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messers-moony · 3 years

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Annotated Books & Sleek Hardcovers | R.B

Paring: Regulus Black X Fem!Lupin!Reader

Summary: Everything told them to be apart, but they said fuck the world.

Inspiration: Click

People would describe the younger Lupin sibling as warm and bright. She shined like the sun and was warm like a sunny summer day. She was the breeze on a warm summer day and the sun on a chilly autumn morning. She was worn books with annotations in the margins, highlighting, and scribbles. She was dependable, sweet, kind, and loving.

Dependable like a best friend. Sweet like Honeydukes chocolate. Kind of like a puppy dog who had been just adopted and as lovable as soft blankets. Her brother was no different. He oozed shyness, charisma, and intelligence. His tousled sandy hair and gleaming green eyes made everyone bend to his will. He didn’t even know that he was doing it.

But by fifth year, Remus Lupin had come out as gay. A month later, Sirius Black was on top of the Gryffindor table with a blushing Remus announcing their relationship. Remus had given his sister a sheepish look as he sat back down. Y/n had just kissed his cheek and smiled.

Y/n and Regulus had been sitting beside each other when Sirius had taken the Great Hall by storm. Instinctively, Regulus tightened his grip on her hand, and Y/n allowed her thumb to run along his. She watched as his shoulders relaxed a prominent amount.

“Well,” Regulus whispered, “I wasn’t expecting that. Did you know?”

Y/n shook her head, “No, but I’m happy for them. Are you?”

“I ‘spose.” Regulus shrugged, “When do you think they’ll find out about us?”

“Remus is a bit oblivious.” Y/n replied, “Sirius doesn’t really turn his head in your direction.”

Regulus looked down at his lap, “So if anything, we’ll have to tell them.”

“Do you think,” His voice was lower than a whisper, “That he’ll ever be my brother again?”

“I do.” Y/n leaned her head on his shoulder, “Siblings have a special bond.”

“I hope you’re right.”

She snorted, “I’m always right.”

At that, he cracked a smile.

Maybe it was her warmth that melted the ice surrounding Regulus’ heart. The icy, cold, Regulus Black. It wasn’t like they were hiding their relationship, but people were terrified to talk about it. They didn’t want to face the wrath of the young Black brother.

Regulus was described as the dark, cold winter nights people despised. The winter nights that were so low in temperature that even staying inside with the heat on, blankets on, and layers of clothes couldn’t warm. He was sleek, hardcover books and soggy leaves in the fall that left you disappointed when the satisfying crunch didn’t echo through your ears.

Regulus Black was everything but warm. He was your least favorite color. Your least favorite food. He was everything you hated. Perhaps it was Y/n’s sweetness that brought some of the crunchiness back to his leaf, the pen to his book, and the folded pages.

They were star-crossed lovers. Everything in the universe was trying to keep them apart from the colors of their robes and the clashing of their personalities. Regulus was the dry autumn and brash winter. Y/n was the prospering spring and hopeful summer. Perhaps they were the best of both worlds, and that’s why they worked together so well.

It wasn’t until their sixth year when their relationship had become the talk of the school. Regulus had begun wearing long sleeves even in the hot months, and people grew suspicious. Only he and she knew what laid beneath that crisp white button-up. Beneath the cold ice he kept around his heart.

Y/n looked around Platform Nine and Three-Quarters for her raven-haired boyfriend as Remus joined his friends on the train. When she did find him, it wasn’t pleasant. Walburga had been fussing with his sleeve, making sure it stayed down, and she had slapped the back of his head for slouching over. Regulus had rolled his shoulders to stand up straight. Orion didn’t look impressed, and Walburga murmured something along the lines of, “Good enough.”

“Now, what do we say, Regulus?”

Regulus caught Y/n’s eyes for just a split second, and he looked away hastily, “Toujours Pur.”

“Good.” Walburga stated, “Now go.”

He nodded and began walking toward Y/n’s general direction. Regulus took her hand in his directing her on another path, “Meet at our usual compartment.”

Y/n gave him a smile in response as she walked away. It left Regulus with a pink hue coating his usually pale skin. His stomach fluttered, and his heart palpitated. They entered the train on opposite sides and met in the middle at their compartment. She was already sitting down when he plopped down beside her. His head was leaning on her shoulder.

“Missed you.” Regulus slurred, sleep evident in his tone, “Wish I could’ve escaped.”

“I missed you too, Reggie.” Y/n took his left hand in hers, “But I know that we have a lot to talk about.”

He tensed, “I suppose we do.”

“Things like what’s on your left forearm?”

“Y/n, please-“

“I’m not mad.”

“But you’re disappointed.”

Her light laugh confused him, “I’m not either, actually.”

Regulus lifted his head to look at her, “You aren’t?”

“I just want to know what you plan on doing with that mark.”

“I don’t have a choice.” Regulus stated, slumping down again, “I have to serve him.”

Y/n hesitated, “You have choices.”

“What are they?”

“Be a spy.”

“A spy?” Regulus queried incredulously, “Are you serious?”

A silly smile graced her features, “Actually. Forget I asked that. Are you daft?”

“No.” Y/n replied, “I’m actually top of our class, so.”

“If he finds out I’m a spy. Then I’d be killed, Y/n.” Regulus said softly, “It’d be different if I didn’t care about anyone. If I had nothing to lose, but I do, and I don’t want to lose a chance at a future with you because of it.”

Y/n took his face into her hands, “You can’t do this. You can’t work for him. You’ll kill yourself slowly anyway.”

“I don’t have a choice.” He wiped a tear from her cheek, “This was bound to happen. This was my fate.”

“Who gives a shit about fate.” Y/n chuckled tearfully, “Professor Trelawney always said that you could change fate.”

Regulus cracked a tiny smile, “You would pay attention in Divination, wouldn’t you.”

“Someone’s gotta give Sirius the notes.”

“Sirius… I didn’t even think about-“ Regulus stopped, “He’s- He’s gonna hate me.”

“Hey, Regulus, look at me.” His breathing sped up, and his hands began to tremble, “Sirius isn’t going to hate you.”

He shook his head, “No, he’s- he’s gonna- I’m gonna-“

Y/n wrapped her arms around him. Regulus nosed at the crook of her neck, breathing in the sweet perfume. The fragrance smelt of crisp apples mixed along with her scent of caramel, chocolate, and marshmallow. It gave him something to focus on, and with his muddled mind, Regulus fell asleep.

Regulus was still asleep three hours later when Sirius came barging into the compartment stopping in his tracks. Y/n brought her index finger to her lips, ordering him to be quiet. Sirius shut the door and sat in front of them. Regulus’ face was out of view from his older brother's. His nose was nuzzled in Y/n’s neck, and his hair hid his face.

“So,” Sirius began quietly, the atmosphere had never been so thick, “How long?”

“Fourth year.” Y/n thought Sirius’ eyes were going to bulge out of his head.

“But you- and him- you don’t-“

“Don’t belong together?”

Sirius nodded, “Who are you to say? Technically I could say the same about you and my brother.”

“Fair point.” Sirius muttered.

It was quiet again, and all that was heard was the slashing of rain on the window of the train, “How- How is he?” Sirius’ voice had never been so quiet before.

“He’ll be okay.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

Before Y/n could respond, Regulus began to tremble again. He was trying to dig his nose deeper into her neck and reaching desperately for something to hold onto. Y/n allowed his hand to grasp hers tightly. His trembling subsided, and Y/n gently kissed the crown of his head, allowing him to relax finally.

“How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“I never-“ Sirius looked shocked, “I could never calm his nightmares….”

Y/n gave him a soft smile, “Perhaps it’s a Lupin talent.”

“Perhaps.” Sirius replied, “But, is he okay?”

“He will be.”

“What does that mean?” Sirius questioned loudly, and Y/n hushed him, “They didn’t- did they?”

She nodded solemnly, “We’re gonna- We’re gonna work through it together.”

Sirius could see her swallowing the lump in her throat. Sirius could see the dullness in her eyes, the same dull that Remus’ eyes got after the full moon. Sirius could always read Remus through his eyes. They were a tell-tale of his emotions. It seemed that he could do the same with Y/n. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, untold trauma, and unspoken words.

“Take care of him, yeah?” Sirius requested quietly as he stood up to leave the compartment.

She nodded, “Yeah.”

He closed the sliding door quietly. It was a quiet walk back to his own compartment with the Marauders. The task of getting the summer homework to copy turned into an entirely new adventure. Sirius opened the door to his compartment to find James and Peter talking animately. Remus sat with his head against the glass and head in a book. He had some muggle markers beside him that Sirius liked to draw with.

Sirius slumped beside Remus putting space between them. That was the first tell. The second tell was that Sirius didn’t speak, and he stared out to the train's hallway. Remus closed his book, placing it back beside him, and wrapped his arm around his boyfriend's shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was low and hot in Sirius’ ear.

“Nothing.” Sirius replied, still not looking into Remus’ eyes, “Your sister was no help. Said I needed to do the homework on my own. Said I was a tosser for not doing it.”

Remus snorted and nuzzled his nose into Sirius’ cheek, “Well, perhaps I ought to tell her that’s not how she should speak to my boyfriend.”

“No.” Sirius hated how distant he sounded, “She’s got other things to worry about.”

The lycanthrope furrowed his eyebrows, “Like what?”

“Like you.” Sirius lied like it was nothing, “Who do you think puts hot cocoa and Honeydukes chocolate at your bedside after the full?”

“Then I should give her a sister of the year award.” Remus corrected, and Sirius nodded, “Perhaps you should.”

If only I could get a best brother award, Sirius thought. It was selfish. He knew that. It was wrong to envy Y/n and Remus’ relationship. Unfit to be jealous of his brothers relationship, but he couldn’t help it. Sirius wanted to be the one to chase all of Regulus’ demons away. Sirius wanted to hold him during every thunderstorm as he used to as children. Sirius should be happy for Regulus even if it weren’t because of him.

It took a month before Remus was storming into the common room and yelled insanities at his sister. Remus wasn’t thinking, words fell from his mouth so carelessly, and the entire common room stared as Remus had his sister pushed against a wall, hands holding her up from the collar on her shirt, seething at her.

“You must be one of the stupidest people I’ve ever met.” Remus seethed, and Y/n flinched, “You must be fucking insane.”

Sirius could do nothing but stare, “Maybe I should’ve disowned you as my sister the minute I saw you hanging out with him.”

Tears ebbed at Y/n’s eyes, “But I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I trusted you, and you betrayed me.”

James couldn’t tell what was worse, the fact that Remus was so calm and his voice was so low or when Remus yelled, “You were my everything. My sister, my partner in crime, my other half, and you fucking destroyed it.”

“Mate, stop.” James tried to interject, but Remus just shoved her against the wall harder, and streaks of silver appeared on her cheeks.

“Wonder what dad would do if he found out.” Remus taunted, and Y/n shook her head, “You know how much dad despises them.”

Y/n choked, “Remus-“

“Don’t.” He snarled, “My name isn’t allowed to fall from your mouth. Fucking traitor.”

Sirius had enough, “Remus, stop. That’s enough.”

Remus whirled around, Y/n sliding to the floor, knees to her chest, “Who are you talk? You did the same thing back in fifth year.”

“I’m not your bloody sister.” Sirius snapped, “She’s been there with you through everything. Maybe if you let her explain, then you could understand.”

Remus pointed at her and looked at Sirius with fire in his eyes, “She isn’t my sister. She’ll never be my sister again.”

Sirius could remember the exact same words falling from his mouth only a year earlier, and it crushed him. Y/n was sobbing, and her knees were pulled tightly under her chin. James was trying to console her, but it wasn’t working as Remus and Sirius went toe to toe. Y/n didn’t deserve this for loving who she loved.

Remus scoffed when Sirius wouldn’t back down and stormed up to the boy's dormitory. Sirius knelt before her and lifted her head from her lap. His thumbs wiped away the tears, and he took her into his arms. So much built-up pain, built-up trauma, built-up lies. She was finally crumbling like a tower on an unsteady foundation. Y/n was a one-hundred-story tower that was collapsing from the bottom up.

Debris falling everywhere and soot clouding the atmosphere. He could see the smog slipping in her mind, clouding up her judgment and thoughts. Sirius could see the debris cluttering and scraping away at her heart. With every scrap and every tear, her heart began to give out. It felt like being crushed in an elevator, with no room to breathe and no room for moving. She was stuck, and that was it.

Y/n couldn’t remember much after feeling Sirius’ lips on the top of her head. But she woke up on the plush of the common room couch. The rough maroon fabric was felt beneath her fingertips. Beside her was a boy in an armchair. He was curled up, and a black fleece blanket covered his body from the coldness of the Gryffindor common room.

Beside her was a glass of water and a note. She picked up the water and allowed it to glide down her throat, soothing the ache from her earlier crying. Her nose still felt stuffy, and she willed herself to sniffle quietly, trying not to wake the boy beside her. The parchment was ripped at the edges and was written in beautiful calligraphy.

"Il y a toujours des ténèbres avant que la lumière brille."

She folded the note and placed it back on the side table with the empty glass. The fire had gone out fully in the common room, allowing the temperature in the room to fall. It was cold, dry, and dark. Y/n had never seen the common room so dark. Not a candle was lit, and no light was shining from the windows. Just the slightest bit of moonlight. Gently she stood up and reached for the boy's hand in the armchair.

“Reggie.” Her voice was smooth and soft, “Reg.”

He stirred and opened his eyes to meet his girlfriend's warm ones. Sirius had rushed to the Slytherin common room despite all prejudice. Some of the Slytherins spat at him when he asked for the password. It took ten people before Regulus finally answered to the incessant knocking. He was shocked to be met with his older brother.

There Sirius had told him what happened, how Remus had shoved his sister against the wall accusing her of betraying him for dating him. Regulus felt ashamed. He didn’t want to be the reason they didn’t get to be civil with each other. Sirius even uttered the exact words Remus had, “She isn’t my sister. She’ll never be my sister again.” Regulus had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying anything.

People stared at the younger Black brother as he walked into the Gryffindor common room. The Gryffindor’s glared, spat, and insulted, but he didn’t care. He found his girlfriend lying on the couch with a thick red blanket surrounding her. Sirius had claimed that Marlene had brought it for her, and Sirius had been the one to move her to the couch. Regulus saw the dried tear stains, the swollen eyes, and the bruised lip.

“It wasn’t pretty.” Sirius had muttered, “Remus isn’t one to hold back.”

Regulus smoothed her hair back, “This is because of me….”

“Reg, no.” Sirius had replied, “Remus will come around. He just doesn’t know how to digest this.”

The common room was silent, and Regulus just held her hand. His thumb stroked the back of her hand softly. Sirius watched as Regulus went through a wave of emotions. He was hurt, confused, concerned, and terrified. It was like watching the seasons go by. Watching everything welt, die, grow back and prosper just to repeat the cycle. It was like watching a new book turn into an old one as the ink was embedded onto the pages, the papers getting folded, tabs being placed, and the spine being cracked.

Regulus appeared to be a sleek hardcover book, but she was his person. She turned him into a used paperback. One with highlighting, tabs, folded pages, a cracked spine, and a loved cover. His heart beat for her. She was the reason he woke up every morning, the reason he ate, the reason he got good marks. She was his reason.

“I tried talking sense into him.” Sirius confessed quietly, “He just brought up the incident in fifth year.”

Regulus closed his eyes tightly and tried to withhold his tears, “Maybe I should talk to him.”

“No.” Sirius said sternly, “You’ll be asking for death.”

“What do I do, Sirius?”

His blue-grey eyes were glittering with desperation, “Nothing… Take care of her.”

With that, Sirius left a kiss on his younger brother's head and left the common room, retreating to the dormitory. Regulus sighed and placed his forehead on the back of her hand. Tears slipped from his eyes and onto the material of the couch. Everyone was gone at that point. The common room wholly cleared and the fire slowly decaying in the fireplace as Regulus Black finally allowed himself to break.

He woke up on an armchair with a soft thick black blanket covering his limbs. Red rimmed e/c eyes met his blue-grey ones, and he felt a wave of relief. Y/n reached her hand out, and Regulus took it, keeping the blanket around his shoulders as she brought him to her dormitory. The girls were sleeping, and Y/n sat down on her bed, Regulus doing the same. She drew the curtains and muttered a silencing spell.

Regulus laid with his head on her pillow, pulling her to lay on his chest. He wrapped the fuzzy black blanket around them. Y/n nuzzled into his side, and he placed a kiss on the top of her head. They didn’t need to exchange words for expressing how they felt. They knew how the other felt. There was no need on elaborating. She fell asleep not too long after, and Regulus laid awake trying of solutions.

Even when the sun broke the horizon, Regulus still had nothing.

They continued the year like this. Remus and Y/n didn’t speak at all anymore. Remus went as far as to change his schedule and ignore the sweets left on his bedside after the full moons. Sirius would pretend it came from him, but Remus still would budge. He would chuck the chocolate in the trash even though he knew that Y/n barely had money in the first place to buy it. He’d dump the hot chocolate in the waste bin and smash the mug to get out any frustration.

Sirius thought that the worst part was Remus never grieved for his sister. He never saw Remus cry or get upset about what he did. It was like Remus had no remorse for what he did. Sirius had grieved. He had sobbed in the midst of twilight with shit silencing charms. Sirius had wailed and clutched his blanket close to his chest, hoping it would soothe the aching of his heart.

When they graduated, Remus didn’t look for his sister in the crowd. He didn’t care if she was there or not, but she was. Y/n was there holding Regulus’ hand tightly, watching her brother shake Dumbledore’s hand. She watched as Sirius embraced Regulus in a tight hug in the shadows. Y/n smiled bittersweetly at their embrace as Regulus took her hand back in his.

Sirius began to open his mouth, “No need to lie. I know he doesn’t care if I was here or not.”

Y/n shuffled on her feet, and Sirius took her into his arms. Sirius was shorter than Regulus, and he didn’t smell the same, but his hugs were just as comforting in a brotherly way. His hand caressed her hair, and Sirius couldn’t help the way his heart ached. He shouldn’t be the one hugging her, Remus should, but he isn’t. Sirius kissed her forehead and released her from his hug.

“I’ll write to you guys.”

“Don’t get into too much trouble.” Y/n replied with tear-filled eyes, “I can’t imagine you gone.”

Sirius smirked, “Yes, ma’am. Don’t you know I always obey the rules?”

“She’s being real, Sirius.” Regulus didn’t crack a smile, “This war isn’t a joke, and I’d- I’d like to see you next year when I graduate.”

“I’ll be there.” Sirius said solemnly, “I won’t leave you guys. They won’t take me alive.”

Y/n cracked a smile, “Good.”

Regulus nudged his girlfriend, and she wiped the tears from her cheeks, “Protect him. He gets reckless and forgets about himself. Don’t let him do anything stupid.”

Sirius could still hear Remus’ voice in their first Order meeting, “I swear on all Merlin if they touch her, they’ll be sorry.”

“‘Course. Don’t forget he’s still my boyfriend.” Sirius replied, and Y/n smiled, “‘S why I’m asking you and not James. Keep- Keep my brother safe, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They joined the Order of the Phoenix without looking back. Remus, James, Sirius, and Peter quickly became some of the best Aurors of the Ministry of Magic. Sirius had made the Daily Prophet multiple for putting Death Eaters in Azkaban. Many citizens of the Wizarding community thought of him as the next Alastor Moody.

Seventh year was the worst one yet. Most of the Slytherin Death Eaters were attacking the younger kids. Most of the older Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs had to defend them from the unforgivable curses. It seemed normal to hear the crucio curse being thrown away and seeing green flashes. It made Y/n sick to her stomach.

It got so surreal that Y/n and Regulus had begun sleeping behind tapestries or hidden tunnels. Dormitories and common rooms were no longer safe. Their backs ached, and body’s sore from lying on concrete, but it was better than dying. Graduation was not a celebration, and no one from outside was allowed in, but Sirius waited for them at Kings Cross.

The next time Y/n saw Remus was when she was being sworn into the Order, and he barely spared her a glance. Not long after the speech was being spoken, another person entered the meeting point. He was shockingly familiar with wavy black hair and blue-grey eyes. Remus jumped out of his seat, and James had to hold him back. Regulus released a breath and stood beside his girlfriend.

“Now. I’m sure there’s a lot of confusion.” Dumbledore began calmly, “Regulus has sworn to be our spy.”

Remus growled, “He’s a Death Eater.”

“Exactly.” Remus glared at the old Professor, “Therefore, he can enter and participate in their meetings. Then he can come back here and report what he knows.”

“I don’t like it any more than you do.” Regulus said, “I don’t want to put anyone in danger, but someone needs to do it.”

Remus went to speak, but Regulus cut him off, “Someone needs to protect your sister.”

Everyone stared in shock at the bold statement that came from the young Black brother's mouth, and Remus leaped from his seat, “She is a traitor. Just like you.”

Instinctively Regulus moved her behind him as Remus was now face to face with him, “She’s everything but. Wasn’t she the one who stopped Fenrir Greyback from killing you?”

“Shut up.”

“Wasn’t she the one who cleaned your wounds after the full moons before the Marauders?”

“I’m warning you.”

“Wasn’t she the one who used to make you hot chocolate when the nightmares got too bad that you couldn’t sleep?”

Remus snapped, and Sirius pulled him away from Regulus. But they all saw how Y/n cowered when he lunged forward, how she flinched back, covering her face with her hands. Regulus kept a tight hold on her hand, and they watched as Sirius calmed Remus down, bringing him upstairs. When Remus was gone, Dumbledore spoke again.

“Well, the first Order meeting will be announced in just a couple of days. It allows Y/n and Regulus to get in their positions.” Dumbledore announced, “It allows Y/n to get some training and Regulus to get Voldemort’s trust.”

Everyone dispersed. Y/n and Regulus apparated to a flat they had bought in London. It was relatively modern for the time and had everything they needed. The place was clean and brand new. When they landed in the living room, she went straight to the bedroom. Regulus prepared her a hot drink and set it at her bedside table with a warming charm. He laid beside her, placing her head on his heart.

“Je Vous Aime.” His french accent was so smooth and gentle, like a baby blanket, “Je t'aime aussi.”

Everything just got more stressful as time passed. Regulus’ job got more and more dangerous, making Y/n worry profusely. It got to times where they had to pretend to throw curses back and forth so he could prove that he was loyal to them. It wasn’t until a rumor of a spy for the Death Eaters came out that Regulus’ job became crucial. It took three more meetings, and on October 15th Regulus knew who it was.

He could remember the day vividly how Voldemort welcomed Peter Pettigrew to the Death Eaters with open arms. Regulus had stared in mock happiness but, in reality, had been shocked. Someone so close to the Potters had gone and betrayed him. So when Peter was absent from one meeting, Regulus brought it up.

“They spy is Pettigrew.”

“No.” James chuckled, “You’re lying, right?”

Regulus shook his head, “He plans to kill you, Lily, and Harry on Halloween.”

Everyone stiffened. The air was tense, but Dumbledore smiled victoriously, “Beautiful work, Regulus. We’ll apprehend Pettigrew when he’s seen again.”

They had set up a false meeting where Peter got sent to Azkaban only two days later after Regulus announced he was the traitor. That sparked the war between them, and this time, Regulus was on the right side, the side he always wanted to be on. A week later, and on Halloween, Voldemort was dead. Many people's lives were lost, but many were saved.

After the war, Remus had proposed to Sirius, and yet Y/n was still not invited to the wedding. Sirius had begged Remus to make amends with her. The war was over. This nonsense was not needed anymore. But Remus was stubborn, and Y/n was too afraid to approach him, so James gave her the invisibility cloak to watch her brother marry. Not the ideal way she planned on watching her brother and his love get married.

A couple of months later, Regulus and Y/n did the same. Except they did it alone, with Sirius being their only witness and the person marrying them. Sirius couldn’t help but feel awful for Remus not being able to walk her down the aisle, not to see her in the pretty dress she had picked out. It wasn’t until fifteen years later when Y/n had two teenage boys, and a little girl did someone came knocking on her door during the winter holidays.

Both boys were running around the house, and their little sister was trying to keep up. Two twin boys who were fifteen - Romeo and Romulus. A little girl who was just about ten named Ascella. Romulus was a carbon copy of Sirius. Romeo had the Lupin sandy hair and the Black family eyes with the Black family defined face. He was the best of both worlds. Ascella looked like a female Regulus.

Romeo was the Keeper of the Slytherin house for Quidditch. Romulus played Beater for Gryffindor, and little Ascella would get her Hogwarts letter in just about a year. Regulus and Y/n both predicted she’d be in Gryffindor with her brave, mischievous nature. Y/n was the one to get the door with her two boys behind her. Ascella had been called into the living room by her father.

Y/n was shocked to meet familiar green eyes, “Um- hi.”

“Hey.” Remus said nervously, scratching the back of his head, “I hope I’m not intruding.”

Both boys behind her looked confused, “Mum, who is this?”

A pang of hurt hit Remus, “This- This is my brother.”

“Brother?” Romulus questioned, “Like he’s our uncle?”

“Yes.” Y/n retorted, “Now you boys grab your sister. Go do something upstairs while we talk, yeah?”

Romeo looked crestfallen, “Mum, we aren’t five.”

“I know, but we have a lot of talking to do.”

Romeo sighed, “Fine but be safe.”

She kissed the tops of their heads, “Of course.”

Ascella was running to her brothers within seconds after Romulus called for her. Remus saw her black hair flutter around as she followed her brothers up the steps. Y/n smiled and motioned for Remus to come inside. The house was lovely and decorated for the holidays. Y/n walked through the hallway to the living room, and Remus followed.

“I apologize for the mess.” She chuckled, “Having the boys home makes the house messy.”

Remus saw the pictures on the wall, “A Slytherin and a Gryffindor.”

Y/n smiled, “Yep. Romeos the Slytherin, and Romulus is the Gryffindor. We have a feeling Ascella will be in Gryffindor too.”

He placed the picture back down and sighed, “Merlin, what did I miss?”

Regulus was still stiff and stern, “A lot if you couldn’t tell already. That’s what happens when you call your sister a traitor and decide to disown her.”

All three children were listening secretly and grimaced at their father's words, “But don’t worry. I’ve done your job. I’ve been there for her, protected her, and made sure she was happy.” Regulus snapped, “And Sirius did your job of being the children’s uncle.”

“He didn’t even tell me you guys had kids.” Remus muttered, “‘Course he didn’t. In case you don’t remember, you didn’t want anything to do with us.” Regulus retorted.

The children had never heard their father speak this way with so much ice in his words. Regulus was blunt and unapologetic, “We wanted you to be a part of our family, Remus, we really did. But we didn’t know how you’d feel.” Y/n informed.

“Plus, the last time you saw us, you tried to kill Regulus.” Ascella covered her ears, and Romeo ushered them to his room to stop listening, “Yeah, so forgive us for not inviting you to be a part of our family.”

Regulus punctuated his statement by putting his arm around Y/n’s waist, “I’m sorry.” Remus murmured.

“I’m really sorry for how I acted. It was immature and stupid of me.” He continued, “I didn’t know how to feel when I heard my sister was with a Death Eater at the time, and I was just scared.”

Y/n stood up and hugged him, “Remus. What you did isn’t going to be forgiven. I’m sorry.”

He had tears glazing in his emerald green eyes that dulled with age, “I know we were young, but that doesn’t excuse the words you said or how you acted. Trying to kill my husband and saying god awful things about me.”

Y/n took her seat beside Regulus, and Remus sniffled, “You did this. Not us.” Regulus reminded, and Remus nodded.

“Okay, I just- I’ll go.” Remus stood up from his seat and walked down the hallway to the front door; he took in every family portrait.

When he got to the door, Y/n opened it for him, and he walked out, “Remus.”

He turned, and Y/n hugged him one last time. His chin rested on top of her head, breathing in her shampoo that still hadn’t changed since third year. The same perfume from fourth year. Her arms fit around him just the same way as they had when they were little children running around the lake. Y/n kissed his cheek and released herself from his embrace.

“I may not be your sister.” Y/n repeated with tear-filled eyes, and Remus allowed the tears to fall; her two boys were standing beside her, “But you’ll always be my brother.”

The door had closed, and Remus decided that that was the end of his chapter. He had underlined, circled, highlighted, and folded every significant page, but this was the end of the chapter. He was flipping to the next page, where the new chapter began. The new chapter where he had to live without his sister or his niece and nephews.

Remus always loved fragile, cracked paperbacks.

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nextdoorharry · 3 years

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imaaaaagine a world like that..can you?

in which you and harry are exes, but still remain good friends when you’re always there for each other. both of you can’t help but reminisce…in your head.

a/n: super sorry i haven’t written in FOREVER!! been crazy busy with school (still am) and i will get back to the writing grind when i’m not as busy, with that being said this is just a quick thing i was thinking of. also, no hate to olivia and harry’s relationship at all. pr or not, both deserve respect and anything written in this piece is solely for writing purposes only. no hate will be tolerated toward an individual. we’re all human.

it happened when you were on your way home from dinner with your friends. a call from harry. this wasn’t out of the ordinary for harry to call you, being exes and all. you both apologized after the breakup and agreed that you both couldn’t let 5 years of love, being close with each other’s families, and a pet cat all go to waste. you agreed upon being friends with him. still hang out here and there after the breakup, acting all platonic. you can’t help but have a glimmer of hope its a call wanting to start a relationship again.

“hello?” you said, one hand on the wheel, other holding your phone.

“hi love, sorry s’a bit late, was wondering if i can come over. it’s about olivia.” harry says. still sending you butterflies when he said the simple yet warming term of endearment. but once he said olivia, your heart dropped.

she’s beautiful, confident, and makes your harry happy from what the tabloids portray. the last time you and harry spoke was before he went off to LA, filming for don’t worry darling, a movie his new lover produced. still a few texts since then like “happy birthday!” “congrats on the grammy,” or “how’s the cat?” you two always saved catching up for in person. it was just your thing you kept during the 5 year relationship and after. it keeps things more meaningful at the time, rather than texting or quick phone calls.

“ah, olivia. isn’t she my replacement?” you teased while laughing. you hear a burst of giggles from the other end of the line. god you missed hearing that everyday.

harry on the other end of the line, heart aches a bit hearing you say that. no one could ever replace you. ever. you are so special to him. if only it wasn’t for his team making it difficult for him to ease down on touring for a bit for you. you asked for one thing from harry, which was to start settling down. you both were only getting older and the talks of marriage and kids were frequently becoming the topic of discussion with family. a year and some after the breakup, which happened to be during quarantine, where he had so much time on his hands without you, he reflected on what could’ve been and how stupid he was for letting you go. you were always so patient with him. going to his shows, god awful dinner parties with industry people, changing your work schedule just to fit into his. you asked for one thing. and instead of fighting for you with his team, he instead sided with them, and let you go.

teasing not dying down, harry goes, “someone keeps up with me in the tabloids, eh?”

it’s the fact that he’s not wrong. you remember that tabloid very well. when the first pictures of harry and olivia came out in an article titled, “harry styles and olivia wilde new romance? is y/n replaced?”

your heart was hurting.

“of course i am. keep having to make sure my name is finally out their mouths.” you joke. “i’ll be home in about 15 minutes if that’s okay?”

you pull into the driveway already seeing harry sitting on your porch chair. he waves at you and you get out of the car, walking up to him. he stands up and greets you with a bear hug.

“missed you, y’look nice. where’d ya head out to?” he asked, hoping and praying you weren’t out on a date looking like that. he knows you only wear a red lip when its date night. his mind filled with jealousy at the thought of you with someone else. whereas he has no right being there are pictures of him kissing, cuddling, and whispering to olivia on a yacht in italy. all for the cameras. his stomach turns. that was supposed to be you and him. on a yacht on italy. except leaving the display of affection for the bedroom.

“on a date” you say blatantly.

his heart drops. and lets you go from the hug. lying through his teeth he says, “ah really? happy for ya, you have to tell me about it, hope it was with a good bloke.” he says lightly.

“i’m kiddingg, was out for dinner with friends. mel got engaged by the way! was celebratory dinner for her.” you say, unlocking the door, letting harry in.

harry sighs in relief. “that’s good! m’happy for her, pass on my congratulations.” harry follows you into your kitchen, sitting down on the counter stool, watching you making his favorite “calm down” drink, loving that you remembered how he likes it. he didn’t even have to ask you to make it. you just know its what he needs right now. he can’t help but ponder that it should have been you. it should be your friends out for your celebratory dinner for your engagement with him.

you pass him his tea, knowing he’ll only take a few sips of it yet keep it in his hold for warmth. you were on the other side of the counter across from him, making a mini cheeseboard you two can snack on while talking.

“so..what happened?” you ask, heart not ready if you can handle what he’s about to say about his new lover.

“s’just so complicated. originally it was supposed to be a pr stunt for the movie. but now i don’t know how the pr team messed up so badly but they did. no one is really believing it. everything was executed poorly. it sucks because it’s her team conducting everything which means i barely have a say in it. i look like the bad guy being portrayed as a home wrecker, and she’s not doing anything about it! s’like she’s enjoying it. the kissing, the night outs, etc. she knows that if my team did have a say, it would have been over a while ago.” he breathes out. he’s been wanting to rant to someone for so long about this. he also just wants you to know that he’s not into her. it’s all for show. he’s still all about you. he wants to make that crystal clear.

you nod your head listening to everything he’s saying. body feeling uneasy filled with jealousy when harry says she’s enjoying the intimacy they have to do for show.

“well, did you talk to her about it? or talk to jeff at least? there has to be something he can do..?” you ask.

harry sighs, “i’ve tried so hard. jeff said nothing they can do about it. and he’s telling me not to mess with olivia because her team can do more damage than good with my name. not that s’already ruined.” harry rubs his face with his hands, feeling stressed.

the way he’s acting is familiar to you. early on in your relationship, when you two were a freshly new couple, you guys wanted to be completely private. during that time, with harry and the band’s album coming out, his management made him do pr stunts like these. he was as stressed as he is now. you were so new to dating something in an industry. he didn’t want to scare you away. but you understood. you get it. and you still get it as he’s speaking.

“hmm..if i can recall, back when you had to do a stunt with kendall on the yacht, m’pretty sure it was the same situation. with kendall’s team being difficult, your’s not having much of a say. do what i told you back then, stand your ground, harry. tell olivia like you did with kendall. also kendall’s team at the time played dirty, yet they still were understanding with you and got someone new for a stunt. olivia’s team will probably get someone new as well. and how badly can they ruin your rep? everyone knows you’re the nicest person who wouldn’t kill a fly. and tabloids are tabloids. would you rather have a few bad headlines about you or would you rather deal with a stunt for what? another year now? that you feel uncomfortable with?” you state. smiling a bit because you know harry knows your right, he’s smiling a bit too. he knows you love being right and debating, pulling out facts. that’s what you always did during an argument. which is why you were always right.

man. why couldn’t he stand his ground with his team. why didn’t he take your advice back then? he should’ve sided with you. not his team. why is he always so scared of them?

self-loathing, harry breathes out a laugh, “always have to be right don’t ya? you know what to say every damn time,”

“what can i say? the lady is always right.” you say, smiling proudly while cleaning up the remains of the cheeseboard you and harry snacked on.

“thanks y/n, really, i know i can always come to you with this stuff,” harry states. looking at you with his piercing eyes, meaning every word he said.

you smiled and nodded, cleaning the kitchen a bit. it started to pour early on when you guys were having a chat about his situation, hoping silently it would come down faster so harry has an excuse to stay, you offer nonetheless. “why don’t you stay back for a bit, hm? s’pouring out there, only gonna get worse. we can watch something?”

“love island?” harry suggests.

“thought you’d never ask.”

few gasps and scoffs at some of the islanders and their drama later, you slowly were drifted off to sleep. harry, sitting on the other sofa from you, peaks to see if you’re still watching. his face was in awe. he misses this. domestic nights with you, chatting away eating in the kitchen, then watching something afterwards. only difference is that you two are on different sofas. whereas before you’d be coddled under his embrace. he slowly drifts off to sleep as well. rain still going on, technically he can still go home. driving in the rain was never an issue for him. but he’ll always use an excuse just to be with you.

iMessage: Olivia Wilde

1:34 AM - I miss you, and our casual hookups. Can’t stop thinking about it.

that was one part harry left out of the story. he hooked up with her.

ahhhhh!!!! lmk if you guys want a part 2!!!

#harry styles #harry #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry talk #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry concept #harry styles fic

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sanhaswife · 3 years

Text

⚝ ᴏᴜʀ ᴇʟᴇᴄᴛʀɪᴄ, ᴅʏɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴠᴇ

⚝ ᴅᴇɴᴋɪ ᴋᴀᴍɪɴᴀʀɪ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

- ғʟᴜғғ + ᴀɴɢsᴛ

~ It all started when an old classmate comes back to town. In a flash, your world comes crumbling down, when you noticed that something had changed. More specifically, that a certain someone changed. He stopped holding your hand, stopped giving you kisses before heading out...stopped saying those 3 words you were so desperate to hear. All for what? What went so wrong when everything was going so right?

WC: 7.7k

It was the middle of the first semester when you transferred to UA. Your family had just moved from the next town over, due to work. At first, it was hard to find the courage to speak up and find some friends. Everyone just looked so...intimidating, especially the students in class 1-A. You got the chills whenever they walked by; it was scary to think that there was such a huge gap in abilities despite being the same age. Your quirk couldn’t even compare; the most you could do was emit little orbs of light from your hands. It was helpful in the dark, but you never bothered to really enhance it due to the embarrassment of having such a useless quirk. Honestly, it was a miracle that you were accepted by the school; maybe luck was on your side for once.

One day, class was finally over, and as you prepared to go home, it suddenly started to downpour. You didn’t have an umbrella on hand, so you headed to the lost and found located at the entrance of the school to find a spare. “None...just as I thought.” Grumbling, you sat down at the steps of the school’s doors to watch the rainfall. You couldn’t call your parents because they were busy with work, and you couldn’t ask a friend for an umbrella because, well...you were too much of a coward to even walk up to anyone. Sighing, you decided to wait for the rain to stop at the steps. Other students passed by laughing along with their friends, some sharing an umbrella while they walked home.

Must be nice...you thought. Moving to a new school was always tricky, especially in the middle of a semester. Everyone already moved passed from the introductions and formed their own little groups amongst themselves. There was no space for an outsider like you. The thought of spending the rest of the semester alone made you hug your knees, and with one last sigh, you laid your forehead against your arms.

Just as more and more depressing thoughts were burning into your mind, someone tapped on your shoulder. Freezing, you slowly looked up, your eyes meeting soft gold ones. “Hey! Are you okay?” His voice, you swore- was as sweet as honey, and his smile was oh so charming. You recognized him as Denki Kaminari...one of the boys from the class next door. “Lightni-” You suddenly coughed, stopping yourself from blurting out the stupid nickname your classmates had for him. Lightning Bolt...Am I stupid? How could I just say that when-

“Woah, that was some cough. Are you okay?” He asked again. You nodded; you didn’t want to embarrass yourself any further, so you stood up, wiping the back of your skirt free from dirt before facing him. “O-oh yeah! I’m just...waiting.” You didn’t continue since you were now facing one of the cutest boys you had ever seen in your life. He cocked his head to the side with a small laugh. “Waiting...for what?” The hot feeling of embarrassment rose up to your cheeks. Trying again, you stuttered while looking down at your shoes. “For the rain to s-stop. I don’t have an umbrella, and there’s no more in the lost and found box.”

God, if you’re really out there, just kill me now. You were mentally beating yourself over the fact that you couldn’t properly speak to a single boy. Thinking about how dumb you must’ve looked standing there, you suddenly felt gentle fingers pushing away your hair to reveal your face. You were once again faced with Denki’s bright smile. “Is this hide and seek? Why are you hiding from me?” You couldn’t help but giggle; he was too cute. Standing up straight, you pushed back your hair and properly faced him. “I’m Y/N, I’m new.” Finally, with a little bit of courage, you were able to properly face someone and stuck out your hand. With a chuckle, Denki took your hand and shook it gently. “Haha, it’s like we’re businessmen or something. I’m Denki! Denki Kaminari!” His laugh was contagious, and soon you both were laughing, standing like a pair of fools at the school’s entrance. Still holding your hand, he lifted up his other one showing off an umbrella. “Shall I walk you home?”

You blinked in surprise. This was your first meeting with Denki yet...he was there holding your hand and offering to walk you home. It was weird, but it felt good. Really good to have such a cute and goofy guy showing you so much attention.

The rest of the day consisted of you and Denki getting to know each other still holding hands. Eventually, you both were so comfortable talking with each other it started to feel like you’ve been friends for years. By the time he dropped you off at your door, you both had exchanged numbers and promised to walk to school together in the morning. Surprisingly enough, turns out you were neighbors. The next day, you opened the front door to find Denki waiting for you.

On the way to school, you shared with him that it was difficult to speak up and make friends, so he decided to help you out by introducing you to some of the girls in his class before the bell rang. For once, you felt like you fit in; finally, you were able to make some friends, and they were actually interested in getting to know you. Even though you may be in a different class, some of the girls like Momo, Mina, and Uraraka offered to show you around town after school. It felt good and seeing Denki eager to introduce you to the rest of his class made you happier. Afterschool was a dream come true too. The girls of 1-A invited you to hang out with them and some of the boys, including Denki. Everyone decided to go watch a comedy movie after showing you around and you ended up sitting next to Denki.

Throughout the movie, he silently passed you little handfuls of candy and popcorn, even going as far as to offer you sips of his soda. Technically, it had only been a day since you started talking. Still, all of the attention he kept giving you was indescribable, and you weren’t able to get rid of the big smile on your face. It didn’t help that after the movie, when everyone started going their separate ways, Denki once again offered to walk you home. “You know you don’t have to ask, right? We’re neighbors; we have to walk together anyways.” He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck while looking down at his shoes. “I just like asking, that’s all.” His response only made you smile like a kid.

When you reached your front door, you were about to say goodbye when Denki grabbed your hand with an anxious expression on his face. “Y/N?” You squeezed his hand in reassurance and cocked your head to the side. “Yes, Denki?” His cheeks started to glow a soft pink when he looked up at you. “Today was really fun, and yesterday was really amazing. I think...I t-think I like you.” He shook his head fast, “No! No, no, no, I like you! You’re so cool and funny, and like...really pretty. I'm sorry I never really talked to you before any of this, but in a not-so-creepy kind of way, I've seen you around. Or more like, I've been watching you? Call it love at first sight, but-” Denki was rambling, and your heart was pounding in your ears. You stood there with a big smile and looked down at your linked hands. “And?” His free hand reached out, and he gently tilted your chin up with his finger to meet his eyes. “And...do you want to go out with me?”

PRESENT DAY:

It’s been six years since then. Of course, you said yes and started dating; he broke the news to everyone the next day, and life had been great. You’ve both graduated and were now engaged, sharing a small apartment together. Your relationship with Denki was like a dream. Every day was fun, and his childish, goofy personality made everything as bright as his smile. Thanks to him, you were able to get out of your shell, surpass your insecurities, and were doing relatively pretty well. While you did work at home, your business career was at its peak and your overall health mentally and physically was great.

At the moment, you were both getting ready to go out. The class of 1-A decided to hold a small reunion at a restaurant downtown. As Denki’s fiance, he insisted you come with him. He was bubbling with excitement to tell everyone about all of your marriage plans, like which dress would be prettier or which venue would be the best for the wedding. It had only been about two months since you’ve officially been engaged, but you had asked Denki to wait before telling anyone, to wait for the right moment to announce it to everyone. After graduation, you still stayed in contact with some of the girls from school like Momo and Mina since they decided to stay in the same town, but you found it hard to contact people who had moved away.

“Are you ready?” Denki’s arms wrapped themselves around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. You were standing in front of the full-length mirror in the room, not noticing that you stopped finishing up your makeup. Smiling, you quickly applied some last-minute touches and reached behind you to pat Denki’s head. “Okay, let’s go, or else we’re going to be late.”

LATER:

Finally, at the restaurant, you were both led to a private section in the back. Opening the doors, you were faced with everyone from class 1-A, everyone but one person. You and Denki sat in the back next to each other with an empty space on his left at the end of the table, plates of food warm and ready to be eaten. Next to you was Mina, and in front of you sat Momo, Uraraka, and Tsuyu. The room was filled with laughter, loud bickering from the boys, and multiple different conversations being held at once. You were having a conversation with Mina when Denki tapped your shoulder. “Hey, isn’t someone missin-”

“Jirou’s here!” Cheering erupted from the table as Jirou stepped in. She looked flawless, she let her hair grow out, and her outfit looked like something of a biker’s which her spikey leather jacket decorated with cute pins, a white crop top, and black ripped jeans with a pair of black boots. Everyone welcomed Jirou and complimented her appearance before ushering her to take a seat next to Denki. At first, you were envious of Jirou; she looked so...grown and pretty. Like incredibly pretty, in a badass biker chick kind of way. And you were about to compliment her when Denki suddenly covered you, hovering over the tale to tangle his fingers between Jirou’s long silky hair. “You grew it out? It’s so pretty J, you look really pretty with your hair like this.” You admit it, Denki was a bit too touchy when it came to his friends, but you never had a problem with it before, so why were you feeling jealous? Jealous of a classmate?

Sure, you and Denki ended up never being in the same class throughout high school, and while you knew the other girls saw him most of the day, you were never jealous. Even when he was touchy with Mina or Momo or Uraraka, you were never envious. So why were you now? You sat there awkwardly as you watched the two engage in a conversation. Whenever she laughed loudly, you couldn’t help but peek over to see them. It was like a gross bubbly tar was flowing its way up to your spine and washed over you. But as it was going to reach its peak, ready to burst, the feeling died down when you remembered Denki’s plan to announce your engagement. With a smile, you patted your boyfriend’s shoulder to get his attention, but he didn’t turn your way. Being too engaged in his conversation with Jirou, he didn’t notice your touch, so you tapped his shoulder again a couple of times. “Yeah, I know! It’s so cool-” He jerked his head quickly at you, “What’s up? I’m in the middle of a-” He whipped his head back to Jirou to continue their conversation before going back to you with a chuckle. “Yeah?”

With a frown, you looked over his shoulder at Jirou, smiling before looking at Denki; you pointed to the engagement ring on your finger, not saying anything. He blinked a few times before leaning over to kiss your nose. “Just a few more minutes, okay?” He turned his attention back to Jirou, leaving you dumbfounded. The one thing he was so excited to share with everyone is now pointless to him. With a sad sigh, you turned to your side to face Mina, who grabbed your hand with a wide smile. “Aww, why the long face Y/N?” She pinched your cheek, which made you smile a bit, but you cocked your head for her to look behind you. Looking over, she saw Denki and Jirou laughing amongst themselves in their own little world before looking back at you with a sad smile. “You know they were like besties back in high school.”

“I know, Mina trust me, I know. I just..maybe I’m just a little jealous.” You felt ashamed saying it out loud, but Mina shook her head. “I know, girl, I bet you are. After all, those two were like inseparable; I mean, you already know about all the rumors that were going around about them.” You felt your heart grow heavy when you remembered; when you and Denki started dating, you confided in the girls about your relationship, happy to share the news with them. They were ecstatic for you, and as good friends, told you some things about Denki so you could get to know him better. At some point, one of them accidentally brought up the rumors of Jirou and her relationship with Denki. While it did cause some awkward tension between the two of you, it didn’t last long as she was an incredible person to talk to. She always shared cool stories about her life and gave the best advice when it came down to serious issues.

Two hours had passed, and Denki was still stuck talking with Jirou. At that point, you had grown quiet and tired of waiting, so you decided to take it upon yourself to break the news to everyone. Standing up, you clapped your hands together to get everyone’s attention. “Everyone! I have important news to share with you all.” With a big smile on your face, you looked around at everyone’s faces but ignored Jirou. You reached down and grabbed Denki’s arm, tugging him to stand. Raising your hand, you pointed to the engagement ring on your finger and linked your arms with Denki while happily shouting, “We’re engaged!” There was a short pause amongst everyone before they all erupted in cheers. Everyone was standing now, and the girls crowding you to admire the ring while the boys congratulated a surprised Denki. Of course, one person in the crowd was just as surprised as Denki.

After the reunion, everyone was outside hugging each other and saying their goodbyes. You were hugging Momo and Tsuyu goodbye when you pulled away to look around for Denki. “Well, I hope you guys get home safe; I’m going to find Denki and get going too.” With a smile, the girls went off home, leaving you to find your fiance, and you did. He was at the restaurant's entrance with Jirou; she had her back against the wall with Denki next to her, leaning over her shoulder as the two laughed at something on her phone. Walking up to them, you forced a smile on your face and rubbed your arms. “Hey, honey, everyone’s gone off home. It’s time for us to go too. Also, can you pass me your jacket? It’s kinda cold out.” Denki slowly looked up at you and then looked behind you. “Damn, I forgot to say bye to everyone! If I text them, it should be fine, right?” You were about to answer him back when Jirou interrupted you. “Hah! Like Bakugo or Todoroki would answer you back.”

You sighed, annoyed, and tried again with Denki about the jacket. “Denki? Can I have your jacket?” He pulled away from Jirou and stood there rubbing the back of his neck with an awkward expression on his face. “Oh...sorry, I let Jirou borrow my jacket because hers was too thin and it’s cold.” Blinking, you turned to Jirou and saw the oversized jacket she now wore; she quickly started to take it off when you stopped her. “Keep it. Denki, let’s go home.” The feeling of anger burned throughout your body as you grabbed Denki’s wrist and pulled him away, dragging him straight to the car before hurrying into the passenger seat. He quietly sat down in the driver’s seat and turned the car on before deciding to speak up. “Are you...mad at me for something?” You loved Denki; you honestly did. But sometimes, he really was an airhead when it came to things other than math. “Can we just go home? Please?” The whole ride home was silent, and you spent it looking out the window.

At home, you were still angry, so without a word, you immediately went to the bedroom and gathered your things to take a shower. Denki walked in behind you and quietly sat down on the foot of the bed, watching you. "Y/N." He called, but you ignored him, grabbing your pajamas from the dresser. "Y/N." He called again, this time with a long sigh; you turned your body to face him and cocked a brow. "What?"

"Geez baby, if looks could kill- what's wrong? Is it because of the jacket?" Denki's words made your blood boil, you were ignored and were forced to make the announcement on your own, and he still couldn't figure out what was wrong? "Are you too much of an airhead to realize what you did to me back there?" Your words made Denki flinch in shock; he stood up with his arms crossed. "What? Honey, are you..." All of a sudden, he starts smirking. "Jealous?"

Your cheeks felt warm, and you looked away, quickly gathering your things up in your arms before making your way to the bathroom, only to get stopped by Denki blocking your way. He was so close you could feel the heat radiating off of his large body. Towering over you, he slowly cupped your cheek and used his other to bring you closer to him, wrapping it around your waist. Bodies now touching, he raised your face up, which only made you frown. "I'm not jealous. Denki, you totally forgot about the announcement, and you ignored me." Your own words made you cringe when you said it out loud, but your boyfriend smiled at them. Leaning down, he pecked your nose and grabbed your wrist. Leading you to the bathroom, he closed the door behind you two and stripped off his shirt. "What are you doing, Denki?"

"Saving water!"

After a long and rather talkative shower with Denki, you both got ready for bed and slipped in. You both cuddled together after the long draining conversation, and for an apology, he did his best to make it up to you passionately by smothering you in kisses and hugs. Resting your head on Denki's clothed chest, he wrapped his arm around you and used his free hand to turn off the lights. Giving him one last hug, you fell asleep in Denki's arm that night.

TWO WEEKS LATER:

Despite making up that day, your relationship with Denki was slowly becoming more and more awkward. Some days, he didn't bother saying goodbye before leaving or bothered to wait for you so you could at least have breakfast together. It was weird; the apartment you shared slowly started to feel empty. So far, while you two were able to talk normally, it seemed like he was avoiding any kind of skinship with you. Always moving away too fast, telling you "not right now," or just completely walking away, he stopped doing a lot of things you now missed dearly.

Not only was he avoiding your touch, but he was also avoiding the apartment. Along with avoiding you at home, he was barely there Denki started more of his time outside of the apartment because of "plans." A gross, ugly feeling was rooted in your stomach whenever you worried about what he was doing, where he was, or who he was with.

One night, you finally decided to take the opportunity of Denki being in the shower after a long day to snoop around. You were in the middle of cooking when you heard the shower start; after waiting for a few minutes, you stopped what you were doing and entered the bedroom. Denki was in the bathroom, and he had left his phone on the bed along with his coat. Searching his jacket first, you explored the pockets for anything and found some receipts from restaurants and bakeries that were popular in town. With a frown, you shoved the receipts back into his pockets and moved onto his phone. Luckily, Denki was too lazy to bother with a password. Hence, you were able to easily access his text messages and call log. Checking his call log first, your heart dropped when Jirou's name showed. Scrolling down, you saw that for the past few days since the day of the restaurant incident, they had been calling each other back and forth multiple times every single day. You rushed to the text messages, filled with rage, concern, and jealousy; you searched his messages with Jirou.

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

You: That was fun! We should go back to try their new cake and maybe try that new coffee special they have?

J: That special is for couples, though, but I like your thinking.

You: Exactly! For couples!

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

J: Have you talked to her? Does she suspect anything?

You: Wdym? No, everything is fine over here, and she hasn't said anything. I mean, I'm avoiding her for a reason, you know?

J: Haha, I guess you're right. If she ever finds out, she's going to be so surprised ;)

You: Right! So let's continue the secret, and I'll meet you after she falls asleep.

J: Okay! See you at my place then.

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

A million thoughts were racing around in your head as you slowly put the phone back where it was and headed back to the kitchen. You felt numb, sick to your stomach. The text messages were flashing in your head, unable to get away from it. You stood in the middle of the kitchen, looking down at the stove with tears in your eyes. You didn't want to think anything of the text messages, but it clearly suggested something you didn't want to come to terms with.

Was Denki cheating on you with Jirou?

You knew about their history thanks to the girls. Before you transferred, Denki and Jirou were closer than best friends, he had asked her out only to be rejected. They stopped talking for a while, but when he met you and helped introduce you to everyone, it allowed them to start talking again. He always reassured you around that time that he was entirely over Jirou and that they agreed to stay friends, but what if...Jirou's feelings had changed? What if Denki's feelings have changed?

Jirou moved away after graduation and grew out her hair, and started a cool band. When she got to the reunion, Denki was all over her like a puppy; the thought of it made tears fall down your cheeks. Maybe he fell back in love with her? Perhaps she had grown too mature and pretty that he wanted to be with her instead now?

Maybe that's why there are so many receipts, you thought while wiping your tears away. Sighing, you continued cooking, and it was not too long after when Denki got out of the bathroom and walked into the kitchen with a loose shirt and random shorts. He leaned over your shoulder with a hum and walked away to the fridge. "At work, they gave me a last-minute assignment to finish up, so I think after this, I'm going to head out."

"Head out? You just finished your shower," You complained as you turned off the stove. He looked at you with a shrug and grabbed a plate from the cabinet, "Work is work honey, I'm just going to eat real quick and head out, okay?" His tone seemed cold as he moved around you and filled his plate with food before going to eat at the table. You lost your appetite just watching him. Everything was fine before Jirou showed up; everything was perfect before she showed up.

Why? Why? Why? Why?

Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, you walked around the kitchen counter towards Denki, who was finishing up eating, and reached to lay a hand on his arm. "Denki, I think-" but before you could touch him, he snapped his arm back and gave you the weirdest look. "What? What are you doing?"

Your heart shattered seeing your fiance's face; now even your touch was disgusting to him? You opened your mouth to speak, but Denki stood from his seat to place his plate in the sink. He said nothing as he left the kitchen, going into the bedroom; you could hear the rustle of clothes and then watched as he gave you a little wave before heading out. The sound of the front door closing behind him was enough to have you collapse where you once stood. Your chest felt tight like someone was squeezing your heart. Grief was all you felt in that moment, but soon that grief turned into anger.

You were still engaged to Denki; you both still had a wedding to plan, a wedding that was only a few months away. A wedding that Jirou was trying to ruin. You couldn't help but blame Jirou the most in this situation; everything changed when she came back, so she was clearly the root of the problem. Wiping away the tears that had fallen down your cheeks, you slowly got up and dusted yourself off; heading to the bedroom, you looked around. Denki's clothes were thrown onto the floor and bed. Clearly, he had been in a rush to leave tonight. Quietly, you cleaned everything up and took a long hot shower to clear your mind. Obviously, it was not like you could've just followed Denki in hopes of catching him with Jirou. Still, despite rational thinking, you couldn't help but let the loneliness eat away at you.

That night, despite the heavy quilt that laid on top of you, everything felt cold. Numb is what you felt as you laid there staring at the ceiling. Old memories of fun and happy dates and moments between you and Denki flashed in your mind, but each one made you even more depressed than you already were. You don't know how much time had passed laying there when you heard the front door unlock. Rolling to your side in a flash, you quickly reached out for your phone, looking at the time it read 3:47. Frowning, you put your phone quietly back where it was on the nightstand and curled up, pretending you were asleep while Denki was on the other side of the bedroom door.

After a while, the door opened, and you could hear Denki quietly walking around the room. You could hear him changing into pajamas before the quilt on top of you was slowly lifted. Denki slipped into bed, but his back faced yours, and he stayed far from you; despite being in the same bed, you couldn't feel the heat of his body at all. It was sad to think that he used to fall asleep every night in your arms or you in his.

A FEW MONTHS LATER:

The situation with Denki worsened as the months went on. However, at least he was still active in the wedding planning, to your surprise. He was still out and about, most likely with Jirou, and still avoided you at all costs. But despite all the "evidence" you found, you couldn't help but keep quiet, for the most part at least. Nowadays, you and Denki fought over the littlest things. Once, you even brought up whether or not he still had feelings for a certain someone, which only led him to disappear for a few days before you begged him to come back. Still, even then, his attitude and wariness of you didn't change.

Now the wedding was officially two weeks away. Honestly, you often found yourself wondering why you still bothered to go through with everything. Planning every detail in regards to the wedding, handling everything with your dress, and more. Maybe a tiny part of you was hoping that Denki was just nervous about it all, the wedding, the commitment. Perhaps the wedding is something Denki needs to help him realize that you were still by his side, still waiting for him. While it did sound like a silly little fantasy in your head, you were still there, picking out flower arrangements with Denki and discussing the seating chart.

"I want Bakugo and Kirishima at table #1, oh and Sero too. Who else should we put there?" Denki asked while looking down at the huge seating chart laying in front of you two on the table. Despite his monotone voice, you tried your best to seem happy. Humming, you moved tiny slips of paper with people's names on it to table 1. "I want Mina, Momo, and...Uraraka." Looking down at the table, you saw that there was still one more seat left; lifting the slip of paper with Deku's name on it, you were about to move it when Denki beat you to it. "I want Jirou at table 1."

You froze on the spot; just seeing and hearing her name was enough to make your skin crawl. "I think we can both agree that Deku should be sitting there instead-"

"I said I want Jirou in that seat Y/N. I think she should be at table 1." You didn't bother looking at Denki's face to know he was mad that you dared to object. Not like he would care about what I had to say anyway, you thought. Gulping, you slowly set down the piece of paper in your hands and turned your head towards Denki, "Honey, please, if you could just listen to me-"

He threw his hands up in annoyance and scoffed. Shaking his head, he crossed his arms and gave you a blank look. "What's with all this hatred towards her? I thought you guys were good friends!" His words were making you feel guilty; maybe you were taking it a little bit too far? Over these past months, you knew every conversation with Jirou's name mentioned resulted in Denki trying to guilt-trip you. Still, you couldn't help but doubt yourself. Were you just simply jealous, and nothing was going on? You still had your suspicions, but you started to feel unsure more and more lately.

"Nevermind, Denki, let's just finish this up. This is the last time we're changing it, right?" You were too tired to argue with him any further. Just wanting it to be over you let Denki finish up the planning before sending it in for the planners to take charge. After that, the apartment you two shared stayed quiet; the only thing making noise was Denki's laughter from the bedroom and the TV playing in front of you. You stayed in the living room curled up in your favorite blanket, cringing every time you heard Denki laugh on the phone with her.

DAY BEFORE THE WEDDING:

Your nerves were getting the best of you as you stood at the entrance of the fancy dining hall you planned to use for the wedding. It was time for the rehearsal dinner, and your hands were shaking. Two weeks flew by like nothing, and now it was time for the practice test of the biggest moment of your life. You were standing, waiting for your cue to go up to the main table set up in the front. Looking around at the family and friends that filled the tables around the dining hall, you couldn't help but watch their faces light up in joy.

It was nerve-wracking, knowing that people were having high expectations of your's and Denki's wedding. Speaking of Denki, Where is he? you thought to yourself. Nervously grabbing your phone from your pocket, you called Denki for the nineteenth time, leading straight to voicemail. Earlier in the afternoon, you both arrived together at the wedding venue and went your own ways to greet friends and family but heard no word from him for the past two hours. Kirishima and Sero helped you look around the venue and call Denki, but with no luck, he had just vanished. Your stomach dropped when Sero came up next to you with a long sigh. "Y/N, I don't know where he is. I don't know what's wrong with him, and Jirou isn't here either."

His words had tears gathering in your eyes. Noticing, he handed you a napkin and intertwined your arms. "Sorry.." Shaking your head, you calmed yourself down and dabbed at your eyes before following Sero's lead to the main table. In the middle were two empty seats with seats of your parents and Denki's parents on both sides of them. "Where's the groom?" The planner asked with a confused expression. Unable to speak due to your nervousness, you were only able to shake your head before rubbing your shakey hands together. "I don't know. I really don't know."

Sero cut in with a worried tone, "We couldn't find him anywhere. Did you just want me to be a stand-in for the rehearsal?" The planner nodded in a panic, and with Sero as the stand-in for Denki, afterward, the rehearsal dinner continued on time as planned, many friends and family came up to you in worry. Many asked about the missing groom and what had happened, but again you were unable to answer. Depending on your friends to take over the situation, you quietly asked one of them to take you home.

The second you arrived at your front door, ready to unlock it, you couldn't help but pause. Denki skipped on his own rehearsal dinner, the rehearsal dinner for his own wedding. The fact was burning in your mind that he skipped and that someone else was probably skipping with him. It made your heart sink just by opening the door. Tears already flowing down your cheeks, you entered your home and locked the door behind you; turning back around, you started making your way to the bedroom when you stopped dead in your tracks.

On the living room, the sofa laid a sleeping Jirou who was covered with your favorite blanket. It was like your world was spinning, and all you could hear was a faint ringing in your ears. You don't know how long you were standing there when a figure suddenly came up in front of you, blocking your view. Denki...

You could say that all the anger, sadness, and loneliness building up inside of you finally burst because, in one second, you were frozen in place. In the next, you were grabbing whatever you could to throw at Denki. "You bastard! You! You! You! It was our rehearsal dinner! And you skipped?" You were blinded by your tears as you grabbed the small vase on your left and tossed it as hard as you could.

"What are you doing?!" You heard Denki yell at you to stop, but you couldn't; your body wouldn't listen to you. You just kept grabbing whatever you could get your hands on and tossed it as hard as you could. Glass shattered all around you, some in the entrance, in the kitchen, and the living room. At some point, you heard Jirou yelling at you to stop too, but it only fueled your rage. "You! You're the reason he doesn't love me anymore! You couldn't stay away? Tomorrow was supposed to be my day! My special day, and you're ruining it. You've ruined everything!" Finally, your knees gave out, and you collapsed to the floor with your face in your hands. Uncontrollable sobs ripped through your body as muffled voices surround you. "Why? Why Jirou, why? What did I do?"

Your body shook like crazy, and your hands didn't move from your face. Your emotions were just running wild at this point, all the built-up anger and sadness running free. "What did I do when you were the one who rejected him? Why did you steal him?"

The last thing you remember from that moment before passing out was panicked shouting and hands struggling to lift you up.

THE DAY OF THE WEDDING:

"Y/N? Are you awake?" Groggily, you opened your eyes to see your friends surrounding you. Momo, Tsuyu, Mina, Uraraka, Sero, and Deku stood on every side of you, happy that you finally opened your eyes. "Thought you were a goner there! Welcome back, kiddo." Mina had a goofy smile on her face and was about to crack some jokes before Sero nudged her arm with his elbow. "They're not here; if you're wondering, Denki is with the other guys preparing."

“What are you guys all doing here?” you asked and with the help of Momo and Deku, you sat up in your bed and quietly looked around. Everyone was watching you like you were about to collapse at any second. Memories of what had taken place last night rushed back, causing you to burst out crying. "Preparing for what? He doesn't love me! He loves her, and I know it, I'm not getting married today." The girls rushed to your side, comforting you the best they could while the boys quietly stood back.

After you were able to calm down, Sero explained that Denki had called them over to take care of you. While Jirou went with Denki to another location, it was as if Denki was scared. Scared of what exactly? Nobody knows, only that Sero heard from Denki himself that he couldn’t be in the same house as you at the moment. All you knew was that you no longer wanted to put on the dress you dreamed so long about, no longer wanted to say your vows to the one person you once trusted. But, with a lot of convincing and the help of your friends, you found yourself getting your hair and makeup done, your dress hanging in the closet, ready to be worn.

You felt like a doll sitting in the chair in front of the vanity; who were you getting so pretty for? There was bound to be no groom at that wedding, so what was the point of going through with it? Still, your friends did bring up enough good points to convince a small part of you to show up. To see if he would even show up.

LATER:

Finally, it was time for the wedding. Taking place in a beautiful, white church, you found yourself standing in front of closed doors with your father on your left and Sero on your right. Despite being Denki's best friend, Sero was at your beck and call, helping you whenever you needed, and you were extremely grateful. "They're going to open those doors any minute now, Y/N; I just want you to know that you need to do whatever you feel is best for you, okay? Do not force yourself." His stern tone had you nodding, which made him smile. "Good luck out there." With one last hug from Sero, he went on his way to join the rest of the people waiting inside.

You looked at your dad and then back at the church doors with shaky hands. Would Denki be waiting? Would he even be there? You didn't have enough time to wonder any longer due to the doors slowly opening. Getting in position, you watched as the church doors opened, revealing the aisle and everyone seated in the rows with happy faces. Gulping, your father began to walk you down the aisle. Thank god the veil was over your face; you looked at everyone who was whispering little congratulations and eventually stopped alongside your dad. Looking up, your heart swelled.

Denki was dressed in a classical tuxedo, his hair pushed back, a nervous expression on his face. In awe, you didn't notice your dad quietly handing your hand to Denki, which he nervously took. Taking your place on the stage with your hand in Denki's, you couldn't help but stare at him. Despite all the pain you've endured the past few months, he was still the same boy you fell in love with in high school.

The pastor began his sayings, and you tried your best to focus on his words and not the heat radiating from Denki's hand. Finally, the moment that you've waited for came. The pastor looked at both you and Denki before looking at the crowd. "Now, before we continue, if anyone has any objections, speak now or forever hold your peace." At that moment, you dropped Denki's hand and held up yours. Audible gasps rang out throughout the crowd, and worried whispers began.

Denki shared a shocked expression with the pastor, but that didn't stop you from nervously opening your mouth to speak. "For the past f-few months, I've endured so much pain from you, your secrecy, your lies. I want you to confess right here and right now that the reason you don't touch me, love me, or talk to me is because you're still in love with Jirou."

More gasps rose from the crowd; Jirou stood up in a panic making many heads snap her way while Denki's heart dropped. "What?" You felt lightheaded looking up at Denki and seeing his pained expression; for the first time in months, you were able to see something other than hatred in his face. "Y/N...is that what you've been thinking this whole time? That I'm in love with Jirou?"

Jirou struggled out of the row she sat in and rushed up to the end of the stage in a panic, "Y/N, you got it all wrong!" Tears welled up in your eyes, and you shook your head and threw your hands up in frustration at their shouting. "You! Both of you! Playing me like a fool! Explain it then! Why have you been avoiding me? Like some plague in our own home, why don't you talk to me anymore? Why don’t you love me anymore?"

Your body began to shake again as you watched Denki step forward in an attempt to grab you. But you stepped back away from his touch. "You got it all wrong please let me explain!" Your vision was blurry, your heart bleeding, and your head cloudy; you didn't want an explanation. You just wanted him to confess, and he wouldn't. So you didn't bother. You whispered a small sorry and gathered the front of your dress before going down the steps of the stage and heading down the aisle. Many people rose from their seats, and everyone was talking at once. Denki was at your side in a flash; he grabbed your arm and turned you to face him where you struggled against his grasp.

"Listen to me! I avoided you because ever since high school, I knew you were the one! The one I wanted to be with forever Y/N, Jirou, has been helping me plan our honeymoon, and I've been taking extra jobs to pay off the house I bought for us. The one I bought for our future! Our kids! Y/N!" Denki's voice cracked tears of his own in his eyes. You couldn't believe your ears...you were wrong?

You continued to struggle, not being able to come to terms that he was possibly telling the truth. "No! I saw the messages; I saw her yesterday! You love her!" How embarrassing of a sight it must be for the guests to watch a bride fight against her groom.

Denki shook his head again and forced your body against his in a tight hug. "No! Y/N, please listen to me. Jirou was helping me plan this whole surprise for you. I've been saving up money since high school and have been working so many jobs just for you baby, please believe me. I didn't want to avoid you and act cold, but I had no choice! This was something I wanted you to never find out until the right moment; I never intended for it to go this way." Through his chest, you could hear Denki struggling to breathe as he held you tight in his arms, but it wasn't enough.

"I'm a dumbass Y/N. I didn't realize I was hurting you and was too obsessed with the idea of this big surprise and not spoiling it that I neglected you, and I'm sorry!"

His words were enough to give you strength to push him off of your body. Taking a deep breath in, you looked at Denki through watery eyes and shook your head in agony. "You better be." Gathering the front of your dress again, you turned away from him, your friends, your family, and ran. Running out the church doors to the church entrance with worried shouting behind you, you quickly rushed down the church's steps. You focused your attention on your dad's car parked across the street, luckily with the windows down. Thankful for your dad's forgetfulness. The keys would still be inside, and the window was already down, so you would've been able to just leave and never turn back. With a big smile on your face, you hurried to the car.

Running to the car with your hand out, you were so emotionally exhausted and focused on fleeing that you failed to look at incoming traffic. You were barely anywhere near close to reaching the car when the loud screeching of tires and pungent smell of burnt rubber stopped you.

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trainsinanime · 2 years

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Emissions

It’s been decades into the climate change catastrophe, but I still see the same mistakes everywhere, for example just today on a website about modern railroads, so I figured I’d put a brief explanation of CO2, emissions and so on here.

Basics

Everything we burn for energy consists, on an industrial scale, of carbon and hydrogen. It can be elemental carbon and hydrogen or, more often, molecules formed from those; and it can be one specific type of molecule, or many different mixed. But in the end, it always comes down to carbon and hydrogen.

The specific ratios of carbon and hydrogen vary a lot between various fuels. At one end we have pure hydrogen; at the other end we have coal, which is almost all carbon. In the middle are things like natural gas or gasoline. Natural gas is typically methane, which has the formula CH₄, so four hydrogen atoms for every carbon atom. Petrol or gasoline is a mixture of a lot of things, but they’re chemically all somewhere similar to Octane, which is C₈H₁₈, or a little over twice as many hydrogen atoms as carbon atoms.

If you burn such a material, in a furnace or inside a turbine or a combustion engine, then both combine with oxygen (O₂). Hydrogen combines with it to H₂O, also known as dihydrogen monoxide or more commonly, water. Carbon combines with the oxygen to form CO₂, or carbon dioxide.

Both of these are things that occur naturally and are by themselves non-toxic, clear, and don’t smell. Yes, you’ll die if you’re in a room with only those, since they’re not O₂ which you need to live, but mixing them into the air is generally okay. As a result, neither of these are considered pollutants… locally and immediately.

Of course The problem is that CO₂ goes into the atmosphere, stays there, and reflects heat emitted from the earth back, causing the greenhouse effect, and destroying the earth within the next few decades. When people speak of carbon emissions and carbon footprint and so on, they mean CO₂ emissions specifically. Technically, CO₂ is not considered a pollutant, but that’s because it does its harm globally and over long time; not because it doesn’t do harm.

Local pollutants

Pollutants are the things that harm you directly, right now, if you’re next to them. They come in a few categories, such as:

Not burning enough

If you don’t have enough oxygen to burn the carbon to carbon dioxide, then you get carbon monoxide, CO, which is sadly toxic.

If you burn the carbon even less, then you get just pure carbon, in the form of small particulates. The problem with these is not so much that they’re carbon as it is that they’re really small, so they can get into your lungs and stay there, causing problems.

If you really don’t burn enough, you will get the original carbon-hydrogen compounds back, and perhaps even some new ones that formed randomly at the high heats you have in your engine. Now, hydrocarbons can be good for you, among other things all food and everything about you that isn’t bone is mostly hydrocarbons, but so are most poisons. Random hydrocarbons are generally likely to be the ones that are harmful to your health. Also, if it’s unburnt fuel, then it will come out as small droplets, which are again harmful particulate emissions.

Burning too much

It’s also possible to burn more than you intended. Air isn’t just oxygen, it’s also (in fact mostly) other stuff, most importantly nitrogen. Nitrogen doesn’t burn easily, but if you get the temperatures just right, you can burn it to various nitrous oxides, so called NOx, which are all toxic. Just right sadly happens to mean the temperatures where diesel engines are the most efficient.

Burning other stuff

Finally, the fuel may include impurities, stuff that isn’t carbon or hydrogen. A common element here is sulphur, which forms SO2, which combines with rain to form sulphuric acid, which kills trees and destroys buildings. Gasoline also used to include compounds that had lead in them, which resulted in lead being blasted into the world.

Getting rid of that

The important thing here is this: All these pollutants that you get, the carbon monoxide, hydrocarbons, particulates and nitrous oxide are all things that are undesired byproducts of the combustion, and you can fix them by optimising your combustion, or filtering things out before or after or processing them better.

…and what you can’t get rid of

However, none of that filtering or optimising changes the carbon dioxide output. CO₂ is the normal result of burning something that has carbon in it, and there is no useful way for filtering it out yet. The only way to get fewer carbon dioxide emissions is to burn less fuel containing carbon.

When people are talking about e.g. “clean coal”, they mean coal power plants that have some technology to filter out the sulfur dioxide. That’s way better than a coal power plant that doesn’t have that, but it doesn’t affect carbon dioxide one bit. As long as you keep feeding carbon (in the form of coal) into that power plant, it’s going to produce an equivalent amount of carbon dioxide.

If someone tells you that a new locomotive uses the latest exhaust treatment technology to reduce NOx emissions, that’s really nice, seriously; NOx emissions are a real problem. But it won’t affect climate change at all. Only burning less fuel does. The locomotive in the article above happens to do that as well thanks to modern technology, but that’s independent of the reduced NOx emissions.

Burning less carbon

If you’re wondering why the e.g. EU is considering natural gas a greener technology, by the way, that’s all about the chemistry: Oil has about as much carbon as it has hydrogen atoms, so it produces a lot of carbon dioxide per kilogram of oil burned (I’m grossly oversimplifying the maths here and just looking at tendencies). Natural gas has four times more hydrogen atoms than carbon atoms, so the percentage of carbon dioxide is going to be lower. That is a real effect, and replacing a coal power plant with a natural gas one is an improvement. Just promise that you don’t think at all about where the natural gas is coming from (while some comes from the Middle East, most comes either from Russia or from fracking in the US). But since there is still that pesky C atom in the methane atom, there is still going to come CO₂ out if you let it react with oxygen.

If you insist on burning something at all, which some industries genuinely have to, then burning pure hydrogen is indisputably the best option. No carbon in means no carbon dioxide out. The main problem here is finding a source of hydrogen. The cheapest methods for producing it actually produce a lot of carbon dioxide along the way, which defeats the point. The expensive methods; electrolysis with electricity from green power, do not produce any carbon dioxide, but they are very expensive.

TL;DR

Tier IV EPA emission standards, or Euro 6 emission standards, or EU stage V emission standards, or “clean coal”, or similar, have nothing to do with carbon, specifically CO₂, emissions. There’s no link at all. These standards all about everything else (except water) that comes out of the exhaust pipe. Don’t let people fool you. The only way to reduce carbon (dioxide) emissions is to burn less stuff containing carbon in the first place.

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xmyshya · 3 years

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Shoved it: chapter I - Grind

summary: You don’t like skaters. They’re unruly, misbehaved and rude. But this one encounter just might change your view. genre: fluff warnings: tooth-rotting fluff (seriously, make a dentist appointment), slow burn, mutual pining betas: @vanille–kiss as always I'm eternally grateful to you, I love you lots a/n: Written for ANILYSIUM (former HQHQ) Server Collab with the prompt “Meet Ugly”. Check the event’s masterlist here! series navi: masterlist | next wc: 1.4k

Books. You love everything about them - the scent of the ink, the feeling and texture of paper under the pads of your fingers, the sound of pages being turned, the way how 26 letters bloom as a whole new world in your mind.

It’s a beautiful spring day, one that carries the warmth of sunshine and scent of freshly revived greenery in the air. Birds are chirping sweet love songs, you’re wearing your favourite flowy dress, gentle breeze makes the short stray strands that slipped from your bun tickle your nape.

On a day like this, it’s extra hard not to bury your nose in the tome you carry around these days. Technically, you know you should pay attention to your surroundings, especially when you’re walking and not sitting on the bench, but it’s just getting to the good part, where the thief prince is about to steal a kiss (and a heart) of the princess and -

Huh?

It’s a beautiful spring day, the sun is finally out, no sight of rain clouds, no school today, absolute freedom. Which is why Suna Rintarou is rushing to the park, using his worn skateboard for the first time this year. He surely hopes he hasn’t gotten rusty with the break, but damn does it feel good.

The wind is ruffling his bangs that stick out from underneath his beanie, and it makes him want to go faster, faster, and maybe, just maybe, he might be able to fly. Or at least jump really well. So he pushes again and again, despite moving at a decent speed already.

There are stairs nearby, and Rin feels today is the day he beats his record at how far he can land. He’s approaching it fast, the top is right there, he can see it, so he pops the board and then shoves it, his ankle at a perfect angle, and shit, if it ain’t the perfect pop shuvit, and fuck, he’s middle air and knows he’s gonna fuck it up.

Because at the bottom, right where he predicts he’ll land, there’s you. A cute girl, with her hair and dress flowing with the wind, eyes trained on a book in her hands, and she doesn’t even see him.

Which is why he crashes with you, having enough mind clarity to push his board in another direction and cover the back of your head with his hand, before he falls on top of you on the pavement. You blink at him with a confusion clear in your gaze, almost as if you don’t know where you are. He smirks at you lazily, and in his most seductive voice lets out a,

“Hi.”

You still look at him with those huge doe eyes, like a little lost lamb, and he would love to sink his teeth in your flesh like a big bad fox. The boy opts for helping you up, instead. He can do that other thing some other time. As you shake off the dirt from your dress, he opens his mouth to say something more, but he’s met with

“What the hell?! That was dangerous! You could have hurt somebody! Have you thought about it? This is a public place, you… you… you punk!”

He’s staring at you dumbfounded, surprised at your sudden outburst. Definitely not what he expected after protecting you from the impact, and definitely not after presenting you his best smirk, the one that has every girl swooning. Suna shakes off his haze when you reach the top of the stairs, and mumbles at the sudden realisation.

“But… I’m not a punk?”

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

You’re running. Your feet hurt, lungs burn, and you don’t really see where you are or where you’re headed, but it’s better than getting caught by palace watchmen. The hand around your wrist has a tight grip, as you’re dragged through narrow dark alleys. Suddenly, the man in front pulls you behind a corner, his arm wrapped around your waist, both your chests heaving against each other.

“Are you okay, Princess?” He asks, voice still a little breathy from the exercise, and you nod. “I think the guards are gone now.”

“Are you the Prince of the Thieves?” His smirk grows wide in the shadows.

“I did steal you from the palace, did I not?” His face is coming dangerously close, olive eyes boring into yours. “If you’re not careful, I might steal your heart as well.”

His breath is fanning over your lips as he whispers the last sentence, you part your mouth…

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Shit.

Wait, why did the Prince have the face of that punk?

***

Luckily the bus you take to school isn’t crowded. You squeezed yourself into a window seat with earphones completely sealing you off from the surroundings. Hopefully upbeat music will be enough of the distraction from the weird dream. Hopefully.

Relaxed, you close your eyes and sing along in your mind, tapping the rhythm on your thigh. You let your mind wander, as you imagine yourself dancing to the song, feeling the endorphins pump through your veins.

Until an image of those greyish-yellow eyes glinting in the darkness flash in your head.

Well, shit.

***

If there was any hope of relief from being haunted by that intense gaze at school, it’s gone now. As a top student you were always focused on lessons, always ready with an answer for any question; but today it’s completely the opposite.

First, you somehow managed to forget a basic algebraic formula. While solving a problem on the board. The class was shocked, the teacher was not impressed, you were embarrassed… Still feeling the heat of shame hours later.

Then you completely spaced out, forcing the English teacher to repeat your name over and over, telling you to continue reading a text. And you didn’t even know which part you should continue from.

After that came chemistry, and you nearly blew up the lab after messing up the proportions of ingredients. Why were you so affected by some punk you didn’t even know? Why were you seeing those damn eyes everywhere? Even in the cafeteria, at the table across from yours, that boy also has those eyes.

Wait, no. Oh no.

You’re staring at him unabashedly, silently praying to be wrong, waiting for something, anything, to prove that it’s not the person from the park. It doesn’t come, but the heavens curse you instead.

In a slow motion you observe how his eyes meet yours, and as if it wasn’t bad enough, he smirks. You make off the cafeteria so quickly, that you nearly trip over your own two feet. Seriously, what did you even do to deserve this punishment?

It’s Monday again, and Suna would rather stay at home and sleep. But he has to show up to class, so he reluctantly crawls out of the bed, throws on his uniform, and after brushing his teeth leaves the house. It’s such a drag, honestly. Nothing interesting ever happens.

Rintarou nearly dozes off on the bus, the steady hum of the engine and gentle rocking serving as a lullaby. But he can’t sleep, he can’t miss the stop and be late again. So he forces himself to watch the monotonous scenery on the other side of the window.

As predicted, the day goes by slowly. There’s nothing amusing about listening to those old peoples’ rambling on subjects nobody even cares for. Like hell he’s gonna need inorganic chemistry or classical Japanese. So Rin is sitting at his desk, chin in the palm, thinking how it’s a waste of perfectly fine weather for skating.

Finally, the lunch break comes and he drags his feet behind Miya twins to the cafeteria. It’s not his favourite place, it’s crowded and loud, but his buddies fighting over food makes it worth the hassle. They’re doing this right now, Osamu trying to steal his brother’s onigiri, while Atsumu attempts to poke the other boy’s hands with chopsticks.

Suddenly Rin feels somebody’s intense gaze. It’s not like he’s not used to it, girls usually stare at them lovingly, but this feels different. Curious, he glances in the direction he thinks it comes from and sees… you; barely aware of the smirk curling his lips. But then you run off, probably flushed. That must be it, right?

Suna feels like he hit a jackpot.

#haikyuu x reader #suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #suna fluff #suna rintarou fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x y/n #suna x y/n #suna rintarou x y/n #hq x reader #hq x y/n #hq fluff #anilysium server collab #shoved;it #mysh.whitedwarf.[hq]

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mcfreakin-bxtch · 3 years

Text

Playing with Fire

Part Five of the Just this Once Series

Warnings: Smut (no actual smut tho guys sorry), Masturbation (f), Teasing, Language, Dirty talk, Terrible Star Wars knowledge

Word Count: 2.3K+

Summary: A tease through the links and a bet fulfilled.

A/N: This chapter is a little short, but I hope you all enjoy! This may seem a little anti climatic and messy but that’s on me guys, that’s my bad. Also this may seem different in tone if that makes sense? The next one will be more smutty goodness but with some injuries (and yes i used another random star wars planet don’t kill mee)

You’ve finally figured it out.

After about a week of travelling to your next destination, it finally occurs to you to just play at his own game. You know—fingering you in a crowded cantina, smirking to himself while you struggled to stay quiet in that fucking booth...

But first, you must say that Edis is a strange place. Rain falling at every hour with apparently no signs of ever letting up, and the humidity is unforgiving—how Mando is handling it in all that armor and padding, you’re almost too afraid to ask, because there’s just no way that he’s comfortable, and an uncomfortable Mando can lead to a grumpy one.

Maker you’re grumpy yourself if you’re being honest. The Child has been restless lately, like the heat is getting to him as well, and that’s been taking a toll on your (already) poor sleep schedule; Mando tries to help, but there’s only so much he can do. However, it has given you the chance to think of the perfect payback for your little deal—or bet is a better word—and you gotta say, you’re a little proud of yourself for coming up with this evil—and small—tryst in the first place.

If it’ll work the way you want it to, time will tell.

“Were you even listening?”

The modulated crackle startles you from your thoughts. You turn in the pilot’s seat, making contact with the visor and the stiffness of his posture confirms your suspicions—he’s hot and grumpy.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “Lost in my thoughts.”

He doesn’t acknowledge it. “I’m leaving. They should be nearby, and everything should work out as long as you and the ship stay hidden.”

Like anyone could. Mando isn’t messing around on this one—well, the man doesn’t mess around with anything, actually—and he’s made damn sure that not only are you available with a few weapons nearby (some hidden, of course, just in case), but that the Razor Crest is shadowed by towering trees a bushes in this small part of the rainforest; it’s nearly impossible to even see the gunk through the one of the thickest part of the forest. If anything finds you, they most likely won’t come back alive.

“Okay. Good luck.”

He gives you one nod and the cape whips as he turns around, strutting towards the ladder as you follow behind. Mando checks on the kid—sitting up in the middle of the haul with a few little toys surrounding him—and gives him a gentle caress of his floppy ear before using his vambrace to open the ramp. He doesn’t give you a glance back, and that’s okay with you, but you can’t deny the slight stinging in your chest when he disappears into the foreign planet.

“Alright little guy,” you say with a grunt as you plop down on the floor next to the Child. “Let’s figure out what to do.”

***

Ten days.

Mando has been gone longer on bounties like this, believe or not, but that still doesn’t ease your increasing anxiety when the com link stays silent; you suppose you’re used to the quickness of his updates.

Today, after hours of entertaining the baby the best you could, you can finally settle comfortably in the pilot’s chair… but now what?

Sleep, your body says, because what else is there really to do? Don’t, your mind tells you, because you have the baby here alone on an unfamiliar planet and anything could happen. A part of you wants to go out and check the foreign terrain. One look shouldn’t hurt—

“Hey,” his voice speaks through in statics.

You quickly fumble with the com, feeling like a clumsy mess when you almost drop it in your haste; he’s caught you by surprise, for about the hundredth time.

“Y-yeah. Yeah I’m here,” you stammer.

“Not so close,” he tells you, annoyed and tired.

You wince and pull your hand back from your mouth. “Sorry. Good news, I hope?”

“Yes. And no. It’ll be at least a few days before we’re out of here.”

That sucks.

You suspect that the quarry is indeed with him by the short words, and that’s okay, because with your plan now in the front of your brain, fresh anew like the first time you cococked it in the wake of sleep, washing your quick irritation away, your chance is finally here.

“Mando,” you say as sweetly as you can—your heart skips a beat when there’s a moment of silence. “They can’t hear me, right?” you continue before you can find out if the com is dead or not.

This is incredibly risky. Even a little unfair of sorts, given that he’s technically working right now, and that leaves no room for games or distractions—the moment is just too good to pass up.

Another minute goes by. You sink in your chair in disappointment, ready to admit defeat.

“Not now.”

Yes.

“This was part of the deal, Mando,” you remind him. “And I’m already starting to get wet.”

That isn’t a lie. The slickness of your arousal is starting to seep from your core—fourteen days (counting the week it took to get here) is a long time, and as long as you can get him to keep talking, this will work beautifully for you.

A pause. “I can’t…”

“I’ll do all the talking,” you lick your lips and slink down comfortably, sliding your hand along the length of your neck, imagining it’s his hand wrapping around your throat. “You just listen. You can do that, can’t you?”

You wait, and for a split second you’re afraid that, yet again, you’ve done something wrong. You really have to start working on that.

“You don’t—”

“Okay.”

Maker. Maker okay.

“I uh—” what were you going to say to him when you thought of this in the first place? “I… you know what I think about when you’re gone?” You know he can’t answer much, not without giving himself away, but you pause anyway for dramatic effect. “First, I imagine you stalking towards me like you always do… like I’m one of your bounties.”

Your pussy quivers in excitement as you close your eyes and picture him doing just that, sliding your hand down to your chest, groping your covered breast and trying to mimic the same amount of pressure he applies to them—you really wish it was his hand instead.

“Then you cage me in, leaving me with nowhere to go. There’s a specific type of exceleration to it. One that makes things even more… exciting.” You pinch your nipple and whine, loud enough to give him a good show—Stars you hope that quarry can’t hear you through the baskar bucket of his. “You like to drag it out, to watch me shiver in anticipation, and fuck if I don’t like it either.”

You can hear the light breathing through the comlink. A spark of victory, early victory, runs through your body and straight to your pussy, neglected and hungry for any type of friction.

“And then,” your hand slides further down to the waistline of your pants, fumbling with the buttons. “You touch me. Softly, at first, because you love to tease—” a barely audible sigh interrupts, bringing a cheeky grin to your lips. “—and I think you’re an ass man, because you never miss a chance to lay your hands on mine.” Your fingers slither their way under your panties; your inner thighs twitch at the first brush of your finger against your aching clit, and more slickness escapes your cunt. “And you ghost your fingers over my breasts, down my stomach, over my hips where you like to grip them tight, to my dripping pussy…”

Not a peep from the com. You’re surprised he’s kept his composure. You shouldn’t be, yet a part of you is.

“And,” you go on with a moan. “When I feel your thick fingers paw at me, rip my clothes off and fuck my pussy deep, getting me ready for your big cock while your teeth scrapes against my neck—oh fuck…” The curse slips from your lips without warrant; your fingers buried in your pussy like you’re explaining to him. “My fingers are not the same—” you bite down on your lip as you curve your fingers, delicately trying to find the spot Mando finds with precision. “They don’t make me feel as full as yours do. But I’m still fucking myself with them, Mando. While you’re out there, and I’m in here… it sucks, doesn’t it. Having to stay quiet when all’s you want to do is fuck me until I can feel you for days and day after, your cum leaking from me, and who knows, maybe I won’t even let you cum.”

“You will,” he nearly growls, and that’s an early sign you’re in a world of trouble when he does get back. “That’s part of the deal.”

“...What...deal…”

The faint voice cuts in annoyingly, and Mando shoots back with a decent threat that’d make you terrified for your life; again, it’s probably wrong that it does nothing to deteriorate the fluttering of your wet muscles.

“Keep going,” his tone leaves no room for argument.

Your fingers move faster. “I think you should be a little nicer to me,” you sigh dramatically. “You’ve been gone for so long, leaving me all by lonesome… you like to do this a lot I’ve realized, leave me high and dry. But you might have a chance to fuck my face if you’re a good boy.”

You have to stifle your giggle at the last bit.

“Yeah, you’d like that,” you coo. “And I’d swallow every drop.”

A barely audible exhale filters through the link. You’re right there with him, your face scrunched in concentration.

“I’m happy as long as you’re inside me,” you continue on with delight. “You’re an asshole sometimes, but you can fuck.”

Mando sighs again, this time feigned with theatorical frustration—well in his case, it may be truthful, but it sounds more for the quarry’s (and yours) benefit than the latter.

This is more of an ego boost for him more than anything as well, if you think about it, but as long as you get him riled up and you cum, that’s enough for you. So you curve your fingers the best you can given the compromised position and flick your thumb against your clit, images of his gloves sliding down your pants in the cantina playing through on repeat. This time you moan louder for your own amusement, imagining him struggle; it’s sweet, sweet revenge.

“And?” He asks suddenly—calm and steady.

His voice, even modulated like that, makes your muscles twitch as the coil in your lower stomach boils to a tight flame, and the sloshes of your fingers slinking in and out of you adds to the euphoria clawing through your core.

“Your cock,” you whimper. “Stretches me out so good every time. You’re so big, Mando, so thick in every way and it feels amazing. I bet you miss the way my sweet cunt clenches around you.” You bite down on your lip to hide a groan, wanting to hear his response as your fingers move even faster, scratching against the itch. “Don’t you?”

Your pussy flutters around your fingers at the first scrape against your sweet spot (finally!), and—well fuck, you’ve never seen much of him to actually picture what his cock looks like driving in and out of you at the verioucious pace he usually chooses, so this is a little bit difficult than you thought it’d be; as long as you keep fucking yourself like this…

“Yes.”

Your breath shakes as you exhale. “Shit I wish you were here right now,” you rub your clit harder. “I-I want you to fuck me so hard when you get back, Mando. Want you to—hmm—to grab me so hard that I have bruises the next day. Use me. And you’d come right in my tight little pussy, isn’t that right?”

You don’t expect him to answer this time. Not when you’re so gone in your little cheraid and your pussy clenches harder and harder until there’s nothing but white noise tying you down to this moment.

“Fuck. Fuck I’m so close.”

You try to conjure the feelings Mando gives you—the feel of his hands, pressing down all over you, fingers leaving indents in your skin, his mouth on your neck, biting down on the sensitive flesh until you’re marked; the drag of his cock along your slick walls until there’s tears in your eyes and you can feel him all the way to your cervix.

“Mando,” you whine, then bite down on your lip again; the Child certainly doesn’t need to hear this. “I… I need to hear you. Say something, anything.”

“Go ahead,” gruffer, close to a grunt—your pussy gushes at that. “Now.”

The command is clear, and it’s not going to take you that much to ride the waves of your orgasm starting to crash down over you. Your moans and whimpers trapped behind tight closed lips and your fingers covered in your juices, it takes a few more curves of your fingers and tight circles on your clit to feel the hard and delectable clench of your inner muscles.

“Yes,” your body trembles. “Oh Ma—” You hide the rest of the plea behind a muffled scream as short bursts of pleasure sparks through your entire body, your fingers trapped in the squeeze of your cunt as more juices flood down the slope of your ass, milking every drop of your orgasm.

After a few long moments your tense muscles relax and deflate, relieved and satisfied. Though, the only problem is that it is short lived, an orgasm small enough to hold you over until the real deal comes back. Speaking of…

“Mando?” You breathe. “Still with me?”

“I’ll be there soon. Be ready.” And then nothing.

Chuckling to yourself, you wince as you slowly pull your fingers out, wiping your slick covered fingers on your pants.

And now you wait.

For however long that’ll fucking be.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #fanfic #the mandalorian imagines #pedro pascal

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chicksung · 3 years

Text

Can’t You See Me? || Choi Chanhee

part of @ficscafe fic exchange event!

Genre: angst, little bit of fluff, ghost!au

Pairing: ghost!chanhee x reader (ft. younghoon)

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning/s: death, depictions of depression, dealing with death, mentions of a car accident

Synopsis: You loved Chanhee, with your whole being. You didn’t what you would do without him. However, it seems like life intended for you to be without him for the rest of your days

A/N: this fic is for rani @letteredwings please enjoy lovely. sorry that it’s a little late :/ this is unedited. please ignore any mistakes

any and all feedback is appreciated

Choi Chanhee promised you that he would love you until the day he would inevitably stop breathing and cease to exist. You always laughed off the comment, thinking it was just a stupid saying he would be saying into old age. You wished you had taken it as a sign, maybe you would’ve been more cautious, maybe this whole situation could’ve been avoided. What you didn’t know is that he had died a liar when he said those ridiculous words. He loved you after he passed too.

Chanhee stood helplessly in the kitchen, watching you stand there with an aching heart. You were wide eyed, shocked and frozen from the news.

“I’m…sorry?” You stammered, hoping, praying, that your ears were deceiving you with mean elementary school tricks.

“Is your partner Choi Chanhee?” The man’s voice seemed down, like he was scared to tell you again.

“Yes, he is. We’ve been together since high school,” You informed him, trying to push down the sickening churning in your stomach.

“I regret to inform you that your partner has passed away. We received a call this morning of an accident. A truck had collided with a car. The truck driver seemed to be okay, but your partner’s injuries seemed to be more serious.” Every word pricked your heart, which was as fragile as a balloon being poked with a needle, “We tried everything, but he eventually passed away. I’m very sorry for your loss.” You nodded, your chest tightened painfully, your vision blurry from the tears in your eyes.

“Alright, thank you for letting me know. Have a good afternoon, sir,” You signed off, trying to keep your voice from cracking.

“You too, and again, I’m sorry for your loss,” The line went dead and you placed the phone on the kitchen counter. Chanhee? Dead? No, he can’t be. He had specifically said he would be careful on the road. Tears slipped down your cheeks like sweet raindrops, your knees pathetically giving out as you wailed, yelling out obscenities and curses. Chanhee ran behind you.

“No, I’m right here! Can’t you see-” He went to place his hand on your shoulder when he realised how pale, almost transparent, he was. He sat beside you on the floor, a million thoughts passing through his mind. He couldn’t comfort you, only able to listen to you cry his name in a desperate plea to bring him back to you. Chanhee’s heartstrings tugged harshly, but he was helpless. He was nothing but a memory now, a missing part of your shared apartment, a ghost.

You stood amongst crowds of familiar faces, his friends, family, distant relatives, colleagues, the list goes on. Who they were didn’t really matter to you, what mattered was the casket being carried away from the church doors and out into the miserable weather. Fitting, you supposed, that it was pouring with rain on the day of his funeral. Attendees moved outside, umbrellas creating a dismal cloud of sorrow above them. It had been two weeks since Chanhee had passed away now, but for some reason you could not bring yourself to cry. No matter how many times you felt his absence, not even after looking in his open casket, no tear stung your eye. You watched emotionlessly as his coffin was slowly dropped into the rectangular hole just beneath his headstone.

Here lies Choi Chanhee

Loving son, brother and friend

April 26 1998 - August 17 2021

Until we meet again, my love

You felt a hand slide across your shoulder comfortingly, Chanhee’s best friend, Younghoon’s. You didn’t react, didn’t flinch, didn’t move. You remained stone cold and kept your face void of expression. A different feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. Irritation? Anxiety? Frustration? It was hard to describe, which typically meant it was complicated, and you didn’t really like complicated feelings. You could sense a storm coming, and judging from the storm clouds of emotion in your mind, it didn’t look like it would be clearing up any time soon.

A distance away from the gathering of mourners, a pale figure stood solemnly. Sure, watching his own funeral felt weird, but Chanhee could only think of you, and how you stood there, in a similar way to him, unable to display your emotions. He wished for one second, just one, that he could understand what you were thinking, feeling, praying. Maybe there would be a way to ease the pain you felt in your heart? He was technically responsible for said pain, so shouldn’t he try and fix it?

Younghoon had been coming over more, Chanhee would notice when he would be sitting on the foot of your bed, which you had not made the effort to get out of. Everyday, the time you would eventually get up would be pushed back. Before, it was only an hour later, then it was two, then three, then four, until one day, he noticed that you only got up to go to the toilet. He would listen to you cry, sniffle, send the occasional text to someone. Younghoon had seemed to notice, so had made it routine that he would come over at exactly 1:09pm every day to help you get out of bed and try to create a productive day together. Chanhee had memorised the sound of Younghoon’s footsteps, the sound of his keys jingling in the door’s lock, the way he would hum as he made his way to the bedroom. Younghoon had become the life inside of the dead quiet house. Chanhee noticed the way that his best friend would look at you, the sad sigh that would escape his lips when he saw you, sprawled out and weeping.

“Come on. You can’t keep moping in here,” Younghoon sauntered over to your bedside, crouching down to get a better view of your face.

“I can do whatever the fuck I want. Go away,” you hissed, pulling the covers over your head, childishly pretending that if you couldn’t see him, he would simply fade from existence.

“Bubba,” he called out sweetly, tugging the covers out of your grasps, “you’re running low on food. I don’t want you going hungry, and besides, it’s a nice day outside. Whaddya say?” With a low groan, you slowly rose from the safety of your sheets, loose hairs sticking up in wild directions. Chanhee rushed to your side, his cold touch to your cheek sending a cold shiver down your spine. He sighed somewhat sadly as he watched Younghoon help you out of bed. It should be him helping you out of bed every morning, it should be him trying to motivate you with small activities. However, deep down he knew that if it were him, you wouldn’t even be struggling to get out of bed in the morning. He was the cause of your lack of motivation, he was the cause of your pain, your suffering. Every emotion you were feeling right now was because of him, and somehow, in some way, he wished he was still there. He wished he was Younghoon.

“Where’s Uncle Chanhee?” Your young nephew looked up at you with big eyes, confusedly looking around to find his favourite uncle. You sighed softly. You knew you would have to have this discussion with him sooner or later.

“Uncle Chanhee...isn’t going to be coming today,” you explained, kneeling down to the four year old’s level. Chanwoo’s bottom lip quivered slightly, “Why not?” He asked with glossy eyes. He had been really looking forward to playing with Uncle Chanhee, and couldn’t understand why he didn’t wanna play with him. You knew Chanwoo was too young to understand death, but he had seemingly noticed Chanhee’s absence. You chewed the inside of your cheek, trying to think of some sort of acceptable lie to tell a child.

“He’s not well today. He says he really wish he could play today, but he had to stay home,” You pet the boy’s head softly, hoping he would understand. The little boy nodded, seeming to understand.

“Can I make Uncle Chanhee a get well soon card?” He asked with wonder in his eyes, and you would have to be a monster to have said no.

“Of course, Woo. Go get your craft things.”

You helped your nephew decorate his ‘card’ which was really just a folded sheet of printer paper, but you weren’t about to rain on his innocent parade.

“I’m still sad that I can’t play with Uncle Chanhee. I wish he was here,” Chanwoo admitted, writing a sweet message in lopsided messy handwriting.

“Just because he’s not here in person, doesn’t mean he’s not here in spirit,” you explained, drawing a sun in the corner of the card for the youngster to colour in.

“What do you mean?”

“It's kind of like magic,” you pondered aloud, “like a hug you can feel from someone who is not there.” The child nodded.

“Yeah! Like it still feels like mommy is hugging me even when she’s not there,” it was your turn to nod.

“Exactly, Woo! You’re such a clever boy,” you ruffled his soft hair, making him giggle uncontrollably.

You were right, in a way. Chanhee was there, as a literal spirit. He felt a warm surge crash over his pale body, knowing that Chanwoo wanted to make him a card without fully understanding what was going on. A child too sweet for this world. However, it wasn’t Chanwoo he was focusing on. It was you. You weren’t crying, you weren’t wailing his name in agony. You seemed peaceful, collected, like you were watching the sunset over the sea. You were starting to come to terms with no longer having your boyfriend there. Sure, it pained you every morning to roll over and say good morning to someone who never even got into bed that night, but it didn’t hurt as much as it used to. He was unsure how long you would stay in this peaceful mindframe, but only the best storyteller will tell, time.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Younghoon asked softly, eyes just as gentle as his words. You nodded, confident in your decision. You were a little unsure when you first brought up the idea to him, but it had to be done. The both of you walked up the hill in the cemetery, hands intertwined. You two had been dating for some time now, but you always had this lingering feeling that Chanhee wouldn’t like what you were doing. You loved Chanhee dearly, but you felt the same about Younghoon. It had been almost seven months since you received that phone call, but slowly everything in your life was piecing itself back together, formerly shattered after the tsunami of emotions that wiped out everything that made you feel human. You stood at the face of his gravestone, his name etched prettily into the cool rock.

“Hey,” you greeted, your hand slipping out of your boyfriend’s. Chanhee displayed an invisible smile.

Hey.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” The sentence felt awkward and heavy on your tongue.

It has. How have you been?

“I’ve been doing well. Just trying to get by, you get it.”

Yeah, I get it. Is that Younghoon?

“I was getting to that. I’m not sure how it happened, but it did. He helped me a lot after you passed. I owe him a lot. Mainly ice cream,” You laughed at yourself, partially because of your bad joke, and partially because of how ridiculous you must sound to anyone passing by.

You’re dating now?

“Yeah. I just...I wanted to say thank you,” you blurted, playing with the tips of your fingers.

Why are you thanking me?

“You taught me a lot, Chanhee. How to cook ramen properly, how to make the best oven baked pizza anyone has ever had, but most of all, you taught me how to love. And while I love you so much, my god, you can’t even believe to comprehend it, I’ve found someone else that I love,” You felt tears spring to your eyes. You were the only one talking, so why did it sound like you were saying goodbye? You glanced at Younghoon, who only smiled weakly.

“Can I say a few words?” Younghoon stepped forward, placing his hand on your shoulder, the same way he had done the dismal day of Chanhee’s funeral. You nodded wordlessly, watching your boyfriend stride towards the grave of his best friend. Younghoon traced the etched marks of his friend’s name before giving a small smile.

“You’ve been gone too long,” he started, giving a sad chuckle, “and a lot has happened during that time.” Chanhee laughed silently at his friend’s words, slumping against the cold headboard of his resting place.

“But I will promise you this. I will look after them for you. I will care for, and nurture and love them for you. It’s what best friends are for, right?”

Chanhee nodded, a friendly smile finally adorning his features. He felt something new, something he hadn’t felt in a long time, peace. His body felt as light as a feather, as if it was drifting through the breeze. He dropped his gaze to his hands, only to see that the aforementioned body part wasn’t there. He was fading, an experience he had thought about many times before, but somehow, it wasn’t as scary as he thought it would be. Chanhee looked to you, and he could’ve sworn that for a moment, just one moment, you could see him, slowly dematerialising out of existence. He wasn’t scared anymore, scared of how you would cope without him. You had Younghoon, the only person other than you that he trusted his life with.

“Until we meet again, my love,” Chanhee bade his final farewell to this world, taking a small bow and with a slight change in the wind’s direction, he was gone.

You felt light, like the weight of an entire urbanised city had been lifted off your shoulders. Younghoon took his place by your side once more.

“Should we go home?” He suggested, earning a relaxed smile from you.

“Yeah. Besides, it’ll be dark soon,” you squeezed his hand, your eyes glowing in the reddened flare of the sunset. Hand in hand, you walked down the stone path and out of the overly large rusted gate. It was never easy letting go, not by any stretch of the imagination. You would always carry a piece of Chanhee with you, and even without him by your side, you felt closer to him than ever.

#ficscafe #kpopscape #kpop #fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #kpop fluff #kpop angst #the boyz drabbles #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fanfiction #the boyz new #choi chanhee #the boyz chanhee #the boyz fluff #the boyz angst #the boyz

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embrassemoi · 3 years

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Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 18

Pairings: Sirius B, Remus L, [F]Reader CW: mentions of abuse, throwing up, depression, horrible coping mechanisms, implied sexual references A/N: Read CW for this chap.

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Chapter 18: Love Isn’t a Magic Potion

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February 14th, 1976

There wasn’t quite another person like James Potter who knew what unrequited love felt like.

After years of harbouring feelings for Lily, making a fool of himself, his failed attempts of trying to impress her; she never seemed to take interest. Lily always sent him disgusted looks, never passing up the opportunity to call him a dirty arrogant toe-rag.

And sure, it phased him sometimes; her words cutting deep, but despite it all, James still believed in the fairytales, the sparks, the magic of true love, finding your soulmate — your better half. His parents were his main inspiration for love. Years — decades they’d been together and still, the love they held for one another, so fierce and unstoppable, it even shocked James at times.

A long time ago, when he truly understood the concept of love, he made a promise that he wouldn’t settle for anything but for the fairytales, the sparks, the magic of true love, finding his soulmate — his better half.

He wanted all of it. The good days, the bad days, the glitter and sparkles, the cheesy one-liners; long walks on the beach, nursing them back to health after they caught the flu, watching the sunsets, dancing in the rain — even the stupid petty arguments. He wanted all of it.

No matter how long it took to find them, he would; after all, everyone had their person.

Maybe that’s why he chased after Lily for so long — hoping for that romantic love — the love that’s made for movie screens — the type of love that conquered all. But he wouldn’t continue to beat on a dead horse, especially if Lily didn’t want that.

He wouldn’t force her and certainly, he wouldn’t harass her.

But, James would consider himself lucky, he found his friends — they were already his platonic soulmates and he’d go to the ends of the earth for each of them. His parents, the Marauders, Marlene, now Whiskers; he was always surrounded by only the purest amount of love.

He was never a person to cover up his emotions — hardly, that is. He wore his heart proudly on his sleeve, never once letting others dictate his life and the way that he loved. He laid himself bare, open, and there was a beauty to it that words couldn’t describe.

Love truly conquered all, whether it be romantic or platonic.

But to the women that fell in love with Sirius Black, well — there wasn’t quite another group of people like them who knew what unrequited love felt like — not even James ‘Oi, Evans!’ Potter could compare.

Love is shit.

Love is cruel.

Love is unfair.

Sirius would go on date after date. One fleeting look and soon enough, he had women at his feet, falling for his devilish charm that captivated them in seconds.

They swooned over his chiselled jaw and thick glossy hair; eyes so mysterious with profound, moonlit mirth. The epicanthic folds highlighted his sharp and pointed look that they swore cut through them, searching through the deepest part of their souls.

He was a part or used to be a part of the oldest and most noble Pureblood families in the country. He was rich, of high status, French, could speak five languages and a mischievous bad boy straight out of your classic Muggle film.

Falling in love with Sirius Black was an easy task, so simple and it could happen in a blink of an eye. The realization would come either fast or slow depending on the poor lovesick git who let themselves fall.

But getting Sirius Black to return that affection was an impossible task.

He was raised as a gentleman and would play the part before becoming bored. They were all fillers, the people he dated.

He would admit it, he’s a bit of a dick.

He never fell in love with anyone he’s dated so far — never got past the fancying stage and even then, it was never strong. It never made him feel those butterflies that James described them as. His heart never jumped, never sped up fast, he never felt his skin heat nor did their laugh ever put him into a trance — nothing like what he described them to be like. If anything, he’d always break it off with the girls he found himself getting too comfortable with; always severing it before it became too much.

Although, it technically never was his fault that they fell in love. Most of his admirers like to daydream from afar, or they’d make a promise at the beginning — no strings attached.

Well for them, it did. It almost always ended with strings attached with Sirius holding a pair of shiny scissors at the end of fried thread.

He did not believe in the fairytales, the sparks, the magic of true love, finding your soulmate — your better half.

But that doesn't mean he didn’t want it.

But, above all, Sirius Black considered himself to be a realist. Unlike James, he couldn't — he wouldn’t let himself believe in that shit anymore. Love is disappointing and it does nothing but hurt you, nothing but a filler he used to distract himself with, no matter who it was. Love did not fix his fuck ups nor himself.

All of the adoring admirers, the ones that lined up for him, they would all leave if they caught a glimpse of the worst parts of him. The ugly, nasty parts. He used rage as a means of defence, he pushed the people he loves away, he was moody, dramatic and above all, reckless.

All they wanted was to take, use him for his body — they wouldn’t love him if they knew him. The real him: the ugly side along with the beautiful one he wore. The side that wasn’t always adventurous, daring, bold, brave… happy, go-getting.

Nobody would stay for the ugly part of him.

In that regard, Sirius was unloveable. Completely, utterly unloveable.

Currently, the uglier, caged part of Sirius re-emerged as he writhed around in his bed. Eyes moved rapidly behind eyelids, squinted in pain as he squirmed around, clutching the bed sheets tightly. His head flopped from side to side as he was unable to wake; stuck in a nightmare.

“You mudblood lover —” “Don’t call them that!” “Babies, Regulus, babies!” “It’s killing me to stay.” “CRUCI —”

Sirius woke with a jolt, choking on a strangled scream that clawed at his throat. His mind seemed to be encased in a wordless static, muting him to the noise around him as he felt the rapid, hard thumps against his chest. Distantly, he could feel his body raking in waves as the sticky, cold feeling of his sweat dripped from his temple and down the side of his face. It made his hair stick to his forehead uncomfortably yet somehow, despite the sweating and the overwhelming feeling of heat, he felt ice cold.

He swallowed thickly, sniffingly away the stinging growing behind his eyelids but failed as a few stray tears had already settled on his cheeks. Sirius looked around frantically, meeting the familiar red and gold bed sheets that were now pushed off of him as he sat upright in his bed. Red velvet drapes hung around the sides, pulled together as slivers of bright light sliced through them. It made him squint and focus on the surroundings.

Soon enough, it felt like a weight lifted off his chest, marked in unspoken forgiveness once realizing where he was.

You’re safe, his inner voice spoke firmly, It was just a dream. A dream.

“Wakey, wakey Padfoot!”

He had just enough time to wipe the freshly fallen tears away before James ripped back his curtains, jumping into his bed. He drew a deep sigh, avoiding James’ eyes and trained them to look outside.

Upon the grass and mountains, snow sprinkled on much like sugar over a cake. The distant chirping of birds could be heard singing their usual song, or more like an alarm clock, as they soared high in the sky without a worry in the world.

If only Sirius could be a bird, what a simple life he would lead.

“Fuck you,” groaned Remus, “He might be awake, but I’m not.” His eyes clenched in annoyance, throwing his blanket over his head.

“Well aren’t you lovely? Isn’t he, Sirius?”

“The loveliest,” he managed to grit out, throat groggy and dry.

“Shut up!”

“Okay, calm down big bad wolf.”

“Well,” he mocks James, his voice going an octave higher, “This big bad wolf can maul you.”

James beamed brightly, the ever morning person he was, unaffected by Moony’s response. Instead, he padded his way over to him, shaking him before Remus flipped the covers off his body, tackling him into his bed.

“Do you guys think I should cut my hair?” James managed to get out as he gasped. Remus sprawled out on top of him, pinning him in place as he was being crushed from his weight. “I want to make sure I look good for today.”

“You’re always in need of a trim,” Peter called out.

“You look fine,” Remus added, “Besides, you and scissors are not a good move right now.”

Meanwhile, Sirius’ stomach felt hollow, worry ate at his very being before he felt something rise within his throat. Quickly, swinging his legs over the edge, Sirius made his way to the loo in a rush while James and Remus were both distracted.

Peter was there, rifling through the cabinets with his toothbrush dangling from his lips. “Morning,” he said, not quite looking over to him, “Do we have any more toothpaste? I keep telling Prongs not to use so much…”

“Get out,” he managed to say before shoving Peter out of the door, closing it shut. He barely managed to cast a silencing charm before opening the lid of the toilet seat, throwing up. For the most part, Sirius gagged on air before finally attempting to collect himself, preventing hyperventilation.

Foolishly, even up until that dreaded night, Sirius had an ounce of hope. For what exactly, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was hope that Regulus might have turned out different, or maybe it was hope that he’d finally be accepted, even though he knew that would never be the case — never with parents like Walburga or Orion.

But every time he dared to dream, to hope, he was always quickly reminded why it hurt. Hope was dangerous, a false sense of reality — a taste of what people dreamt and chase for but could never quite grasp.

It was more addicting than any kind of alcohol he drank — or the girls — or pranks.

Eventually, he got up from the floor, jumped in the shower and followed his morning routine before wrapping a towel around himself and stepped out.

Sirius was drying his hair before catching a glimpse of himself in the large mirror in front of the sink.

Sirius had never been insecure about the way he looked. A part of him, the arrogant and narcissistic part of him knew that he looked good and he’d flaunt it. But there were times like today, where he’d look at himself, but feel as if he’s looking at a familiar face that wasn’t his — a monster reflected back.

He wondered if this is what Moony felt like.

For a moment, Sirius let his face rest, allowing the helpless, loitering fear and guilt he felt engrave its way onto the smooth surface of his skin.

The eyes looking back at him today were his father’s, his hair reminded him too much of Regulus, his high cheekbones reminded him of Walburga and the tired, slightly crazed look reminded him of Bellatrix.

A member of the Black family, that's what people saw when they first looked at Sirius, the heir of the most noble and ancient house of Black.

Sirius Orion Black.

Orion Black… Even his name made him want to cry out in rage. Another reminder.

Pushing back his wet hair, he studied the faded scar that disappeared into his hairline.

It was more apparent than ever that Sirius had scars.

But unlike James, whose scars were from happy memories of the Quidditch pitch, or Peter, whose only scars were from chopping chocolate for a fancy baking recipe — and lastly, Remus, whose scars were visible, laid out for everyone to see, Sirius’ scars were invisible.

He wore them day in and day out without anyone ever knowing.

With a blink, he drowned out his thoughts immediately; his dreams, his past, his thoughts were for another time.

He sucked in a breath, clicking the door open.

Remus was the only other person still in the dorm. He stood in front of the mirror, buttoning up his white school shirt before ducking down and grabbed his bag, shoving in books, his wand and any other loose pages of parchment that he assumed was for his little study group.

“Where’s Wormy and James?” He asked, not liking the way his voice sounded wobbly and hoarse. His eyes no longer peered up at his chap, instead looking around the room. Anywhere but his face.

Thankfully, Moony didn’t seem to notice, preoccupied with the now overflowing pile of Valentine gifts and cards on his bedside. He grew frustrated with them with every passing second as they littered his space.

“Accio bin!”

The black bin from across the room flew into Remus’ hand, quickly shoving the letters in but soon a guilty look flashed across his face.

Remus had always been too considerate about their feelings, perhaps Sirius should take a page from his book.

Sirius had a pile accumulating on the carpet beside his trunk; it seemed like more and more people every year were confessing their feelings, but this time, Remus seemed to be getting a lot more along with the rest of the Marauders. But he smiled, happy to know that Remus had been getting some action. He fucking needed it.

“Er — sorry, Pete’s off to Wood’s room to borrow their toothpaste and James —” Remus cut himself off, bringing a hand to the sides of his temples as he moved them in circular motions. “I’m pretty sure Prongs went to find Y/N. Something about finishing a sign or a song for today —”

Sirius bit back a laugh, “A song?”

“I guess he’s fucking Paul McCartney now.”

Remus passed him, disappeared into the loo, giving enough time for Sirius to get dressed.

It was his third dream that week about that night and it was wearing down on him emotionally. He was losing sleep, he wasn’t eating, he was reclining from the Marauders, he was so prone to anger; lashing out, yelling… he didn’t like how he was acting — it reminded him too much of Orion.

And the thought made him sick to his stomach. He didn’t want to be a monster.

Lost in his depressing thoughts, Remus re-entered the room. But instead of walking up to his bed, Remus halted, looking directly at him before he crossed the room, putting a protective, encouraging hand onto his shoulder. A serious and calculated look crossed his face.

“Do you need anything?” He spoke in a hushed voice, as if he were to speak any louder, the walls might hear.

Sirius felt unexpected annoyance brewing in his chest. Bloody fucking Lupin, of course he knew — using his heightened senses to sniff out his distress.

Unlike Sirius, who hid his emotions, who covered and buried even a sign of weakness, who searched for answers high and low, Remus was so blunt — clear cut with his emotions. He knew just what to say, knew what was happening before others did even if they hadn’t even spoken yet.

He wished his thought process was as clear-cut as Moony’s.

“What do you mean? I’m fine,” he said, faking nonchalance. Jokingly, he prodded Remus’ cheek with his finger, “Turning into Moomy, again?”

His friend did not smile, concern still latched on.

“You know I’m always here for —” Before he could say anything more, Sirius hastily grabbed his bag, slinging over his shoulder, bolting out of the room.

Hiding — running away from his problems — that’s what Sirius was an expert on. And like that, he switched off that part — the ugly, unloveable part of his brain for the day.

When Sirius reached the Great Hall, he wasn’t surprised when a dozen owls bombarded him with letters and chocolates. It brought a sly smile to his lips

What? He did say he was arrogant.

“Looking grand, Black,” Marlene teased as she observed the overflowing amount of cards already in his arms. She ruffled his hair as he was forced to take the seat next to L/N. Marlene turned to chat with Dorcas, who finally was back on her feet and kicking it.

“It’s not even eight and your bag is filled?!” Peter exclaimed, baffled.

A part of Sirius didn’t feel annoyed as he sat beside her. Maybe it was because his main stressor, the Black family, was out of the picture and he’d been desperately trying to control his lash outs, but Sirius was stumped. Since the break, especially after the ‘Muggle’ incident, he found himself tolerating her presence.

Just a bit.

He understood why James, Remus, Lily, Marlene; why everyone took a liking to her.

But he had an inkling as to why.

Although, his mixed feelings towards her were not helping in the slightest as he dealt with the string of recent events in his life.

She was the one that spoke first, which surprised him.

“Ugh —” Y/N fiddled with the hem of her robes, “Kettleburn wants us to switch the Puffeskin between us. I was thinking since we’re in the same house, we could keep it in one of our dorms. I was thinking about keeping it in yours.”

“Why not yours?”

“They liked to hatch in warm places. Your dorm has a fireplace, right? I remember James telling me you had one… And it would make it easier since women can go into the boy’s dorms.”

For some reason, he couldn’t stop himself — he just couldn’t. “I bet you’re trying to get off quick.��

The accusations did not sit right with her.

For someone like Sirius, someone who dealt with the worst shit imaginable; someone who'd been beaten down, both metaphorically and literally — someone who by the textbook was supposed to curl in on himself — keep to himself, be small, avoid drama, don’t cause arguments — Sirius did anything but that. Everything he did, he made sure to cause a reaction.

“No —”

“Are we about to argue because you want to win, or is it because you want to learn?.”

“You’re so arrogant. I don’t need you for grades. Your brain probably grew twice in size when I turned you into a dog.”

“Didn’t ask.”

“Then why are you replying?”

Sirius rolled his eyes, “Very creative.”

“Do you ever just shut up?” She snaps. Her face inched closer to his.

Unbeknownst to her, for a second, a second that he’d never admit, Sirius' brain falters. They hadn’t been this close to each other since that day after Kettleburn had assigned their group project. He catches the smell of faint floral — tulips, he thinks. Or maybe vanilla? Books? Tea? He couldn’t place it.

But his heart did a funny thing. It never does a funny thing like that and it concerns him. He wasn’t sick, was he?

Silence lingers.

L/N scoffed, “Well finally, it looks like you have.”

Although, she seems completely unphased by their closeness.

“Huh, you really do shut up.”

He snorts, his brain finally working again. “You nag an awful lot.”

“Well, you —”

“Whiskers. You’re a woman, how do I look?” James asked. He came bouncing up to them across the hall from the entrance. He twirls a little, showing off his outfit. In one hand, he held a sign and a bunch of roses. “Would you fancy me?”

“Dropping hints, are we, Potter?” She smirks playfully, “Anyway, I know you nicked that from Sirius.”

Sirius looked over to him, his head nodding up and down but was surprised that she noticed the difference, “She’s right, that is mine. Maybe that’s why you look so good.” He meant for the remark to come off as a joke, but cringed as the words spewed from his mouth. He sounded like a complete arse.

James ignores him, “I have everything planned.” Then, he holds up a sign, all in baby pink with hearts dancing across the page as a huge message declaring his affection for Emmeline was written in bold fonts. I looked fairly cheesy, but that was James for you. A romantic at heart.

“Well,” he starts, clearly happy, “Do you like it?! I’ve also got a song written!”

“Remember the last time you wrote someone a —”

Y/N kicked him, hard, under the table, which caused Sirius to look at her sharply before his face turned annoyed again. She hadn’t even glanced his way yet. She continued to calm James down, giving him a pep talk while Sirius would jump in with encouraging words.

“Of course we love it — is it for Lily or —”

James shakes his head and they both knew who he was referring to.

“— Then Emmeline will love it even more! Get the girl, Bambi!”

James smiled triumphantly, sticking his fist out for a fist bump before running off happily towards the Ravenclaw table.

“Y’know,” Y/N starts, talking to Sirius as they both watch as James gets up on the table, preparing to serenade Emmeline in front of the entire Great Hall with a guitar that vaguely looks like Remus’. “You can choose not to be a dick.”

Surprisingly, he laughed, small, but there. And then, he finds himself responding to her comments, “I beg to differ.”

“Then beg.”

Sirius’ eyes widened, feeling his mouth go dry. He bit the inside of his cheek, eyes fluttering shut a couple times. It didn’t help that she smirked at his reaction and it made Sirius feel funny. An odd swoop piddled at the base of his stomach.

“I’ll take that into consideration for later,” he settled on.

Remus and Lily waltzed into the room, both holding small cards of their own. L/N and Sirius shuffled over as much as they could to fit in with both Remus and Lily.

A part of Sirius’ routine had started incorporating Lily doing his hair. Most often, she did pretty braids or buns — but of course, not without James pouting to him later. He only hoped that with Emmeline’s new presence, James would stop.

“Ooo la-la!” Y/N mocked, swiping one of the cards from Lily and Remus. “You two are popular.” She turned to face Lily.

“It’s n-nothing, really, “Lily stuttered, her head ducking down. But her eyes seemed to look up at her, seemingly in hope of some recognition.

“Don’t be so modest!”

“A-hem!” James’ bostal voice. His foot wobbled on the edge of the table that made them all nervous if he were to fall. He finally concluded his song. Lily looked over and smiled, glad to know that James had finally chosen a different target to annoy.

“Fuckin’ barmy,” Remus muttered out, a hand going to cover his mouth in suspense. His hand travelled down to his chin-stroking his jaw.

“Emmeline, thou beauty —”

“Oh my god,” groaned Remus again, sinking in his seat from the second embarrassment but smiling nevertheless.

However, Marlene whopped loudly, a large grin on her face.

Lily looked over to the scene, her eyes finding their way back to L/N, Peter paled slightly at the scene, Marlene was howling in laughter along with Sirius.

But much like himself, L/N found herself laughing with them too.

Her laughter rang out, and Sirius found himself drawn to the noise. But what was worse, was that he wanted to hear it again.

And even though he knew that other women and even men were staring at him right now, ready to give him all their affection and attention, Sirius found himself unable to look away from her.

He felt his palms getting sweaty, his heart beat harder, he wanted to sit closer to her and a smile tugged at his lips but he forced it down.

Fuck.

It was almost as the realization hit him there like a thousand tidal waves.

His heart jumped, it sped up fast, he felt his skin heat and her laugh put him into a trance — everything like what James described it to feel like.

If it was what he thought it was, Sirius wasn’t quite pleased with his newfound knowledge. He already had too much shit to deal with and certainly, someone like her was not worth it.

As the thought arose, there was something else that pulled him from these thoughts; it was the very shit that Sirius was dealing with, coming to haunt him again.

Regulus entered the Great Hall and Sirius had the urge to run to the nearest bin again. He hadn’t seen him since that night.

Within seconds, Regulus sensed his gaze and their eyes locked.

He wasn’t proud of Regulus, if anything, Sirius resented him — hated him and his entire body spiked in anger as he stared at him. He chose his path. But he couldn’t help but feel immense, dreadful guilt.

He could’ve done more, been there for him more, talked to him more. There were so many possibilities, so many outcomes and Sirius managed to end up with one of the worst paths imaginable.

He both wanted to scoop him up in his arms, cry — hold onto him tight like how they used to years ago, but the other part also wanted to take a Beater’s bat and swing a Bludger at his head.

His head shook slightly, just enough for Regulus to get the hint.

There was a hard, hopeless expression on Regulus’ face as he seemed to take a sharp inhale, his shoulders slumping within every passing second.

They were from two separate worlds, more evident than ever now. They weren’t brothers, not really.

Two of the brightest stars were torn apart forevermore.

Once the bell rang, Sirius sprang out of his seat and walked down the halls. He dodged owls, letters, chocolates and even a few love potions. There was a familiar void that punched its way through Sirius’ chest.

It was too early for firewhiskey, he couldn’t get knackered, he couldn’t talk to James, not when he was this happy and getting a pack of smokes from Remus — he’d bloody know within seconds what was wrong and call a Marauder's meeting or sort out some intervention for his sanity. Besides, he needed to apologize to Peter for how he acted that morning.

So the next best thing; snogging — a quick shag.

The next girl that tossed a flirtatious wink his way, he immediately approached. She was pale, had brown hair, soft skin and he vaguely recognized her but couldn’t quite place it. They flirted, Sirius would suggest it, she smiled, nodding her head and giving out a breathless sigh as Sirius dove for her lips, walking into the nearest broom closet.

Things were fast, almost a blur. She reached down, fumbling with his buckle before it clanked to the floor; he unbuttoned her top, hoisting her up and pushing them against a wall. She let out soft whimpers and he groaned into her neck.

The sensation, the building pleasure had left as soon as it came, leaving him feeling empty once more. He peeled off the girl, checking if she was alright like every other time. He didn’t know her name, forgetting it, and smiled awkwardly as she dressed.

He watched her leave the broom closet, the door clicking softly behind her. He could hear the faint scuffle of her shoes as she skipped down the hall excitedly. She had gotten what she wanted, a piece of Sirius; the Sirius that he put out — the pretty, nicely packaged Sirius.

Bent down, sinking to the floor, rocking on the balls of his feet, arms wrapped tightly around his legs and his head resting on his knees; emotions pooled through Sirius, attacking his frail heart.

Sirius laughs; it was dry, sad, pathetic, defeated. It was hard enough to hide with smiles, pranks, the random girls, sex, but those happy hormones that he craved, it was never, ever enough.

He couldn't go on like this, he had to fix something because something else was bound to break.

His laughing became strained as the walls of his throat began to close, eyes filling with tears. But now, finally alone, he let them cascade freely as his quiet sobs echoed in the dusty closest.

Love isn’t a magic potion.

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【I hope it was clear in this chapter that in no way am I trying to romanticize Sirius's trauma】

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exquisitley-obsessed · 3 years

Text

Fiancés, Firebirds, Foxes and Fawns: 2

Author: @exquisitley-obsessed

Summary: A few weeks after Briallyn's attempt at uniting with Koschei, Lucien opens the door of Lockhart Manor to find Elain, cold from the rain and holding a note from the High Lady of the Night Court demanding her to assist Lucien in building alliances with the human councils. Forced to work together by their exhausted High Lord and Lady, Elain is able to convince anyone to do anything, while Lucien has the acquaintances to go anywhere he likes. Together, they attempt to unite the fae and mortal lands and unravel the deal made between Koschei and Vassa, while Lucien remains haunted by his own promise to Elain's father. ELUCIEN, POST-ACOSF

Pairings: Elain x Lucien, Elucien

Warnings: None.

A/N: This is going to be a long, slow burn fic (hopefully)

MY MASTERLIST

THIS FIC’S MASTERLIST

AO3

Chapter Two: Interrogations

Historically, it is well known for males to experience the mating bond more viscerally, though this is no strict criterion. For example, in the case of two males being bonded, the mating bond appears to be less demanding and settles with more ease. It is males mated to females who appear to struggle. There are many theories for this, such as male/female bonding resulting in strong offspring which drives the males to copulate. Some even argue that the male’s desire comes from the Mother’s lover himself, who’s believed to have taken fire into his soul in order to reach the Motherland and mate her, and it is a bead of this fire which awakens in males when they feel the mating bond catalysed. As such, we find there being many social customs regarding mated males, such as being wary of their ease to anger and protectiveness and their overtly increased sex drive which-

“Good book?” Feyre flopped down next to Elain, Nyx having just been placed in his cradle which appeared more like a cage given the mesh wiring over the top, ‘just so he doesn’t get any ideas about flying away’, Feyre had grinned.

“It’s okay,” Elain smiled at her sister as she marked her place and set it down.

“Oh,” Feyre grinned as she eyed the title, “Interested in the bond are we?” She was just teasing, but Elain couldn’t stop the flush in her cheeks, particularly given her recent discovery on just how, physical, the bond was.

“Well considering I do have mate, I thought it was about time I looked into it.”

“You can ask me anything,” Feyre smiled kindly. “I mean, technically you could ask Nesta too but, she still isn’t the biggest fan of Lucien.” Even hearing his name on someone else’s tongue sent a bolt of energy through Elain.

“Well, I was wondering…”

“Yeah?”

“Are they really supposed to be your soulmate?”

“Well, yes and no. That’s the problem with mating bonds, they sort of mould themselves around the two people it’s attached to. It’s different with everyone. Like me and Rhys, we have a really clear mental communication, I can talk to him even if I was on the other side of Prythian, but that’s because we’re both dementias and the bond’s playing to that strength.

“Nesta and Cassian, well, I can’t speak for them, but it seems they connect on world view. Their lives are inherently interlinked with death and that’s what connects them…amongst, other, things,” Feyre giggled, “It really is different for everyone. And sometimes, yes, the bond connects two people who don’t seem to fit with one another, like Rhys’ parents for example. I don’t know if you’ve got to this section yet,” Feyre nodded to the book, “But some see the bond as not restrained to time. That’s why you and Lucien felt the bond snap into place even before you knew each other. Some people think that when you have ‘poor’ pairings, they not really bad matches but rather, the bond saw the two for their potential rather than what they were at the time.”

Elain’s brow furrowed. She’d wanted to read the book to make herself feel better, she’d never admit it to herself, but she was somewhat looking for a big flashing sign that pointed to Lucien and said ‘He’s your soulmate! You’re a perfect match! You’ll never have to worry about be alone again!’. But reading the book had only made it more complicated. The reality was, Lucien was to have a significant role in her life, whether she wanted him to or not.

“But…I don’t know…” Elain rolled her neck, “Is it worth it?”

“Is what worth it? The bond?”

“No…well, yes. I mean,” Elain thought for a moment, “I just don’t understand how the universe could expect me to fight for someone who I don’t know.”

“Yeah, I do see how that’s a bit unfair but, do you not think the bond’s doing that on purpose?”

“What do you mean?

“Well, it looks like the bond is demanding you take a leap of faith. Giving you Lucien the minute you set eyes on him is, well, it changed your whole world, right?”

“I know,” Elain huffed.

“No, what I mean is…maybe that’s the point?” Feyre was now more talking to herself. “Maybe…” Feyre trailed off before turning and eyeing her sister up and down.

“What?” Elain implored, and Feyre just shook her head, deep in thought.

“It’s just, I’ve been trying to figure it out y’know, you and Lucien, I think we all have.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“No, it’s just, he’s…well he’s loud and flirty and he can’t shut up for the life of him, it’s why he’s missing that damn eye. And you’re quiet and shy, and you just, you care about everything but…” Feyre was grinning now.

“What?”

“No, no, never mind. I just…” Feyre only smiled wider.

“No, I’m not going to say!” And then Feyre was up, collecting empty mugs from the coffee table.

“Feyre, you can’t leave, you haven’t helped me!”

“I know, I know, look, truth time,” Feyre turned back around, her smile now replaced by her High Lady look, “You’re right, you don’t know if it’s worth it. You and Lucien might turn out like Rhys’ parents, or worse…but he is your mate, and he’s not going anywhere.”

“So, what, I just proposition him next time he’s here?” Elain sighed, running a hand through her hair, feeling the same kernel of disappointment in her gut whenever she thought of Lucien on the other side of the country, avoiding the mating bond, avoiding her.

“Or you could go to him?” Elain snapped her head to her sister, who was wearing an easy smile.

“What?”

“You could go to the human lands and stay with him and his, what’s it, ‘Band of Exiles’.”

“What, just show up?”

“Actually, it’s not such a terrible idea,” Again, Feyre was now talking to herself, “Lucien’s been struggling to get the humans on board and you, well you might be perfect for the job. You understand how humans work and you had to deal with paperwork from father, not to mention the fact that quite literally no one can say no to you-”

“Lucien can,” Elain grumbled without thinking and Feyre grinned at her with a stupid, all-knowing smile.

“Elain, if you wanted, I’m sure you could have Lucien crawling around on all fours.” Elain looked away from her sister, ignoring the fact that the image popped into her mind before she could stop it, and especially ignoring the way her whole body seemed to flush in response.

“The only problem might be getting Rhys on board,” Feyre’s mind appeared to be working a mile a minute. “With what happened with Briallyn he’s a bit more, well, Rhysand than usual. And you know how he sees you.” Yes, the big brotherly talks had been slightly more regular given Nyx’s arrival. Elain supposed it was Rhysand’s subconscious way of reaching out.

“I’ll be fine if Lucien is there,” Elain shrugged non-committedly, though something zipped the length of her spine as she spoke his name aloud. One thing Elain, and everyone else could be certain of, is that Lucien would keep her safe.

“Look at you trying to manipulate around your High Lord.”

“Not manipulate-”

“I know, I know,” Feyre grinned as she peered over the edge of Nyx’s crib. “Look, on a serious note, there is work that needs doing down in the human lands if you’re up for it. After Briallyn we need a stronger base to represent the fae in the mortal world. Some more eyes and ears wouldn’t hurt and, quite frankly, whilst Lucien knows exactly how to work a court of fae, I don’t know how well he’s faring with councils of humans.”

Elain thought for a moment, truly considering what it would mean if she were to take on this role. It would mean accepting responsibility, being held accountable if she made a mistake, one that couldn’t fixed with some new seeds and freshly turned soil. She’d be on the other side of the world, away from her sisters – away from Nesta – for the first time, well, ever.

“I…” Elain began softly, “I think I’d like to go.”

“Really?” Despite Feyre’s enthusiasm in discussing Elain’s potential in leaving, it was clear that she was still mostly expecting Elain to pass on the opportunity.

“I can’t tend to my little gardens forever,” Elain shrugged, “With Lucien there I should be perfectly safe and, well, it’s human territory. I know those lands, arguably better than you and Nesta.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Feyre nodded furiously, though she seemed to not really be listening to her older sister, her mind was already helping Elain pack her dresses. “I’ll speak with Rhysand and sort out the particulars.”

“Will you,” Elain blushed without meaning to, “Will you warn Lucien? That I’m coming?” Feyre shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“I don’t have to. Technically, as his High Lady I can do whatever I want, and he just has to roll with it.”

“Okay,” Elain let loose a breath, “Don’t tell him then. I’d just…I’m not sure. I suppose I’d just rather not spook him.”

“Whatever you say sis,” Feyre grinned, and Elain allowed her own lips to mirror her sisters, the excitement and reality of the adventure she was about to undertake truly setting in. Feyre turned to leave.

“Oh Feyre…let’s not tell Nesta…at least not till I’m already gone.”

***

“Hello, earth to Lucien?”

“What? Oh...sorry, go on,” Lucien muttered, shifting is attention back to Vassa whom he was supposed to be chatting to. This was their routine, when the sun finally dipped under the horizon and Vassa returned to her mortal form, she’d waltz into the manor before disappearing upstairs to change from the cloak she left out for herself into a queen’s gown. Today she’d come down wearing a deep crimson dress made of velvet, grumbling about how the storm that was currently beating against the windows, had quite literally ruffled her feathers. The evening was then to be spent in the Manor’s sitting room, sprawled on velvet couches as Jurian informed Vassa of the recent developments regarding the human councils, and Lucien told her of the fae lands.

Normally, Lucien would last till the early hours of the morning before leaving Vassa to whatever activities she wished to complete before the sun rose and her body was changed back into that of a firebird. But these past few nights Lucien had caught himself staying awake till almost sunrise, only getting an hour or two sleep before he was up again, his body alive with energy as he strode out into the woods in the early morning light.

Everything about Lucien felt unsettled and alive, and it had been that way since the previous week when Lucien had woke to his mate’s tears running down his cheeks. What could’ve upset her so badly? Had something happened at the Night Court? He would be lying if he said he hadn’t been waiting for a note from Rhysand or Feyre informing him of a terribly tragic event that had occurred when he was on the other side of the world. Even if nothing had happened, it could of, and Elain could’ve been seriously hurt. What was he doing on this side of the world? He should be there, even if she didn’t know what she wanted, at least he could keep her safe while she thought. But with no note, he didn’t know why sweet Elain was so agonisingly sad, and there was no reason besides the bond’s invasion of privacy for him to see her. But it seemed that he couldn’t relax until he found the cause of her pain. Found it and burned it to ashes.

“Lucien!”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Dinner, tomorrow evening, Nolan Manor – Mother did you get any of that?” Vassa’s eyes were light and her tone teasing, but Lucien was feeling more beast than man with his bond so wound up.

“No offence, Vassa, but I think you might be finally losing it if you think I’d be interested in dinner at the Nolan’s.” Lucien rolled his shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension as he looked back down at the book he’d been pretending to read for the past hour. He could feel Vassa’s eyes on him, assessing him as she always did whenever he came into conversation, which was far too often for his liking.

“Are you still on that?” Vassa eventually huffed, tucking her legs up under herself on the armchair. Lucien just raised a brow at her. Had anything changed? Was Graysen any less of a dickhead? If not, then yes, he supposed he was still on that.

“Our dear Lucien’s a mated male, Vassa,” Jurian quipped without raising his head from his paperwork. “It’s how these things work.”

“But it’s not really fair on Graysen is it?” Vassa flicked a fiery strand of hair over her shoulder.

“Not fair?” Lucien ground the two words out, feeling something animalistic rear its head inside of him. But beyond the primal urges of the bond and any threats to it, Lucien did genuinely dislike the boy. What he did to Elain was beyond cruel, and if he had done that to anyone Lucien would’ve still disliked the boy, granted he might not be baring his teeth at Vassa as he was doing now.

“He did give us the manor, Lucien,” the queen’s voice taunted him.

“One act of kindness doesn’t make him any less of an asshole,” Lucien’s own voice was low and daunting, as though he were daring Vassa to make another comment. Lucien hadn’t intended for his tone to turn brutal and dark, but Vassa clearly had no education in the expectations of a mated male.

“No, but he’s still the asshole putting a roof over our heads,” Vassa sighed, setting her book down. “Does it really upset you?”

“What?”

“Having him help us?”

“We don’t need his help.”

“No,” Vassa cocked her head, “But it’s certainly been of great use.”

“You like him?” Lucien spat, feeling something sour flood his gums as he pulled on his inner leash. Vassa was his friend. Vassa was supposed to be his friend, and Lockhart Manor was supposed to be the place in which he could escape from the demands of this bond.

“He didn’t do anything to me,” Vassa shrugged nonchalantly, “In fact, all he’s been to me is kind and accommodating. Why should I have a problem with him?”

“You know why.” Something feral was awakening in Lucien as he spat those three words at the queen, and in response to the autumn son’s anger, the fire flared dangerously, filling the room with the sound of snapping wood.

“Really?” Vassa’s eyes widened slightly as she assessed Lucien, evidentially amused by his grip on the chair’s armrests and the deathly look in his eye. “That girl can do this to you when she hasn’t even shown her face in-”

“Vassa,” Jurian’s sing-song voice curled into the air from where he was hunched over the worktable, signing off contracts, “Whilst it’s delicious to poke the beast, you can only go so long before it’ll bite.”

“Maybe that’s what I was hoping for,” Vassa shrugged nonchalantly as she inspected her nails. Lucien just glared into the fire, done with this conversation and done with his friends, at least for the night. Sometimes they forgot that he wasn’t like them, that he was fae, and he more or less operated in an entirely different world to them. He couldn’t blame them though, sometimes he forgot too.

Talking of Graysen had Lucien’s thoughts once more swirling of Elain. Though there was no concern in these thoughts, just admiration. He was picturing her in the cream gown she’d worn when he’d come one day to hand deliver a stack of reports to Rhysand. It was made of cotton and lace, the same hearty materials so often found in towns of Autumn. It was so unlike the favoured revealing cuts of Night Court fashion, and so Elain in every sense. The soft gold and white colours, the layered skirts and fluttering sleeves. Looking at her as she tucked herself into a small ball on a sofa, a hefty book balanced on her lap, Lucien had wished that he’d met Elain when she was human, when she was happy and content. Maybe then she would just see him for, well, him. Not a reminder of everything terrible that had happened to her.

“I’m sorry about prodding Lucien,” Vassa smiled at him, pulling him from his thoughts as her freckled cheeks dimpled. “Can I make it up to you by letting you beat me at cards?” She was baiting him, daring him to bite back that no one ‘let’ Lucien do anything but, tonight Lucien was tired. Of everything.

“I’m tapping out,” was all Lucien said in response, standing from his armchair and throwing his book down behind him. The storm was now torrential, and Lucien welcomed the chaos, somewhat comforted by the idea of lying down in the dark and listening to the rain batter against the windows as he brooded himself to sleep.

So, Lucien set off for the stairs, happy to leave his friends to themselves for the rest of the night, but he’d only managed to cross the room before a short, shy knock reverberated from the front door and sent a wave of cautious silence and shock throughout the room.

#elucien #elucien fic #elain #elain acotar #elain archeron #elain and lucien #elain/lucien #elain x lucien #lucien #lucien vanserra #lucien x elain #lucien/elain #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #fffaf

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hermannsthumb · 3 years

Note

hey I’m not sure if you’re taking prompt requests but I just had this idea if you ever want to write it. I know it’s not anywhere near New Years right now but I had an idea for if there was a little NYE party with all the ppdc staff there. All the homies are just vibing, getting crunk on shitty alchohol or whatever and y’know Newt and Hermann have a lil New Year’s Eve kiss 🥺

That’s all I have to say I hope you’re having a good day!

@owengrose said: Prompt: "My New Year's resolution is to finally tell him I love him."

happy new year’s eve to both of you!!! i let the first one sit in my ask box for a while before getting to it lol. my annual Newmann NYE fic. here’s to hoping next year is moderately better (and I actually get more writing done...)

-------

“Here we are, then,” Hermann says.

He hands Newt a glass of something he concocted at the lab kitchenette—judging by the color, and the pitiful wedge of a clementine garnish he squeezed onto the brim, some sort of gin and tonic, though less tonic and more watermelon La Croix. It was the only thing they could find in the breakroom fridge that would work remotely as a mixer. It’s probably been buried in there for months. “Thanks, dude,” Newt says. Then, noticing the lack of a similar glass in Hermann’s hand, asks “Not drinking?”

“None of that,” Hermann says. “I’ve got a bottle of decent wine buried somewhere under all the rubbish in my desk. I’ll have that if I want any before we go.”

“Suit yourself,” Newt says. “It’ll be more fun if we show up tipsy, I’m telling you.”

New Year’s Eve used to be a lot more exciting when Newt was in school, and young and invincible and all that shit. There were parties—bar crawls—the Times Square ball drop at midnight, queued up on someone’s laptop or a television screen wherever he was—drinking until he needed a classmate (or later colleague) to walk him home. The Shatterdome staff still goes as hard as Newt used to, and God, Newt envies them for it, but the end of the world kinda killed it for him. He just kinda exists in a low, humming state of anxiety now. He and Hermann both. It’s good for them to get out of the lab every now and then and strive for normalcy, and Newt has a feeling Hermann knows it, which is probably why he didn’t put up a fight when Newt suggested they go to the big base party tonight.

Newt still needs a good few drinks in him before he can drink more and pretend to be merry. He finishes the gin and tonic with a wince. “Too much gin,” he says. “Okay, let’s go.”

Newt drinks, and he dances with a few people, and he engages in a few genuine non-work-related-conversations before he finally admits to himself he’d rather just chill with Hermann in one of the deserted corners of the room. Hermann is waiting for him in a stupid gold party hat with a cup of water—what a guy. Always there for Newt. The hat is a cute look on him, too. Newt wonders if he picked it out himself, or if it was forced on him; either scenario is cute.

“I just don’t fancy dealing with your hangover tomorrow,” Hermann says with a sniff, as Newt swallows the water down gratefully after a few thanks. “Last year—”

“Yeah, okay,” Newt says. Last year was bad. He ended up falling asleep on the floor of the lab, and when Hermann made him coffee the next morning, he puked it up all over a very important stack of Hermann’s paperwork and the subsequent shouting match just made his headache worse. Drinking water is good, very good. He kicks his feet up on a nearby vacant chair. The music is loud, and people look like they’re having fun. Normalcy. He and Hermann are just two normal dudes right now, who aren’t fighting monsters from another dimension. “Can you believe we’ve survived another year?”

“Frankly, no,” Hermann admits.

“One whole year,” Newt says. “One whole year of not being squashed by a kaiju, or eaten by a kaiju, or murdered by you…”

Hermann snorts derisively, though a bit of a genuine smile does peek through. “One whole year of you not blowing the laboratory up. That is a feat, isn’t it?”

“You fucking bet it is,” Newt says. He really thought Hermann was going to kill him over the puking incident, and only a day into the new year too. He slings an arm around Hermann’s shoulders. Two normal dudes, and friends at that. He really likes Hermann, y’know, but that might just be the gin and watermelon La Croix talking. “You got any resolutions, dude?”

“Er,” Hermann says.

“I want to try to get into yoga,” Newt says. “For exercise, and shit. We should do it together.” Back when the base enjoyed more funding and workers, Newt was always seeing flyers for weekly yoga classes taped up in the elevator and at the announcement board in the mess; once, he got it so into his mind that he was going to start going that he bought three whole pairs of yoga pants. He never got around to it, of course. The classes kinda fizzled out when the PPDC budget was slashed drastically anyway. Hopefully YouTube videos work just as well, and that the pants still fit him...

“If I’m being honest, Newton,” Hermann says, and Newt spies the tips of his ears turning pink, how cute, “I still haven’t quite managed to accomplish last year’s resolution. Or technically this year’s, I suppose. My—well—my nerves failed me every time I thought I was close.”

"Eh, no big deal,” Newt says. “I never did mine either. I think that’s just as much of a tradition.” He went vegan for all of two weeks before realizing most of the rationing-standard food they served in the mess wasn’t exactly catered to those particular dietary needs. Also, Newt likes fancy lattes too much, and oatmilk just wasn’t kicking it for him. “I totally am gonna do the yoga one though. I need a stress reliever. I don’t wanna go bald before we’re even killed by kaiju, you know?” He crosses his legs. “Or go grey. I can’t decide which is worse. What was yours?”

“Nothing important,” Hermann says quickly. He takes a clumsy sip of his own cup of water, and spills a bit of it down his sweater. Newt decides not to mention. “It must be nearly midnight. Don’t you want to run off to find someone to snog?”

“Nah, not this year, I don’t think,” Newt says. Last year (before the whole blacking out and ruining the paperwork thing), he made out with a ranger he had a crush on for, like, months, and the guy never even called him back. And Newt slipped his official PPDC email into his pocket too. So totally rude. He reaches out and plucks the elastic string holding Hermann’s hat on, and is delighted when Hermann scowls. “You’re stuck with me. Why don’t you find someone to kiss?”

Hermann opens his mouth, and then shuts it. The blush is spreading down from his ears. “I am staying right here, thank you, and I am not kissing anyone.”

“Suit yourself,” Newt says.

“Five minutes to go!” someone in the crowd shouts.

Newt locates a party hat of his own on a nearby table and pulls it on. It’s silver, unlike Hermann’s. He doesn’t think it looks nearly as cute as Hermann’s. “What was your resolution?” he finally asks. The burning curiosity’s too much for him. What did Hermann mean by nerves? Hermann’s never afraid to speak his mind around Newt, at least—Newt can’t remember the last time he’s held back anything. This must be a pretty big thing.

“Oh, it hardly matters now,” Hermann says. “The year’s about to end, isn’t it? Better luck next go around, I suppose.”

“Were you going to request your own lab?” Newt says. That’s a big thing. And it’s a big thing he’d be hesitant to share with Newt, too. Not that Newt would be upset over having his own lab, obviously, sharing with Hermann totally sucks. It’s the worst.

“Mm. No,” Hermann says.

Newt feels a small twinge of relief, but only for a moment. “A different Shatterdome?” It’s the sort of thing Hermann’s always threatening—by Jove, Newton, if you don’t clean this mess up right now, I’m marching into the Marshal’s office, and I’m going to demand...

“Oh, it’s hardly that dramatic,” Hermann says. He plucks at the elastic of his hat this time. “It’s one minute until midnight.”

“Just tell me!” Newt says. Their fellow partygoers start counting down around them. “You’re killing me. I just wanna—”

“Ten—”

“It’s not important,” Hermann says.

“It is to me,” Newt says.

“It’s really not,” Hermann says.

“Tell me, tell me, tell me—”

“Fine,” Hermann says.

He grips the front of Newt’s shirt. Newt shuts up immediately. “I’m in love with you,” Hermann growls, “you wretched little man. That was my bloody resolution.”

“Oh, shit,” Newt squeaks.

Someone pops a bottle of champagne to loud cheers; confetti is suddenly raining down on Newt and Hermann. They totally missed midnight. “Oh, shit,” Newt repeats, and then, because Hermann looks utterly mortified and like he wants to book it out of there as fast as he can, thinks fuck it. He leans forward and kisses Hermann.

“Newton,” Hermann gasps, half in shock, half in delight, and returns it enthusiastically.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous #last fic of 2020!!!!#alcohol cw ///#emeto cw///#(brief ref)

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ginkgomoon · 3 years

Text

Victor’s Aura- A Character Aura Study

This post is my take on Victor’s aura, taken from my knowledge and intuition to depict what kind of aura he has! I did one on Gavin, as well as Gavin’s astrological birth chart so if you haven’t seen them, you can read them after this post!

What is an Aura? “Aura” by the dictionary is “the distinctive atmosphere or quality that seems to surround and be generated by a person, thing, or place”.

It’s essentially the electromagnetic energy field that surrounds all living things. It’s the magnetic field of vibration like how a lighted candle is lit and how a scent or perfume surrounds a flower. In fact, it’s correctly described as an extension of the body. It’s a part of every cell. Your aura can be affected by anything, including traumas, memories and emotions. It can tell us a lot about a person’s mental, physical, emotional state, vitality and path of life. Habitual thoughts, emotions and even illnesses can be clearly revealed. If a person changes their long standing thoughts and emotions, the aura will too reflect that.

Victor’s Aura There are many layers to the aura but let’s start off with the “ground” colour. This is the main colour that dominates the aura both in size and intensity. It’s arguably the most important colour as it shows what the person should be doing in their life.

Victor’s main ground colour is dark yellow (keep in mind this is not defined as “murky”- when someone is lost and muddled in their life). People with dark yellow as their ground are confident, well adjusted and analytical. As a result, they take life one step at a time, one goal at a time, ensuring every project is seen through properly to completion to avoid problems and setbacks later. They are patient people, setting their worthwhile goals in no hurry to reach them, as they know without a doubt that they will obtain their deserved reward in the end. They prefer to do things rationally and in a logical manner, especially at work where they are required to make use of their good memory and love for detail. As they are ambitious and persistent, they often take up roles of leadership, responsibility and of importance. From his corrections on MC’s reports to the food he makes at Souvenir (that is insisted to be cooked according to certain temperatures), Victor is no doubt a detail-oriented leader even whether if the goal he wants to achieve is related to work or not.

MC: It’s a sort of mark that can be left in literature or in a photograph… and I can feel it. Victor’s eyes are lowered. In his clear and tranquil eyes, there are ripples of light and shadows. Victor: Such as? The smile tugging at the corner of his mouth is clear, and I ponder this seriously. MC: For example, the way I write proposals has changed. The format of my proposals has changed. The indent of the first line, font size 15, 1.5 spacing between lines… it’s the format you find most pleasing to the eye! Victor’s eyebrow quirks. Victor: That’s all? MC: There’s more! I’ve become so much more picky with food. I never used to complain that food tastes bad, but eating at Souvenir has cultivated my palate. Now, when I eat even Michelin meals, I feel as if something’s lacking… -CN Exhibition Date

“What happened with SE is just an example. We’re from different businesses and different fields. There’s no need to compare yourself with me. Also, I’m older than you. When you’ve reached my age, you might attain the achievements I have today.” -CN Night Meeting Date

“Slow and steady wins the race” is the moral that they live by, but sometimes adhering to this credo may frustrate others as they can be so analytical and detail oriented at times- usually at great lengths. A cute little add from the Tender Regards Date around the concept of snail mail, time (Victor’s evol!) and the goal of always reaching your destination in the end demonstrate this this motif in Victor’s relationship with MC.

“Looks like you should have received this Future Mail. Apart from supporting your event, I’m only going to do this once. This will not be repeated. The things I want to say to you are all in this videotape. It only belongs to you.” -CN Tender Regards Date

“When will you finally understand? It’s all right. I’m patient. I’ll wait for you to see the light slowly.” -Rooftop Date

Although they have feelings, they only ever reveal it to people close to them. They enjoy the detail and technicality of conversations and find it hard to talk about their emotions. Victor’s Exhibition and Tender Regards Date are very useful sources of information in relation to these topics, as it displays Victor’s deep emotions of affection to MC and highlights the importance of expressing emotions to those you love. Dark yellow aura peoples’ greatest lesson in life is to be more emotionally open, and when do they do, it usually occurs later in life.

“The writer wrote it down herself - “The time I spent loving someone, not a single second of it was wasted.” I rarely hear such words leave Victor’s mouth, and it makes me feel a little surreal. In my memory, we very rarely talk about the topic of ‘love’. Maybe it’s because he rarely says what’s in his heart. Maybe it’s because I’m used to being thick-skinned. We never have the opportunity to seriously understand the meaning in these words. -CN Exhibition Date

“Do you still remember the special episode on “Feelings” from before? Actually, this theme was inspired by that episode. Giving gifts is a common way to express how one feels. But it’s not that easy to send a gift to the future. With Future Mail, the sender can convey their feelings and surprises in this gift to the other party across time.” -CN Tender Regards date

People with dark yellow as their ground enjoy system and order such as routines at work and in their home life. This is applied to Victor’s strict schedules in his day to day life, such as taking on what time he sleeps and when he gets up to go on his morning jogs. They need to consider new ideas before grudgingly accepting them. This is especially applied to when Victor always says “just this once” to MC when he’s being “childish” with her (but we really know that isn’t the case, he knows this all too well, too).

“Because a certain greedy cat always says she wants to eat something sweet after dinner, I made pudding before leaving the house. Do you think this is a mark of how I’ve been changed?” -CN Exhibition Date

Next is Victor’s “radiating” colour. This represents his interests and motivations. It adds strength to the ground colour. They can work well in harmony, some can conflict.

I would take Victor’s radiating as violet. Violet is a very highly spiritual colour, as people with this colour as their radiating will have a very spiritual take on life, as they are deep thinkers who like to analyse everything and think matters though logically. They are also naturally intuitive. Violet radiatings have the ability to come up with unique and unusual solutions to problems. As they enjoy learning, they have the potential to become experts in their field of endeavour- which is no surprise for Victor as he’s basically an “on top of the world tyrant” in the industry of finances. In addition, they feel things deeply, but rather operate things on an emotionally free level- again with the ground aura traits to enhance this! However, Victor too, has a high EQ despite this.

“I’m no different from you. There are many things I cannot do or force to make happen. It’s okay to not be strong, it’s okay to not do well. You don’t have to bottle up your emotions.” … “I won’t tell you to keep holding on no matter what difficulties you face. That isn’t realistic. There will come a time when you will become an even better version of yourself who will have enough courage and experience to deal with all of this.” -CN Colours of Rain Date

Overall, Victor’s aura of darker yellow and violet depict him as more of a straightforward kind of person, hardworking and articulate, however soon we realise there’s more to what we see of Victor, like how MC thinks that Victor comes off as a “heartless CEO” throughout the main story chapters but he slowly warms up to her whilst determining to prove her wrong. Victor is wise, and doesn’t bother to put in his personal efforts to where it’s not needed, but when it’s up to him- he strives to go all the way for perfection and with the best of his ability. He spends a lot of time in deep contemplation to determine his plans of attack which allows him to execute them well. His values and worth ethics will always in the end allow him to make time for MC, no matter how busy he is :)

And lastly…

Victor leans against the window, his face still written with distaste, but he does not attempt to remove that childish-looking blanket. He brings the red cup to his lips and gently blows on it. The warm light encases him, softening the aura surrounding him. His outline also appears gentler. He doesn’t look as impossible to get close to. My eyes land on Victor, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He puts down the cup in his hands, lowering his eyes, as though deep in thought. This is a Victor I have never seen before… In this moment, he seems to have put down his stubbornness and distant aura - becoming someone within reach. Only now does Victor finally feel my gaze. He raises his head to look at me. -CN Warm Date

All of a sudden, he lifts his other hand gently. A water droplet pelts onto his palm, as though pulling him into the pattering rain. Seeing this, I find myself subconsciously frozen in place. Because of the enshrouding misty rain, the Victor before me appears warmer and more tender than usual. -CN Tender Regards Date

It always has and always will be MC to see this side of him- the tenderness and the willingness of how he opens up to her- his aura willingly to embrace hers too. Fun fact- auras can deflect off one another if you’re with someone you dislike. But when it’s with two people in love, their auras connect, combine and produce an even brighter and bigger accommodating aura for the both of them. He’s certainly living working towards to achieve his greatest life goals- both in his businesses and being with MC, striving together to make great changes and milestones in their respective industries. Without a doubt, she has helped Victor’s aura grow, expand and shine the many rays through his doubts, allowing a light from within to burn brighter and evolve him into more of the brilliant, hardworking and tender man we know today.

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