @i-hide-inside-my-head​ @sunshinepascal​

permanent tag list: @mikahid​ @theforceofdarkandlight​ @stilllivindue2spite​ @givemethatgold​ @xbrujita​ @mandalorianspace​ @blushingwueen​ @sevvysaurus​ @myakai13​ @thisis-theway​ @beskars​ @rachelloveseveryone​ @theindiealto​ @hiscyarika​ @burningsoulbloodyheart​ @wickedfrsgrl​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @bookwafflefangirl​ @charliepeaceout​ @lavenderl3mons​

#i know it's like 2 am so y'all won't be around for a while #i'm waiting for the mando doc lol #also i love frankie please #my BABY #i'm making up his canon #we'll go with it #frankie morales #francisco morales #catfish morales #frankie morales fic #catfish morales fic #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #thunder fic #dindjarindiaries

[mrfutureboy]

I would like to know when you started drawing and where your passion for fanart started 😊

Oh FUCK dude i did not see this i’m so fucking sorry this is so late 😭 damn you, tumblr, for not fucking notifying me!! Anyway buckle up this is gonna be much longer than you asked for <3

Honestly ive kinda been drawing all my life! I hope that doesnt sound dumb cuz obviously almost everyone drew pictures when they were kids, but i know that it’s been a consistent hobby for me since i was little. By the time i was in 3rd grade I was hoarding notebooks to draw in. Cuz that’s something fun about me: i had a real huge habit of drawing in things that werent sketchbooks. Through middle school and beyond I did buy/receive sketchbooks, but I started out with various kinds of notebooks. One I had from like 2nd grade was like a hardcover, stationary-type notebook that I drew cats in lol, and I have 2 velvet lisa frank notebooks from 3rd grade. In high school and college I had a really bad habit of drawing in the margins on my notes and on handouts the teacher/professor would give. Those classes where the prof just prints out all the notes beforehand and gives them to you to follow along? Oh man, I spent so many classes barely listening while I drew on them! I also used to draw on my physics homework and tests and sometimes I even got extra credit for them (thank you jeff :D). I actually have a folder of various drawings I’ve kept from that 8yr time period and a lot of them are on classwork 😂

Obviously, I’ve been doing a lot of digital art lately, which I’m sure is what u were more curious about rather than the shit about drawing on my homework. I got a surface pro as a graduation gift in 2016 bc prior to that i had a wacom tablet and a janky ass laptop, so the gift was kinda a 2-in-1: i can do schoolwork AND art easily! i like digital art a lot and honestly im still learning new things abt it every time i draw. I use Leonardo currently (i’ll skip that story) but I started out doing digital art on sketchfu WITHOUT the wacom tablet in maaaaybe 2012??? 2011??? does anyone on this site remember sketchfu? Honestly couldnt even tell u how i found that site hahah the internet was just full of wonders back in the day. RIP sketchfu. Once i got the tablet tho some time later i used sketchfu still (i think) but also gimp and krita i believe.

Oh i suppose I should mention that i took art all four years of highschool and also minored in it in college! So it’s something i did academically as well as for fun. I keep thinking about going to art school for realsies but idk. I’m already $$$ in debt from my first degree i dont feel like adding to that 😅😓

Ok now for the second part of your question: I’ve also pretty much always done fan art! Ive never really been one for OC’s, EXCEPT for the self-insert superhero double life “comics” i wrote about a poodle named Sassy when i was in third grade. And then the knock off “comics” i wrote at a later time which honestly it was weird that i did a knock off of my own thing rather than just adding them to the original or making it a spin off with at least one of the og characters. Cuz it wasnt a spin off!! But anyway there wasnt really much to any of these characters; i just needed vessels to get my weird ideas out.

So anyway yeah most of what ive ever drawn has been fan art or self portraits, because its just easier for me to take characters that already exist and bend them to my will (artistically). Well excluding art assignments in school i guess because i would usually have to draw something specific and therefore not something self indulgent. But yeah ive drawn for lots of fandoms like the earliest i remember is warrior cats. Then theres things like pokemon and warriors and random other books i read thru middle school (i used to read a LOT but now im practically illiterate); spn, sherlock, and marvel through high school; and then marvel and bttf thru the end of hs and beyond. Idk i also have always loved looking at other peoples fan art and so im like “shit i wanna do that too!”. Tho i will say marvel was my biggest fandom and the one i had the longest interest in, so that was probably where the passion REALLY came from cuz I was drawing marvel stuff for such a long time (tho not posting shdjsk u have to trust me), but ive been doing fan art forever :)

(Of course, a lot of the fan art i was making prior to recently was drawn in lined notebooks or on homework sheets or what have you, and I wasn’t posting really any of it, but i was still making it and a good chunk of it still exists. Oh i should also mention most of it was with pencils or ballpoint pens like i wasnt doing anything too fancy. There was some digital art in the highschool-college time frame but it also really wasnt…much. Honestly i barely posted any of it here but I know some of it’s on deviantart)

I cant pinpoint the exact time I started getting more “serious” about my art in general, but i know the first pandemic lockdown gave me more free time and i was less stressed about schoolwork so i just kinda had a good outlet. (Tho i will say that prior, I had been in a life drawing club for a short while, and i had also been working on a personal sketchbook project that had me pretty ~inspired~ to do art. Also i watched twin peaks around this time and it inspired a lot of Feelings and i was making funky collages and other art pieced that were sometimes related to that. Some of those are on deviantart)

Honestly I think the Big thing with my digital art was coincidentally getting back into BTTF the summer of the 35th anniversary bc the fandom here was THRIVING and i was like “oh shit wait i want to contribute!” But as i kept drawing i kept wanting to improve and that leads us to right now where im constantly trying new things (whether subtle or obvious) and challenging myself to do full body drawings with different poses, and doing screencap redraws and what have you for various reasons (backgrounds, proportions, pose, etc)

So yeah :) Basically I’ve been doing fan art forever (I didnt even get into all the mediums ive tried but that’s another conversation bc this is already so long and convoluted) and it’s kinda coincidental that ive suddenly really gotten back into it and have improved dramatically in such a short time. Thank you so much @rovermcfly for the ask and again im really sorry you had to wait so long for a response! Stupid tumblr

#rovermcfly #signed sealed delivered #THANK U SM I HOPE U ENJOY KY RAMBLING :) #id love to ramble more if theres anything else u’d like to hear about my art journey :) bc i know this is all over the place lmfao #i will say some periods of life were a bit more inspired than others and thats bc i like will not draw if im too stressed #bc likely if im too stressed im too tired. see: a few weeks ago when that job was draining my life force