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peterparker-pickedapepper · 3 years

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Always You

(Peter Parker/Spider-Man x Stark!Reader)

Chapter 01

A/N: this is set during Homecoming (and eventually FFH) in a universe where Tony isn’t ☠️ bc we don’t acknowledge that trauma here 🙂 also, there are elements from the comics and the older movies, but it’s still in the MCU

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I never meant to find it.

And I wasn’t being nosy either. It was my dads fault, really. Okay so yes, I wasn’t supposed to be in his workshop. But is it my fault he just leaves important things lying around? Mom’s told him to keep it tidy enough times you think it’d be engrained in his brain.

Anyway, the how isn’t important. Not even the why matters. It’s everything that came after.

It was the day my world began falling apart.

The moment I lost all trust—all respect—for the two men closest to my heart.

Now that I know their secret, I don’t see how I’ll be able to look them in the eye. But I’m going to do it. I’m going to keep my head up, act as normal as possible...

And see how long it takes for them to tell me themselves.

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Three Months Earlier

“I’m here on the corner of fifth and main, just a street away from the reported sighting of a flying man causing panic among the locals.”

Y/N adjusted her fingers around the smooth base of the microphone, her skin slipping against the hard plastic. It wasn’t nerves causing the dampness on her palms, but excitement. Her eyes flickered from the camera lens pointed in her direction to her best friend standing behind it before easily finding their mark again.

“The large, mechanically winged man has been wrecking havoc in New York’s beloved neighborhood of Queens for the last—”

The ground suddenly shifted beneath her feet with a loud boom, jolting her forward and stopping her report mid-sentence. She twirled around, eyes instantly landing on the sandwich shop across the street.

Or, rather, on the man looming ominously from its roof.

She could only assume it was a man. She’d never seen his face—or any part of his body for that matter—not that his skintight suit left anything to the imagination. But the media affectionately called him “Spider-Man”, so they pretty much filled in the blanks on that one.

She watched as he seemingly surveyed the area. It was always so hard to tell what was going on behind that mask, but every time she saw him she liked to imagine a picture perfect heroic expression etched into handsome features.

It made her disdain for the local superstar a little easier to swallow down.

His head swiveled back and forth a few times, fists clenching at his sides, before he shot one of his webs and disappeared on the other side of the building. She immediately turned back toward her camerawoman, lips pulled into an excited grin.

“This is perfect. Come on.” She wasted no time in scooping up some of the equipment laying at her feet, but stopped short when she noticed the apprehensive expression staring back at her.

“I don’t think I’m really in the mood to run toward danger today.” Her best friend’s bored voice didn’t match the concern she knew was brewing just below the surface.

“MJ,” Y/N all but whined. “We need this story.”

“We need to get ready for next week’s debate.” She muttered, mild annoyance seeping through. “We need to be home in twenty minutes so your dad doesn’t kill us. We need—”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Y/N huffed, tossing the last of the camera supplies into her bag before slinging it over her shoulder.

She turned on her heel, pulling her phone from her back pocket as she moved toward the last crash that sounded a few blocks away. She was getting this story, whether she had to go alone or not. Screw her father’s arbitrary curfew. He was in India for the next few days, anyway.

“You’re serious?” MJ’s incredulous voice echoed from behind her. “What about Liz’s party?”

Y/N’s attention only wavered from the small screen in her hands once she was finished temporarily disabling the tracking feature her dad had not so subtly installed before giving it to her. He didn’t need to know she almost immediately figured out it was there, just like she didn’t need to know that he got a notification every time she hacked into the system.

Her eyes found MJ’s, wide with shock and following something in the sky above. Y/N’s head snapped upward, gaze locking on the flying man who was twisting and turning aggressively in an attempt to kick Spider-Man off his right wing.

“Yes. Very serious.” She huffed, pulse jumping with excitement. “If FRIDAY calls just, please, try to be convincing.”

With that, she spun around one last time before jogging toward the action. She knew MJ’s hesitation was coming from a good place. They’d been inseparable since middle school because they were on opposing ends of the same strong-willed base.

Where MJ was methodical and calculated, Y/N was rash and unpredictable. They were both the type to end up involved in sketchy situations, just at varying speeds and levels of grandeur. Y/N had her father to thank for that.

The iconic Tony Stark was not a pretender. He was who he was, loud and proud. He’d never apologized for it before—not even when he should’ve—and he probably never would. Y/N, on the other hand, had been pretending to be something she wasn’t for more than a decade.

He’d given her a choice when she was old enough for kindergarten. They talked about it, mapped out the pros and cons, and she made a decision. Soon after, she entered the outside world as Y/N Smith. It was the best thing her five year old brain could think of. Plus, she didn’t want her place on the alphabetical rosters to change.

She went to public schools—something Tony never missed an opportunity to mention he hated—and started paving her own way. Right now, that meant she was chasing a super-powered fight through the streets of Queens.

Since landing a highly sought after internship at The Daily Bugle, Y/N’s main priority had been impressing her overbearing bosses. That came with varying levels of complexity, depending on the superhero shenanigans of the month.

She rounded a corner into an alleyway, instantly ducking down when a blindingly bright object whizzed by her head. Her arms shot up in a protective motion as she leaned against the cool brick wall at her side. She remained there, frozen in place with a racing heart, for several seconds.

Something thumped to the concrete only a foot away from her crumpled frame, nearly making her jump out of her skin. She peeked through her arms, still crossed over her head, eyes widening as they landed on a pile of red and black fabric.

The lump groaned and slowly unraveled to reveal Queens’ favorite masked hero. He shook his head, the mechanical eyes of his suit twitching as if malfunctioning. Y/N was stuck in her spot, wide eyes hungrily drinking in every detail they could. Despite following his activity for months now, she’d never gotten this close to the mystery man.

His suit was tighter than she thought possible. It hugged his body in a way that left nothing to the imagination. The rippling muscles lining his torso were clearly visible beneath the thick material. She watched as he sat back on his heels and rubbed the side of his head, shoulders tensing as he seemed to finally realize that she was there.

“Whoa, hey.” Came his breathy, surprisingly high-pitched greeting. He cleared his throat before continuing, a steady hand extending her way. “Are you okay, miss?”

Y/N’s brow furrowed in curiosity, not missing the way his demeanor changed the moment he noticed her. It was like a flip switched. He’d turned on his superhero persona, a process she was unfortunately all too familiar with.

“I’m fine.” The words came out more forcefully than she’d intended, but she was all business now, too.

There was no way she was letting him out of her sight without getting some information. She wasn’t even worried about all the ways her bosses would kill her, she’d beat herself up enough for the missed opportunity. She ignored his hand, dusting her jeans off and hobbling to her feet before reaching for her phone to launch the recording app.

“Can I ask you a few questions, Spider-Man?” She jutted the phone out in front of her, and he took a step back as if the device would somehow hurt him.

The eyes on his mask widened, something she didn’t know was possible. “Oh. I...uh—”

Just then, the ground shook with a massive impact that couldn’t have been more than a block away. It would’ve knocked Y/N right off her feet if it weren’t for the gloved hand that shot out to stabilize her.

“Gotta go!”

By the time his hasty goodbye met her ears, he was gone. It took about ten seconds for Y/N to process what just happened before she took off running in the same direction he’d swung in. She was too far in to give up now. At this point, she’d settle for some shaky footage of the fight. It’d be enough to satisfy her editors for a few days.

She ran out in the street, stopping abruptly as a stampede of people swarmed her. Elbows and shoulders rammed into her sides as she tried fighting her way through the panic.

“Oh, come on people! Chill the fuck out!” She found herself shouting to deaf ears.

Maybe it was because she grew up immersed in the superhero way of life, or her bordering on unhealthy need to get some kind of story tonight, but either way she was aggravated by the public reaction more than anything.

She was rarely scared anymore, even when faced with imminent danger. Admittedly, she didn’t have a good gauge for when she might be getting herself into trouble. Another thing she blamed her father for.

Her eyes remained trained on the sky, watching the fight unfold in mid-air. She cringed as Spider-Man nearly fell off the homemade-looking flying suit. He quickly regained his balance, shooting a web into one of the back engines. It immediately started sputtering as the metal clanked and caught in the sticky substance.

They were going down, and fast. She knew this was probably her last chance to get any kind of discernable footage of the event, so she reached into her back pocket for her phone. It was at this moment that someone decided to shove into her so hard that she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground.

A rush of air left her lungs as she hit the asphalt, hard. She couldn’t help but wince as pain shot up both of her arms. There would definitely be bruises she’d need to hide later. Thankfully, at least she ended up near the curb so she wasn’t instantly trampled to death by the screaming crowd.

She pushed herself up into a sitting position and huffed, wiping away the tiny rocks that were now embedded into her palms. She was about to hobble to her feet and call tonight a wash when her eyes landed on a blueish-purple glow coming from a nearby alley.

Maybe she wouldn’t get any useable footage tonight, but a souvenir would lift her spirits and, hopefully, her credibility in the office. Without wasting anymore time, she stumbled to her feet and ducked into the darkness of the cramped space.

She followed the pulsating light, stopping only when her eyes landed on a small, metallic object. It had a thin silver cage protecting what looked like a gem or rock of some kind. Nothing too crazy, aside from the whole glowing thing. Her brows furrowed with curiosity as she crouched down to get a better view.

She had absolutely no idea what it was, and she’d seen a lot of weird things in her dads workshop. The only thing she could compare it to was some of the alien technology that’d been leftover from the Battle of New York. She’d run a few stories about that herself, plus saw her dad tinkering with some things since Thor took Loki back to Asgard.

Figuring she could show it to him at the very least, she pulled the end of her sleeve over her hand and grabbed it. She let her bag slip off of her shoulder and quickly unzipped it before sliding the object inside.

Just then, the sound of screeching metal filled her ears at a deafening volume. She managed to close her bag before covering her ears and ducking against the brick alley wall. The crowd still surrounding the area screamed in horror.

She watched with wide eyes as the huge bird-man landed on the rooftop just a few feet away from her crouched form. It was the closest she’d been to the masked—villain? She wasn’t sure—and he was far more intimidating than she’d first assumed.

His glowing beady green eyes didn’t so much as glance in her direction as he slung Spider-Man over the edge of the building, the tip of one of his wings wrapped around his throat.

An involuntary gasp tore through her chest.

It wasn’t that she was worried about the hero. For one, she knew he was more than capable of fending for himself. It wasn’t even that she cared if he got hurt. He was mostly an annoyance to her, his illusive nature making her job way harder than usual.

But if she knew one thing in this moment, it was that the bird-man was the bad guy, and she couldn’t let him win.

So, she did something really stupid.

She found the closest thing that she thought might actually do any kind of damage—which was, unfortunately, an old bike helmet next to the dumpster—and chucked it at the pair.

It hit one of the metal wings with a pathetic clink and all three of them froze.

Y/N held her breath as the man’s head turned in her direction slowly. Way too slowly. Like ‘I’m going to really enjoy killing you’ slowly.

After that, everything happened impossibly fast.

“Hey! Watch out!”

She barely had time to recognize the panicked voice before she was flying. Her stomach flipped and she couldn’t even scream, overcome with sudden vertigo. She pinched her eyes shut the second she saw the top of a building and clutched onto whatever was carrying her away.

If it was the weird bird guy, she accepted whatever evil plan he had. But, if it was Spider-Man, she was going to kill him.

It must’ve only been seconds before her feet touched solid ground, but it felt like an eternity to her. The moment she felt the stability beneath her, she began fighting against her captor.

“Let me go! Oh my god. If you don’t put me down right now—”

“What the hell—ow!”

Once she was free, she staggered away from him with a huff. She cleared the hair out of her eyes and bent over, resting her hands on her knees as she attempted to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding wildly and her stomach was still doing summer-salts.

She raised her eyes to send a withering glare toward the masked man. “Never do that shit again.”

He stared at her—at least she assumed—for a long moment before taking a step forward.

“What the hell was that? You could’ve gotten yourself hurt.” He gestured wildly with his hands, clearly agitated.

“That’s one way to thank me for saving your life.” Y/N ground out, sounding way more bitter than she would’ve liked.

“Saving my—” The eyes on his mask narrowed incredulously. “You did not save my life. All you did was distract me and put like ten other people in danger.”

She couldn’t help but scoff. “Please. Spare me the morality speech, Spider-Man. We both know you don’t bother worrying about people like me.”

Y/N was all too familiar with how superheroes think. When they’re in the middle of a fight, all they care about is winning. They usually have a bigger mission to accomplish. One that doesn’t concern itself with the lives left behind.

“People like you are all I worry about, trust me.”

With that harsh declaration, a heavy silence fell between them. Y/N clenched her jaw tightly, biting her tongue to prevent the floodgates from opening. Spider-Man wasn’t the only one who deserved her hostility toward superheroes, he just happened to be the one in front of her now.

Instead of speaking her mind, she turned on her heel and stalked away from him. At this point, it was late. The sun had set and her dad surely knew she wasn’t home when she promised. She had to accept that today just wasn’t her day and head back for some damage control.

Peter, feeling his chest tighten with regret for the way he’d snapped, followed closely behind her quick steps.

“Wait!” She actually stopped, something he wasn’t expecting, so he rammed right into her back. His hands quickly wrapped around her biceps as she spun around. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I, uh...”

He didn’t know what to say. This was the second time in one night he’d run into her, but he was still dumbstruck. The circumstances weren’t ideal. He thought he’d lost her earlier, but then she had to go and put herself in danger.

He took a step away from her, dropping his hands and rubbing at the back of his neck nervously. He had to remind himself that she had no idea who he was. Even if he did embarrass himself—like he usually did around her—she wouldn’t know it was him when they saw each other in the halls come Monday.

“At least let me get you home.” He insisted, feeling bad that he’d indirectly kept her out so late.

Y/N pursed her lips, immediately wanting to accept his offer but trying not to give too much away. Truthfully, she was exhausted. She just wanted to get home and deal with the fallout disobeying her curfew would bring so she could get some sleep.

“Alright.” She sighed, pulling anxiously at the straps of her bag. She knew this meant she’d have to swing through the streets again, something she wasn’t nearly ready to do.

Nevertheless, she allowed Spider-Man to walk toward her. She averted her eyes as he wrapped an arm around her back and tried not to let her breath catch when his gloved fingers skimmed the exposed skin of her lower back where her shirt had ridden up.

Warmth enveloped her as his proximity settled in. Under his mask, Peter’s face was burning. This was by far the closest he’d been to his classmate. Or any girl, actually. Not wanting to think about it for a second longer, he shot a web toward a nearby building and followed the directions Y/N yelled out.

Within minutes, they landed on the helipad outside her front door.

Peter felt his stomach drop with realization once he let his eyes wander around the outside of the huge building.

“Oh my god. Is this seriously where you live?” He cleared his throat after squeaking out the question, not necessarily wanting to give away his shock.

“What?” Y/N scoffed teasingly. “Don’t I look like a spoiled rich girl?”

“That’s not—I wasn’t—” He didn’t know what he was trying to say, honestly. There were endless questions flitting through us mind at warp speed.

If she lived here, at the Avengers Tower, did that mean she was one of them? And he just hadn’t met her yet? Or did she work for Mr. Stark? But she was so young. He guessed she could be an assistant or something. Maybe she worked for Pepper? Or Happy? Or, she could—

Y/N rolled her eyes, deciding to spare him the embarrassment of sputtering any more. “My dad is famous...like helped form the Avengers famous.”

Peter’s mind went blank. He wasn’t expecting that.

“Cap?” It was the first name to spill out of his mouth. “Wait, can he even have kids?”

Y/N couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her at his assumption. “He totally can, but no.”

“Oh.” The gears of his brain started turning again and realization slowly dawned on him. He felt his throat run dry as his eyes widened behind his mask. “Oh.”

Shit. This was way worse. He couldn’t believe he had no idea who she really was. Sure, she used a different last name at school, but he should’ve seen the resemblance sooner.

“Look, I know you two have worked together.” Y/N sighed, thinking back to all those weeks her dad was gone fighting Steve and the rest of his friends for no real reason. “Can you just...not tell him about this?”

Peter’s brows furrowed in confusion. Why wouldn’t she want Mr. Stark knowing that she’d been with him?

Either way, he agreed, since he had a favor to ask of his own. “Only if you won’t.”

She gave him this dumbfounded look, and he knew he had to elaborate.

“He made me this suit before the whole thing with Captain America, so I thought he would keep giving me missions, but now it’s been months and he won’t return my calls. I’m lucky if I get through to Happy. He doesn’t want me getting involved in this stuff, so...”

It struck Y/N then how weird it was to hear a superhero talk about her family so casually. It didn’t seem possible that the two of them were in the same circles. Sure, she’d practically grown up with a few of the world’s most famous heroes, but somehow Spider-Man was different.

He was local. And elusive. A pure mystery to her.

“What exactly is this stuff?” She thought back to the weird glowing object in her bag, having almost forgotten it was there.

“I don’t know.” Peter shook his head, seemingly defeated. “I thought it was just neighborhood stuff, but those guns...I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Alien tech.” Y/N said without hesitation, although she wasn’t actually positive that’s what it was. “My dad has some in his workshop. It was leftover from the Battle of New York.”

“How does it work?” Peter found himself asking excitedly, easily pushing all the other revelations from this conversation to the back of his mind.

“I don’t know.” She admitted, looking away from him as her chest tightened with emotion. “I’ve never gotten close enough to any of it to see. He likes to keep me out of things too...”

It was at that moment, as a breath of silence settled between them, that they realized she was still in his arms. Y/N’s face erupted with heat and she quickly pushed herself away from him. Once her feet were back on the ground, they both stepped backward to create some much needed distance.

“I, ah...better get back...”

“Yeah, yeah. I have to go too...”

They looked at each other for a few long moments. It was at if neither of them truly wanted to separate, but knew they had to. It was clear, though, that they’d just formed some kind of connection.

Y/N felt something strange—and wildly inappropriate—brewing in her chest. A certain kind of attraction toward the masked hero she’d never considered before. It appalled her, honestly. It wasn’t like she hated the guy, but she certainly didn’t like him. And she had no idea who he was. He could be eight years old, for all she knew.

With that realization, she turned on her heel and stalked down the narrow entrance to the Avengers Tower, her face still burning. She heard the thwip of Spider-Man’s webbing and knew he’d be gone if she looked back. So she didn’t.

She pressed her hand against the touchpad outside the front door and quickly slipped inside once it recognized her prints. She sighed heavily and let herself fall back against the door, the comfort of home enveloping her.

The peace was short lived, however, as she caught sight of her mother waiting expectantly behind the bar to her left. With a glass of red wine in hand, her knowing gaze shifted from the helipad outside to Y/N’s stiff frame.

She took a slow sip, eyes narrowing over the rim of the glass.

“You’re so grounded.”

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let me know what you think!! should I continue this series??

#peter parker imagine #peter parker smut #peter parker #tony stark #mcufam #original character #marvel #the avengers #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #peter parker series #mcu series #tom holland series #stark reader

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pl-panda · 4 years

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To Marry a Vigilante: Part 17

MASTERLIST || First || Previous || Next

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 17

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The altercation with three footballers had several outcomes. First, Marinette was no longer treated as someone weak. Quite the opposite. The smarter part of the school now had a healthy dose of respect for the small french girl when they saw the camera recording Chloé ‘leaked’. The more sport-inclined part of the faculty was devastated by the loss of the three star players, for which they blamed Marinette.

Erica washed her hands about the whole incident, declaring that the poor souls must’ve just rashly reacted to the gossip going around the school. It still hurt her position a bit. Chloé and Allegra masterfully countered any of her minor lies and started spreading gossip about the head cheerleader instead. It was turning into a cold war, where neither side could get any advantage over the other for long.

The initial background search turned clean on both of them. Lila’s mother was an orphan, raised in one of the covenants in the mountains before studying law and politology. She now headed the French Embassy, after previously working in Germany, Belgium, and Spain. Lila’s father was a mystery and his name was not given at any point. The Italian girl often changed schools. Usually, she didn’t stay even one semester there. Lack of any family and trusted friends made her move around with her mother often. Boarding schools were too expensive for a then-starting diplomat. At some point, Lila started to thrive in each new school. Her files were nothing but praise since then.

Erica Layton was born Erica Blake, then Boyle when her mother married a wealthy CEO. Before, she ran a smaller Blake Industry, which merged with Boyle enterprises after the wedding. When Mr. Boyle was shot during one of the Two-face’s robberies, Erica’s mother started to date again. Until last summer, when she married a star baseball player, Lance Layton. The business was clean-ish and there was nothing that could be used against them really. There were some cases of inner nepotism and a bit of discrimination, but it wasn’t even worth a real investigation. Erica herself was truly a mean character, but her good looks, influential family, and good grades made her the “Gotham Academy Golden Princess.”

Damian wanted to get his vengeance. He tried hacking, but Barbara stopped him. It wasn’t as if anything he got that way could’ve been used against her and forging evidence was wrong, and would only hurt them in the long run. Marinette stopped him from going after them as Black Cat, which only agitated him further. He hated the feeling of powerlessness. Well, he loved Marinette more so he wouldn’t go against her orders.

Sabine also did her best, but she was similarly blocked by Barbara, who went as far as to lock the Bat-computer. A woman of many skills, Sabine was still unable to beat Oracle at hacking. She did make sure to always be available and near the school to intervene if any of the teachers tried to punish Mari unfairly. She was doing the same for Chloé, who she slowly came to treat as her child too, just like Cassandra.

Allegra tried to get her mother involved, but Catherine Hamilton-Kane was a woman of high morals and would not use her influence to fight dirty games. “That’s how corruption took seed,” she declared. And Gotham Academy, as a private school, was beyond her reach anyway. It still gave Allegra enough power to at least counter Erica and her mother, who was at best negligent and at worst co-operating with her daughter.

All in all, Marinette and Chloé settled into some form of routine. The school was much better than Françoise Dupont. It was bigger, which meant Lila had a harder time setting up her court. Erica’s power also suffered a major hit when the ‘outcasts’, as the blonde witch called them, took a bit more active role in the events going around. Claude, who was one of the lead actors in the theatre club made sure that no one aligned with Lila or Erica could join. Felix started to slowly push Erica from politics, engaging in subtle games at every front. Even Jon helped by taking over the school newspaper. The guy that was running it previously happily handed over the reins.

There were few minor dramas at school, like the Witch Club, haunting at the theatre, or the weird carnival. Damian and Marinette didn’t pay it much attention. Claude dealt with the ghost quite easily and met Katherine Karlo, who became his favorite actress ever since. Professor Trent was against including her, but when the usually cheery boy threatened him to quit and take over half of the crew, the discussion was over rather swiftly.

Of course, akumas didn’t make it easier. In fact, they were the biggest holdback. Whenever Chloé and Damian did something too drastic, Lila, Erica, or someone associated with them would become an akuma and then their work was in ruin. Every akuma on their side would earn them ‘pity points’ and serve as ammunition against the Waynes’ front.

The investigation proved fruitless. Sure, akumas could’ve been traced, but they actually made sure to never come from the same spot. Sometimes, it was a rundown building, other times a flat over a crowded restaurant; a hotel; a public toilet at the bus station. Adrien was moving and making sure not to fall for what got his father. They had no idea how he could be so stealthy. The cameras never saw anyone even similar to him at any of those places. Sabine was now running the rooftops as Shadowbat, not wanting the press to associate the Miraculous team with Batfamily too much for now. She had been using her old assassin suit (still fitting perfectly) with a bat logo on her chest as her outfit. She mostly just worked with Cass. Black Bat and Shadowbat. They were probably most feared of all dynamic duos in Gotham. Silent, ruthless, precise, undefeated.

Of course, peace couldn’t really last forever. About six weeks since Christmas, when Marinette’s birthday was closing in, the first real hiccup appeared.

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Just before lunch, Marinette’s phone vibrated, as well as several other people’s in the class. When the bell rang, she went to check it. From past experience, she knew that mass messages to students were usually bad. It had Erica and Lila plastered all over it. It was a link to the tabloid article. It opened with a photo of Damian and Allegra, sitting in a coffee shop and drinking coffee. She only read a bit of the content, far enough to reach the first quote of GA student, before storming out. People were giving her pitying looks as she walked toward the cafeteria. She didn’t want to do anything rash until she spoke to Chloé and Allegra. That was a new kind of low for the Mean Girls front. They even dared to attach a message of fake condolences to Marinette.

Unknowingly, the Bluenette was channeling Damian the whole way, making people jump out of her path. Nobody ever saw the Angel (not that anyone would call her that within Damian’s hearing range, or where one of his multiple informants could inform him) so angry. Suddenly, everyone remembered how she took three football players in less than twenty seconds without getting more than a light bruise on her neck.

The cafeteria was completely silent the moment she entered. Everyone expected her to rage at Damian, who was waiting next to the doors to intercept her immediately. To their utter and infinite surprise, she instead grabbed his hand into hers and squeezed tightly. A small smile made its way on her face and Damian smirked too. Nobody (but the ‘outcasts’) had any idea what that was about. Didn’t he cheat on her recently, or for a long time?

The two walked past the baffled crowd toward where Allegra and Chloé sat, already waiting for them. There were no words exchanged between the four, but the two blondes nodded like it was a signal.

Marinette and Damian jumped onto the table in a synchronized show of grace and agility. Everyone stared at them.

“Hi!” Marinette smiled. Next to her, her boyfriend was glaring at certain people in the crowd. “First, I wanted to thank all of you who actually meant it when they gave me their condolences. You had good intentions, even if they were completely misplaced.”

“Tt. I did not cheat on my Habibti. Not with anyone, and especially not with my cousin!” Damian growled at the silent cafeteria. They didn’t dare to respond vocally, but some lowered their heads in shame. While the relation between Bruce Wayne and Mayor Kane was not that well-known, they didn’t hide the connection. “The first cousin once removed to be precise.”

“Point is, the article is full of fake news and we’ll be dealing with it later. Still, I appreciate your effort.” She smiled at those who weren’t angry. Then, her face turned to the cold mask and she channeled Damian. “Now onto those who mocked us or tried to use it to break me and Damian apart. It won’t work. Stop. Don’t. I can’t see any situation where we would break up, and even then, there is no chance either of us would lower ourselves to dating any of you. I trust Damian with my life. I’m his and he’s mine!” She declared.

“I’m hers and she’s mine.” Damian echoed. They raised their joint hands before turning to one another and sharing a quick kiss. Many people cooed at the romanticism of the scene.

Erica and Lila were on the verge of a stroke. This was harder than either anticipated and they were, in fact, slowly losing more than they gained.

A black butterfly entered through the window behind Marinette. As soon as she saw it, she acted without thinking and grabbed it. Everyone looked at her in panic. They saw the muscles in her forearm tighten and after a short moment a bit of some dark substance leaked through her fingers. When she opened her hand, the butterfly was turned into a gooey mess.

“Not today, Hawkass Junior.” She seethed. Then, she left to clean her hand with Allegra and Chloé following her. She rarely was left entirely alone, especially at school. As they walked, people gave her a loud applause.

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“Why did it not work!?” Adrien raged in his hideout. Next to him, Nooroo was floating with his head bowed.

“She… she touched it only with her skin. There was nothing to akumatize… master.” The little creature added, forced by the magic of the brooch.

“But why didn’t the akuma pass through her fingers!?” The hero-turned-villain seethed.

“She… She damaged it before it could…”

“I paid a handsome sum of money to have that article published! It was supposed to either break them up or give me my own Scarlet Moth!” Adrien stomped around his hideout. “Now it’s all for naught! I want their Miraculouses! I want my family back!”

Another figure walked from behind him and pulled him into a hug. In the darkness, the only visible details were her silhouette and a predatory smile on her face.

“Don’t worry. We will get what we want soon enough.”

“Did you decipher it?”

“Almost. There are several symbols on it that I have no idea what they mean.”

“Hm… I think I might have an akuma just for the occasion. It will require some setting-up though.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll deal with it. Meanwhile…” She said, her grin widening

“No. Get out of here, Witch.” He snapped.

“Spoilsport.” She muttered and walked away. Adrien felt anger bubbling inside him. Someone was so getting akumatized that day.

-------

Masterlist // Next

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writesowhatnext · 4 years

Text

you have to give a dog a name // frank castle

Summary: Frank takes a liking to a waitress at a diner – in Hell’s Kitchen it would never be long before the same waitress gets introduced to the Punisher

Request: just something i’d been thinking of for a while tbh

A/N: love Frankie

Reader: female

Warnings: age difference, violence, assault, swearing, dogs, injuries, guns

part 1 // part 2

Working the night shift at the diner down the street just to earn enough money to survive whilst also trying to get through school was not easy nor ideal. But it wasn’t the worst option. Not by a long shot. Especially not in Hell’s Kitchen, where vigilantes and evil villains ran around like they owned the place. Although, that’s exactly what they did.

You didn’t get what was considered enough sleep; what with half your time spent on night shifts and the other half working hard enough to escape them. So, whilst you stood there, behind the counter, at 4am, you barely noticed the guy in the baseball cap sitting in the booth across the diner. When you did, you fumbled for the coffee jug, dragging it across the counter towards him. He’d been in the diner almost religiously for the last two months – only ever in the night shift between the hours of 2 and 5am. You didn’t know his name and given the city you lived in, chose to ignore how bruised his face always seemed to be.

“Just coffee today?” You asked, pouring him a cup. He lifted his head slightly, only grumbling in response. On the other side of the restaurant, there was a clicking sound from a businessman with a grey suit and an uglier briefcase. He looked at you expectantly, clearly irritated. You bit your lip. Asshole.

“Are you sure I can’t interest you in some breakfast? I make some mean eggs.” He smiled slightly as you sighed. The clicking noise from the man’s fingers just got louder and more impatient.

“No thanks, Doll, just coffee.”

You nodded, offering him your own smile before your face dropped and you were forced across the room to an impatient middle-aged man’s beck and call. You fetched him the cheque, chancing a glance at the clock on the wall. 6am couldn’t arrive fast enough.

To say you were surprised to see no tip when you picked up the cheque from the businessman’s now empty table would be an overstatement of great proportions. You cleared his table, noticing that the man in the baseball cap had also left. However, when you went to retrieve the empty coffee cup from his table, you were surprised to see the face of Andrew Jackson. You frowned, smiling slightly before seeing to the other few-and-far-between customers in the diner at this time.

For the next few nights, you didn’t see the mysterious tipper in the diner. You didn’t think much of it, though. And at 5.30am, you weren’t going to lose the very little sleep you had thinking of it any more. Only thirty more minutes and you could escape and get some rest; well-deserved, you thought. The diner was actually completely empty, surprising for this time. The last customer you’d had (a lady, typing away into a computer for about three hours, that went through around seventeen cups of coffee) had just left. She’d paid in coins, and given a generous tip, but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you placed each individual coin into cash register unbearably slowly. You muttered under your breath as you dropped a couple onto the floor.

As you bent down to pick them up, the bell at the door rang. Heavy, dragged footsteps made you frown but as you stood back, you were pleasantly surprised to see a familiar baseball cap, less so to see fresh bruises and- was that blood?

“Are you okay?” you asked, throwing the rest of the coins into the register and slamming it shut, leaning over the counter. The corner of his lips drew upwards as he sat at the counter, folding his arms in front of him.

“Fine, Doll.”

You frowned and grabbed the coffee jug from the machine, pouring him a cup and sliding it over.

“My name is Y/N.”

“Okay.” He smiled again and you couldn’t help but frown at the purplish hues of his face, the blood peeking out from under his hat. “Are eggs still on the menu?”

You couldn’t hide your surprise at his request but before long, a smile grew.

“Of course.”

He watched you mill around behind the counter, from the fridge to the pans to the shelves underneath the surface.

“Can I get you anything with that? Bacon? Hash browns? Mushrooms? Toast?”

“You’re okay, Doll. Eggs are fine.”

You nodded.

“How do you want them?”

“Surprise me.”

The silence was comfortable and nobody else decided they wanted diner food before six in the morning, fortunately. You were so involved in cooking that you completely forgot about counting down the minutes until your shift was over.

“Voila,” you placed down a place in front of him, not unaware of the way his eyes never strayed from your face. “Two eggs, over-easy. Because it’s my favourite.”

You grabbed some cutlery and a little sauce and seasoning rack and placed it in front of him.

“Thanks.”

You leant on your elbows, trying not to watch him eat but finding nothing better to do. He ate quietly and quickly, not bothering to add any extras. Just eggs and black coffee.

“What’s your name?” you asked. The way he paused didn’t escape you.

“Frank.”

Frank, you thought, definitely suited him.

The phone in the back rang; knowing it would be your boss, you offered Frank a smile and disappeared into the back. After a conversation that was not only unnecessary but about quite literally nothing, you returned to the front. Frank wasn’t there, he’d been replaced by Ulysses S. Grant. The bell above the door rang again as the girl on the day shift arrived. She shot you a sympathetically annoyed glance. You gave her a smile, thankful to be able to finally remove your apron and go sleep.

It wasn’t until thanksgiving that you saw Frank again. It was the night before and ever the gracious leader, your boss had let you leave early. Midnight. Lovely. So, you walked through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen warily, with your key shoved between your knuckles. You were about half a block from your house when you felt eyes on you. Your skin crawled. Walking down the alley, you heard footsteps behind you and the bleakest part of your mind hoped that you were only going to get mugged.

“Where you going, sweetheart?” a voice called out from in front of you. You swerved to the left, quickening your pace. Fuck fuck fuck.

“No need to run. We just wanna say hello.”

You stopped suddenly as a short white guy cut you off. He was smiling. You heard the footsteps behind you get louder.

“I don’t want any trouble-“

“Neither do we, Darling.” The man behind you was closer than you thought.

“Please-“

The man behind you grabbed your upper arm. Your heartbeat was the only thing you could hear, your ears throbbing.

With a strange jolt of adrenaline, you clenched your hand around the keys, jamming them into the man in front’s shoulder. He shouted as you pulled them out, reaching for you. Before he could reach you, the other man twisted you round to face him and he’s toothy smile. Mindlessly, you punched your hand into his face, feeling the keys sink into his cheek. He groaned and pushed you back. The keys dropped from your hand into a puddle on the ground. Fuck. You fell into the other man, hating the way his fingernails dug into your arm.

“You’re a bitch.” The one you had punched in the face spat, his cheek bleeding. The one behind you held you still – not from your lack of struggling – as the other approached. Your bag slid down your arm as you tried to rip your arms away; feeling his harsh grip eat into your arms.

A fist collided with your face and suddenly you were on the floor. A bottle smashed underneath you and you cried out, feeling the glass settle into the skin on your arm. You turned over, tasting blood in your mouth as your head swam. You could hear them talking behind you, chuckling to each other. You pushed yourself onto your hands and knees, your whole chest heaving. You reached for the rest of the half-shattered bottle, fingers skimming the glass surface. Before you could catch your breath, a hand gripped your hair roughly, pulling you to your feet as a cry left your lips. You’d managed to grasp the bottle and as your eyes watered from the pain in your head, you twisted round and thrust your hand into the figure holding you. He fell to the floor and you felt sick at the sight of the green glass buried in his shoulder, blood leaking around it and his eyes bulging.

“What the fuck?” the other man said, looking between you and his friend with angry eyes. You panicked, reaching to the ground to fish your keys from the puddle, hoping to get away. You didn’t get far before a hand gripped your wrist and pulled you back. He twisted your arm until you dropped your keys again. Your cry was cut short when his thick fingers wrapped around your throat and shoved you into the wall. Your free hand reached up to your neck, desperately trying to peel his fingers away.

“You fucking slut.” You moved your hand from your neck to his face, pulled and pushing to try and get him to let go. You clawed at his skin before shoving your fingers into his eyes, pushing until he let go and you dropped to the floor. You couldn’t breathe. Your heart was hammering.

You started to crawl away; your knees were sore against the concrete. Again, you didn’t get far. The same horrible hand caged your ankle and suddenly you were pulled towards him. Your knees sang in pain as you collided with the ground again. You would no doubt have rashes when you got out of this. If you got out of this. He stood between your legs and a different kind of fear overtook you. With nothing keeping you there, you backed away, elbows wet from puddles on the ground. The other guy still hadn’t got up, hand at his shoulder. He was breathing though, which you supposed was good for you.

You saw out of the corner of your eye, behind you, a piece of piping. As he got closer, his eyes predatory and angry, you quickened your pace, trying to ignore the pain you felt in your face, your knees and your neck. You grabbed at the piping as best you could, it spinning away from you as you panicked, still facing him. He bent down again to grip your ankle, dragging you once again, making you wince. He settled on his knees, hands groping up your leg. Your stomach dropped even further. You tried to back away but his fingers dug into your hips. You could feel his breath on your face and you tried to push him away but he shoved your wrist into the dirt behind you. You tried to kick but he knelt on your shins, pinning them down.

With your free hand, you pawed at the pipe, praying you could reach it as his hands strayed to your waist. With renewed panic, your hand finally found the pipe and before you knew it, you were swinging. It struck him in the side of the head; he jolted to the left. He was angry. So, you hit him again, burying into his skull. He sagged on top of you and all you could feel was your breath unable to escape your chest, his heavy body touching your skin. You rolled over. His hand twitched towards you. So, you hit him again. And again. And again. You were crying and sweating and you couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t stop either. Not when his blood hit your face, not even when you were sure he was dead. You only stopped when you heard your name behind you.

You spun around, wielding the pipe roughly, pointing it towards whoever was there. Your heart stopped a little when you saw Frank. His eyes softened at the feral panic in your own eyes. His hands were raised in surrender, showing he meant you no harm. You wanted to believe him but in his right hand was a gun.

“Who the hell-“ the man with the glass in his shoulder began before a shot rang out. Frank’s eyes didn’t leave yours as he pointed his gun. You looked down at the man, briefly noting the way he dropped to the ground. Frank’s hand disappeared behind his back. You watched him tuck his gun into his waistband, approaching you slowly. He noticed your bag on the floor, fishing it out of a puddle, and the streetlight glint off of your keys a good few feet away. He picked them up too.

“You’re okay, Y/N.” he said softly. You dropped the pipe, barely hearing the clang as it hit the floor. You could feel yourself shaking as he got closer but you didn’t move. You didn’t want to see the man behind you. The man you were sure you’d killed. Frank knelt down in front of you, his hands still raised. You absent-mindedly wondered why he didn’t care about his jeans getting wet. You were sure they’d seen worse stains.

“Can you stand?” he asked softly. Looking at him, into his dark eyes, you couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t going to hurt you. So, you nodded. But then you tried. You felt like Bambi as you tried to make it onto two feet. You scrunched your eyes shut as you stood, wobbling.

“I’m going to touch you, okay?”

You nodded again but still winced as his hand rested on your arm gently. His tough, calloused palms were soft above your bruised skin.

“I killed him.” You muttered, over and over again as Frank pulled you slowly and gently into his chest. His arms surrounding you stilled your shaking slightly; you were grateful. You were confused when his right arm disappeared and his other hand pushed the side of your head further into his chest. It hurt briefly but when his hand covered your ear and another gunshot broke the silence, you silently thanked him.

“I killed him.” Frank said softly, his right arm returning to pull you into him. His logic was shaky but you appreciated the sentiment. “Where do you live, Doll?”

You couldn’t reply.

He stopped trying.

Without jostling you too much, he bent down and lifted your legs off of the floor. You were in a trance as he walked down the city streets, away from those men. You only sort of registered being inside, only taking notice when he lowered you to the ground. Still shaking, he didn’t dare move his hand away from your back. A jingling sound rang from another room, getting louder. You flinched. Then a dog appeared. It was a pit-bull with a too-large collar and a wiggle when it walked. A small smile lifted your cheek.

“Go away.” Frank said to the dog. The dog only barked back, coming closer to you with its wagging tail. Frank was about to shoo him out the room when you bent down, patting its head gently. Once again, Frank’s expression softened.

“What’s its name?”

Your voice was hoarse and broken and Frank barely recognised it.

“He doesn’t have one.”

You looked up at Frank then, with an almost teasing smile. You didn’t say anything though; just turned your attention back to the very grateful dog in front of you.

“Come on,” Frank said, lightly touching your arm, unable to tear his eyes away from the already forming bruises. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You left the dog rather reluctantly, following Frank into a cramped bathroom. He coughed slightly. “If you take your clothes off and sit on the tub, I’ll get some first aid shit.”

You were slow to take your clothes off – a mix of embarrassment, pain and unsureness marked every movement. Frank knocked before he returned.

“Come in.”

You were sat on the side of his bathtub only in your underwear. You’d avoided the mirror, already horrified at your injuries you could see. Frank examined you from the doorway. You couldn’t help but feel conscious of his stare.

“I’ll clean up the worst ones.” He said, sitting on the toilet lid so he was level with your shoulders. “I brought you some clothes.”

You looked at the pile of large clothes on the floor and nodded. Silence fell again as he started with your legs, using a wet cloth to wipe away the dirt from the scrapes and rashes on your skin. You just watched his face, too sick to watch him work. Every time he moved to a different injury, he looked at you, his eyes soft, checking if you were okay. You appreciated how such a tough guy could be so gentle. You flinched when he moved your hair to look at the bruises on your neck, more than you had done when he’d painstakingly picked glass from your arm. That was the only time you looked away from him.

Then his hand rested on your chin, holding it in place as he brushed your skin with a wet cloth. You couldn’t tell what you looked like but from the way the cloth became more and more soaked with blood each time he pulled away; you didn’t want to know. When he was finished, he held your face for a moment longer, tucking your hair behind your ear and offering you a smile.

“Clothes are there. I’ll be outside.”

And with that, he left. You could hear the jingling of the dog’s collar again through the door and you imagined Frank bent down, petting him whilst he waited. Frank’s clothes were too big for you but you appreciated how soft they were. Before you could open the door, you caught your reflection in the mirror above the sink and winced.

You were bruised all over and your nose was still raw despite Frank’s attempts to get rid of the blood. You could also see the welt forming on your neck. You could’ve stood there for hours; thankfully, Frank’s gentle knocking pulled you from your reverie and you opened the door to see him leaning against the wall opposite, pit-bull sitting happily at his feet.

“You should stay here tonight.”

You only nodded again before he led you into the lounge. It wasn’t much, with only a TV and a sofa linked to a tiny looking kitchen. You sat down, smiling slightly when the dog sat next to you, eager for more attention.

“Do you want some food?” Frank didn’t strike you as a man with a stocked kitchen. “Coffee? Water?”

“Water, please.”

Frank searched a good five minutes for a clean glass before he decided you’d have to cope with a coffee-stained mug. When he got back to the couch, he found you asleep, his dog sitting on your lap. He smiled. When the dog noticed him, he wagged his tail ferociously but, you didn’t wake up. So, he decided you probably wouldn’t wake up if he moved you. The dog was hot on his heels as he carried you to his bed, placing you under the covers and sending his dog a dry look when he joined you.

“You’re lucky she likes you.” He said to the dog, casting one last look at your face before closing the door and disappearing to spend the night on the couch.

#frank castle #the punisher #frank castle imagine #frank castle x reader #the punisher imagine #imagine #writing

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

HERMIONE'S SECRET

The four of them felt so emotionally strained they didn't know what to do anymore. None of them made a move to stop Harry, they just wanted this done with. The only comfort they had left was that this hadn't happened yet, they still had Sirius right here with them.

Harry's hands were shaking terribly as he went for the book. He couldn't seem to get rid of that fear, that lingering something that told him Sirius was going to die. Then why had he felt so confused when Sirius had tried to comfort him about the patronus...was it possible his instinct was finally wrong? He desperately hoped so with everything in him, it was the only thing forcing his words out.

Dialogue begins, talking of the miracle that no one had died,

Lily made a rasping noise, like she agreed but the thought was to terrible it shouldn't have ever been put into words. She knew whoever was speaking was of course talking about Harry, but it didn't erase that implanted fear that she was soon going to have to hear about Sirius really...

then continuing by praising Snape for having been there.

James snarled, he'd never heard such a ludicrous thing in his life! He was, probably irrationally some higher reasoning tried to protest but he kicked it away, blaming Snape for this whole mess, for what happened to Sirius! If Snape had never showed up then they would have gotten out of there so much sooner, then Remus wouldn't have transformed at that time, then the rat wouldn't have gotten away! This was Snape's fault! He remembered that promise he'd made to Lily, that he wouldn't kill him until they heard everything, but as far as James was concerned this was irredeemable and that Death Eater was dying as soon as he took care of the other one. Now if only they could figure out why they couldn't leave, he really hoped Harry would remember that soon.

Someone, probably Snape, responded with a thank you to the minister.

"The minister?" Lily muttered with the smallest pinch of hope, trying to figure out if he would have shown up just to collect a body, maybe Sirius wasn't dead yet and he had to show up because he escaped again?

The first speaker kept talking, promising Snape would receive an Order of Merlin, First Class.

"I'd roll over in my grave I'm sure," Sirius muttered, then received a very sharp pinch from Remus for that, but he didn't even bother to snap back for it this time, he was still intent on reminding them as much as possible he could still make jokes, no matter how bad.

Then the minister remarked at the cut Snape had, asking if Black had done it?

"Probably," Remus said with just a tad of smugness, vividly remembering Sirius having scraped his head, repeatedly, against the tunnel ceiling and how he would have laughed at that any other time, he'd just been a little too distracted to really appreciate it at the time.

Snape corrected that it had instead been the three students.

'Least I did something useful,' Harry couldn't help but think, still feeling he'd done more harm than good this night. If only he'd been faster and stunned Pettigrew, if he'd stayed out of Sirius' way and let him take care of the rat, instead he'd stood by and let Sirius be caught. If he'd just let Remus and Sirius kill Pettigrew when they'd had the chance they would have had a body and all the proof they needed. Harry knew better than to say anything like that out loud though, because by now he knew they would all try to defend him. Something that still felt a little foreign.

Fudge was shocked at the news, as Snape explained that Black must have used the Confundus Charm on all of them they were acting so irrational.

"No, no, no," Lily snarled. "Now they'll never believe a word you say!"

"They wouldn't have believed me if Snape hadn't said anything," Harry grumbled.

"There's still got to be, something-" Remus tried, but he broke himself off and instead just fell back against the couch, feeling utterly defeated. It was three kids and a werewolf's word against probably Dumbledore himself, what chance did they have? Sirius' only hope was somehow making a run for it again, and that was assuming he was even still alive!

Snape was scoffing at the story put into them, about Black being innocent and something about a rat. Snape did say though that they should still be punished for their actions, as their doing tonight had probably been started by the delusion they could catch Black by themselves.

Sirius made a 'pfft' noise. The ironic thing was Harry hadn't once wanted to 'catch' him. Oh sure he'd wanted to do some other things, but that hadn't been on the list.

He kept going by telling the minister how much Potter got away with at school, and how much it had inflated his opinion of himself.

Lily wanted to argue the point, but the problem was she couldn't. From Snape's point of view Harry had gone the past two years, well even this year, and gotten away with a lot, but that was because Snape couldn't see past Harry to the things he'd done. If Harry hadn't stepped in, unspeakable things could have happened. She was as proud of her son for all of those things as any mother could be, and she really wanted to shove it in Snape's face he needed to get over himself.

Fudge tried to placate him, saying as it was Harry Potter, he should be given some leeway.

Harry had a little scowl on his face as he read that, he didn't want to be handed a blind spot. Sure he didn't want to get in trouble either, but the fact that the Minister had just admitted to this rubbed him the wrong way.

Snape argued back that he didn't agree, he treated Potter the same as any student.

"Ha!" James snapped without any humor, his hand curling up and looking dearly like he was going to deck the wall any second he was so sick of hearing that man talk.

"Where are you anyways?" Remus asked, realizing this conversation had gone on long enough and Harry hadn't said anything, despite his clear look of agitation now saying he would have butted in ages ago.

"Still half out of it," Harry sighed, he vaguely remembered hearing these things as if from a long ways off, and mentally reasoned he must be in the hospital wing.

Adding on that any other student would be expelled for what he'd tried to do, plus dragging his friends along.

"They didn't even do this on purpose," Sirius ground out in frustration, still vividly remembering his attack on Ron, and while he now saw his reasons were justified he didn't think that made it okay. Harry had only come down there out of loyalty to his friend, he'd had no idea what he was walking into. "They haven't even heard your side of it yet and he just knows everything doesn't he!"

Harry had to take several deep breaths to continue without shouting in annoyance of these two men, clearly talking about him within hearing range like this about something they had no idea about.

Snape tallied all of it up,

Harry couldn't quite get that out without sounding like he was being strangled he was so frustrated by that.

and Fudge finally agreed Harry had been rash tonight and perhaps he should be spoken to. Harry was starting to come out of a long, deep sleep, finding himself on a bed and still very tired.

Lily had to fight down the urge to mother her son right now, go and get him some chocolate and watch him eat it, she still couldn't shake away the terror of her baby being surrounded on all sides by dementors with their hoods down, what they could have done to him!

Fudge was still talking, mentioning how shocked he was that the dementors had retreated, and asking Snape if he knew why? He said he didn't, that when he'd woken up they'd all been at their normal positions.

"And good riddance," James croaked, leaning into Sirius just that little bit more, still shaking all over at what they may have already done to his brother. The mystery of who had saved his son's life was still a curious one. He still wanted to ask Harry about it, he'd yet to say anything of who he'd thought he'd seen, but Harry looked just as confused as them.

For a different reason though, because Harry's first thought had been he'd seen his dad. That was ridiculous though, right? But that's who the person had resembled...but his dad was dead. If he wasn't, surely he would have made some miraculous reappearance tonight along with his other friends. Then who had Harry seen? He voiced none of this, not wanting any of them to feel any worse than they already were, and bringing up who he'd thought he'd seen would do just that.

Also telling that when he did find the three of them on the lake, he first secured Black,

Sirius had never heard a better thing in his life! He made the most relieved sound of all, as surely Snape wouldn't have done that if he'd been Kissed already! They were going to send him back to Azkaban, and he could escape before they did it!

They all just got a small moment of jubilation, Sirius was still alive! That's all they'd needed to hear and suddenly they were so sure everything was going to be okay again, things were going to work out! Then they all saw how uneasy Harry still looked, and his reaction to the news still haunted them...and had Sirius really still died tonight?

and then brought them all up here. At the mention of Black's name, Harry snapped upright to find himself in the hospital wing. He could spot Ron still unconscious, but Hermione was wide awake on the bed next to his. She looked petrified,

"Guess Harry would know what that looked like," Remus grumbled to himself, still shifting around and unable to sit still for five full seconds he was so worried about his friend.

at what she was hearing. Harry then spotted the source of the talking, the hospital wing door was cracked open. Madam Pomfrey noticed he was awake, and began towards him with the largest bit of chocolate he'd ever seen, the size of a large rock.

Sirius couldn't help but crack up laughing, wondering if the house-elves had specially made that upon her request, or if she had that on hand for emergencies. She'd probably been saving it up all year just for Harry.

She began chipping away at it as Harry and Hermione asked in unison how Ron was. She told them that he would live and began trying to sooth them, when she cut herself off and demanded to know what Harry was doing?

"Something I couldn't be prouder of," James told him fondly, having no doubts Harry would kick up all the fuss in the world to get Sirius out of this mess. Maybe his son being the Boy Who Lived may finally come in handy, if he spread his own side of the story around enough, surely someone would believe him. Maybe the right person would and look into this and find the truth.

Harry was getting out of bed, and grabbing his wand, telling that he needed to see Dumbledore. Pomfrey tried to tell him everything was okay, they had apprehended Black,

"That's the part that is not alright!" Lily hissed, recognizing Pomfrey didn't know better, but still wanting to curse anyone who said otherwise.

and they would be using the Kiss on him any time now.

Harry let out a strangled gasp, so Sirius wasn't out of the clear yet...and yet he still didn't feel as powerful about that as he had before when he was so sure Sirius was going to die. He was having such conflictions crashing around inside of him, he hardly acknowledged the other's plights of worry as well, just kept reading on, wanting to get his answer already.

Harry shouted in surprise, drawing the attention of those from the outside. Fudge came in asking what the noise was, asking if Harry had any chocolate yet?

Considering how agitated all of them were already at the minister, his concern for Harry didn't hold nearly the amount of weight it should have, the only thing they wanted comforted on now was hearing Sirius was going to be okay.

Harry brushed that off and began trying to tell what had really happened, but Fudge just smiled at him.

"That, is, not, funny," James ground out, fighting every impulse he had not to rip this stupid Ministers face off.

He began to tell Harry that he was terribly confused, and that they were handling everything,

"Let's hope shouting in his face will actually work," Remus snarled, not having any real hope it would, just hoping Harry would get past them and try something else soon.

Harry shouted back that they had it all wrong! Hermione tried to add in as well, but Snape cut them off by pointing out to the minister this must be the story Black had Confunded them with.

"They're not going to listen to a word," Lily moaned. Even if she had seen it coming it didn't make it any happier to hear.

Harry screamed back he knew exactly what he was talking about, but Pomfrey jumped in then by telling both adults they needed to leave, Harry was distressed enough.

"I think he has every reason to be distressed," Sirius grumbled, still fighting down the urge to be sick as the scene kept replaying over and over again in his head of that skull like face coming towards his own.

Harry still tried to fight back, but Pomfrey cut him off by shoving a bit of chocolate in his mouth.

Sirius couldn't help it, that mental image was exactly what he needed to shove his own vision to the side and he cracked up laughing. The other four gave him a touch concerned look, Sirius really had been under so much pressure for so long that they were starting to wonder just how soon he'd start to go crazy. He ignored the looks though, still smirking and shrugging, "What? What adult force feeds you chocolate, it was funny!"

Harry gave a weak little laugh while the others just rolled their eyes at him, far more concerned hearing Sirius made it out of this night alive then his stupid comments for now. Not that any of them would admit his stupid comments was what was keeping them sane, as a constant reminder Sirius was still around to make them.

Then taking advantage as he gagged on it, she shoved him back onto the bed.

"Now she's just being pushy," Remus couldn't help but agree with Sirius, having been threatened a number of times by the matron for trying to sneak out and knowing how she could get if her orders weren't followed. If Harry kept resisting her to her face, things might turn out even worse for him.

Then Dumbledore came in. Harry forced down his treatment and began trying to talk again at once, but was cut off by a now hysterical matron.

"You're the one driving me crazy right now," James scowled, still not able to find the same mood as the other two, he wanted Harry to keep trying to get his point across no matter how futile and she was just getting in the way.

She tried to tell the headmaster to leave, but Dumbledore said that he needed to have a word with Harry and Hermione. He'd just been talking to Black,

"That's, encouraging," Sirius said, not really sure if he meant it. After all, if Dumbledore didn't believe him now, why would telling him all of these things without proof mean anything to him then? What could he possibly say to gain the headmasters trust? Was he wanting to talk to Harry and Hermione to try and lift some stupid curse off of them? When that didn't work, would it be too late for him to realize the kids weren't Confunded?

The others didn't quite know what to think of that either, so no one protested further when Harry kept going.

Snape tried to tell Dumbledore that was ridiculous, and demanded to know if his own evidence counted for nothing?

"Not one little bit," Remus growled.

How Pettigrew hadn't been there at any point he'd seen, but Hermione cut in that was because he hadn't shown up in time to hear that part.

"Actually, you kind of knocked him out before he could hear," Sirius corrected, "which I still thank you for."

Snape turned and roared at her to be silent.

Lily scowled in outrage. How could he still be yelling at her like that! Was he so insistent on seeing Sirius die he'd continuously take it out on these kids, that no other side but his could be right!

"I'm going to rip his tongue out of his head," James snapped, sick and tired of this guy popping up and ruining his loved ones lives every chance he got.

Fudge tried to cut Snape off in shock,

"Snape just did that in front of Dumbledore," James realized, perking up slightly at that. "What are the odds that'll get him fired?"

The others gave a hopeful agreement, except Remus who flinched all over again. Snape had been trying all year apparently to get him fired, he should probably consider himself lucky he hadn't been mentioned along with Sirius about to receive a Kiss. Most likely he was still running around the forest, and now he had the image of a pack of Aurors chasing him down, waiting for him to change back so they could arrest him or worse. He kept his mouth firmly shut though, he'd worry about that later when he heard Sirius was safe.

pointing out Hermione wasn't speaking clearly and she shouldn't be spoken to like that.

"I would honestly laugh at that if I didn't want to smash both of your heads together," Sirius grumbled.

Dumbledore cut in that he wanted to talk to the two alone, now. Pomfrey tried to protest they needed their rest, but Dumbledore was being insistent.

The five of them all exchanged concerned looks, Dumbledore's attitude was kind of scaring them, though the fact that he wasn't outright saying he disbelieved Harry and Hermione was the slightest bit of comfort. They all knew that if Dumbledore believed them, Sirius would have the best defense in the world. Surely he must be able to do something to get Sirius out of this.

She wasn't happy, but Pomfrey did storm back to her office and slammed the door.

"Well she's in a bad mood," Remus muttered to himself.

Fudge agreed he'd wait outside for the dementors to show.

Harry couldn't read that without getting a hitch in his throat, he wasn't going to let that happen to Sirius! For the first time he gained back a tiny bit of confidence, that one little reassuring thought convincing him his first reaction finally had been wrong, he must save Sirius! Terrified of being wrong though, he'd already caused so much pain and confusion by speaking out of these things, he dared not speak anything else.

Snape still didn't move though, demanding if the headmaster really believed Black?

"Someone please let me out so I can strangle him already," Sirius growled.

Dumbledore just repeated he wanted to talk to Harry and Hermione alone, but Snape instead took another step towards Dumbledore.

"No, really, why hasn't he been fired yet?" James grumbled to himself, wishing more than anything he wasn't joking and Snape would get tossed already for the things he'd done to Harry alone, now he'd turned on his two best friends!

Reminding him that Black had tried to murder him at sixteen.

Sirius flinched like he'd been kicked, oh he really didn't want to remember that right now.

James and Remus just looked all the more murderous, something Harry hadn't really thought possible. Both boys were just so sick of Snivellus bringing that up! He'd been sixteen, he'd made a mistake, and he was still holding a grudge for that!* Sirius had even tried to apologize to him! They weren't sure how sincere it had been, since he'd done it after the big row between the four of them and he might have just done it to prove to them he was sorry, but even then Snape had dismissed him and Sirius hadn't tried again.

When Dumbledore agreed he remembered, Snape finally left as well, and Harry and Hermione began at once telling what had really happened. Dumbledore cut them off though,

"Well you did about sum it all up," Lily muttered, hoping Sirius had been more coherent when he'd told Dumbledore all that.

telling them that they didn't have one bit of proof to support that story.

James said something very crude. He didn't want to hear this, he wanted someone to say Sirius was going to be okay, which is why he was so confused when Remus let out a sigh of relief.

He couldn't quite get rid of the look as he eagerly told the others, "don't you see, if he's saying that then this must mean Dumbledore believes him! Why would he say that if he didn't?"

Lily still hesitated, eyeing the book as she pointed out, "why would he believe him now if he hadn't then? Surely Sirius told him all of this back when he was first taken in."

Remus hesitated, his smile slipping away as he honestly didn't have a good answer to that, but he tried anyways. "Sirius didn't realize until after he saw the picture the rat," he still couldn't help but break off with a stutter, he couldn't even refer to him without feeling white hot rage all over again, "was even still alive, he could have put everything he'd said down to a tale until Sirius had seen him that night, Dumbledore knows Legilimency so maybe he pried into his mind tonight and saw the truth then what could have been falsified before." It was only as he finished how loose that sounded, how Remus realized all over again the lengths he wanted to go to defend Dumbledore, and how much it bothered him Dumbledore hadn't believed Sirius then. Shouldn't Dumbledore have simply used Legilimency then, and realized Sirius hadn't been the Secret Keeper, so the rat was the only option? It wasn't adding up, and they all knew it.

The others didn't look any more convinced either, but no one said anything else, so Harry decided to keep going.

The three students wouldn't be able to convince anyone of these things, as a street full of people had put Sirius at his original crime, and Dumbledore himself had told the ministry Sirius had been the Secret-Keeper.

James hissed something under his breath, detesting that there was the proof right there, Dumbledore had not tried one bit to stick up for Sirius, but the opposite!

Sirius looked like he'd rather be kicked this time then hear that. He'd followed Dumbledore's orders without question, been nothing but a good soldier through the worst of missions, and that was his reward! How had Dumbledore looked him in the face and accused him of doing that!

"I don't understand," Harry groaned, watching all of them grow more confused and murderous the longer Dumbledore kept going. "Couldn't Sirius have taken ah, a potion or something to prove he wasn't lying?" He felt like he should know something that did that, but he couldn't place it.

Lily's face was going the same color as her fiery red hair, but she tried to force her tone to remain normal as she explained, "there is something, called Veritaserum, but its use will only work on the unexpecting. If Sirius knew he was taking it, his words still wouldn't hold. It's never used in court, because anybody on trial would be hoping it would be used on them."

"What about his wand," James persisted. "They would have taken it from him, proven that wasn't the last spell he'd used."

"Not indefinitely," Sirius sighed, "I could have used anything in between the time it happened and the time they arrived, since I left myself in the street, I may have been 'pretending I was innocent' by doing it." He did not look the least bit happy at explaining away what the Ministry had done to him, but last night in between the nightmares of his sleep and his future, he'd turned over every last inch of how his case could have gone, and that had been one thing he'd stuck on. He'd stayed around in the street, not knowing why then, but clearly having an idea now. He'd lost several bits of sanity he'd been so pleased with himself for murdering that rat, he hadn't cared what happened next.

"Well, what about those Pensive things?" Harry still tried, feeling this argument was as useless as it could get, knowing it wouldn't make a difference, but still forcing himself to try. "They show memories, right? Couldn't Sirius have shown the memory he hadn't been the Secret Keeper? Even if what Remus said is true and Sirius hadn't known for sure the rat had survived, it still would have shown he'd been the one to blow those people up, that Sirius hadn't been the one to do this."

They, had no answer for him. It was true memories could be tampered with, but even when that happens a gray fog would swirl around to prove such a thing, and Sirius' wouldn't have done that. They honestly had no idea how this could have settled in a court of law proving without a doubt Sirius had done this! They still didn't really have their answers, but now knowing Dumbledore had a hand in it wasn't helping much, his testimony alone would be enough to put anyone away as a Death Eater. Which meant that Sirius winding up in Azkaban was damn near as much Dumbledore's fault as anyone's, for not trying to help a man he'd inducted into the Order, for not doing everything to find all the facts.**

Harry tried desperately one last time, "well my memories then! Pettigrew confessed to me what happened, and they've no reason not to believe me, except..." Harry was already trailing off pitifully as he came to his own conclusion amongst all the heartbroken faces, "except they think I'm Confunded, so no matter what my or my friends memories say-" he broke himself off, unable to finish his throat was closing too tight.

Harry tried to say Lupin could do something, but Dumbledore cut him off that as he was currently running around the forest he wouldn't be helping anyone.

Remus made a gut wrenching noise, still hating himself above anyone else for this mess he'd put his friend in, and still neither James nor Sirius would let him dwell on it, they both gave him a look that plainly said they didn't think it for a second, and it left Remus confused. If they still wouldn't, even after everything he'd done to Sirius, were they really so blind?

He also added on that werewolves were so mistrusted by wizarding kind Lupin's words wouldn't hold credence anyways.

"Which still doesn't make sense to me," Harry grumbled. "Why's he so different than anyone else?"

The others really didn't know how to explain this to Harry. Either his thirteen year old mind still couldn't grasp the concept, or he was refusing to acknowledge it, but either way they didn't want to be the ones to change it. Harry clearly trusted Remus just fine now, he'd yet to show any ill will towards him no matter what was being shown, so they liked to think this never would change and it had remain the later.

Harry tried again, but Dumbledore insisted that Harry could do nothing, that what Snape had said just made more sense.

"I hate this!" Lily howled, looking close to tears she was so frustrated. "I hate this so much, I can't stand it. Why is Snape's the only word that matters? If Dumbledore's word was enough to put Sirius in there, then surely it should be enough to at least hold off on that, that sentence!" It was beyond frustrating, it hurt and confused them almost as much as what that rat had done to them. Sirius was a good man who'd done everything in his power to show he wanted nothing to do with his last name, why couldn't Dumbledore with all his titles and power at least say something to what was happening. Had he really just come there to convince Harry it was pointless to even try?

Reminding Harry that Sirius had not been seemingly innocent at all, what with both of his attempts of getting into Gryffindor Tower.

Sirius face palmed so hard he looked like he was going to leave a bruise on his own forehead. He reflected back to how he'd felt when he first learned of what the rat had done, that all-consuming need, and how it may well have driven him to do those same things now if he could get out of this house, and he still would have kept trying no matter what until Harry calmed him down. It didn't excuse what he'd done, but then again when had he ever thought things through?

Without proof, they had nothing. Harry asked if at least Dumbledore believed them, and he agreed he did,

They all sighed, wishing they could find out why, what had changed to make Dumbledore see now what he hadn't then? If Merlin help them and this all bloody happened to them again, they would have liked some assurances they could keep Dumbledore on Sirius' side no matter what.

but he could do nothing to convince others, nor did he have any real say of what the Minister of Magic did.

Lily and James looked likely to back down, at least a bit. They admitted they may have been too harsh on Dumbledore, been expecting too much of him. To them he seemed the most powerful warlock to exist, Dumbledore could do anything, even go toe to toe with Voldemort himself. But what he'd said was true, Dumbledore himself wasn't magic, sometimes even he couldn't be expected to do everything. The only problem was they'd been so focused on going after their old headmaster, that now the realization had hit he couldn't do anything, they were sinking right back into the fear sucking depression. They just couldn't sit here and listen to this happening to Sirius! They let Harry keep going though, unable to find the air to do anything else.

Harry felt something fall inside of him. He'd been so sure that Dumbledore could do anything,

Remus winced, wriggling in place as he realized he still felt the same way, still wanted to believe the man he looked up to more than anyone could do no wrong...but the plague was still swirling in the back of his mind, trying to understand what had pulled him away from Sirius when he had needed him most, and only one name able to make him do so.

but now even that was gone. Dumbledore then turned his attention on Hermione, and told her what they needed was more time. It took a moment for her to catch on.

"Oh?" Lily snapped. "Oh what? What did he say that made her-"

"You know it's really bloody annoying when a little thirteen year old knows more about what's going on then you," Sirius nodded in agreement, cutting off Lily and perhaps receiving a glare for it but allowing Harry to continue.

Dumbledore then instructed them that Sirius was on the seventh floor,

"Why, would he tell you that?" James asked slowly, some life beginning to return to his face. If Dumbledore was suggesting what he thought...

Harry paid him no mind, his eyes lighting up again with hope finally kindling, he finally felt like he was getting on the right track of what was supposed to happen tonight, something good he hoped.

the thirteenth window from the right of the West Tower.

"Why would he tell you that?" Lily blurted. The room was one thing, but the window was just arbitrary.

Adding on that if they did this right, they could save more than one life tonight.

Remus felt like his brain was dragging five sentences behind, who on Earth, what was Dumbledore, and by the time he formed a question Harry just kept going.

Finishing with a reminder that they must not be seen by anyone.

"By who?" all four of them blurted out as one. True it would be best if they weren't caught helping Sirius, but Dumbledore's instructions were getting weirder as this went on, with no explanation in sight.

Harry didn't have a clue what was going on,

"Glad we're not the only ones," Sirius grumbled, knowing Harry couldn't actually answer them until it had happened, knowing none of them had any good idea so theorizing was stupid, but he never liked to be ignored, which is exactly what his pup was doing.

but Dumbledore ignored him as he walked back to the door, told them he was going to lock them in and what time it was now, and that three turns should do it.

"Why was he directing all of that at Hermione?" Lily said slowly, for the first time in ages thinking of something other than Sirius and his betrayer, her mind circling all the way back to the now childish desire to find out what Hermione had been up to all year. Inconsequential now, as she had much bigger things to worry about, but...did it have something to do with what Dumbledore had told them?

"Three turns of what?" Remus groaned, clearly the others were just as confounded as she was.

The moment he closed the door, Harry asked what all that had been about, but Hermione wasn't listening as she pulled at a gold chain from inside of her robes.

James mind flipped back, remembering back to when Hermione had supposedly dropped a necklace, but what did that have to do with anything?

She told Harry to come closer, and then she put the necklace around both of them and Harry finally saw the end of it, which looked like a tiny hourglass encased in the face of a clock. Hermione began giving it three turns, and then Harry was moving without touching the ground, his feet floating as the room around him dissolved into blurs of color and sound, then his feet smashed back onto the ground with bright sunlight on his back.

"You have got to be kidding me." Sirius finally broke first, and Harry glanced up to see all of them were a wall of shocked faces. He'd been so excited to finally come across what had been bothering him about Hermione all year, he hadn't even stopped to let anyone say a thing, now he almost cracked a smile at how truly gobsmacked they all looked. Sirius wasn't done yet though.

"She's actually been time traveling, all year! That was her big secret, that's how she was getting to her classes! Merlin, she was using time magic to go to classes!" He went from confusion to disbelief in seconds, clearly outraged now. "She could have gotten away with how much trouble, and she was using it for homework-ouch!"

Remus had smacked him, but Sirius' exclamation of surprise had seemed to be mostly that, surprise. Remus was too busy laughing to have put any real force into the action. James wasn't any better, the three looked to have finally cracked and were now laughing like pure idiots.

Lily was slightly frowning at them, honestly happy to see them laughing at all, but failing to find the humor. Though if she was honest she wasn't surprised the first thing their minds had flickered to was how to cause trouble with a thing like this, but she was still far more concerned on how this was supposed to save Sirius' life rather than thinking up ways to prank random people with it. She was still stuck on the fact that Hermione had it at all. Clearly McGonagall had given it to her, but was it really for the sole purpose of attending all those classes? She knew for a fact this wasn't a treatment all Hogwarts students received, though perhaps the invention may not have even been invented yet, she'd certainly never heard of a thing like this. Maybe Hermione was like a test run, to see if all the students could handle a responsibility like this? Finally though she did but in, "well if you lot are done still trying to cause mayhem where it isn't needed, I'd still like to see your arse live through the night."

Sirius sobered up, giving her a little pout which was ruined by the glow in his eyes, since she'd just admitted she actually did care about him. James and Remus stopped more abruptly, minds at once going back to such a bleak future, and Harry really did want to tell his mom off for that, they'd just looked so happy again and she'd reminded them of something he'd been so sure it would take a lifetime to forget. Now they were right back at it, clearly the ideas of whatever had been running through their mind were tainted by the rat they used to include in every little thing. Lily bit at her lip, hard, as she realized the same thing, and regretted her own actions now. She was just so worried about hearing the worst was going to happen, she wanted to hear Harry say the opposite so badly she hadn't really thought her comment through. The silence was back though, and Harry decided to quickly keep reading now.

He looked about his surroundings and found he was now in the entrance Hall, and Hermione grabbed hold of his arm and dragged him into the nearest door. He tried to ask what was going on, and Hermione explained that they'd just traveled three hours back in time. Harry found his leg and pinched it.

James still couldn't help a wobbly snicker, swallowing hard to force back any remainder of pain, his son had lived with magic in his life for three years now but this was hard to believe?

It hurt like it should, which meant he wasn't still dreaming.

"We've seen some weird dreams from you Harry," Remus smiled lightly, "but not even you could make this up."

"Gee, thanks," Harry smirked back.

He tried to say something, but Hermione wasn't listening as she had her ear to the door, saying she thought she could hear them heading out to Hagrid's. Harry tried to ask how they could be outside going to Hagrid's, and in this room at the same time.

"I hate time magic," Sirius said at once, going cross eyed at the thought. His mind finally flipping from the act of doing this, to the act itself. Did that mean that Hermione had been in two places at once all year? When did she catch up with herself, or did she just merge back into one person when her hour was up, or was she living two parallel lives now where the her that had gone back an hour to one class was living a different life then the her living this life now, or- "ouch." He moaned out loud, rubbing at his temple.

"My sentiments exactly," James grumbled, his brow ruffling up in confusion as he tried to work that out.

"Let's just ah, hope Hermione explains it a little better," Lily muttered, shaking her head vigorously to get rid of her own train of thought.

Hermione agreed that's exactly what was happening as she heard the set of footsteps fade away. Harry asked what that hourglass thing had done to them, and Hermione explained it was called a Time-Turner, McGonagall had given it to her at the beginning of the year so she could attend all of her classes, but the teacher had made her swear not to tell anyone.

"The fact that she actually didn't tell Ron and Harry is almost insulting," Remus rolled his eyes. They told her everything, usually whether they wanted to or not. Even if she flat out refused to use it for them for any reason, they still should have known she had something like that.

McGonagall had to work a lot of people at the ministry to convince them Hermione could have it, and Hermione had only ever turned it back an hour before now so she could get to all of her classes, but this didn't explain what Dumbledore wanted them to do now.

"No, no, no," Sirius yelped, bouncing with each word and still looking cross eyed. "You definitely need to explain this mess better, how on earth does the in two places at once thing work?"

Lily was running her fingers through her hair in frustration as she tried, "well, if she spun it back an hour to attend lessons, then continued on her normal schedule lining up with the boys, then it will be like she never left. Time would be on a permanent loop where she never really caught up with herself, because she'd always be an hour, behind herself..." she finished, looking just as confused as when she'd started, not at all sure if she'd explained that in any kind of logical way. The idea of time travel gave her all kinds of confusion, not just because one of the end results was her adult son sitting beside her while the exact same boy at a few months old was upstairs.

The boys still looked like they had a headache from thinking about it, but they weren't arguing the point either.

How was this going to help Sirius? Harry tried to reason out why this exact time, what they were doing three hours ago down at Hagrid's, but Hermione corrected this was three hours ago and they were going down to Hagrid's.

"Don't correct him now," James scowled, rubbing at his eyes and nearly knocking his glasses off his face. "I'm barely keeping up with one of you, don't ask me to make it two."

Harry frowned at her, feeling like he was using every inch of his brain to keep up.

"Glad I'm not the only one," Remus grumbled, his eyes unfocused as he tried to tie it all together and coming up with more questions about how this thing worked, what on earth kind of magic went into making this thing, and many more he knew he'd never get an answer to.

Harry tried to reason out what Dumbledore had said about more than one innocent life, then he realized it meant Buckbeak.

"Wait, what?" It's not like they'd forgotten about Buckbeak exactly, but between everything else that had happened, he'd sort of just slipped to the back of their mind. Now the idea that Harry could go back and fix the injustice done to that animal was a great omen indeed of how this night could possibly go, and the hope was almost back. Harry sounded so excited, so assured this made perfect sense, he really hoped they were on the right track with this.

It made sense, they could save Buckbeak and use him to fly up to the correct room and rescue Sirius, then they could leave together.

Sirius gave a very happy giggle, going back to when Harry had first rode Buckbeak and how much he'd said he wanted to as well, now that was his ticket out of there, this was clearly as close to perfect as he was going to get and he'd take it.

Hermione looked terrified at the thought, pointing out how could they do all of that without being seen?

"Why can't they see themselves again?" James demanded. "Hermione would know what was going on at once and explain it, then get, err, themselves to help."

"James, think about that for a second, what was your first reaction to someone popping up and telling you your future," she said indicating her head slightly to Harry, who was blushing as he realized the same.

James deflated a bit and nodded his agreement, accepting that it would probably be more confusing and more harm than good by the time they tried to do any help.

Harry insisted it was the only way, then let himself out and they made their way down to Hagrid's via the forest, trying to stay out of sight of Hagrid's as Hermione reminded that their other selves would nearly be at Hagrid's by now. Harry was still working on that sentence,

"Yeah," Sirius nodded in agreement, still looking a little spun around at this turn of events. He was grateful at the fortune Hermione had this to help him, but it was still blowing his mind such a thing even existed. He was a pureblood that had grown up with magic and time travel was still giving him pause to consider, he was actually starting to pity Harry.

as they reached the forest and Hermione warned Harry to keep out of sight.

"So she keeps saying," Remus grumbled, wondering how she'd stayed out of her own sight all year, did the rule apply to her, because clearly Lily's theory wasn't totally on track because Hermione hadn't set her time back yet, so she was watching herself who hadn't done it yet...wait what?

They made it to the back of Hagrid's property and heard an invisible knock on the door, watching Hagrid open it and tell them they shouldn't have come, but stepping aside to let them in.

"I'll weep the day he does close the door in your face," Sirius said quickly, a smug smile on his face.

"Padfoot," James moaned, "I tolerate your stupid jokes the first time, don't make me relive those as well."

Sirius didn't look very repentant, compared to how he'd felt the first time he'd heard this, well he wasn't exactly better now but he was certainly more himself, and driving his friends crazy was one of the things to keep him going, keep his mind off of other things.

Harry then said that this was the weirdest thing they'd ever done in their life.

"Yeah, I'm with Harry on that one," Remus nodded.

Hermione didn't seem very bothered by it as she said they should get closer to Buckbeak. Harry suggested they should just take him now, but Hermione reminded that the Committee had to see him first.

Lily balked at the time frame that was being set up, but Harry read before she could make the comment.

Harry protested that would give them less than a minute to sneak Buckbeak away.

"I can't help but agree," Sirius frowned. "It's too bad you couldn't have brought your cloak back, ah Remus had it last right? So you left it out on the grounds when you went chasing after me, which means that probably Snape confiscated it or something."

"That still wouldn't help them much," James disagreed, "there's too much else involved. They'd need a distraction or something in between them seeing Buckbeak and them sneaking him away."

"Well this should get interesting," Remus muttered.

There was a noise inside the cabin of something breaking, and Hermione reminded it was the dropped milk and how she was about to find Scabbers.

That left them all tensed and disgusted, unable to grasp any feelings they'd had at that name before except pure hatred. Harry refused to linger on it though, he wanted to find out Sirius was okay too badly.

Harry suggested they just run in now and grab Pettigrew,

"That wouldn't work," Remus interrupted, "you'd interfere with your own timeline, and you wouldn't find out what you did. You need to let those things play out at least, or who knows what will happen to you."

Harry sighed, thinking he still should have come up with some other solution then just letting that rat get away all over again, but he also knew deep down keeping Sirius alive was more important and he hoped he never lost sight of that.

Hermione shot back that she kept telling Harry they couldn't be seen! Harry said it would only be themselves and Hagrid.

"Which still wouldn't go over that well," Lily shook her head seriously, but she had a feeling Hermione was going to explain so she kept her mouth shut and listened curiously.

Hermione pointed out though that Harry needed to think about it, what would he think when he saw himself? Harry admitted he'd probably think he'd gone crazy, or something very Dark was going on.

"Both perfectly reasonable," Sirius said with a light smirk, both things having flashed across his mind days ago when he'd found Harry in the kitchen.

Hermione agreed that's exactly why people shouldn't mess with time, McGonagall had told her all sorts of horror stories about other wizards that did it and wound up accidentally killing themselves.

"Yeah, I can see that being a problem," Remus said with a slight frown, this didn't make him any happier because he was still waiting to hear how Harry and Hermione did work out how to fix everything, including catching that rat after they were sure Sirius would be okay.

Harry though was thinking of something totally different, for the first time realizing that he was technically doing this now. He was messing with time magic by showing his family all of these things. Could he somehow possibly make his own future worse, was he going to somehow erase himself? It was giving him a splitting headache to work all of that out, and since he didn't even have the answer of how he'd wound up here, he decided to save that for later.

Harry backed down and didn't say anything else until they came out of the cabin, Harry and Hermione watching Ron, Harry, and Hermione exit the back of Hagrid's place.

"I am, actually jealous of this," Sirius huffed, his earlier joke still standing. He couldn't believe Hermione had just been using this for school work all year, the number of things you could be doing with something like this! He really wanted to know how new this invention was, clearly there was a prototype going on as this must be what his drunken memory couldn't remember. How many time magic projects could the Department of Mysteries be working on?

"You would be," Lily scoffed, rather on Hermione's side with all of this, people could do a lot more harm than good with this kind of thing, but since she could also see some practical applications, in the right hands that weren't Sirius' or any of the Marauders honestly, she didn't want to encourage them.

The scene replayed of Hagrid comforting Buckbeak, then demanding the children leave despite their protests.

They all flashed back to remembering how they'd felt so low the first time hearing all of this, their fear of the wrongdoing to Buckbeak and how it still wasn't right, but at least now they had the absolute knowledge Harry and Hermione did have something to do about it, they were going to save that hippogriff.

Harry watched the Hermione in the pumpkin patch throw the Invisibility Cloak over him and Ron.

"Because, you know, that's a thing now," James said, shaking his head loosely to force himself to keep up, this time travel was still giving him a bit of a turn around.

Then the three left, and Harry and Hermione watched as the other people arrived. Fudge told Hagrid they had to step inside for a moment to read some official documents, and when they were all out of sight again Harry said he'd go and get Buckbeak.

"Why?" Lily grumbled, not knocking anyone doing it so long as it was done, but still pointing out, "Hermione at least would have been in less trouble if she'd been caught, you weren't supposed to be on the grounds at all."

Harry just shrugged, saying, "Thought I could do it faster, he already knew me better, was kind of hoping he'd remember me."

Harry darted over to Buckbeak and repeated the bowing to him, and only when it was returned did he go to fumbling at the rope tying him in place.

"It's moments like that when magic really comes in handy," Sirius whispered to himself, having realized several times over Harry's first instinct was to Muggle his way out of things, but a quick little charm to snip away the rope would have done that a lot faster.

Harry could still hear what was going on inside, Fudge reading out the official proclamation of Buckbeak's death, just as he began trying to drag Buckbeak away, who clearly didn't want to go anywhere.

"Oh not now," Remus moaned, "of all the times for this animal to get stubborn!"

"Isn't that how working with animals usually goes," James huffed, going fidgety with unease all over again, not even able to stand the idea of Harry getting caught and Sirius still falling to his fate, having to put every last drop he had left into the belief Harry would come through and fix this via Buckbeak. He was still forcing his voice to come out as normal as usual though, not wanting to freak anyone out as much as he was, "they do exactly the opposite of what you want when you need them most."

The others didn't need him to spell it out, they were all grasping just as much that Sirius' fate now laid in the hands of Buckbeak cooperating, so they didn't say anything further.

Inside the Committee man's voice asked if Hagrid would like to stay inside while they did this, but Hagrid protested he didn't want his hippogriff to be alone.

Lily still couldn't help a little 'ooh' of sadness, even though she was twisting every last one of her fingers in hopes that wouldn't happen, what Hagrid was doing for his pet was the kindest thing.

Harry pulled even harder on the rope, and Buckbeak began grudgingly walking, but not fast enough as footsteps began heading back outside. Dumbledore's voice stopped them though, calling back for Macnair,

Sirius gave a slight sigh of relief, at least Dumbledore was still good for something.

and reminding him he needed to sign the document. Hermione darted out of the trees and began mouthing at Harry they had to hurry.

"It's not Harry who's not hurrying," James huffed.

Together the two kept pulling and Buckbeak finally went into a trot and they made the trees just as the doors began opening behind them.

"That was still pretty dangerous," Remus couldn't help but mutter, shifting around uneasily. "She could have gotten into his personal space without bowing, could have caused a lot more harm than good.

"Well thankfully Harry was good enough," Sirius grumbled back.

Harry looked back and saw they were now out of sight.

They all released a loud sigh of relief, never in their life having pictured the getaway of a hippogriff would mean so much to them.

They could still hear though, the jumble of voices both confused and outraged where the hippogriff could have gone, he'd just been here!

"Ha!" Sirius couldn't help a petty little triumphant shout of joy, thinking that Buckbeak getting away was just one of the things they would be worrying about tonight.

They could hear Hagrid to, but now could tell he was crying with joy that his little Beaky had gotten away as the dull swish of the axe could be heard, the executioner had loped it into the fence in anger.

"Oh," Lily brightened, "well thank goodness for that." She wished Harry had spotted this earlier, she would have felt just that little bit better knowing Buckbeak had never really died in any timeline, but she supposed it wouldn't have made her feel any better in the long run after what she had soon found out after the fact, so let it go.

Buckbeak tried to struggle and pull away from the two to get back to Hagrid,

"Naww," Lily cooed all over again, finding Hagrid's pets loyalty to him speaking volumes for how the man really treated them, though his actions during this whole ordeal had said more than enough.

and the two kids had to struggle and put all their weight into restraining him.

"Yeah, might just be better to try and tie him off to another tree," James frowned, thinking that both kids put together wouldn't even weigh as much as Buckbeak, let alone really restrain him.

Macnair was still in a temper, shouting about how someone had untied the beast,

"Why is that the first thing he thought of?" Remus scoffed. "Him untying himself makes much more sense, he's plenty intelligent enough to get out of his bindings I'm sure, normal horses certainly can. Plus, why would someone even steal him?"

"You are asking the wrong people," Sirius pointed out.

insisting that someone needed to search the grounds. Dumbledore pointed out though that if someone had taken Buckbeak, they wouldn't be on foot, they'd have flown away.

"Glad someone thought of that," Sirius and James grumbled.

Dumbledore then asked Hagrid to come back inside so they could share a drink, which Hagrid was all too happy to do, and the others left as well. Harry asked what they were supposed to do now, and Hermione pointed out all they could do was hide and wait, still looking very shaken up.

"Delayed shock or fear of getting caught I guess," Harry muttered, thinking he probably hadn't looked much better.

Harry suggested they head back so they could see what was going on at the Whomping Willow.

"Don't actually want to watch that again," all three boys muttered, though thinking of three completely different things.

Hermione agreed, though cautioned Harry yet again to stay out of sight.

"Go ahead and mention that a couple more times Hermione, I don't think he's quite gotten the message," Lily rolled her eyes.

They moved to watch the whole scene play out again, Ron catching Scabbers after he'd run off, Ron yelling at Crookshanks to get off of him,

Sirius felt deeply torn, wanting to growl murderous threats for the next twelve years about that rat, yet lingering guilt still eating at him for having attacked Ron. His actions made perfect sense to him now of course, he'd clearly been desperate after the little rodent had escaped him all year, but he didn't think taking Ron with him had really been the best move either.

then Sirius attacking first Harry, then grabbing Ron.

Nope, there it was, guilt won for now. He'd half wished Harry and Hermione wouldn't get there in time to see this, because this was exactly what he'd been hoping Harry wouldn't resee.

Harry winced in sympathy for themselves as he muttered how weird this looked to watch the tree attack them again.

"Yeah, I'm still with you on that one son," James muttered, going slightly cross eyed at the idea of literally watching yourself do something you'd just done that night.

Then Hermione pointed out Crookshanks froze up the tree for them as the tree went still,

"Thank you for the running commentary Hermione," Remus rolled his eyes, thinking they could have worked that out for themselves.

and Harry muttered that they went inside.

"Well Harry's not being much better," Sirius gave a forced laugh.

Not moments later, the group from Hagrid's, minus Hagrid, could be seen making their way back up to the castle.

"Jeez, that timing," James shook his head, very grateful it had happened exactly like that, if Harry and Hermione hadn't followed Ron down in time things really could have turned out worse than they did, if that were possible.

Hermione muttered that she wished Dumbledore had gone down there with them,

"Ah, no," they all muttered with pure hatred at the idea, having no doubts he would have cursed Sirius as soon as anyone, he'd made that quite clear.

but Harry disagreed that this meant Fudge and Macnair would have as well, and they would have killed Sirius on sight.

"Yeah, and that," Remus shuddered, feeling guilty at once he'd thought that of Dumbledore, but unable to come up with a way to take it back, so for now wanting to blame it more on the minister.

They kept watching the spot, seeing Lupin come bursting out the doors, and Harry couldn't help but glance up at the sky where the clouds blocked out the moon.

"The moon wouldn't have peaked by then, he transforms at the set time, not necessarily because of the moon light," James corrected, since this was very clearly the last thing Remus wanted to talk about.

"Besides, Snape would never have brought him that potion so late, he'd bring it to him as early as he could," Lily reminded.

They watched Lupin vanish as well, and Harry voiced that he wished the man had grabbed his cloak,

"Guess I didn't notice it," Remus muttered, thinking he'd had a million other things on his mind then noticing something like that in the shadows.

then voicing that he was going to dart out and grab it now before Snape got it. Hermione stopped him, reminding him he couldn't be seen by anyone.

"He wouldn't be seen, he's going out there to get the cloak to be unseen," Sirius pointed out without any real hope.

Lily shook her head though, pointing out, "it wouldn't really change anything. He still would have barged in there, except instead of waiting until after hearing Remus' story he just would have readjusted things slightly, I'm sure everything still would have happened exactly the same."

"Still would save me the nightmares of him using my cloak," James shuddered.

Harry demanded how Hermione could do this, just watch it all happen again! He then did get up and made to go for his cloak, but Hermione stopped him again just in time,

"I still want to see Snape's timing cursed into oblivion," Remus growled.

as Hagrid came into sight singing,

"Oh, well," Sirius struggled before still saying, "if they hadn't argued about it, Harry still would have made it in time to get under the cloak and Hagrid never would have seen him."

"There really is no point to this," Lily sighed, waving Harry on.

heading towards the gates, an empty bottle in hand. Hermione pulled an 'I told you so' as she went back to restraining Buckbeak who was trying to get to Hagrid again.

This time they all gave a little aww, this time of sadness though. For the first time realizing, Buckbeak couldn't go back to Hagrid. His life may have been saved, but he'd been taken away from his owner in the process, which was pretty sad as well. They realized Sirius would be taking him to get away, but what would he do with him then, set him free? Would he go back to Hagrid then? They really were thinking too hard about this, when each of them were far more concerned with hearing Sirius get out of this mess first, so no one really brought it up.

When Hagrid vanished, Buckbeak's head dropped back to the ground.

Lily still couldn't help one last coo, wanting to go pet the poor thing.

Then Snape did appear, pausing long enough to spot Harry's cloak and snatching it up, much to Harry's muttered disgust.

"My sentiments exactly," James scoffed with a crinkled nose.

He put it on then went into the roots as well, while Hermione sighed and sat down, saying they couldn't do anything but wait now.

"Least we didn't have to relive that bloody conversation," James sighed, rubbing absently at his still aching chest, thinking he could never think about the Shack again without the worst conversation of his life coming to the forefront.

She tied Buckbeak off and then asked Harry why hadn't the dementors gotten Sirius when they had the chance?

"That's still a very good question," Sirius said bracingly, looking for anything to get James mind off of that even for just a second.

James only pretended to look interested, still feeling lost, confused, betrayed and a thousand other things no matter how many times he accepted the fate of the rat.

She recounted what she remembered until she passed out, and Harry explained what he'd seen, right up until it had nearly Kissed him,

All five of them still gave a terrible shudder like they were trying to burst right out of their own skins, that was never going to get any easier hearing either.

when something bright had made all of those dementors leave. Hermione was impressed that a real and powerful Patronus must have done that, then asked who could have done it. Harry didn't want to admit who he'd thought he'd seen, how could it be?

"Well come on," Remus prompted, wanting a real answer this time to keep his own mind on the here and now. "Who did you think it was?"

"Err," Harry muttered, his eyes flickering to his dad and away again he didn't think anyone had noticed, but couldn't come up with anything to say. He was being stupid of course, it couldn't have really been his dad...right? Was it so crazy to believe though, when another dead man had come back to life this night? Was it so absurd to think his father could have as well? Was it right that Peter Pettigrew was the only one to have done so? Deep down though, in the recesses of his gut he felt nothing, no confirmation, no reassurances he was right...but then again he was still having mixed feelings about the last gut feeling he'd had about Sirius so should he even really still trust that? He'd hesitated too long, and still hadn't answered, so with nothing to really say he still read much to everyone else's disappointment. How bad could it be?

Hermione was persistent though, still asking who Harry thought he'd seen, and he finally admitted his dad.

Harry had said all of this in such a rush no one had a chance to interrupt, but once he finally blurted out that part he nearly spat out the end and then cringed like he expected to be yelled at for it, better that then the false hope trying to rear up in his heart, and the hollow echoes of everything else in him trying to warn him that wasn't true.

James was actually the first to speak up though, having to get the words past a harsh lump in his throat he still managed, "I'm, sorry Harry, I just don't see how that's possible. There's no reason in the world I wouldn't have been there for you long before this night."

Harry winced, he'd known that to be true, but still he tried, "we never found out why Remus stayed away, maybe-"

But James cut him off with a steely glint in his eyes, "after what you heard from the dementors," he still gave a terrible flinch at the reminder, "and even then, it's not possible, there's not a thing that would have stopped me coming to get you well before that night. I'm sorry son, you must have just been projecting."

Harry sighed, he knew his dad was right, it just didn't make him any happier to hear.

The others were all avoiding each other's eyes or they were likely to burst into tears, and when Harry recognized he was only making things worse and he probably wasn't going to be having any more a pleasant conversation with Hermione about this, he forced himself to keep going in despondent tones.

Hermione was watching him carefully as she reminded him his dad was dead.

"Thank you Hermione," Lily tried for a biting tone, but she came out more watery than she meant to, leaning in close to her son and keeping her eyes on her husband to make absolutely sure that wasn't true right now.

Harry agreed at once, and when Hermione tried to ask if it's possible he'd seen something else, Harry insisted the man had looked like the old photos Harry had.

That gave them a little bit of a pause, maybe the person had resembled James enough Harry's eyes weren't just seeing what they wanted, but some resemblance, but it still didn't in any way answer the question who on earth it could be.

Hermione was still looking at him as though worried about his sanity.

Sirius let out a noise like he wanted to snort, but it came out too runny. He still managed a half hearted, "gee thanks for the vote of confidence."

Harry admitted he was well aware how it sounded, but he still trailed off into silence. His mind locked on his dad's old three friends, Moony, Wormtail,

Lily and Harry at least tried to suppress their combined loathing and disgust at the mention of that name, but the boys couldn't even be bothered to do that, thinking the little rat had never deserved the title of a Wormtail more than in these last few hours, and yet regretting every second they'd ever even known him, to give him such a nickname that meant so much to them... and if they didn't keep listening to Harry they were going to go into a frenzy all over again.

and Padfoot, was it so unlikely Prongs had been here tonight as well?

Despite James words, it didn't make him feel any better. He knew he was right, there wasn't a force on earth that should have been able to stop him getting to his son those long thirteen years, and yet what he wouldn't give for that to be him, for some reasonable explanation to crop up like he'd been sharing a cell with Sirius or something...anything really then this constant bleak reminder he really wasn't there for his son.

Wormtail

Harry hated having to say that, feeling it came out as foul as the word Mudblood, and he was the one struggling to say it. He didn't want to think how anybody else was going to have to react later if that name ever came up again.

had come back after everyone thought he was dead, was it so impossible for James to have done the same?

James couldn't help but sigh, beating furiously against a little spark of hope wanting to bloom in his chest. Hating himself if he was alive, wishing with everything he had he was, it was going to crack his heart in two soon. Sirius recognized this and leaned his weight against James, giving him a smile that plainly said 'I know exactly the feeling,' at least making James feel just the smallest bit better.

Had he really just been seeing things across the water, the person had been too far away to see properly.

Lily wasn't the only one hoping now that somehow Harry would get himself into a position at the lake, properly see who all this fuss was about, bury the answer whatever it may be already, because this dragging out was going to drive her mad soon.

Yet for just one second he'd been so sure it was him.

Remus made an odd noise, like he was trying to blow his nose quietly, which everyone politely ignored.

Hours later and Hermione was the first to speak again, whispering that they were coming out. Harry looked over and saw them all coming out again,

"That's not the same order as last time," James pointed out, actually pleased to think of something else again.

"I was just listing the lot of them that time, not saying what order they were in," Harry shrugged.

heading back to the castle, and then the clouds began to shift, making the moon appear.

Remus still let out a hate filled noise, like he wanted to chuck himself in the fire place all over again as this had been exactly what he hadn't wanted to relive so soon, he knew he would be for the rest of his life anyways, but Sirius gave him a hard nudge and a stern look stating quite clearly he wasn't going to listen to that this time anymore then the first, so Remus still had no choice but to let it go for now.

Hermione was watching Harry tense up, still cautioning him he couldn't do anything, and

Harry snapped back he couldn't just let Pettigrew get away again!

James was grinding his teeth together so hard he was likely to be toothless here in a few minutes, but he couldn't help it. He'd have that image burned into his brain for his lifetime, the little rat scampering away into the dark without a glance back over and over again, and this was exactly what he hadn't wanted Harry to see all over again.

Hermione demanded how Harry was supposed to find him anyways?

"I can think of several options actually," Lily snarled, then winced and tried for a more normal tone, and though she failed she still kept going. "You could have gone up to Remus' office and snatched the map, you've snuck around the castle enough it wouldn't have been impossible, then grabbed him while waiting for Sirius to get put up."

Harry just sat there gaping at his mother, as this hadn't crossed his mind at all. He'd spent the hour to busy going over that moment in his mind, trying to place those pictures he had of his dad to his memory and convince himself it was real. Now he realized not only how wrong the idea was but he'd let up a perfect opportunity to catch the rat and put him away instead of Sirius going on the run!

"Sorry Lily, but I don't honestly think Hermione would have let him get away with that," James said quickly, anything to get rid of that look now on Harry's face. "She'd be too afraid of them getting caught, and without the cloak there really was a big risk of it. They were stuck where they were."

Harry at least looked a bit relieved and not nearly as guilt ridden.

Lily clearly hadn't meant to do it, she was just as frustrated as the rest of them and wanting to think of something to do rather than sit around and think about Sirius being Kissed all because of that traitor, but she'd wanted to take the words back as soon as they were out because of how Harry had instantly blamed himself for not thinking of that. Her son clearly had some issues with blaming himself for everything, something she really hoped he didn't carry all his life, or at least someone talked him out of like they were trying to.

Reminding him they were here to help Sirius, nothing more. Harry was forced to watch as the moon covered them, and Lupin began to change.

Remus made a guttural noise, hating how casual Harry actually managed to make that sound, still blaming himself no matter what anyone else said that this was all his stupid fault, but keeping it to himself enough all he received were looks for it this time rather than another speech from one of his friends.

It was as Harry watched this that he yelped they had to move, now! Hermione tried to protest, but Harry reminded that the werewolf was going to dart off right towards them!

"It's going to be fine," Harry quickly added on the second he'd finished that, watching Remus look likely to pass out again. "We're both fine, I promise-" he winced and went to shaking nearly as badly as Remus, but both quickly forced themselves to settle down. Both coming to the realization getting past this was much more important then continued dwelling on it.

Hermione began helping Harry untie Buckbeak, whispering frantically where they could hide, and Harry suggested Hagrid's place.

They all released heavy sighs, it wasn't the best solution because Hagrid could be back at any time, unless he went down to Hogsmeade to continue getting drunk rather than the castle so they'd have a bit more time, but they'd still much rather Harry tried to get to the lake and see this mystery person rather than continue delaying.

They sprinted back there without a problem, slamming the door shut behind them.

Remus gave one last terrible flash of what could have been before forcing it away, thankful he'd never even come in sight, or hopefully if the worst had happened and he had come after Harry, Buckbeak would have been a better target. He'd hate to be the cause of Buckbeak's death, even more so when he realized that it would make it all the more difficult for Sirius to escape, but then he realized he just kept creating what if scenarios and tried to shut his brain off.

Buckbeak at least seemed happy to be back, he walked right over to the fireplace and curled up at home.

"Least someone's in a good mood," Sirius muttered.

Harry waited a few moments before voicing he was going to go out again, keep an eye on things under Hermione's suspicious glare.

"Can't rightly blame her at some point," James said happily, perking up as he wondered if Harry was thinking what he was.

He promised he wasn't going to do anything, but he had to keep watch for when Sirius was put up. Hermione agreed, but cautioned him that now there was a werewolf and dementors roaming around, and begged him to be careful.

"Thanks for the reminder," Lily muttered, still wanting to clutch up her son and never let him go for all the trouble he seemed to get himself into.

Harry agreed and went back out, taking the long way around back to the lake, promising himself he didn't want to do anything, just watch who had saved him.

"Yes!" They all yelped, more than happy to hear this. James was right of course, there was no way it was him...but at least they got to hear whoever it was.

He began running full force, his mind only on his dad, he had to know it was him he'd seen.

James still looked like he wanted to burst into tears any given second, what he would give to actually be there for both his son and brother in that moment of need, but unable to explain away just what couldn't be possible.

He found a bush on the edge of the water and hid inside of it, with the perfect vantage point.

Funnily enough this wasn't making them feel better, as they now knew exactly where on the lake all of this was happening. There weren't too many bushes so near the water's edge, which meant the next time they went up to visit the school they could never look at this spot again and would instead feel yet another flood of memories that would drown them all.

Harry watched as the dementors began encircling him, Sirius, and Hermione, muttering under his breath for his dad to hurry up and get here.

James couldn't repress a high pitched, keening noise, throat tight as he desperately wanted to go for his wand, to do just once what Harry needed of him. Sirius wriggled as close as he could and put an arm around him, silently promising him it would be okay, Harry was safe now. It didn't erase the want, but it did make it bearable.

Nothing was happening, the dementors broke past Harry's attempts and began lowering its hood, and no one had arrived, no one would.

They all went terribly stiff, wondering if possibly Harry and Hermione had accidentally somehow changed something, what would happen if that happened in Harry's past? Would he cease to exist in the Time Turner's present? Time travel was making this a whomping headache, and Harry reading now was the only thing keeping them in their skin.

Then Harry realized he hadn't seen his father, but himself.

"Wha-" someone tried to interrupt, but Harry went from confused and, though he wouldn't admit it, disappointed to bright eyed understanding as he kept going. Now that he fully understood what had happened, he just knew something spectacular was fixing to happen, something that meant the world to him.

Harry jumped free of the leaves, and shouted the spell Expecto Patronum with everything he had, and a bright silver animal burst forth.

'He did it' they realized, feeling the combination of shock at such a powerful shot of magic at his age couple with the still lingering smack in the face that he'd been the one to chase all of those dementors away, plus it wasn't James at all but a very near look alike! All of that left them with failed voices while Harry quickly read.

He watched it gallop across the water and encircle the other three until the dementors had vanished, then it came back to him, its hooves leaving no imprints on the sand. It only paused for a moment, but Harry was able to look upon a stag.

Something finally stirred James out of his shock, as he struggled to get out, "you, did see me?"

"I saw the next best thing," Harry breathed, watching his dad closely like he feared at any second he was going to disappear in a mist of silver as well, for the first time really putting that goofy nickname with the proud animal, comparing the ghost of his father's animal to the man he saw now and knowing he could finally treasure the image in a way he never thought possible. He'd been so desperate to find some part of himself in James, and now he had the best thing of all.

James still looked likely to pass out or burst into tears any moment, he'd never felt such a combination of things in his life. Pride, his son had actually produced such a powerful spell to drive away so many dementors, shock and glee it was his own animal he treasured so much. It was like he truly had been there for his son right when he really needed him.

He finally managed to whisper 'Prongs.'

Sirius cracked. He had to stuff his fist in his mouth to stop himself ruining the moment the two were clearly having, but he couldn't help it. He caught Lily's eye and managed to get out, "you know this means you can't call him Hare Bear anymore. He's not a rabbit, or a bear, or whatever the bloody hell that was supposed to mean. He really would turn into Prongs Junior."

"Why do we keep you around again?" Remus demanded, watching all three of them give him annoyed looks, but Sirius either didn't notice, or didn't care, he was still too busy laughing.

"I'll call my son whatever I want to," Lily shot back, "now shut it Sirius or I'm going to wish they'd left you in the stinking cell."

Sirius didn't look very repentant, if anything he just kept smiling wider he was just so pleased at finally getting some form of good mood into him, and keeping it.

He reached out as if to touch it, but then the image faded away, and Harry heard more hooves behind him,

That gave them all a quick start, what else could happen tonight!

it was Hermione dragging Buckbeak along, demanding to know what Harry was doing! Harry quickly began to explain,

"Okay wait, back up," Remus demanded, making a remind motion with his hand. "Are you telling me that everything you just did, you already did?"

"And am going to do," Harry added on, going cross-eyed at the thought.

"I guess that kind of makes sense," James muttered, scrunching up his brows. "It goes along with what Lily said about time being on a permanent loop, kind of."

"It's still giving me a headache to think about," Sirius grumbled still trying to work out in his head how Hermione had been pulling this off all year.

and when he was done he watched Hermione's mouth fall open. Her first question was if anyone had seen him,

"She's not been nearly as quick on the draw as usual tonight," Remus pointed out, still rubbing at his temple as he tried to work out this mess in his head.

"Leave her alone," Lily sighed, just wanting this night to be done with.

and Harry pointed out yes, he'd seen himself, that's what he'd just told her! Hermione was still shocked, pointing out how advanced that was.

"I haven't even gotten over my shock of that happening," Sirius agreed, nodding along vigorously.

"No wonder you were so adamant about your ability to pull it off," Remus laughed.

Harry agreed he knew he could do it, because he'd already done it, didn't that make sense?

"Nope," all five of them muttered together. Sure it made sense in context, but the actual act of doing it, being able to pull off the feet, because he'd already done it, was still giving them mind spins.

Hermione got distracted by Snape.

"What did he do now?" James groaned.

Harry looked back around and saw the potions teacher arriving with a stretcher supported by his wand, and he quickly conjured three more for them.

"When did he get his wand back?" Sirius asked. "I must have still had it on me, otherwise he wouldn't have stayed suspended when I transformed."

"You must have dropped it," James shrugged, "and it took a few moments for the spell to wear off."

They watched all of them vanish, and then waited a few moments longer wondering how long it would take for Sirius to wind up in his designated room.

"I doubt they gave me a tour of the castle in the meantime," Sirius muttered, as anxious as anyone to hear himself go, well not free, but at least free of that place.

Then Harry saw a glint of something silver, and recognized it as Macnair's axe on his belt as he ran for the dementor guards.

"Does he carry that thing around with him everywhere?" Lily asked in disgust.

They knew Sirius must be up there now, so Harry and Hermione mounted Buckbeak.

"Least you've had practice with this once already," James sighed.

Harry kicked the hippogriff into flying mode, and they took off with Hermione squeaking in displeasure that she did not like this.

"Why did Hermione have to come at all now?" Remus couldn't help but worry, not exactly wanting to leave her alone near the forest either, but worrying about how many people Buckbeak could hold. "Normal horses are only expected to carry two maximum, there couldn't be that much room up there."

"It was better than losing time backtracking for her later, we were on a deadline," Harry shrugged.

Harry was still gaining air, going up to the proper tower and counting windows, before coming to a hovering stop in midair.

"I am really curious who trained Buckbeak," Sirius couldn't help but say with admiration. "I guess I can see Hagrid doing this in his spare time, but still, I can't imagine Hagrid could ride him very well, it would have had to be all ground training."

"Perhaps some of the seventh years might have done it as a pet project," Remus offered with a shrug, Kettleburn had always been big on encouraging his students to do hands on work with their favorite beasts.

Harry peeked inside and saw Black, and gave a quick smack on the window to get his attention. It worked, and his jaw dropped.

Harry couldn't help a quiet giggle, letting it form into full blown laughter after a moment. He hadn't been able to indulge in it then, but the utter relief he felt, the assured feeling that Sirius was going to survive this night was finally being lifted, and the shock crossing his features then had been comical, he couldn't even remember if he'd ever told Sirius the whole story of how he'd pulled this off.

He leapt from his chair,

"Genuinely surprised he wasn't restrained," Lily admitted. Even without his wand, she found it surprising he'd been free to walk the room. Had Dumbledore possibly done this for him, after he'd been convinced?

and tried to open the window, but it was locked shut. Hermione quickly fixed that, and the first thing he tried to do was ask what was going on.

"Boy that's going to be a fun retelling," Sirius laughed right along with Harry's good mood now.

They weren't going to spend the time explaining, telling him to get on and to hurry, which he quickly did.

"You always did know it was better to ask questions later and roll with it for now," James nodded.

They went up to the nearest tower, and Harry and Hermione quickly dismounted, telling Sirius to get a move on before he was found gone. Buckbeak was twisting around, ready to take flight again.

"Think I should just consider myself lucky he's not trying to throw me off and attack me," Sirius muttered, thinking it must be the same thing as it was for Hermione, Harry's presence was enough of an assurance for the hippogriff.

Sirius asked what had happened to Ron?

"I knew you cared," Harry chuckled, watching the shame reappear on his face now at that reminder, but having already been reassured it wasn't permanent he tried to let that one go, hopefully Ron wouldn't hold a grudge.

Harry promised he was going to be fine, now Sirius had to get out of here. Black still wasn't moving though, watching Harry.

"Though he never was good at following orders," Remus muttered, shifting his weight around, as anxious as anyone to hear Sirius gone, and staunchly ignoring himself being left behind, and what could happen because of that. He deserved whatever became of it, he'd happily take the fall for Sirius, it was his fault that Sirius' name hadn't been cleared this night.

He began to say he could never thank them enough, but both kids cut him off with a yelled go!

"For once Sirius, listen to someone else's advice," Lily groaned, receiving an eye roll for her troubles. She couldn't help it though, she almost felt like a fool as she remembered back before all this mayhem had really kicked into gear, back in the Shrieking Shack when Harry had reassured that no one died tonight. She should have remembered that of course that would extend to Sirius, Harry must have just been overreacting to the situation of hearing Sirius about to die, it couldn't possibly be a memory trying to return. Surely her son was just being as emotional as all of them at the thought.

He did turn Buckbeak towards the open sky, but his final words to Harry were that he was truly his father's son.

Harry blinked a few times before blushing deeply, now realizing that Sirius saying this could be given no higher praise. Sirius was still smiling at him, thinking he'd never said truer words as he eyed the man now who so resembled his brother in every way that mattered.

Then he kicked Buckbeak, who took flight again, and as they watched, he was gone.

Harry finally released a heavy sigh of relief, closing the book and announcing, "chapter was over, think there should only be one left."

Sirius looked so worn he didn't look like he wanted to hear anymore. He still hadn't absorbed everything that had happened since that stupid prediction. It now made sense, he'd finally gotten his answers, and he hated every single one of them. He'd never wished so much in his life for something to not be true, to learn that even now he'd had to rely on Harry to get out of trouble rather than the other way around. He felt so useless and like he'd failed the lot of them for still having suggested the ruse in the first place that had set them all on this path.

He was given a jolting distraction though, by Lily taking to her feet, marching over to Sirius, and pulling him into a bone crushing hug as she murmured, "thank Merlin you're safe."

He returned the hug indulgently, giving her a comforting squeeze as he promised, "I'm going to remember this the next time you're yelling at me."

She predictably leaned back and smacked him for that, but there was absolutely no force to the blow.

Sirius really did want to change the subject now though before anyone else could start trying to hug him, and was saved by Harry.

"Can I see it," he demanded eagerly. Harry couldn't help the tone though, he was still blasted from shock. He'd been searching for something other than physical possessions that would concrete his proof that the man across from him was his father, looking for any kind of real connection, and he found it in his Patronus! Of all the animals in the world, he had the fortune to get the same one as his own dad!

James didn't even need to ask what he meant, as he got up and backed several paces away, and before Harry's eyes he began to change. It wasn't like watching Remus change, which had seemed horrifying and painful. James made it look smooth, as natural as breathing as his face elongated, his clothes began to vanish, and with a small pop he was down on all fours and still managing to meet Harry's eyes.

The stag was majestic, there really weren't too many other ways to say it. Even standing there in the middle of a dull living room, his dark black melanistic fur gleamed, though didn't quite cover everything as he also had some white tracing from the tip of his nose and circling back in a mockery of the glasses covering his face. Even the dark gleaming black eyes held familiar hints of hazel. The three tips sprouting out prominently from each prong had little bits of fuzz on them, giving him an almost cute look despite the danger Harry was well aware that they could possibly run him through.

Harry took a hesitant step forward, like he wanted to reach out and pet the fur much like he'd done all those years ago except now to the real thing, but he didn't get the chance as a bark caught him off guard and something even darker smacked into his knees.

Not to be outdone, Sirius had transformed along with James, but had instead chosen to pounce on Harry in a fit of playful enthusiasm so that Harry could really see what they got up to in these moments.

Harry took a few startled steps back before laughing at what he was seeing. It was the first time he'd seen the pooch in proper lighting, and he recognized he hadn't been exaggerating the size at all, Sirius was quite a huge beast in bulk, but the pink tongue lolling out the side of his mouth and the swishing tail gave every indication he may as well be looking at a puppy and not a bear. Padfoot looked far younger and healthier than Harry had memories of, properly weighted with gleaming fur as healthy as his real hair and the calm gray eyes Harry had grown quite accustomed to looking at.

Not to be outdone, Prongs wasn't letting him have all the fun as he nudged him in agitation, which Padfoot easily dodged and ducked down like he was asking to play.

"Not in the living room," Lily scolded, walking past the pair to head for the stairs. "We don't need any more broken furniture-"

"You broke the last one," Remus protested for his friends, which Lily ignored as she vanished.

The two animals gave a very obvious 'pout' persona before with a small pop they turned back into men.

"That was so cool," Harry practically squealed, feeling like a little kid as he ogled the two.

James and Sirius exchanged very superior smirks, more than pleased that they had impressed the boy like this, and for the first time in his life James understood the feeling of how being praised by his son could feel.

HPHPHPHPHP

In case I didn't say it enough in this chapter, I hate time travel. I have hated every time travel plot I've ever come across, and before you can say it, yes. Ever. Single. One. Even my most beloved Harry Potter book. I can't help it, my overanalyze everything brain just comes up with too many questions that never get answered, and I just end in headache. This was my least favorite chapter of the whole entire series, even if the end results was Sirius getting away, and I'm sorry if that came across as lackluster as I felt this chapter's reveal was. I want it to be better, I was just having major struggling issues, and I am sorry for that, but I don't know how to fix it either because every time I tried I got caught up in more mind bending questions.

Yes I do acknowledge this is technically a time travel plot line, but the one thing I will grasp on is when these kinds of things happen and changes occur. There will be an AU after this, consequences to Harry messing with the past. What Harry and Hermione did blows my brains because of the permanent loop part, where it never ended and it's still going and there's a Harry and Hermione who are just now starting to go back just as they arrive and gah!

Hope you guys enjoyed the last part at least. Deer's aren't naturally black by the way, which is why James is melanistic, which means an unnaturally black animal, like the opposite of albino. I love fan art, and while I greatly admire the way other people do him as a natural deer, the other animagus' we've seen seem to have their animals naturally resembling their human coloring. For example McGonagall's tabby cat, tabby only means black stripes on a cat, like McGonagall's black hair going gray.

Also, please don't think I'm a total Dumbledore hater, I respect a lot of the hard decisions he had to make for the good of everyone, it's just easier to hate the face then a lot of the nameless faceless people who also had to have interacted with the Ministry and Dumbledore to make a lot of these things happen.

*I really don't have a lot of defense for what Sirius did, as it's clear he knew full well what he was telling Snape to go do, but I don't really think it should be counted as a full blown attempt at murder either, because it's not like he forced Snape to go. He taunted him, like telling someone to jump off a building to quite bothering you. You shouldn't do it, but people are stupid and Sirius shouldn't have his whole life ruined because of it. Since we never get the full story, from what I can gather Sirius told Snape if you poke the Whomping Willow you'll see what we get up to, and Snape did, but James found out and stopped Snape who still saw Remus transforming.

**I've shown several times that I dislike what Dumbledore's done, but this one thing really broke my heart. For the reasons I've stated it's clear Sirius couldn't absolutely prove he didn't do it, but his evidence should have shown some doubt that he hadn't! Of course we all know Sirius wasn't even given a trial to prove otherwise, but the fact that Dumbledore hadn't seemed to care one little bit just really confuses and bothers me about him.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #PoA #Marauders #reading the books #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #James Potter #Lily Potter

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maria-scribbles · 4 years

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glitter + crimson (let’s start a riot)//part five

summary: in the aftermath of hurricane agatha, the pogues are thrown into a mess none of them are ready to deal with. things that don’t exactly top sailor’s ‘fun things to do this summer’ list: surfing in the middle of a hurricane, getting punched in the face by a stupid kook, and stumbling upon a mystery that turns her and her friends into the damn scooby gang. when she said she wanted an exciting summer, she should’ve been more specific. 🙃

word count: 8.1k+ (it just keeps getting longer and longer 😅)

ship: jj maybank x oc (sailor flynn)

warnings n stuff: mentions of abuse/neglect/gambling addiction, child abandonment, anxiety, self-worth issues, jj being both soft af and hot for his best friend, weed usage, underage drinking, unresolved sexual tension, sailor being thirsty, swearing, guns, fighting, blood, that one trope where two characters only call each other by their nicknames/last names until they don’t because of ~reasons~ that makes me lose my shit every time (like a lot of the obx fandom, i also headcanon that jj stands for jesse james), references to the three stooges (jj=moe, pope=larry, and john b=curly and that’s a fact lmao), to all the boys i've loved before, avengers infinity war, and david attenborough, and a line heavily inspired/influenced by taylor swift's "dress" (a song that happens to be on the playlist for this series)

a/n: we’re finally entering canon territory, y’all (with a few tweaks, of course!) but i’m determined not to make this a rehash/retelling word for word of the show ‘cause that’s just no fun, so expect smaller pieces (vignettes, i guess?) of storytelling as i expand on canon with sailor and the rest of the pogues. think of it like a mixtape of sorts, but with words instead of music if that makes sense lol. this part originally covered episodes one and two but i wrote so much that i had to split it, so we're just covering most of episode one for now (i still can't even believe how much shit actually goes down in the pilot lol). i was veryyyy excited to write the kegger at the boneyard 'cause some ~juicy~ stuff happens there lol. fun fact: the title of this part is a term used by surfers to refer to getting up at the ass crack of dawn to hit the waves. as always, this is unbetaed so any mistakes are mine. enjoy!

gif credit to @jj-maybnks

~Masterlist~

part five: dawn patrol

The next morning, Hurricane Agatha hits the island with all the force of a knockout punch; the sound of rain pounding against the roof echoes impossibly loud throughout the Chateau but Sailor’s bewildered shriek is even louder.

“You’re gonna what the what?!”

John B shrugs as the stunned redhead, lounging on the couch, looks away from watching the storm and fixes him with a wide-eyed stare.

“I’m gonna surf the surge.”

“Hell yeah, bro!” JJ yells from his spot as her footrest, punching his fist in the air and she sends him an exasperated look, both at his enthusiastic encouragement of John B’s downright moronic idea and the fact that she already misses the feeling of his thumb drawing circles on her bare ankle.

“Are you two insane?”

“Possibly.” John B states, grinning when JJ follows that up with, “Absolutely.” The blond boy pushes Sailor’s legs off his lap as he stands which earns him another displeased scowl from the redhead. “Come on, Sail. Live a little.”

“Oh, I’ll live alright, but you idiots won’t,” She takes his offered hand, letting him pull her to her feet and then down the hall after John B as she continues, “because this is the dumbest idea you’ve ever had.”

“See, this is why we keep you around,” He replies, laughing when she dodges his attempt to ruffle her hair and dashes forward to beat him to the spare room. “We do something stupid, you and Kie read us the riot act. It’s tradition.”

Sailor grabs her long-sleeved rash vest -if she’s going to sit on the beach to keep an eye on these fools in the middle of a damn hurricane, at least she’ll wear something that offers a little bit of warmth- and heads to the bathroom to change. “Yeah, and then I’m there to patch you up when you inevitably hurt yourselves.”

“Can’t help that you have that healing touch.” His cheeky response floats through the closed door and she catches herself smiling -wide and just a little bit sappy- in the mirror.

After a quick detour to pick up Pope, who’s already drenched from sneaking out his window, the pogues (sans Kiara who never answered John B’s text in the group chat and, knowing her parents, was probably on hurricane lockdown) head to the beach, where the rugged gray surf hammers against the shore with unrelenting brutality. Sailor trails behind the others as they grab their boards and make a break for the water, blatantly ignoring the barriers that read ‘beach closed’ in large, impossible to miss letters. A few hundred feet down the coast, she can barely make out The Sandbar all boarded up for the storm and she thinks of her mother, wondering if she's riding it out inside or at home; either way Carmen's all alone and Sailor's stomach twists with guilt, both for letting her phone battery die so she didn't have to answer her calls and for leaving in the first place, even though it was the right thing to do for her damn sanity.

“These signs are here for a reason, guys!” She calls over the howling wind, squinting through the rain at the rough waves with her hands tapping uneasily against her thighs. Watching John B run into the ocean with reckless abandon (Pope following with a little more caution, thankfully) immediately puts her anxiety on edge so she sits down heavily on the wet sand, wrapping her arms around the knees pulled to her chest and looks up at the blond boy who stayed behind. “Aren’t you gonna join the other stooges?”

JJ shrugs at her question, glancing out toward their friends before dropping his board to the ground and taking a seat behind the trembling girl, his chest to her back. “This one can’t just leave you hanging out here all alone, lookin’ all sad and shit. It’s kind of pathetic.”

“Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel special, J.” She smirks and scoots back in the sand, lips curling into a full-fledged smile when he lifts his arms to drape them over her shoulders. As he tucks her securely against his front, the warmth of his body helps ward off the biting chill of the rain, and so does the fact that he knows her so well, that he knows this is exactly what she needs to help calm the panicking butterflies in her stomach.

He leans close, lips brushing against the shell of her ear when he whispers his next words like a secret, low and just for her even when there’s no one around to hear them. “Trust me, Sail, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

She suddenly finds those butterflies in her stomach fluttering for a whole different reason.

The Chateau sits in complete darkness, the power having been knocked out since they returned from dropping Pope off at his house that afternoon. Sailor thinks it’s about ten at night as she lies on her back on the mattress of the sleeper sofa, listening to the wind rip through the trees outside with Binx curled up at her feet. The spare room was way too hot without a working fan, even after she braided her hair off to the side and changed into a crop top and shorts, so she and JJ had returned to the living room where it was cooler, if only by a little bit.

John B has already retreated to his room for the night; he’d been acting quieter than usual since their little adventure at the beach but between a lantern-lit dinner of semi-stale cereal and passing a joint around, she never got the chance to ask if he was okay before he made his escape. JJ lies beside her with his limbs all askew and from the slow rise and fall of his bare chest she’s 99% sure he’s out like a light until, out of the blue, he mutters into the stagnant air, “Can’t keep your eyes off me, huh?”

She blinks heavily -that weed must’ve hit her harder than she thought because she hadn’t even realized she’d been staring- when he lazily turns his head to stare back, a halcyon grin on his face and in the dark, his pupils are blown so wide she can barely see the blue of his irises. Her hand itches with a longing to sweep that one stubborn strand of hair away from his forehead but instead she blindly slides it to the left until she finds his and holds on tight; his fingers automatically lace with hers even as the space between his eyebrows furrows and the smile falls from his lips.

“Sail?”

“I don’t think my dad’s ever coming back.” The redhead’s mouth blurts before her brain can catch up, heavy words lingering like a storm cloud ready to downpour. The thought had been weighing on her heart for a while now, from when she’d first suspected it two months ago, and it feels bittersweet to finally admit it out loud, even when she hadn’t planned doing it.

Her bedmate is silent for a long time as he looks at her through the shadows and she focuses on the touch of his palm against hers instead of the awful mounting pressure behind her eyes -hadn’t she promised herself she was done crying over her dad?- until he asks quietly, “Why? I mean, good riddance 'cause he's kind of the worst, but why?"

“A feeling,” She murmurs around the sudden lump in her throat, biting the inside of her lip hard enough that she tastes the metallic tang of blood on her tongue. “He...he usually comes back after a month or two but this time it’s been almost five.” A bitter laugh escapes from her chest and she shakes her head. “I guess he finally decided he’s done dealing with my worthless ass.”

JJ’s eyes flash like lightning as he rolls over to face her, the hand not entwined with hers reaching up to cup her cheek. “Sail, shut up. Don’t you dare say that.”

“Why shouldn’t I? It’s true,” She says sharply, words acerbic and biting and full of a self-hatred that’s been poisoning her heart ever since she was old enough -eight and far, far too young- to discern the way her dad’s love for her was fickle at best, non-existent at worst. “I could’ve been a better daughter- a perfect daughter- and he might still be here and my mom wouldn't hate me. I should’ve tried harder-”

“Jesus Christ, Sailor!” He interrupts, calloused yet gentle thumb wiping away the tears she just now registers sliding down her cheeks and the shock of hearing her full name come from his mouth makes the rest of her vitriolic thoughts fly out the window. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

The image of him blurs through the darkness in shades of black and she closes her eyes, jaw clenched in an attempt to quell the tremble of her lip as he goes on in his low, soft voice, “You should’ve tried harder to do what, huh? What could you have possibly done better?”

She’s quiet for a long time, so long that her tears run dry and all that remains is smeared salt on her skin because she doesn’t have an answer. What could she have done? That terrible thought in her mind rears it’s ugly head again, the one that tells her she’s not good enough, that everything’s her fault because she doesn’t do enough, but when she asks it what more she can do, there’s no reply. There never is.

“Hey, look at me.” She hears the rustling of sheets and feels his fingers slip from hers before they come to rest on her cheek, both hands now cradling her face; she opens her eyes to find him hovering over her and the sheer lack of distance between them makes her heart skip a beat. “You...”

“What about me?” Her voice cracks as she speaks and in a mirror of her from earlier, JJ shakes his head, causing that stubborn strand of hair to once again fall into his eyes.

“I wish you’d see yourself the way I do.”

Her breath catches in her throat. “And how do you see me?”

“Fucking amazing.” He says simply and in the dark, she can barely see the flush slowly starting to creep up his neck. “Smart, brave, and loyal as hell. A beautiful badass who doesn’t take shit from anybody. A girl who listens when someone needs to be heard.”

The redhead stares up at him with wide green eyes as he goes on and on, listing all these wonderful little things that her traitorous mind has a hard time processing, let alone believing; he really thinks about her like this? “You care so damn much,” “You’re kind but not afraid speak out,” “You’re the one I trust the most.”

Her hand slowly releases its tight grip on the sheets and slides up his bare arm, feeling the heat of his skin under her palm as she touches his face, not trusting herself to speak because she’s so afraid of saying something dumb or stupid and ruining everything ('like I always do,' her mind echoes).

“You’re my best friend, Sailor, and yeah, you’re not perfect. You drink and you smoke weed and you don’t get straight As in school but fuck, you’re real and so not worthless.” He says each word with such conviction that its impossible not to believe him, as much as her brain screams at her not to. “And I want you to know that what your parents think of you doesn't matter at all, got it?"

Without warning, she flings her arms around his neck and JJ loses his balance, falling onto her with a soft oof of surprise but Sailor doesn’t even feel the extra weight as she rests her face against his shoulder and finally finds her voice. “Thank you.”

He takes her with him when he rolls onto his side, arms wrapped tight around her waist and nose buried in her messy braid. “Just...trying to do the right thing, I guess. For once.”

She pulls back at his words, then leans forward and slowly presses her lips to his flushed cheek, just missing the corner of his mouth. She lets them linger for a beat longer than necessary before leaning back -not too far, just enough- and looking him in the eye. “Thank you, Jesse.”

He usually hates being called by his first name (she found that out pretty quickly into their friendship, “never call me Jesse” being one of the first things he ever said to her) but he just looks at her with a soft, endearing smile on his face as he leans back onto the bed, once again bringing her with him. “Promise me something, Sail?”

She glances up at him from his shoulder and meets his eyes. “Yeah?”

His fingers tuck an escaped red curl behind her ear. “Just...be you. Don’t worry about what anyone else thinks.”

She wishes it were that easy, that she could just step inside her mind and flip a switch and she could stop all those thoughts that’ve plagued her for years but it’s not. It’s gonna take time -time and a lot of patience and maybe even a miracle- but damn it, she’s gonna give it her all, not just for herself but for him and the rest of the pogues, too, the best friends she's ever had, so she nods and settles back down at his side. “I’ll try my best, J.”

“I know you will.”

"Sail, you're the best swimmer out of all of us. Think you can dive down there and check it out?"

The redhead peers over the edge of the HMS Pogue and into the water, where the murky shape of the sunken Grady-White sits thirty feet down on the bottom of the marsh, then nods at the rest of the pogues, an excited grin on her face.

"No problem," She answers John B, hopping up onto the very tip of the boat's bow with practiced ease before diving headfirst into the water to JJ's yell of "diver down!" It's dirtier than usual because of the hurricane but she doesn't let that stop her as she swims down and down until she reaches the top of the boat and pulls herself the rest of the way onto the deck, carefully scanning the area for...fuck. Honestly, she's got absolutely no clue what she's looking for but she assumes she'll know when she sees it.

'It' turns out to be a motel key, resting all alone on the floor by the steering wheel and she quickly reaches out to snatch it, sliding the silver key ring around her finger securely. When she pushes off toward the surface, she leaves the ghostly Grady-White behind with more questions than answers.

The rest of her friends are lined up in a row along the boat's railing, all staring at her with near identical expressions of anticipation as she breaks through the water and holds the key aloft with a triumphant smile.

"The Summer Winds Motel called, they want their key back!"

A little later that evening, Sailor would really regret finding that damn key but right now, she's having a great time dancing at the Boneyard with Kiara at the traditional post-hurricane kegger, second refill of beer in hand, spiked with Fireball from the flask tucked in her back pocket. To her, dancing's a lot like surfing -steady feet, swiveling hips, snapping shoulders- and she thinks that might be the reason she's so bad at it, anticipating the fluidity of water instead of the solidness of dry land. Or it could be that she just doesn't have rhythm when she's a little buzzed. That works, too.

"Ow, Sail!" Kiara winces as the redhead steps on her foot again, rolling her eyes fondly when she throws her head back with a loud, tipsy giggle.

"My bad, Kie!" She twirls in the sand, hair dancing around her shoulders like fire, and finds herself spinning right into a herd of dancing tourons, all too drunk to care that she's spilling her beer all over their feet. Large, olive-skinned hands grab her waist to spin her again and she laughs, smiling over her shoulder at a cute dark-haired touron as he slides one palm over to settle against the bare skin of her lower back. She pushes one hand on his shoulder with just enough resistance that he doesn't get too close into her personal space as he leans in to speak in a low Southern drawl, brown eyes turned a pretty bronze in the glow of the nearby bonfire.

"This probably isn't the best thing to say to a beautiful girl but you kind of dance like a giraffe."

Sailor bursts out laughing at that. "Hey, I think giraffes are very elegant creatures so I'll take that as a compliment!"

The boy grins and she smiles, too, letting him take her free hand and pull her into the throng of dancing bodies. He's almost as bad a dancer as she is but he's fun to talk to and together they gleefully show off their worst moves until their feet hurt -she's lost count of how many times she stepped on his toes- and her solo cup is empty. "Come on," She says and this time, she's the one to grab his hand and lead him over to the closest keg, where John B's dishing out beer with an expert flourish.

"'Sup, Sail," He lifts his chin in greeting as he fills her cup, smirking when she immediately pulls out her flask and adds a long pour of Fireball on top. "Who's your friend?"

"JB, this is Adam, he's visiting from Tennessee. Adam, meet John B, one of my best friends and a total moron," She makes quick introductions, smiling into her drink as he scowls and playfully sprays some beer at her feet before filling another cup and holding it out to the other boy with a jab at her expense.

"Be careful around her, man. She's a handful."

The touron accepts the drink with a shrug and a quick wink in her direction. "Good thing I happen to like 'em a little crazy."

Ugh. More than a little miffed at that, she rolls her eyes and takes a long sip of beer to hide her annoyance when Adam laughs and slings his arm around her shoulders. Calling her a giraffe was actually kind of cute in a very weird, endearing way but he instantly lost whatever points he had with her the second that 'c' word came out of his pretty mouth. She glances around the Boneyard while the boys start talking about surfing (she scoffs to herself, what does a farm kid from Tennessee know about that?), scanning the crowd for the rest of her friends and a chance to ditch him. Kiara's sitting on a big piece of driftwood, chatting up a stunning, deeply tan girl with glossy black hair -she waves when their eyes meet and shoots Sailor a cheeky grin before returning to her conversation- while the ever awkward Pope seems to be stuck in the middle of one of his rambles about autopsies as he stands around the fire, the willowy blonde beside him looking more and more uncomfortable by the second. She'd deliberately lost track of JJ a while ago, after she watched him getting a little too close to a tiny brunette, his hand low on her back as she passed him a drink and ran her fingers up his bare arm, coaxing that killer smile of his onto his face (that girl may have gotten his smile but Sailor got his eyes and they watched her until she pointedly turned away).

Honestly, she's a bit -okay, a lot- peeved. Here she is, thinking that they're the closest they've ever been before (they've always been close, ever since that day in sixth grade, but this is a whole different kind of close), and just when she feels like she may finally be ready to admit some things, some feelings, he's off doing who knows what with another girl; to be fair, she's off with another guy that she'd, until a minute ago, fully planned on kissing, but that's only because of him! Him and some weird need she has to keep him looking at her, to make him jealous -she shakes her head and takes another swig of her whiskey-spiked beer. Nope, nope, not gonna think about that.

Poor Pope looks like he's really struggling so Sailor pushes all thoughts of her blond best friend from her mind and goes to rescue him, ducking out from under Adam's sweaty arm and walking away without a backwards glance, ignoring the confusion in his voice as he calls her name. She pushes through the crowd to her friend and steps right in front of the girl he's trying to talk to, grabbing his hand with her free one.

"Come dance with me?"

The smile of pure relief that breaks out over his face makes her own widen as he lets her pull him back through the mass of bodies to a less-crowded part of the make-shift dance floor, the tension bleeding out of his hunched shoulders with every step.

"You're an angel, Sailor."

She laughs and wraps her arm around his shoulders, leading him in a carefree twirl across the cool sand. "Tell me something I don't know."

Like a leaf caught up in a whirlwind, he's helpless to resist her infectious joy as they dance, grinning like fools and poking fun at each other; for a while, the redhead tries to forget about stupid, clueless boys and focuses on Pope who, while still a clueless boy, doesn't expect anything from her but pure, unconditional friendship that she's all too willing to give (although she did have a teensy little crush on him when they first became friends, she got over it pretty fast the second he started talking about the bodily functions of dead bodies in explicit detail). She shares her drink with him, giggling at the way his face morphs from curiosity to disgust to delight at the taste of her cinnamon beer concoction and lets him down the rest while she drinks straight from the flask that she pulls from her back pocket.

"You've got a shadow." Pope says, slightly nodding his chin over her shoulder and she takes his hand again, slowly spinning herself under his arm to take a quick glance, rolling her eyes when she spots Adam staring at her from the edge of the crowd. "You know him?"

"Unfortunately. Thought he was cute, then he called me crazy." She tucks the whiskey away with a shrug at her friend's sympathetic wince, then steps closer to him and raises a conspiratorial eyebrow. "Wanna help me tell him to take a long walk off a short cliff?"

"Uh-"

"I think I can help with that," A familiar voice cuts off Pope's reply as JJ suddenly appears at her side, slipping his hand into her back pocket to spin her right into the circle of his arms before he plucks the flask from the other and takes a big sip in one smooth kinda sexy move. "Straight Fireball? Damn, Sail."

The redhead carefully schools her features into a blank mask but her body has other ideas, one hand instantly settling on his chest like it's second nature and her face flushing from more than just the alcohol as she casually replies, "You know I like things a little spicy." Completely aware of the way he's watching her every move, she snatches the whiskey back and downs the little bit that's left, trying and failing to ignore the thrill that shoots through her at those bright blue eyes of his darkening when her tongue darts out to lick her lips. Pope rolls his eyes at them both before muttering a quick 'see ya' and hastily melting back into the crowd.

"So, who're we telling to fuck off?" His voice is just a little strained and she feels her cool facade start to crack as she scowls, subtly tilts her head toward where Adam's still staring at her with an expression that looks like he ate a sour lemon. JJ spins her around to take a very conspicuous peek and her mouth curls into a grin, mask breaking completely when he shoots the touron a glare that screams 'try me, I dare you'; the heat from his hand still in her pocket burns as he leans in until his forehead rests on hers. "Let's give him a show."

Sailor hums and pretends to mull it over even as she coyly snakes her arms around his neck and pulls him closer, the harder panes of his body sliding almost sinfully against her softer curves as they sway together, "I don't know, you looked pretty cozy with that other girl earlier..." Is it kind of petty to bring it up? Yes, yes it is, but she can't resist toying with him like he did to her, just as she can't help the breathless gasp that escapes her lips when his fingers press hard into the toned flesh of her ass through her shorts.

"Why, Flynn, are you jealous?"

"Please, I saw that glare you gave him. If anyone's jealous, it's you, Maybank." She fires back while carding both hands through his hair and the pure gratification she feels at his slight shiver is nothing short of euphoric. Out of the corner of her eye, she barely takes notice of the frown Adam sends their way before he turns and stalks off toward the other side of the beach; honestly, she's so caught up in JJ and everything about him -the slow swing of his hips, the hands burning hot against the strip of her back exposed by her crop top, the darkened look in those ocean eyes- that she'd completely forgotten about the touron she danced with earlier in an effort to forget the boy she's dancing with now. She should've known it wouldn't have worked: Sailor could never forget JJ, no matter how hard she tries. He's like a permanent mark on her, a tattoo inked in gold, a beautiful, wonderous scar that she never wants to fade away.

"Seems like we scared him off so I don't have to worry about that anymore." His flushed face is so close she can feel his breath on her lips as he speaks and her eyes quickly flick down to his mouth on their own accord.

"And what about me?" She asks, twirling her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, heart beating fast in anticipation as he smirks wickedly at the way her own face turns cherry red.

"Sail, babe, you don't have to worry about a damn thing."

All one of them has to do is tilt their head and everything will fall into place and she can once again know what it's like to kiss him-

"Let it go, Topper!" A sudden, annoyed shout breaks the two apart before they can close that final distance (Sailor's not sure who would've made the first move and she's both relieved and disappointed they won't get to find out), turning away from each other in tandem toward the gathering mass of bodies chanting 'fight, fight!' at the shoreline.

"JB, he's not worth it!" At the sound of Kiara's voice, they take off running across the sand and shove their way to the front of the crowd just in time to see Topper Thornton in all his frat boy glory get absolutely slammed with a hard punch to the jaw, courtesy of John B. The kook barely hits the ground before he's back on his feet and lunging forward to tackle him into the water, landing a hit of his own square in the eye.

"What the hell happened?" Sailor grabs Kiara's elbow and the dark haired girl looks at her with wide eyes as the boys continue to roll around, exchanging brutal blows while a stunned Pope watches from her other side.

"I don't even know, they just started wailing on each other!"

JJ stands silent to Sailor's right, jaw clenched and hands curled into fists as he stares at the brawl and she reaches over to wrap her fingers around his wrist, thumb calmly running circles on his skin.

"Top, seriously! Stop it!" Sarah Cameron stands in the sand just before the crashing waves, yelling furiously at her boyfriend and throwing her arms in the air when he ignores her. "What is wrong with you?"

The moment Topper lands three punches in a row on John B's battered face, Sailor decides she's seen enough. She rushes forward without thinking to grab the blond boy's arm, pulling as hard as she can in an attempt to get him off her friend and barely has time to register what's happening when the fist he was aiming at John B suddenly swings at her. It connects solidly with her left cheek and makes her stumble back, her hand flying to her throbbing face before she goes down hard onto her butt in the surf.

"What the fuck, Thornton?"

"Did you just punch a girl?"

"Ohhhh shit!"

A cacophony of voices yells from the shore as the kook boy stares down at her, momentarily stunned when he realizes who exactly he hit, and it gives John B an opening to wrestle him back into the water and land a solid punch right to his nose. Everything happens so fast after that that the redhead, still reeling in a wide-eyed daze, has a little trouble keeping up. First, Kiara and Pope splash through the waves to her side, kneeling down to help her to her feet with their arms around her waist. Second, Topper gains the upper hand and straight up tries to drown John B, holding his head under the water while Sarah screams at him to stop. And third, JJ -reckless, bold, protective JJ- pulls out that damn stolen gun, effectively bringing the whole mess to a grinding halt when he stalks forward and presses the barrel to the side of Topper's head.

"Your move, broski." He threatens and the beach is so quiet everyone can hear the click of the safety being switched off. The kook slowly raises his hands in the air and John B emerges from the water, stumbling forward onto his hands and knees with a horrible wet cough.

It's all too much for Sailor's poor tipsy self to take. The world spins beneath her feet as her head starts to pound and her shaking fingers fail to find purchase on Kiara's and Pope's shoulders.

"Guys, I don't feel so good," She manages to whisper and their looks of concern (the former) and panic (the latter) are the last thing she sees before her legs give out and everything goes black.

The first thing she registers is the pain that radiates from the left side of her face, her whole head throbbing with every beat of her heart and the sound of loud whispering right by her ear isn't helping at all.

"That's the best you can do, J? Seriously?"

"The power's out! I can't exactly pull ice out of my ass, Kie."

Something semi-cold gently rests against her cheek and she audibly sighs at the little bit of relief she feels, her hand sluggishly rising to hold it a little closer as she mumbles, "I wouldn't want your ass ice anyway." At least she tries to: her mouth feels like it's full of cotton and she's pretty sure the only thing that comes out is unintelligible gibberish.

Sailor opens her eyes and finds herself lying on her back on the sleeper sofa at the Chateau, a passed out John B to her right. Pope sits on the edge of the mattress by his side, holding a beer bottle to his friend's black eye and he sends her a relieved smile when he notices she's awake.

"There she is," JJ says from her other side and she turns to face him, not at all surprised to find him already looking at her, and the unabashed concern in his eyes sends a golden warmth through her whole body. Her fingers slip down the hand that's still holding the bottle to her cheek so she can run her thumb over the delicate bones in his wrist in a silent thank you.

A different, softer hand rests on her knee and she tears her gaze away from his face to smile at Kiara as she says, "Good to see you're okay, Sail."

The redhead sinks back into the pillow in embarrassment and covers her eyes with her free hand. God, she really passed out, didn't she? She passed out after taking one lousy punch to the face by a fucking kook, no less. How completely mortifying. She swallows thickly and sounds like a chain smoker when she says, "I'm so sorry, guys. I'm a total idiot."

The other three conscious pogues start protesting all at once -apparently there's many, many, different ways to say she's not an idiot- and the resulting volume of their combined voices is enough to make her headache even worse. She sits up and scoots back until she's propped against the couch and sets the now warm beer on the side table before massaging both of her temples.

"Will you please shut up, I can feel my brain beating in my skull."

For a second, there's wonderful, blissful silence and then:

"Holy shit, thank you," A groggy voice says to her right and she turns to watch a bleary-eyed John B claw his way back to consciousness. "You guys are fucking loud."

"He lives!" JJ shouts, ignoring the four glares sent his way and reaching over to clap his hand against the brunet boy's shoulder. "Welcome back, dude."

"Ugh," He suddenly rolls onto his stomach -Pope deftly catching the bottle when it nearly falls from the bed- and his muffled voice floats out from the pillow he shoves his head under like an ostrich in the sand. "Knock me back out."

"Aww, poor baby." Sailor gives his back a sympathetic pat and chuckles softly when he blindly feels around for her arm, pushing it away with another deep groan and a 'fuck off, Sail' that lacks any type of venom.

"Okay, now that you're both kind of conscious, let's agree that neither of you will ever fucking do that again. Got it?" Kiara addresses John B and Sailor as she stands from the bed and crosses her arms, fixing the latter with a piercing look that makes her feel like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar; she opens her mouth to defend herself but before she can say anything, Kiara turns her furious gaze to JJ and points an accusing finger at his face. "And you! What the hell were you thinking pulling that damn gun out, huh?"

"Jesus Christ, Kie!" He suddenly rockets to his feet and throws his hands in the air. "Sail got socked in the face and JB was getting fucking drowned, I wasn't really thinking much at all!”

The dark haired girl can't seemed to think of a response to that and looks away, staring at the floor with her jaw clenched as Pope, ever the mediator, rises to his feet, too, and rounds the bed to step between them placatingly.

"Let's just drop it for tonight, okay? They need to rest." He says, nodding toward the two still on the bed before wrapping his hand around Kiara's elbow and turning her toward the front door. She immediately pulls her arm from his grasp but still nods in agreement, the hard look in her eyes softening when she glances at her injured friends.

"Yeah, okay." She says and glances down at her watch, wincing when she catches sight of the time. "My parents'll kill me if I'm not home soon, anyway."

"Come on, I'll take you guys home." JJ says with a conciliatory look in her direction as Pope tosses him the Volkswagen's keys from his pocket and when she nods back, a small smile pulling at the corner of her mouth, Sailor knows that all is forgiven, at least for now.

"Are you sure you're good to drive?" She asks and immediately rolls her eyes at his sarcastic reply of "Yes, Mom," and the obnoxious wink he shoots her.

The trio leaves after a quick round of goodbyes and John B waits until he hears the sound of his van driving away before finally emerging from under the pillow and rolling onto his back.

"Sensing the immediate danger has passed, the ostrich cautiously pulls its head out from the sand..." She says in her best David Attenborough impression, laughing when he tosses the pillow at her head with an amused grin.

"Ha ha. I was trying to avoid getting a Kie lecture," He explains, running both hands down his face with a heavy sigh. "It feels like my head's gonna explode."

"You and me both, dude." She carefully probes at her swollen cheek and is more than a little surprised to feel the beginnings of a scab forming near her eye. She knew Topper landed a solid punch but she didn't realize how solid that hit was until now as she catches sight of the tiny bit of drying blood left behind on her fingertips.

"That looks like it hurts. You okay?" John B asks and she looks up from wiping her hand clean on her shorts, stiff from dried saltwater, with a wrinkle of her freckled nose.

"I'm alright. How about you? No offense but your eye looks like shit."

"I'll live." He answers with a shrug as he pulls himself upright on the mattress and leans his head against the back of the couch. "Thanks, by the way."

"For what?"

He sluggishly turns his head to look Sailor in the eye and shrugs again. "For trying to help me out. Sorry I got you punched."

She smirks and reaches over to give his hand a brief, friendly squeeze as she replies, "It's not your fault I got myself punched. I'm sorry your ass almost drowned."

He snorts at that and she's relieved to hear it, knowing that he can still joke around and he's not, like, completely traumatized or something. Poor guy's already got enough to deal with without adding a mental breakdown to the list. She swings her legs over the edge of the mattress and slowly stands before taking a tentative step forward; when her knees hold and she doesn't fall flat on her face, she makes her way to his side and holds both hands out to him with a small, lighthearted smile.

"Yeah, you're delirious. Near death experiences do that to you." She says, helping him to his feet and, after looping his arm over her shoulders and sliding hers around his waist, the two teenagers carefully shuffle down the hall in the dim light of the emergency lantern on the kitchen table to his room, where she unceremoniously dumps him onto his bed. "Sleep it off. And for the love of God, please change. You smell terrible."

She goes to leave as he laughs again, tugging his shirt off and tossing it into the growing pile of clothes near the closet before saying, "Hey, Sailor?"

The redhead pauses with one foot in the hall and leans against the doorframe. "Yeah?"

"You know you're a badass, right?"

She laughs and sends him a wink but her heart is oh so light as she turns and heads to the spare room, calling back over her shoulder, "Nice to see someone acknowledge it. Now go to bed!"

The sound of the Chateau's front door opening and closing startles Sailor awake and she blinks heavily, wondering when exactly she'd fallen asleep. Last thing she remembers she was staring out at the fireflies through the open window as she steadily ran her hand down the length of Binx's back and their ethereal glow, combined with the breeze dancing around her shoulders, must've pulled her right under. Down the hall, she hears a loud thump, followed by JJ cursing as he runs into something and she giggles to herself, rolling onto her side to face the hall. He appears in the darkened doorway a minute later, rubbing his knee with a scowl on his face and she laughs louder at his quiet, venomous hiss of "fuck that fucking chair."

"Rude. It's not the chair's fault you always run into it." She teases and he shoots her a flat, unamused look before turning to glance down the hall toward John B's room, his fingers holding tight to the door frame.

"He's okay, you know. Told him to get some sleep." His head swings to face her when she speaks with soft words and even in the dark, she can see the way his tense shoulders slowly relax and his hand loosens, falling back to his side as he nods, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

"And you?" He asks, his eyes never wavering from hers as he kicks his boots off and pulls his shirt over his head; the sight of his messy hair and the muscles in his arms make it a little hard for Sailor to breathe, the gentle wind she once thought of as cool now doing nothing to help calm her flushed skin when she scoots over in bed to give him room to lie down next to her. Binx looks as disgruntled as a cat can look as he loses his comfy spot and jumps down from the bed, only to immediately leap onto the windowsill and stretch out.

"What about me?"

JJ rolls over to face her, reaching one hand up to cup her injured face and runs his calloused thumb under the cut on her cheekbone. "Are you okay?"

Nodding, she shifts closer and lays her head on his outstretched arm, covering his hand with her own and effortlessly fitting her fingers into the spaces between his. "I'm fine. Even better, now."

He leans forward to rest his forehead against hers. "Good, 'cause I don't know what I'd do if you weren't."

When those pesky butterflies come raging back with a vengeance, she realizes she's fighting a battle she hopes to lose.

The sound of a conversation in the kitchen, low voices drifting through the closed door of the guest room wakes Sailor early the next morning. Sunlight filters in through the windows and she squeezes one eye shut against the painful brightness, the other still squished into JJ's shoulder. His arm is a welcome weight slung over her hip and his deep, even breaths are soft against her forehead as he sleeps on, dead to the voices down the hall. With the corner of her mouth turned up in a small smile, she smooths his fine blond hair away from his face and runs her fingers along his jawline before carefully sliding out from under his arm and quietly heading toward the kitchen.

Pulling her hair into a messy ponytail, she rounds the corner and stops short when she catches sight of the person standing by the table, her cheerful 'good morning' getting stuck on her tongue; she was expecting Pope and Kiara, not the goddamn sheriff! Shooting John B a wide-eyed look that makes him shake his head (what the fuck did that even mean?!), the redhead forces a smile and hastily offers her a wave.

"Uh, good morning, Sheriff. Sorry to interrupt, just, uh, grabbing some water."

She just nods in acknowledgement before turning her attention back to the brunet boy and Sailor breathes an inaudible sigh of relief. Holy shit, is that woman scary. She heads to the sink and keeps one ear on the conversation as she quickly fills a glass with water and pops two aspirin, the headache from last night made even worse by the addition of a whiskey hangover.

"I didn't realize you had company, John B. Wild night?" The sheriff asks and Sailor meets her friend's eyes again, her anxiety rising when she sees his thinly veiled panic. Her back to Peterkin, she silently implores him to say something, anything -hell, she even tries to subtly mime surfing with her hands to help him out- but he stays silent, so she gathers her courage, plasters a smile on her face, and twirls to face her.

"Busy day, actually. We went surfing all day after cleaning up the yard." She says, jerking her thumb toward the heap of broken branches piled by the fire pit visible through the living room window; when the sheriff turns to look, she quickly elbows John B in the side, ignoring his huff of surprise as she nods her head in her direction.

"Yeah, surfing! All day." He blurts out, sending Sailor a lukewarm glare when she quickly mouths 'what the fuck was that?' before they both straighten up and spin back to the older woman just as she turns to face them again.

"Right." Peterkin hums and arches one eyebrow as she glances back and forth between the two teenagers. "Now tell me, how'd you both get those bruises? They look pretty painful."

"Oh, this?" Sailor asks, pointing at her cheek with a casual shrug, "I tried to hang ten and bit it pretty hard. My board caught me right in the face."

Peterkin looks at her for a beat longer than normal and the redhead does her best to keep her expression neutral as her palms start to sweat. "Surfing, really? Thought you were pretty experienced in that department."

John B adds, offering some much needed back up, "Even the pros wipe out every once in awhile, you know?" He crosses his arms and leans back against the counter. "My board got me good, too."

"Yeah, it just was not our day," She says with a nervous chuckle, refilling her water and slowly starting to back out of the kitchen, pretending she doesn't see the dismayed look her friend sends her way; her anxiety can't take another second of the sheriff's piercing gaze and she needs to get away fast, lest she start recounting every single second of their activities both legal and not so legal- from yesterday in explicit detail. "And I'm still pretty tired so I'm just gonna go back to bed for a bit. Nice talking to you, Sheriff."

After disappearing around the corner before either of them can reply, she creeps down the hallway, keeping her footfalls as light as she can, and she's so focused on trying to listen in on what Peterkin's saying that she runs smack into JJ, standing in the doorway of the spare room. His arm instantly darts out to wrap around her waist and pull her close, keeping her from falling right on her butt as he says, "There you are-"

"Shhh!" Sailor hisses quietly, covering his mouth with her hand, "The damn sheriff is here!"

He mumbles something into her palm but she she holds a finger to her lips, pushing him back into the room and softly closing the door behind them before pressing her ear against it and dropping her hand from his face. He mirrors her position with a question clear as day in his wide eyes, 'what the fuck?', arm still looped around her lower back.

"She's grilling him about yesterday," She says simply, then turns her attention back to the faint voices floating through the door. The duo listens in silence, trying and failing to discern what's being said until they hear the sound of the sheriff's boots on the front porch and her squad car tires crunching through the gravel as she drives away and they exchange a worried look. JJ had it right: what the fuck, indeed.

"Holy shit, guys," John B's voice suddenly says from the hallway. The door opens before they have time to back away and it sends them sprawling to the floor in a twisted pile of limbs; the brunet boy -who'd usually find something like that hilarious- barely reacts to their position and sends them both a tense frown, his next words dropping like a damn anchor in the marsh.

"We need to go check out that Grady-White again, and fast."

Sailor groans and lets her head fall back onto the floor with a thunk. "Here we go."

let me know what you think! fun fact: ostriches actually do put their heads in the sand, but it's not because they sense danger. female ostriches bury their eggs to keep them safe from predators and they'll occasionally stick their head into the sand to check on them and give 'em a lil turn 😊

taglist ❤: @sinkbeneathwaves @jiaraendgame @hmsjiara @maysbanks @alexa-playafricabytoto @sunflowerbecca @obxlife @obx-adventures @sexualparkour @coltonparayyko @miawantsapuppy

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long-cosmos-overhead · 4 years

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Oswald x Reader request coming in :D In which someone tries to rob him and though she is short and not that strong either she somehow saves him and though shes shaky and a bit panicked herself she grabs his hand and runs away. When they're save she asks if hes hurt and if he is ok and all though they don't know each other

(I do not own Gotham or its characters/ gif not mine)

Head down, work hard, mouth shut. The three rules you had been taught by everyone you ever came to meet. Gotham was brutal to say the least infected by crime, impaling fear, gangs and a composition of the most dangerous and mental people to grace the planet. Ever since you were able to comprehend words those ways of staying alive were drilled into your head to the point you dread not forget them. Thankfully you had witnessed little but the headlines on papers that strung across the street were the terrors of any sane man or woman alike replayed again and again. Truly they had lost their meaning, the fear and uncertainty of a cold murder spun only as a broken record. Old news seen before and most definitely to be seen again.

You had clocked off work early today, a rare but welcomed occasion. Your job was not strictly speaking very sustainable nor enjoyable. You didn’t intend to stay there long, you had no actual plan or blueprint of your life but somehow in the back of your mind you knew you’d throw in the towel and jump to the next job until you get bored and did it again. Not living luxury but spontaneous.

The streets you walked down were engraved into your head yet you didn’t even dare say you knew them. No one knows anything until it happens for even a house lived in a lifetime can still turn into a nightmarish fever dream. It was around four in the evening somewhat dark from the autumn setting into the sky which also caused fewer people to lurk around too long for the dark can be a cursed concept. Still few people braved the cold and gloom however their intent unknown. Head down and keep walking. This motto serving you well swaying danger opposite your direction.

You had walked a while only little under halfway left to go before reaching your apartment. The cobbled streets dark enough for weak street lamps to guide the rest of the way illuminating small circles of pavement. Your feet shuffled turning perhaps the worst corner of your route. A dark dingy alleyway. Dumpsters shoved aside the wall, cigarette butts littering the floor and a distant but strong smell of urine sometimes they’d even be a stray rat picking at the litter on the floor.

Today however the dumpsters and used cigarettes didn’t even cross your mind. A man stood feebly against a wall trapped by two other men clearly much taller and bigger than he was. It was clear by his every move he was scared and the men were not conversing in a friendly altercation. You should’ve walked away, found another way round and forgotten what you saw. Theft was common and the one thing you had been told all your life was to keep your head down and move along yet the man had you in his grasp something about him captivated you alluring you to go against every rule you’d been told.

He looked like a child and a man at the same time. A strange but rather fresh look compared to the city. Rather short and thin with an air of mystery and intellect. His hair was dark and messy something you found oddly attractive. He was almost an advancement, an attractive person who carried a strongly blended sense of submission and dominance. He felt like an opposing force not only to others but to himself. You saw huge amounts of intelligence and ambition beneath his eyes but clearly he knew he couldn’t hold in a fight his body language seeped it. You didn’t even know his name but you knew you had to save him. He was something far far different.

Head down. It was screaming at you, the voices of every person with sense who ever entered your life. The one thing they all wanted you to remember and abide by discarded all for the safety of a man you didn’t even know the name of. Years of teaching washed away over intrigue. If you were to carry anything with you it was the sense of good, the thrill of breaking through and the righteousness that followed by attempting to save a man for even if you failed your heart would be in the same place as if you had succeeded.

What followed was rather a blur. It wasn’t like those old but gold war and crime tv shows. It was messy, uncoordinated, rash and terrifying. You remembered running the wind whipping past your body almost trying to drag you back, to plead you to reconsider. You didn’t have to run for very long in fact it felt as if you had barely gotten started. You saw without seeing your body guiding you like in a dance, adrenaline exhilarating your blood flow. You could distinctly remember a sharp impact smashing right into the side of one man. You weren’t tall nor very strong yet he was thrown off balance hopping to the side as if he tripped.

For a moment no one moved or at least they looked as if they had forgotten how to. Your adrenaline left and you stood as a little girl arm throbbing from charging into another triple the body mass of you. How foolish it was of you to believe you could do something against such beasts. A lifetime of knowledge spoilt. But then your eyes came to rest upon the very person you sought to save. His entire face expressed shock, fear, relief and a tinge of admiration. You didn’t know what it was about him but just like keys in the ignition you were revved up again. Determination clouding your eyes.

You knew you could not fight and by the body language and frame of the black haired man neither could he. Panic began to set a course, you were by far outmanoeuvred. The eyes of the robbers darkened their initial shock worn off and it was clear they had a different goal on the table.

You didn’t think when you laced your hand with the smooth skin that connected to him. You ran hand in hand like an old fashioned movie. His touch sent a spark through your body. Your cheeks flushed pink which you hoped momentarily would be mistaken for anything but his charm that grasped you so easily. Despite high tensions and a painfully fearful atmosphere he was gentle, so gentle. His grip was light yet heavy enough for his presence to be known, he didn’t grip your fingers painfully so they folded in on themselves neither did he run ahead and retreat from your grasp. He was naturally gentle.

You ran until your lungs ached and your legs groaned in protest. You both came to the conclusion that neither of you were willing nor capable to go any further. Your feet stopped pacing and you came to a standstill panting and beyond disbelief. The air having hit your throat enough to leave it stinging. It was rather mad. You and some man you’d never met holding hands in an unfamiliar alleyway desperately trying to catch your breath after almost getting murdered. It was so surreal it sounded like something straight from the pages of a dark romance.

“Thank you.”

His words were split by the sharp intake of air and heavy dosage of shakiness but it was a sound you immediately wished you could hear again and again. The corners of your mouth twitched upwards a little.

“You’re welcome.”

It was evident neither of you knew what to say, too consumed in shock and fear.

“Are you okay?” You asked discreetly running your eyes over his face and upper body scanning for injuries which you were relieved to find none.

He responded by turning the question on you his voice shaky and nervous but genuine. He was as rare as gold in a dumpster anyone else would’ve straightened themselves up and walked off not even taking one look at you let alone ask about your well-being.

“J-just a bit banged up.”

His eyes morphed from confusion to somewhat greatful and sympathetic. He knew you were a keeper just the way you held his hand made butterfly’s flap wildly in his stomach let alone be lucky enough to find someone to defend a stranger from a gang of thugs.

“I got a place not to far.” He cut off seeming afraid. He really wanted to get to know you and thankfully you grasped at the hint.

“Let’s go -,”

“Oswald. Oswald Cobblepot.” His name seemed fitting to his appearance it felt natural as if any other name wouldn’t have been able to serve him the same justice.

“Y/n L/n.” Oh he loved you already. Everything about you had him stunned. Your bravery, your kindness, your voice even your name had him in a pit of deep desire.

You both walked side by side like old friends down the cobbled streets already infatuated with one another setting the scene for something incredibly special.

#gotham #gotham imagine #oswald cobblepot #oswald cobblepot imagine #oswald cobblepot x reader #angst #fluff #literature #request #ask

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popculturebuffet · 4 years

Text

Darkwing Duck Reviews Halloween Special: Fungus Amongus and Ghoul of My Dream

Happy Halloween! Halloween Havoc races to the finish with another Darkwing Double Feature! Love is kinda crazy with a spooky girl like Morgana, and in this case “kinda crazy” means a board of ghouls stealing pizza, sentient mushrooms, grumpy spiders, student lone debt, and a gremlin who somehow sees himself as a valid romantic option. It’s a Darkwing Duck Halloween under the cut.+

We’ve made it! While I got less Halloween reviews done than I would’ve liked, I’m still happy with the ones done and there’s still two more to get in the pocket before the day’s up. So with Halloween today it seemed fitting to talk about the Justice Ducks resident sorcerer and Darkwing’s Girlfriend, Morgana Macawber. Morgana was the only one of the four to stick around as a recurring character out of the four Justice Ducks: Gizmoduck would show up once more after the four parter, and sadly Neptunia and Stegamutt just seemed to vanish but the crew clearly liked Morg a lot and her relationship with Darkwing, so she stuck around for the rest of the series, and is even the focus of the final episode “Malice’s Restaurant”, as well as a sizeable part of the comics. And it’s easy to see why as Kathie Sourcie had great chemistry with Jim Cummings and Morgana’s very presence, being a sorceress raised by the munsters and living in a creepy mansion, allowed for diffrent stories than what Darkwing usually dealt with. While magic didn’t feel like it contrasted with the world, as Darkwing’s world feels like your standard superhero fantasy kitchen sink where anything is possible, most of his foes were either super villains or the kinds of super spies you’d find in a comic book. So fighting ghoouls, goblins, and Satan himself, yes that’s an episode that actually happened, no it’s sadly not on Disney plus, and yes I will be covering it eventually, was a nice out of genre experience and a nice way to put our daring duck of mystery out of his element.

She brought something diffrent to the table, both forcing Darkwing to grapple with letting someone into his life, and with having something to focus on other than Gosalyn or crime. So I wanted to see how this plays out, so expect me to cover all her episodes and not just the Satan one or the Valentine’s Day one, though like my Tom Lucitor retrospective, expect this one to also take some time. So with that all set up, Halloween is the perfect time to begin our journey with her first two episodes.. and Morgana’s Villian Career. Yeah while she only had about 9 episodes to her name, 2 of them are as a Catwoman or Black Cat style antagonist, someone whose likeable and who are hero is attracted to, but is on the wrong side of the law.

She eventually came around, but it’s still an intresting way to start things and an intresting dilema for our hero I wish stuck around for just a smidge longer. These aren’t bad episodes with Ghoul of My Dreams being a pretty good one. If I had to guess though the reason the dynamic fizzled out.. is they simply didn’t have a lot of ideas of how to use her as a bad guy. Part of the reason i’m covering these two episodes together is that they follow basically the same plot beat, the only differences being Darkwing meets Morgana in the first one and they know each other in the second, and that the evil entity who ends up turning against her she works with is different for both. The third act is also entirely unique to each episode, so it feels less like them lazily repeating themselves on an episode and more like they genuinely realized they didn’t have a ton of ideas for Morgana as a villain and thus had her reform with the Justice Ducks two parter. And I can’t blame them: fan would get annoyed if basically every Morgana plot played out the same, and this way she could know Drake’s secret identity, and thus allow the stories to use Gosalyn, though I do wish she’d shown up in one of the villian ones just to see how that played out. But still her time as a Villian is there, and is even a plot point in the valentine’s episode, so let’s see how it played out and see what I think.

Fungus Amongus

The plot here is fairly simple: there’s been a rash of mysterious thefts in St. Canard, and Darkwing is stumped.. until Launchpad asks if they can go for pizza, because he’s hungry and Darkwing is the terrible kind of boss that doesn’t’t care about meal breaks. It makes our hungry hero realize that each of the thefts are connected to PIzza Toppings, and after thwarting the bats and spiders stealing some anchovies, figures there’s only two left: Green Peppers and Mushrooms, and so he decides it’s time to split up gang and while Launchpad guards the peppers, Darkwing goes to visit the head of the mushrom company, who naturally turns out to be Morgana. The two end up taken with one another, to the board’s annoyance as Darkwing is onto them and could stop their whole evil plan and they want to just murder his ass and be done with it. But Morgana proves seduction’s a bit more useful as she sweetalks our hero into leaving, and points out given he’s also a creature of the night in a sense, she plans to turn him.. or kill him if she has to. More on that in our next episode. The facade dosen’t last long as Darkwing goes to help launchpad at the pepper place, and ends up finding out oh no the hot lady he met five minutes ago is bad! While the board plans to feed Launchpad to mutant mushrooms, while Morgana seemingly turns Darkwing into her mindless slave.. but really just played the board and switched sides, not wanting to hurt the guy she just met because he’s cute, they defeat the mushrooms and the board who turn into mushrooms in the light because....

The day is saved though we do get the one standout bit of the episode. Darkwing despite his attraction to her, wants to turn her in, while Morgana simply teleports her house away. And thus the dance begins. As for the episode... as you can tell by how brief I was... for one i’m not doing my usual died in wool recapping for these two to get them out on time. And i’m also not because this one.. is pretty thin. The mutant mushroom and boards’d esigns are cool and Morgana is intresting.. but having seen Ghoul of my Dreams first.. it’s just not as fun, funny or good on the Morgana Darkwing dynamic. Morgana just decides because she wants to ride that dick she’ll be good for a moment, and throw away her hard worked scheme, and the board is turned into mushrooms because.. well see the lex luger pic above. It’s not a TERRIBLE episode, just not a terribly intresting one. It has good elements, but they just don’t come together well and the pizza scheme isn’t as funny as the episode thinks it is. I can kinda see why this one was buried deeper into the series and Ghoul of My Dreams is where they put focus. I just don’t have a lot to say about this one, it’s just bland and uninteresting. It’s kind of why I just sorta plopped it next to Ghoul, I needed to review it for completion’s sake, but lord if I can think of a lot to say about it that isn’t tied into the next one. So since I can’t...

Ghoul of my Dreams:

Now this is better. The basic plot is still simple but allows for a lot more intresting set pieces: It’s a slow night in St. Canard, to Darkwing’s natural annoyance, until a bunch of fire fighters start sleepwalking and throwing gold to some spiders and bats. Something is afoot and since the bats belong to Morgana, Darkwing goes to investigate her. Granted we just MET eek and squeak, but it’s easy enough to assume Morgana struck again off screen and some time has passed. And i’ts honestly what makes this episode more interesting: now it’s more of a cat and mouse game, with Morgana using their chemistry against him, but still being genuinely drawn to him and not wanting to hurt him. It’s better than “I met you five minutes ago might as well throw away my money for you”. Instead Morg truly likes Drake, but wants to keep doing crimes to, in easily the best joke of the entire series “Finally pay off my student loans”.. which makes her already not really a bad guy. I may not haves em but I know people who do. Those loan people do not play around. It’s investing and Sourcie and Cumming’s chemstiry really makes it pop. Sourcie really is what makes the character, giving her energy, sedcutivness when called for and a really sympathetic quality that makes her face turn, sudden as it is, believable. It’s why I really like the character. And I get why some don’t: Her romance with darkwing is sudden, her face turn is even more sudden, and she gets in the way of Drakepad shippers. The first two are valid criticisms, while the last one is understandable.. depending on motive. If your just bummed this relationship you don’t like is forced into the show and gets in the way of the one you actually enjoy.. trust me...

BEEN THERE. And far far worse.. I didn’t start up an entire retrospective on the guy who DIDN’T get the girl here for nothing. But if you say “oh well it’s homophobic or you hate gays” if you don’t ship drakepad, which I have actually heard for both this ship and delpad.. kindly go fuck yourself and stay away from my posts. It’s NOT homophobic to ship a character who is CANOCIALLY into women, with a woman. Launchpad had a girl of the week or two in ducktales, Drake’s attraction to morgana is canon and he also had some ship tease with Neptunia. They both like women.. but there’s nothing saying they DON’T like men, don’t want to date men, or aren’t attracted to them.

Been waiting to reference Schitt’s Creek at some point here now i’ve started watching it. It’s biphobic to say this sort of harmful shit, and it doesn’t’t help there are plenty of gay people who genuinely believe bi and pan aren’t sexualities and harm their own community by doing so. Saying this kind of shit just fuels their fire and bi people like me and pan people like my firend have a hard enough time with straight people being dicks about this. You should know and be better. Don’t bring that shit into this fandom. We’ve already ridden incest out on a rail we don’t need this. I already put up with enough bullshit being a loud house fan and having to deal with ACTUAL homophobic ships like Sam/Lincoln, aka setting up a character you don’t know to be anything but gay, versus her girlfriend whose canocially been shown to be bi if preferring women, whose the proment and well like love interest of a woman, and pair her with her younger brother to clearly troll people. Now that’s a homophobic ship and that you shoudl be angry about, not “oh no the person who likes women in canon.. LIKES A WOMAN IN FANON”. It’s part of what made shiping delpad hard at times because people got really dumb about it to the point someone drew some very horrible fanart just to clog up the tag. Knock. it off.

And if your curious for my actual thoughts on Drakepad: in the classic series.. i’m not a fan, but I get it, and I do think they could work... it’s just. that Drake treats Launchpad really bad, including throwing him out of the house for a year without telling him why over something that really wasn’t his fault, not feeding him, not treating him as an equal after a while. This would have to change for them to work but I could see it happening, as the comics and one of the peisodes make a point that Drake can be a pretty shitty partner to Morgana too.

And just to show i’m equal opprtunity, despite shipping Delpad in the past, i’ve moved on to Penpad and Drakepad , ironcially enough, i’m not as big a fan anymore. LIke the above, Della just dosen’t respect launchpad as a human being. She was willing to keep the Halloween thing up JUST to scare children, looks down on him, and whie is his friend, is not all that close. I could see them happening, and do still think it’d be cute, it’d just take a ton of work and there are better ships for both. And yes I do ship Drakepad in the reboot, but there the two aren’t employer and employee, but equals who genuinely love and respect one another, listen to one another, and value each other. In the Reboot they have genuine chemistry and I could see them together, while in the original Launchpad and Morgana both really deserve better.

Now that’s settled, we get a fun scene of the two primping for each other. then flirting a bit, though Morgana, in AWFUL looking black lipstick wins with the move above and has her spider web launchpad, who hates morgana.. which is one part common sense given how darkwing gets around her and one part ho yay. But yeah this is pretty much Launchpad for both these episodes.

And darkwing dick is calling the shots so fair enough. But Morgana is once again nto wokring alone and is working with a creepy, well designed gremlin, named Nodoff... eh i’ve heard worse, whose giving her sleeping dust to knock out her targets and hits on her constnatly. Naturally he plans to betray her as soon as he can, and is likely only tolerating her because he wants to hit that. There dynamic boils down to this.

There’s also tons of fun dream sequences including one at the top with darkwing being confronted by his enitre Rogue’s gallery before seeing morgana, NOdoff using baseball on Morg’s next target and some great ones at the climax. It’s part of hwy I like this episode better: While someone using dreams for stuff has been done a lot, it’s given a creative spin here as instead of killing them, Morgana’s simply using them to steal. Good stuff.

Darkwing foils their first attempt, though gets blamed for it because St. Canard is about as grateful as New York when it comes to superheroes. Morgana knocks darkwing out with some dust via Eeka and Squeak and admits Nodoff is working for her, though fobids him to harm Darkwing. This.. dosen’t last and we get another great setpiece, of sarkwing on a high dive. Thankfully, Launchpad finds him, and they find Morgana, who gives off the student loans comment. But in the struggle to stop her, Darkwing accidently puts her and the city to sleep.. and Nodoff is now super powerful and imprisons morgana. Darkwing i s back at her house, wondering what to do, but the bats give him a clue.. by flying him thorugh the door to fight Nodoff. It goes about as well as you’d expect with him freeing Morgana.. then trying to murder them both. Darkwing however pulls an Elm Streett 3 and says to think happy thoughts and take control of the dream.. which ends up at Darkwing’s Wedding to Morgana to his horror..... remind me whose the hero again. The woman who, while doing crimes is trying to pay off unfair debts, or the guy who finds the idea of commitment horrifying.

Anyways we get some more great bits, I brush over them so I don’t ahve to talk about them conantly, including darkwing getting a cake on him, before Darkwing turns the tables by finding the hourglass full of the dust.. and in a clever finale, loading it into his gun and firing it on nodoff. This puts him to sleep.. which puts him in the real world, while Launchpad uses a giant alarm clock to wake everyone. They throw NOdoff back into the dream world.. for some reason.. and the episode ends iwth morgana kissing darkwing and the episode possibly having been all a dream.

This one, while I was again breif, is a classic, with a much more interesting dynamic. Instead of a morgana who goes from willing to kill we get one whose conflicted over things, who clearly wants to be a crook but may like darkwing more than that, as evidenced when he talks her out of taking Nodoff’s offer of riches. It’s good stuff and the gags are back to the show’s usual top notch level. It’s a creative, fun episode that really helps Morgana come into her own and I look forward to more of her. Overall i’d recommend skipping fungus amongus, but DEFINTELY check out ghoul of my dreams, as it’s throughly fantastic. I’ll be back in a bit for one last Halloween review and as always you can find my backlog on my blog. i recently covered Tiff of the Titans and there’s regular ducktales coverage every monday. Until then make sure to vote, wear a mask and check your house for gary busey till we meet again! Play us out Gerard Way!

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#darkwing duck #drake mallard #disney afternoon #morgana macawber #launchpad mcquack #halloween #drakepad #drakegana

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philosophiums · 4 years

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hmmmmm so..... i wrote an aftg volleyball au.......

@ravenvsfox this is mostly your fault.... also please know that i actually drew out all of the rotations with the players so that i could keep track of them (for the whole ass two rotations i wrote skdjbkjsbdvsf) and buried myself in actual volleyball rules to make sure i wasn’t fucking anything up. anyway pls enjoy

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The ball comes over the net, cleanly past Andrew’s head. Despite his lack of motivation, his hours and years of training tell him to go for it, to stick his arms out and get low and move in for the receive. But for the first time in his life, he’s on the front line, and putting up impossible serves is no longer his job. He stays still, hands loose at his sides, and just watches the ball.

The world always slows down when he’s on the court, like movements through water. He feels the vibrations through his feet, sees the motions of his teammates as both blurry shapes and sharp images. For idiots like Kevin and Neil, he imagines that everything speeds up. All they care about is spiking the ball, touching it as much as they can, and to do that they need to run. They get hyped, they get high off the weight of the ball smacking into their palm, they flood with adrenaline after the success of a clean kill. Andrew imagines it’s just a chase for them – greyhounds running after a cloth rabbit.

But for Andrew, only his thoughts move that fast.

“Aaron!”

“Got it!”

Aaron hasn’t played libero since early last year, even though the color of his uniform proclaims him as such. Except for the first couple games when Andrew hadn’t quite figured out his medication rotation, Andrew’s been the main libero for the Foxes since their freshman year. But Aaron’s knees give way and his heels take his balance like he’s played the whole set and then some. It’s not a natural talent, but it’s far from indifference. Andrew’s watched him practice, and he’s never fallen behind.

The ball goes up, and Andrew moves from the center front, watching the curve, the spin, working through in his mind how his fingers are going to have to be splayed to catch it. This is different from practice, when Kevin would just toss the ball before going in for the spike, but Andrew’s played libero his whole life; he knows how to catch a ball. His body moves, and his mind keeps spinning three steps ahead.

He knows what positions the other team – the Cavaliers – started in, heavy in the front as they prepare to block, but maintaining two receivers on the back line for any balls that might make it through.

The Foxes are in a good defense rotation, which means that their front line is a little lacking, prepared for blocking and not necessarily ready for any powerful spikes. But Kevin’s already moved up from the back right into a more central location, prepared to use the non-dominant hand he’s been strengthening all summer for a back attack. Kevin runs first tempo, and he likes a toss high enough that he can see over the blockers and get a read on the layout of the other team.

Nicky’s taken a step back from the net, ready for a block receive if it should be needed.

Matt seems ready, too, set up to the far right in a position that would let him pull off quite the wipe if he got through. He’s a strong spiker, but he has a bad habit of jumping too close to the net, and his long arms make straights a challenge. He knows the toss likely isn’t going up for him given his position and its relation to Kevin’s, but he’s ready to jump anyway. Andrew knows from watching Renee that Matt prefers his tosses high and tight, and half of a hand length ahead of what could be considered standard. He also runs first tempo, and the fact that he’s hit in a few points over the course of the game means there’s a blocker on him – that’s one less on Kevin.

And then there’s Neil, who isn’t waiting for Andrew’s toss and has already taken off, racing up to the net from the back end of the ten foot line, angling himself in the wide open right side. He’s trying his hardest to get a blocker to chase him, but he hasn’t hit a spike the whole match, and he’s no longer serving his purpose as a decoy.

He runs at minus tempo.

It’s no wonder Renee can’t properly set to him, and it’s no wonder he can’t trust Renee to give him the toss he needs. Most people would say that Neil should adapt to Renee – hell, Wymack already yelled at him to slow down – but in volleyball it’s the spiker who takes charge of the attack. It’s the spiker fighting in the air for every point. The setter’s job is to make sure the spiker has good footing when they take off.

Renee refused to back down from the challenge in practice, but today she didn’t seem to trust her tosses enough. Her fever and chest cold may have had something to do with it. Her holy high horse lost them the first match, but Andrew made a promise and a trade with Wymack.

The second match is theirs.

Andrew’s never set to Neil, has never set to anyone other than Kevin, but the reckless idiot has already jumped, and he’s wide open.

Maybe.

The ball settles on Andrew’s fingertips, and he cradles it for only a moment before firing it off at Neil. It’s a fast toss – too fast, really, but there’s no other choice. He has to get the ball to a fool who’s already in the air.

With a smack, Neil’s palm connects with the ball, and it collides with the floor in the massive gap in the Cavaliers’ defense.

For the first time all day, the supports for the Cavaliers fall quiet, a string of unsettled murmurs the only thing trickling down to the court. Words of disbelief come in from the Foxes’ own sparse supporters, too, and it feels like every person around Andrew has suddenly leaned in for a closer look. On the side lines, Wymack is on his feet fast enough that Andrew’s eyes move to him for a second, just to make sure he stays where he’s supposed to be. And then his gaze goes back to Neil, whose back is to Andrew, head bent enough that Andrew can see the red roots escaping the dyed brown of his hair.

But the stunned silence only lasts for a few breaths, and then the Foxes start yelling, going crazy over a play they weren’t expecting. Phrases like “what the fuck was that” and “holy shit” punctuate the general chorus of excitement, a one syllable sound that keeps getting louder as time draws on. Andrew doesn’t get swept up in it.

Neil turns around and lifts his eyes from his red palm, finding Andrew through the commotion of Matt and Kevin running at him. His eyes are wide; Andrew thinks if they were any wider he might be able to make out the ocean of blue hiding behind the brown of his contacts. The surprise plays on his face clearer and more honest than Andrew’s ever seen him. He’s shocked, Andrew thinks, over being handed the trust of an unlikely toss. It was reckless, since they’ve never tried it before, and he expects a few stern words from Wymack and Kevin once they’re off the court for longer than a time out, but for now, he’s going to sit in this moment.

Andrew can hide behind the logic of Neil being wide open all he likes – his brain still knows what this uncommon feeling in his chest is.

A perfect hit. A moment of shared trust.

Andrew walks up, and Neil pushes past Matt to meet him halfway. There are several dozen snide things Andrew could say about Neil’s style and obsessive focus, about how he shouldn’t be blaming anyone but himself for the lack of tosses he’s received thus far in the game. But he just cocks his head instead, enraptured by how Neil has managed to stack yet another mystery on top of all of his lies. One more thing for Andrew to unfold.

“How was it?” he asks.

The Foxes fall strangely silent, as if the miracle play never happened. They never expect Andrew to care or offer to change. They don’t know him at all.

Neil curls his fingers into a fist. “Perfect.” This is the first time they’ve said anything to each other since Columbia. The wild grin that takes over Neil’s face is worse than the drugs, and Andrew both wants it to stop and isn’t ready for the withdrawal.

He turns his gaze away, towards the net and what lies beyond. The Cavaliers look confused but unshaken, probably chalking up the spike as nothing more than a desperate stroke of luck – the rash motions of an animal backed into a corner. It’s their turn to receive anyway, so there’s no doubt they believe they can get the point back. They may be right. Maybe it was a fluke. But the ball has never felt better in Andrew’s hands.

The first referee chirps his whistle, and the Foxes make their way back to their positions, rotating once clockwise. Matt’s up to serve, but Andrew’s not going to look. He’s watching the Cavaliers, wondering where Matt’s serve is going to go and who’s going to spike after the setter gets the ball. He knows his block height isn’t going to be good enough, probably not even for a one touch, but Nicky’s in the front now and Neil’s steady as a fucking hurricane in the center of the court.

“Nice serve!” Dan calls, back on the court after Aaron swapped out. They won’t need a libero right now, and Dan’s good defense for a chance ball.

The whistle blows, and Matt’s serve goes over clean.

Andrew’s fighting his drug-fucked brain, but it’s not hard to think when he’s on the court, when the ball’s in play and everything slows down to a speed he can process. Volleyball can be surprising, but it’s systematic – three chances to touch the ball, a receive, a toss, a spike. He’s going to have to work on his vertical if he wants to stay on the court as a setter beyond this game.

Does he want that?

The Cavaliers receive Matt’s powerful jump serve, and he broke their pattern but the ball still goes up. The players connect for a quick.

Neil shoots from the center towards the left corner, plowing towards Nicky as he follows the ball like he’s magnetized. And christ, he’s fast. He’s up in the air before Nicky, fingers splayed and arms stretching.

“One touch!” Neil shouts.

How, Andrew isn’t sure. He hasn’t even moved yet.

“Chance ball!” Kevin goes in for the receive, hitting it up cleanly towards Andrew, who moves into position in just a couple of steps. With all three of the Foxes’ powerhouse spikers on the back line, the blockers for the Cavaliers are more spread out along the net, preparing to read block, perhaps even preparing for a back attack. Nicky’s in a good position for a quick and has one blocker on him, so the chances of it getting past are good, but the Cavaliers keep up defense even on the back line, so the chances of it getting picked up again are also good.

Andrew looks at Kevin and wonders if he could fight his way into a point from the back line with a hand he hasn’t fully mastered yet.

But it’s Neil who sings to him again, his body cutting air as he runs along the net in search of a place free of blockers. He’s already a blur in Andrew’s peripheral, just a flash of orange and black planting his feet and jumping as high as he can. There’s no one marking him, so there’s no reason to try so hard, but Andrew doubts Neil knows anything except fighting, except being dialed all the way up for as long as he can sustain his stamina.

Maybe the last toss was a fluke.

Andrew wants to know for sure.

The ball settles against his fingertips, and he bends his hands until the ball is cradled completely. The motion doesn’t even last the span of two breaths, but he thinks he can feel each fingertip as they settle against the synthetic leather. Neil’s nearing the peak of his jump, and no one’s ready. Andrew lets the ball fly.

It’s not perfect – he’s new to this, and no amount of thinking can make his hands work perfectly every time. But he knows where Neil is, and he knows how to get the ball there. It’s low and a little short. Neil sees that, too, and in the fraction of a second he has to hit the ball before it goes flying into the stands, Neil adjusts his arm and smacks the ball down.

He lands, and his hands are already in fists, a delighted yell rising from deep in his lungs and ripping out of his throat. He whirls on Andrew and he looks wild, hair sticking to his forehead and temples, teeth bared.

Goosebumps slide along Andrew’s arms and down his spine. His heart jumps like he’s in freefall. A pipe dream. A new drug. That’s all Neil is. But he jogs over to Andrew and refuses to let him come up for air.

“It’s so fast,” he says, a safe distance away, but he’s shining so brightly that Andrew feels like he should take a step back, anyway.

He holds his ground. “Nice cover.” Most spikers would have been able to grab a poor set, so Neil’s hand connecting with the ball isn’t anything to fawn over, but the speed factor makes it more impressive. This is Andrew’s only concession.

“Neil!” Nicky runs up and barrels into him, excitedly wrapping around him as if that was the winning point. They have another ten to go; Nicky needs to calm down.

Andrew turns away, wondering if his shaky body is going to last the whole game. It’s his turn to serve after the next play, but he’s never practiced so they’ll have to give up that point. Then he’ll be on the back line, and his training as a libero is going to hinder him being able to set, because if he gets the receive up they’re fucked.

Why does he care?

“Andrew.”

He turns back, looking at Neil, who managed to shove his way out of Nicky’s enthusiasm. The look in his eyes is as greedy as it is deadly. “Let’s do that again.”

#the foxhole court #aftg #tfc #the foxhole court fic #anyway this is like 2.4k and i wrote most of it on my phone bc my brain wasn't working #enjoy #i'll likely also post it to ao3 tomorrow #my fics #aftg volleyball au

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bespectacledbun · 4 years

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What is in Arthur, Sasuke, Mousse, and Charles that you super love about them?

GASPPPP I LOVE THIS ASK SO MUCH OMG 💕💕💕 it’s gonna be a long post so I’m putting it under the cut sjdjfkg

if you don’t want eng/jp spoilers for any of the guys, please don’t read!! that is my warning for this post, so if you decide to click anyway and then complain I put spoilers, I will laugh in your face ✌🏽😚

Sasuke – where do I even begin with this boy??? He’s caught my eye since day fucking one of ikesen when I downloaded it and I was so??? excited??? because 1) holy SHIT we get a meme-y best friend and 2) he’s?? a ninja??? and I got into this game when I was 16 and I was like THIS IS THE ONE I WANT HIM. I’ll admit, the first thing I liked about his character was that he wore glasses (gotta stay on brand yo) but when we got to see more content of Sasuke in the other routes and in the events I just…slowly fell in love with him and all his quirks. The way he could reference memes with such a straight face. His enthusiasm for history and the warlords. The ninja jokes. The way he couldn’t wink. The more stories he featured in, the more I started loving him (@under-sengoku-skies knows how much I’ve rambled about Sasuke in our dms)

The first story event he featured in, Lord vs Vassal, his story side was him taking the MC on a stargazing date and they saw shooting stars from Azuchi’s roof and I just… The way I felt reading that is indescribable. As a history nerd and space geek myself, I loved his jokes, and the way he thought that his and MC’s meeting was designed by fate is just. I couldn’t help but fall in love with that, y’know? The idea that this man of science is such a romantic that he believed his meeting with MC wasn’t just a chance encounter, but it was arranged by destiny… I can’t think of anything right now except cute hdgahshfg.

And then when we got his route and I found out that he’s been waiting for FOUR YEARS and training all that time just to protect the MC it was like,,, the last piece of the puzzle clicked in. To wait all that time and constantly be there for MC in every single route and to protect her… everything Sasuke does has always been for MC (this is your reminder to go read Sasuke’s route if you haven’t done so already). So tldr, Local Sengoku Ninja is Actually a Romantic and Makes an Excellent Boyfriend

Mousse – So when Mousse first got released in…late 2018 iirc, I actually didn’t think much of him at first 😂 it’s funny, because at first all I knew was that he was the Sleeping Dormouse and a diplomat. So I didn’t have much of an opinion outside “oh cool, I wanna see what he looks like” right?? And then cybird dropped his character design and I was like. Shit. He’s actually kind cute?? So I think @ladygacha translated a few of his stories and his introduction story where he’s napping in the Civic Centre was released and I was like fuuuuuuuuuuuck.

It’s kinda weird to explain but hdgajsd his hair is so fluffy and his general character design was just so appealing to me and then… I heard his voice. From that point on it was basically over for me ajsjdk I was WHIPPED. In 2019 his first birthday story released and he talks about how he fell in love with Alice at first sight and I was just g o n e HE’S REALLY SO CUTE IN HIS INTERACTIONS. It’s like what happened with Sasuke asdjfkajd I’m a sucker for “love at first sight” characters.

So when we got to see him in Zero’s route in English I was !!!! FINALLY I GET TO SEE MY BOI and holy SHIT, it was everything I could have wanted. The way he just called Zero out for not protecting Alice?? I was sold. Just his character and personality in general, the way he’s so passionate about other cultures and countries and the way his love towards Alice is so pure and genuine, it’s adorable, and I’m really excited to see more of him in English ajdfjgjajdf

Arthur – strap in because this is prolly gonna be so much longer than the other two ajsjdjfg. So funny thing, I liked Arthur before ikevamp got announced in English–before it was out even in jp, actually. For my 15th birthday, I had gotten a huge volume of Sherlock Holmes novels from my mother, and when I read them I LOVED the stories. I liked Sir Arthur Conan Doyle the mystery writer before I liked Arthur, the ikevamp suitor. So when I found out he was going to be a character I could date, needless to say, I was REALLY excited for his route and ikevamp in general.

To anyone who’s read Arthur’s route, remember the chapter where Theo explains that Arthur is scared of getting close to people because he’s afraid they’ll leave??? Yeah. That chapter was the biggest fucking callout for me because I’m a little like that too. I’ve always been afraid of being left so when I read that, I was like ‘oh shit, this hits too close to home for me’. I know the popular fandom portrayal is this fuckboi who just sleeps around and has -10 braincells, but there’s actually so much more to him than that, which is what made me fall for him in the first place.

I’ll be honest, I was really disappointed with the first few chapter of his route because I knew that it wouldn’t go over well and. Well. I really wish that we didn’t have to have such a scene in the first place, but sadly I’m not the story writer for ikevamp 😔 I was a bit scared of how he’d be portrayed in the rest of the route, mainly because I wanted to like his character a lot. So when his route actually dropped and we got him entertaining children, and his confidence at games, and how his brogue slips out when he’s stressed or nervous–all of that made me feel ‘okay, so this isn’t so bad’. I liked that we also got to see the darker parts of his route and his trauma wasn’t just brushed over for the sake of romance.

Also, Arthur is… really stupid. Like really stupid. He might be smart most of the times, but when he goes into Panic ModeTM or when his emotions are running high, he becomes rash and impulsive and does the first thing that comes to his head (much like myself, which was a callout I did Not appreciate). Like throwing himself under a knife for MC. Or buying her a music box to see her smile. The first time I got to his confession at the end of his route, and he said he got a note from MC and ran to the portal without even checking to see if it was actually from her I just. stared at my screen. like, How can you be so smart and yet be such an idiot at the same time??? I don’t know. I really don’t. Tl;dr, Arthur is a dumbass but he’s a lonely dumbass with a heart of gold and has some really soft event stories in jp (gap moe, anyone?), so please stan him hdgsjdhfg

Charles – Charles has literally only been out for a max of 4 months and yet, if anything happened to him I would shoot everyone in ikevamp and then myself. The funny thing is, NOBODY thought I would fall for Charles at first. Last December when they were releasing character designs for the new characters in ikevamp jp, all my friends tagged me for Faust because everyone, including me, thought I’d fall for the megane character. Then Charles waltzed in and wrecked my home and hearth and I was done for.

Like Sasuke and Mousse, he’s one of those “love at first sight” characters, and in his first story he calls the MC cute and they go shopping together and I just *flails around* he’s so cute??? His character profile also says he’s starved for love and I just,,, in real life I would never stay with that kind of person but since he’s a fictional character, I can’t help but just want to stay with him Q_Q My friends like to tease me by saying all the guys I like have a sort of “puppy” personality ahshdjfg wheezes

And that’s all of them!! If you came here expecting a coherent explanation, you’re asking the wrong guy my bro ajshdjf but please talk to me more about these boys I would gladly talk to anyone in my inbox 💖💖💖💖

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drdiabolical · 4 years

Text

In Retrospect, the Signs Were All There - Chapter Two

Content Warnings: (chapter specific) Physical Punishment

// Fandom: Naruto // Rating: Explicit // Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings // SFW // No Smut // No Ship // dldr //

Summary:

Danzo makes a proposal. Minato considers it. Kakashi’s life gets a little bit more complicated.

Read on ao3

Excerpt:

Another week, a challenge with Gai, several memorial visits, and two dinners passed before the first event of any interest occurred: council member Danzo Shimura arrived precisely on time for his appointment with the Hokage and ordered Kakashi to leave.

Minato refused.

“Just ignore him,” Minato said, waving a dismissive hand at Danzo’s inquiry as to why Kakashi was perched on his desk, said desk-percher zoning back in as he realised he was the topic of conversation. He had grown used to being talked around, a piece of the scenery. People often gave him confused looks at first but those were quickly dropped by the time the second meeting came around, if there was a second one. Funnily enough, civilians didn’t even question his presence. He chalked that up to them being on the periphery of the shinobi world and accepting everything at face value because ‘that's just how those shinobi folk are.’

“Ignore him? This is sensitive information, Namikaze, not for just any shinobi to hear,” Danzo said sternly, gaze lingering on Kakashi for a long moment. While he couldn’t pinpoint the specific subject of his gaze, Kakashi got the sudden urge to ask if something was on his face. However, he didn’t give in to the temptation, he pointedly looked up to the hokage portraits and pretended he wasn’t there at all. While Minato had never explicitly stated it, Kakashi knew that his role wasn’t to be a part of the meetings but rather an accent to the setting. He still wasn’t entirely sure to what purpose he served but it was clearly working since Minato hadn’t dismissed him. Although, if Kakashi didn’t get a mission soon he was going to go stir crazy.

“You shouldn’t worry so much Danzo! Honestly, Kakashi has been under my charge since he was five years old, he’s very well trained,” there was a slight conspiratorial edge to Minato's smile. “I won’t be changing my mind,” he said brightly and settled his intertwined hands on his desk, leaning forward invitingly.

The lines on Danzo’s face shifted from indignation to irritation as he acquiesced to Minato’s conditions. Kakashi had to suppress a shiver as Danzo shot one last calculating look in his direction before following suit, acting as though Kakashi wasn’t in the room. He pulled off the impression the best of all so far, even those who had grown used to the oddity that was Kakashi’s side job gave him a cursory glance once or twice. To Danzo, it appeared that he may as well have been a houseplant.

Nevertheless, his words were hidden by a shroud of obfuscation and indirect meanings, “while I appreciate your enthusiasm for my work - an acceptance I couldn’t have hoped to have received from Hiruzen, may he rest in peace - there are still ways in which we could protect the village further that perhaps you would not be as willing to endorse.”

“If you didn’t think there was a chance that I would, I don’t think you would have brought it up to me at all,” Minato replied, his happy-go-lucky manner betraying none of the severity of the implied situation that Kakashi suspected it held. In contrast, Nara Shikaku hadn’t glossed over his words when discussing the high-security details of the jounin command earlier, although he did hum when Minato’s answer to when Kakashi would come back into the fold was an indefinite ‘soon’. Kakashi hadn’t known that his leave from active duty had been official until then and came to the realisation that he must only skim the surface of the Hokage’s duties in his time at Minato’s side if he was missing details like that.

Danzo smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile, so Kakashi stopped paying so much attention to his peripheral view of him. “Indeed, I shall cut to the chase then, I wish to retrieve my former head researcher from his impromptu sabbatical. I believe that, under appropriate supervision, he could contribute much more to the village than he already has.” Whatever that was, it sounded dodgy, but Kakashi lacked the contextual knowledge to confirm how shady the proposed operation was.

From what little interaction they had had, Kakashi knew that Danzo had airs about him of greater-goods and mystery, the kind that came from living so long as a ninja. He was reportedly one of the most loyal to Konoha, the extent of that loyalty boundless. Kakashi wondered just what exactly that meant for his will of fire and the heated decisions it would prompt him to make. Kakashi was rash in the field and had nearly lost his head to recklessness on more than one occasion, although he couldn’t completely kid himself into thinking his ‘dedication to the completion of the mission regardless of the risks’ smoothly translated to 'dedication to the village'. How different would things be if he was as loyal as a man like Danzo? Not at all, possibly, but the concept gave him something to chew on as his shift dragged on.

“Hmm, I won’t deny the merits of your proposal,” Minato said after a few moments of contemplation before leaning back into his chair, decision made. “However, I also cannot deny the risks. Provide me with the means to eliminate the risks and the rest I’ll leave to you.”

“Understood, Hokage-sama,” Danzo dropped the informality he had picked up in his earlier irritation, leaving the room at a sedate pace, his posture revealing neither that he was happy with the conclusion of the meeting nor that he was dissatisfied. If Kakashi had to guess, he’d say a bit of both.

“Oh!” Minato exclaimed just as Danzo’s hand wrapped around the handle of the office door. He paused and turned his head towards them, body angled to leave. “I have a favour to ask,” he scratched at his neck sheepishly.

“A favour or an order?” Danzo replied, slowly shifting to face them. Understandably, he seemed a little irritated at having been called back despite the meeting having reached its end. Minato had a bit of a habit of doing that, the veteran shinobi treated the behaviour with fond exasperation, the civilian women found it endearing while the younger shinobi were almost always thrown off balance. Danzo struck out his own category: gravely displeased.

“Oh, well, if you have to be like that, it’s an order,” Minato said with a small laugh that did nothing to lighten Danzo’s mood. “I’d like Kakashi to train with your division once a week, I think your methods will benefit him greatly with what’s to come.”

All at once, Kakashi was promoted from house plant to shinobi as the focus of the conversation and Danzo’s acute attention was placed on him. He knew not to question his Hokage when in the presence of others, Kakashi had a role to fulfill outside of their bi-weekly dinners that he didn’t completely understand but knew how to play nonetheless, but he couldn’t help but send a questioning look at Minato’s side profile.

Meanwhile, Minato maintained that his conversation with Danzo was a two-player game, “you can send one of your shinobi to pick him up when you’ve decided a time and place, his schedule is free for the next week. Do pick a day and stick to it, though, I have plans for him.”

Danzo’s sharp gaze switched from Kakashi to Minato and analysed him, Minato’s cheery attitude unfaltering, before speaking, “understood, Hokage-sama.”

Meeting actually over now - Minato never pulled his spontaneous idea routine more than once - Danzo’s hand twisted the doorknob and he left the office.

“So, Kakashi,” Minato turned to him, a little more upbeat than usual, “we’re going to have a nice conversation over dinner about a little something called Root and what I’ll be needing you to report back to me.”

Read the rest on ao3

#naruto #naruto fanfiction #minato namikaze #dark minato #danzo shimura #kakashi hatake #fanfiction #reasonable #irtswat #now tagging for content warnings #physical punishment #chapter update

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prorevenge · 5 years

Text

Exposing my SIL over her hating my family with a bit of help from Father Christmas.

Apologies for the long long length.

My twin brother (25) has been with his wife since we were 15, and they’ve been married for the last year. Since day one, my SIL hasn’t been a fan of my family. She and my brother met doing the same after school club, a club that my best friend happened to also be in. She always used to say that my SIL always complained about my family (my mother, father and myself) and how we all treated her terribly, though when asked, she would never go into detail… because there was no detail. In fact, for the first few years of their relationship, my SIL was the daughter my mother wished she’d had (which strained our relationship unsurprisingly, but not the time for that). She was happy enough to be around us, and my parents always made sure to include her on family occasions such as our birthdays. Since we’re all 15 and moody teenagers, if ever it comes up in conversation (my brother sulking about something and throwing out a line about how he understands why his girlfriend never wants to be around, or me and my mother arguing and me saying something about how the girlfriend hates her) it’s not taken as gospel.

The years go by and my brother and SIL stay together through universities 150 miles apart, and move in together at about the 6 year mark of their relationship. I lived at home for a year after my brother moved out, and during that time witnessed numerous occasions of my brother being around for a dinner that both him and his girlfriend have been invited to with just him attending for a variety of cheap excuses that have been cut short because SIL rings my brother up telling him he has to come home because of X, Y and Z. While some of these may have been genuine, every time he was around for over half an hour he got the calls and messages saying that her world was imploding if he didn’t come home right this instant. I think my parents politely excused the behaviour as young love, but it was an obvious shun. My mother especially was cut off - every month she’d invite SIL out for a girl’s day (either with or without me or other family members) and was always told no.

After the wedding, which none of our side of the family were allowed to be involved in (not an issue, though it was hurtful that we were told that nothing ‘family’ was happening eg. dances, speeches, but they in fact were with only SIL’s side of the family while we just sat there awkwardly), I got a few messages from mutual friends of myself and my brother asking what the drama was between us and SIL, who had evidently been telling people all night that we had been awful throughout the wedding process, and her and her new husband were on the verge of going no contact with us - something we hadn’t heard at all from my brother or her, since we were very much still in contact with them (well, him). A couple had thought it odd that she was saying this, and forwarded screenshots of SIL telling them full stories of complete lies about things that had happened between her and us - my favourite was the supposed time when my father (the most placid man in Britain) stormed around to their house demanding that they give him hundreds in cash to cover his gambling debts while my mother threw salt around their garden trying to kill the grass (no reason for this given) - my father has never gambled anything more than a couple of pounds on the lottery, they don’t have grass around their house to begin with, and most of all, my parents were both out of the country at the time with SIL sent the ‘omg you will not believe what [Brother’s] family just did!!’ message to at least two of my friends.

I’m not a petty person, and so didn’t go in all guns blazing, but the next time I saw my parents I said that it seemed like SIL was spreading potentially harmful lies. They both said they knew that SIL didn’t seem to like them, but had decided many years ago to try and kill her with kindness, if only to not give her any real ammunition against them. I decided to sit on what I had evidence-wise, unless SIL did something major.

The ‘major’ came over Christmas - for years and years, my brother and SIL had rotated between her family and my family. This year was supposed to be the day with my family. They live in the same town as both their families, so it wouldn’t be a massive journey for anyone to go anywhere. I live with my partner about half an hour from my family, and we were also going to be spending the lunch with my family (Partner’s family are from a country who do their main Christmas stuff on Christmas Eve, so we were seeing both sets of family over the period). We get there bright and early on Christmas Day to find my brother there alone. I ask where SIL is, and am told that she’s having a family emergency but will be over before the meal. No issues there, ‘family emergency’ or not. We all get to prepping the meal, and my brother’s phone is ringing the whole time. He stops answering after a period of time and a particularly long call prior that he went outside for, but confirms that it’s SIL, however it’s just her phone messing up and consistently calling the last number in the call list. A bit of a crap excuse, but whatever. The ringing eventually stops.

By this point, my brother’s off playing with one of my dad’s old cars and everything’s in the oven, so we chill out for a while, and look on social media at all the cheesy Christmas present posts. Myself and my partner are just scrolling away comparing friends’ presents, when my partner’s screen comes up with a post by SIL into a Facebook group called something like ‘Murderous Mother In Laws Support Group’ (we assume that we were blocked from seeing SIL’s posts, but she’d let my partner slip through the net) that had only been posted 5 minutes before. The post said something like:

---

‘DH is forcing me to go to his horrid family’s Christmas dinner. They make me do all of the cooking on my own but tell me it’s horrible; his sister even assaulted me last time I went to their house, and she’s just been kicked out of rehab so is back there again. I’m scared everyday that DH is going to believe their lies about me and leave me. I’d rather kill myself than do this. Can I get some support ladies?? ❤❤️ ❤️ ‘

---

Utter shit. We all cook, with my father doing the lion’s share if anyone could even be considered as doing more than average. I’ve never been addicted to any substance, and like my parents had said before, they never said a cross word about SIL to anyone so she couldn’t claim they did. This was it for me. I excused myself and went up to the office to print off copies of the messages she’d sent to friends previously, and the post in the group that my partner screenshot at my request. I printed off enough copies for everyone at the table (10 were there in total) and wrapped them all up in groups. I then stuck some labels onto them as being from ‘Father Christmas’. I slipped downstairs and put them under the tree, claiming they were some more gifts I’d found. (Just to say that everyone there was an adult, so there wouldn’t be a child thinking that Father Christmas was just an arse).

The day continues, SIL arrives and apologises for the delay, everyone says it’s not a problem, and the food gets cooked, served and eaten. We’ve always opened presents after lunch, so everyone gets set up with each other’s presents, as well as the ‘mystery’ Father Christmas present that everyone’s seemed to get. Someone eventually opens a Father Christmas present and starts to read, before asking SIL what she means by us being a horrid family. My parents, brother and SIL all quickly open theirs and read them through. SIL goes as white as a sheet and starts asking about who did this, but my brother tells her that she brought this on herself and has gone too far. My parents say nothing to anyone, and eventually SIL excuses herself. My brother says that since they day they started dating she’s decided that our family hate her and has spent years trying to prove it, ranging from the order their names are written in cards to the number of potatoes she’s served at a meal. She obviously has had no evidence since there is none. My brother had no clue about the messages or Facebook groups, but expected there to be many more. He decided to leave, apologised, and got into contact about half an hour later saying that they were both at home and stable (since the ‘kill myself’ part had worried my mother especially). I kept quiet about my role in this until everyone else had left. My mother suspected it was me, but said she was happy this would actually be out in the open. I apologised profusely for ruining the day before we left.

None of this was my finest moment, which I’m sure some of you reading will agree with. My brother has been in contact with my parents and me to further apologise for everything SIL has said and done, and said that he wasn’t making any rash decisions yet but they needed to sit and talk about everything. I’m sure some people will think that this is symptomatic of a bigger issue of control concerning my brother and his life and might be justifying SIL’s views on us, but I did this more out of anger at the situation more than at the person herself, and this is the first and only instance of any of my family being negative to her. I hope this has made her think about her choices, and that she can work on the reason why she had lied to herself and others for so many years.

(source) (story by 9899232)

#prorevenge #by 9899232 #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #revenge story #last10

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taliaxlatia · 5 years

Text

You’re Not a Pirate

Summary: This world is just too small. Being kidnapped by pirates would be a nice way out, Xehanort thinks. A very crack take on Eraqus and Xehanort's first meeting. Rated G, no ships.

(AO3)

@ma-tsu-the-male-goddess here you go

---

“This world is just too small,” Xehanort intoned in his practiced Monologuing Voice. Deep and mysterious, carrying powerfully over the sparkling waves. The sunset on the water was a beautiful image that likely would have made a dramatic out-of-context cutscene.

But Xehanort wasn’t feeling very appreciative of the brilliant sunset, or the ocean waves, or any other part of the cutscene-worthy scenery.

He was looking for pirates.

He’d read plenty about them in the storybooks he stole from the library. They sailed giant ships and dug for buried treasure and kidnapped fair maidens. Xehanort wasn’t a maiden, but he did have luxurious hair. Surely his gleaming silver locks combined with dramatic pining would be enough to attract his target.

(It hadn’t worked the past thirty-seven days he’d tried, but he had a good feeling about today.)

He paced the line where the dry sand met the waves. Light and dark sand, in perfect balance. It provided a good enough inspiration for his next monologue. Xehanort wasn’t a fan of the beach personally, but pretending might gain him points with whatever pirates came along.

“So easily the tide beats upon the shore. This endless cycle of waxing and waning… And yet the sand remains. Tainted by the darkness of the water, torn between the worlds of earth and sea—”

A loud explosion interrupted Xehanort’s expertly-crafted soliloquy. His head snapped towards the horizon, sure that he was finally going to catch a glimpse of a pirate ship’s cannon—but all he saw was a strange portal opening in the sky before dumping some kind of bike into the ocean. Pirates didn’t ride bikes. (Bikes also usually didn’t fall out of the sky while on fire, though, so maybe it deserved a more thorough investigation.)

There was only one problem: Xehanort couldn’t swim.

He hovered at the edge of the water, flinching as it lapped over his shoes. He didn’t have time to get his rickety boat before the strange flying bike would sink. But what if it had been blown out of the sky by pirates? Going after it might finally give them a reason to kidnap him.

After giving himself a quick pep monologue, he strode into the water. It was cold, and wet, and oh no he was getting in pretty deep actually and those waves were taller than they looked from the shore—

“What are you doing?” A confused voice asked right before a wave smacked Xehanort in the face.

He spat out salt and wiped his eyes. Great, his hair was ruined. How would he lure pirates here now?

“Who said that?” He demanded as he found his footing in the sand. The water was still up to his chest. The ocean was much better experienced from the top of a pirate ship, he decided. (Even if the cold and darkness would also make good monologuing material.)

“Over here!”

To his left, a boy about his age was waving. His black hair was pulled back in a soaked ponytail. Did pirates wear ponytails?

“Thanks for trying to save me, but I’m good.” The boy grinned. The expression made him look even younger. Not a trace of a leer could be found there. Definitely not a pirate, then.

“Are you okay, actually? I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought this world was empty.”

“Of course it’s not empty you fool—hold on, you’re not from this world?”

The boy winced. “Oops, wasn’t supposed to say that. Uh…”

Panicking, the boy swam back to the shore. Ugh, his form was flawless. Xehanort followed more clumsily. Stupid outsider boy, knowing how to swim better than him…

“Wait!” Xehanort called when the boy hit sand and started running. “Your flying bike is gone, and this is an island. You can’t escape me forever.”

The boy paused, but then he smirked and held out his hand. What was he doing? Inviting Xehanort to go with him? But the gesture was all wrong; it looked like the boy was reaching for a door handle, and—

Oh. A giant gray skeleton key appeared in his closed fist.

“What in Davy Jones’ locker is that?” Xehanort practiced his pirate exclamations. “Are you some type of faerie? I was holding out for pirates to kidnap me. Fae deals can be far too complicated. A whole abyss of terms and conditions to keep track of.”

The boy was trying not to laugh now, but at least he wasn’t running away either. The magic key was held loosely at his side.

“I’m not a fairy. My name’s Eraqus, and I should really go before my Master tears down the whole Worlds looking for me.”

With an apologetic smile, he tossed the key over Xehanort’s head. Because he was brave and strong enough to be a pirate, Xehanort didn’t flinch. Much.

...Okay, so he threw himself flat on the sand. A giant metal key to the face would hurt, even if it might give him some nice intimidating bruises. Maybe even an excuse to wear an eyepatch.

There was a loud roar, and then the bike was flying back around to pick up Eraqus. Now that it wasn’t crashing and on fire, Xehanort could see that its wheels were replaced with jets of white fire. That was almost as cool as a pirate ship. Almost.

A plan quickly formed in his head. He scrambled off the ground and threw himself at the magic bike.

“Hey!” Eraqus whined, but Xehanort was already shoving him out of the seat.

“You crashed on my island. Your treasure belongs to me now.” Sure, the play island wasn’t technically his, but it might as well be. No one else came out here since he’d begun his pirate stakeouts.

“That’s my glider! What are you, some kind of psycho?”

Xehanort smirked. That sounded like a perfect segway into a monologue.

“Genius and madness are but light and shadow— two halves of the same coin. Only by searching beyond the shackles of this world can I—”

“Dude, why are you talking like that?” The boy’s eyebrows scrunched.

Xehanort gaped in offense. The ignorant boy had interrupted his monologue. That was a sin comparable to punching someone in the face, or maybe even stealing their lunch.

“Talking like what?” He demanded. He did not whine, but his voice may have lost its mysterious intonation.

“You made your voice deeper.”

“I did not! My voice is always deep as the ocean and intoxicating enough to rival sirens,” he said in his best Monologuing-But-Hotter Voice.

Eraqus nodded, rubbing his chin with a thoughtful look on his face. “That one wasn’t half bad. You’re almost as dramatic as the Master.”

Xehanort snorted. Whoever this “Master” was, he’d bet he could be far more dramatic. He’d played the starring role in his middle school’s production of Frozen, after all. (A role he got purely based on talent, and not just because the music teacher wouldn’t have to waste money on a white wig.)

“That’s it!” The boy snapped his fingers. “That must be why I crash landed here. You’re dramatic, have great hair, and make rash decisions— you’d make a great Keyblade Apprentice!”

“A what,” Xehanort deadpanned, still sitting uncomfortably on the magic bike. Pirate ships would have better seats than this, he was sure of it.

“Don’t worry, you’ll love it.” Eraqus waved off the question before climbing up behind Xehanort on the bike. The seat was bigger than a normal bike seat— more like an actual chair, with a back to it— but it was still definitely not made for two people. He reached around Xehanort to grab the handlebars, trapping him in place.

“Hold on,” Xehanort said as the bike flared to life. “Are you kidnapping me?”

“...Nooo?” Eraqus volunteered.

Xehanort glared. “Good, because you’re doing a horrible job of it.”

If he was going to be kidnapped, it was supposed to be dramatically, with him fighting off ten pirates with only his fists before finally being overwhelmed. He’d be thrown in the brig before receiving his punishment in the form of swabbing the deck, under the direction of a suspicious but fatherly cook who would teach him how to grow up into an independent man.

Or maybe that was the plot of Treasure Planet. He wasn’t entirely sure now.

Regardless, he shoved Eraqus’s arm out of the way, intending to dismount the “glider.”

“Hey, wait! I—I am kidnapping you, so sit back down!”

“Why?”

Eraqus frowned. “Why, what?”

“Why are you kidnapping me?”

Pirates kidnapped people because, well, that’s what pirates did. How else would they get anyone to swab the deck? But Eraqus was just a kid himself, and not an intimidating one. Xehanort would bet he couldn’t monologue if he tried. His voice was too Nickelodeon for it.

“Uh… because… destiny and… stuff.” He handwaved it again. “Besides, it’s boring being the only boy apprentice in Scala ad Caelum.”

Hmm. He did say “destiny.” That was about as close to monologuing as he could get. And Xehanort could understand being bored— that was why he wanted to leave the islands, wasn’t it?

But he still wasn’t entirely convinced. Eraqus must have realized this, because a sly grin broke out on his face.

“Hey, kid, what’s your name?”

“...Xehanort,” he answered, though he didn’t see why that was relevant. Introductions weren’t a common part of kidnappings.

“So, Xehanort, you said you wanted to be a pirate, right?” The grin widened.

“That is the goal, yes,” he said slowly.

“Well… I’ll have you know my glider got shot down by pirates,” he whispered conspiratorially. “Space pirates.”

Xehanort’s gray eyes widened. Pirates were one thing, but space pirates? And they’d shot down Eraqus’s bike? That explained why it was on fire, but he could still hardly believe it.

“Space pirates are real?” He couldn’t help whispering back, just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

“Technically speaking they’re pirates of the Lanes Between but—yeah, space pirates are a thing.”

Space pirates. Just like Treasure Planet. They could get shot at again and maybe even kidnapped and they’d also be in space which was much darker and also less wet than the ocean. Better in every possible way, he decided.

Xehanort sat back in the seat, nearly crushing Eraqus in the process.

“Hurry up and kidnap me, scurvy scallywag.”

A/N: Xehanort grew out of his pirate phase, but not his dramatic monologuing phase.

Hope you enjoyed, it’s been forever since I wrote straight-up crack haha

#fic tag #tali writes #xehanort #eraqus #young xehanort #crackfic #humor #kingdom hearts

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pivitor · 4 years

Text

Emotional Roller-Coaster This Week

So, the last eight days have been an absolute whirlwind. Some really great things happened. Some really bad things happened. I’m kinda still reeling. I had some big firsts, and spent some time with great friends, had some real catharsis. I also fell further into depression than I have in a long, long time, and, oh yeah, got diagnosed with a chronic illness.

I need to get this all off my chest, cause I’m drowning. Join me?

Before we start, there’s two things you need to know about me. Both are things I’ve mentioned in bits and pieces on here, but here’s the full story:

1. Three months ago I had shoulder surgery to repair a torn labrum (I technically tore it when I dislocated my arm in high school, and it’s been popping out on me once every other year or so ever since, but my most recent [and now final] dislocation was very bad and sent me right to the doctor). I spent about two weeks out of work, just sitting at home on the couch in a sling. The pain wasn’t great, but it was worse mentally: I put on a couple pounds and immediately started to feel terrible about myself, and being stuck at home when I wanted to be out there, doing stuff with friends or with guys or to reach a point where I can move out, felt terrible. I wasn’t in a great headspace for a long time. As of now I have about 95% of my arm function back, and am fully healed, just trying to get back the last of my range of motion and gradually increase back to my old strength threshold.

2. This one is a bit more complicated. I’ve talked a lot here about how I grew up in a cult, but I never went into further detail. Well, here we go: I was a J*hovah’s W*tness. (I’m censoring this because I don’t want this showing up in searches) It wasn’t something I would have ever chose for myself, but when you’re born into it, you’re pretty heavily indoctrinated -- I thought it was the gospel truth despite having many reasons not to. They’re a very homophobic organization, so growing up in it wrecked my self esteem. My entire childhood and time as a teenager I thought I was worthless and doomed, destined for eternal destruction. I was often suicidal. When I was about 18 or 19 the cult printed an article “clarifying” their view on homosexuality, and said they recognized that some people are just naturally attracted to the same gender and as long as they don’t act on it they’re still “acceptable” to God. It’s dangerous bullshit that makes me so angry now, but as a brainwashed, suicidal teenager, it felt like the only chance I had to live a worthwhile life, so I got baptized into the religion, which is the biggest mistake I have ever made in my life, because once you’re a baptized member of the cult, if you leave you’ll be shunned by everyone you’ve ever known. Your own parents will treat you as if you’re dead. I was very zealous for a year or two before realizing that I just couldn’t do it anymore, but it’s taken me nearly ten years to fully wake up from the indoctrination, read information from outside religions, scientists, and former members who have left. Currently I still live with my family and have to pretend to still believe (because the moment I don’t they’ll kick me out on the street), and am on the cusp of two promotions at work. As soon as those go through, I should be able to save money to move out, which I wanna do before the summer, and then I’ll be completely free.

Okay, the rollercoaster week itself:

Pre-Monday: For about a week, a week and a half before this all started, I’d been experiencing some pain in my side that was making it hard to sit up for long periods of time. This normally would’ve been a major red flag, but thanks to the shoulder surgery, I’d been having random back pains off and on recently anyway. I assumed it was related to me overcompensating for the shoulder and left it alone. Big mistake.

Monday: So one of my promotions at work involves a coaching center we’re launching. We were supposed to do our first presentation last Monday, and when my boss showed up for it, everything fell apart. It wasn’t totally my fault -- the general condition of the office itself wasn’t up to par, and the boss recognized that there wasn’t much I could do about that -- but a lot was, and I spent all week trying to fix things and get them running, and running into one major roadblock and frustration after another. We’re finally doing the presentation today, but it technically still isn’t 100% fixed. Work has been a major, major source of stress all week. I don’t think I’ll mention it again because there’s not much more to it than what I’ve listed here, but remember that it’s hanging over my head all week.

Monday night I was invited to a birthday party for a friend from my gym. Since the cult doesn’t celebrate holidays, I’d never actually been a birthday party before, complete with cake and singing happy birthday and everything. It was really nice -- even though it was truly just a bunch of guys hanging around a bar watching the Eagles, it still felt like something really special. I also spent about a half an hour in my car before I walked into the bar trying not to hyperventilate. I don’t feel guilty at all as I may have once, but I was still really worried about being seen by someone and my family finding out.

Wednesday: Tuesday was my only truly normal day of the week, and even then, we had my cousin staying with us up until Wednesday, so even then it wasn’t truly normal. We normally have church on Thursday nights (I have to attend so as not to blow my cover, but I tend to stand in the lobby and play on my phone the entire time; it’s a nice chance to catch up on my reading usually), but I had a concert on Thursday I was not going to miss, so I told my parents I was going to a different congregation on Wednesday night, but instead I went to Starbucks and caught up on Crisis on Infinite Earths. It’s...depressing that this is what I’m reduced to, but I was happy that it finally occurred to me to just...lie about it.

When I got home and took off my shirt to change into my pajamas, I noticed a patchy, red rash on my stomach, side, and back, right around the same area I’d been having pain for the last week or two. I’d absolutely never had anything like this happen before, and I wasn’t sure what to do about it. I crossed my fingers that it was an allergic reaction, put some cortisone cream on it, and decided to wait a couple days to see if anything changed.

Thursday: On Thursday I drove up to Philly after work, and ate a few slices at my favorite pizza place, reading comics, until it was time for the concert. It was a free show from Pkew Pkew Pkew, a band I truly, truly love, and it was one of my favorite shows of the year. Just pure joy. They played for about an hour, but were the opening act, and I don’t care for the headliner (Beach Slang), so I had originally had a few ideas about what I could do afterwards, considering that their set was over by 10 or so. I could go home (coward’s option), I could go to the Barcade. What I really wanted to do was go to a gay bar or club. I’d gone right before my surgery and had a great time, but I’d been avoiding going back (or joining a dating app or anything else) until my arm fully healed because it would very much have gotten in the way of doing anything physical. I was finally in the place where I could use my arm, but now I had that strange mysterious rash, and didn’t think it was right to do anything like that until I’d figured it out/gotten it cleared up. I don’t wanna pass anything on to anybody.

By sheer coincidence, Philly’s Emo Night ended up being this very same night (this one is held once a month), so I ended up heading over there and dancing until 2AM. I got very drunk and had a fantastic time. But there were a lot of couples. There was this girl that kept hitting on me, and then getting pissy when I didn’t reciprocate. There was this extremely hot dude in a Misfits hoodie, and early in the night we were the only two who were dancing, and he gave me a high five that he pulled into a bro hug after the song, which got me all riled up, but I couldn’t work it into anything else haha. And then this group of about four guys or so showed up, dancing all night, very affectionate, cupping each other’s faces when they talked to each other and all that. I’d seen them before and both times thought they might be gay, so I stuck close and was kinda part of their group for the night, which was really really fun. At the end of the night, one of them mentioned their girlfriend, and I reeled way more than I had any right to. I had a fantastic night. I went home feeling very alone.

Friday: Friday was my gym’s Christmas Party, which, much like Monday, was my first ever Christmas Party. I had a really fun time chatting with everyone, eating, watching one friend get drunk, try to jump up on the rings, and get dragged home by his wife. We had rowing contests and the losers had to take shots. But there was one guy there I’ve always had a crush on, a very straight, very married guy, and he was looking extremely hot and was acting extremely funny all night, and it was rough. I went home and dreamed about him all night. I woke up feeling even more alone and frustrated.

Saturday: I was pretty depressed and listless by this point. Feeling really sorry for myself despite all the fun I’d had all week. I had plans to drive up to Asbury Park for an Aaron West and the Roaring Twenties show and I just...really didn’t feel like going. But I drug myself out of bed and made myself go, because you don’t miss the gig. Before the show I wandered around Asbury, basically torturing myself. I wanted to visit a restaurant but had eaten lunch too late and wasn’t hungry. I found a gay club but still had that rash, so I didn’t wanna go in. I ended up standing on the beach, in the dark, finally having a genuine smile as I dodged the waves, but also just thinking about how sometimes Kangaroos just walk into the ocean and...never come back. I was not in a good headspace. I made myself get off the beach.

The show though...damn, that show. Dan played the second Aaron West album, Routine Maintenance, from front to back, and it’s an album about Aaron making the people in his life proud of him, about his friends giving him direction, about finding redemption through being there for his family in their darkest hour. That kind of shit is my kryptonite to begin with, but all I could think about was how all I had ever wanted in my life was to make my family proud, and how I’d never be able to do it, how someday soon they’re just...never gonna talk to me again. I cried twice during the set. And afterwards I got to hug Dan and tell him how much the album fucks me up. It was really cathartic. I felt the cloud start to lift.

Sunday: So Sunday I finally go to the doctor about this fucking rash, which hadn’t gotten any worse but had not gotten any better either. The diagnosis?

I have fucking shingles.

For those who don’t know, shingles is the chicken pox virus. After you’ve had chicken pox it never really leaves your body -- it stores itself away in your nerves. As an adult, it can reemerge as shingles, which begins as an intense pain, then advances into painful rashes on one side of your torso. Without intervention, they can continue to spread and become almost immobilizing. I’m currently on a pill I have to take three times a day for seven days, which will stop the progression of the shingles, and then it will heal up on its own, but it could take a few weeks.

Thankfully, I’m not contagious -- I can only spread the disease if someone has prolonged, direct contact with the rashes. I can be around people, but like I feared, it does rule out sex for a while. The worst part is that shingles as a disease can’t really be healed. The symptoms will go away, but I’ll be susceptible to outbreaks the rest of my life. Fortunately, the doctor made it sound pretty manageable -- the pain in my side, in that exact same spot, will always be my first symptom, so as soon as I feel that I need to get to a doctor and get back on the seven day medication to end the flare-up. It doesn’t sound like shingles flare-ups are super common either -- reading up on it, it looks like most people have, at the most, three outbreaks in their life. But, it’s still a chronic illness, and it’s one that’s very rare to emerge at this young of an age -- this is something you normally get in your fifties or sixties, not your early thirties!

Honestly, I could only laugh. Just my luck, right? I’m so frustrated. My arm’s finally reached the point where I can get back to trying to pursue guys, but nope! the shingles has to postpone it a few more weeks :/

But despite it all, the depression of the rest of the week had mostly lifted. I had processed it. I was feeling better. For a while.

Back in the spring I had joined a subreddit for former members of the cult, which is one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, as it let me share my story with people who had been there and understood, and really helped clear out the last remnants of the programming from my brain. Every once in a while different gay Ex cult member will contact me on there, and I’ve struck up a few nice casual friendships. Last week a guy reached out to me on there looking for friends in the same situation as him, and I replied, and on Friday he finally replied back, and we texted each off and on Saturday and Sunday morning. Sunday night, though, we got into a deeper conversation. He’s in his early twenties, and some of the stuff he was asking for advice about made it sound like he was just starting to wake up from the programming and just starting to think about leaving and being gay and everything. Eventually, as we talk more, I find out that that’s not fully the case. He’s jealous of some of the stuff I’ve done that he hasn’t -- going to Pride, going to gay bars -- but unlike me, he’s had a fair amount of sex. Like any closeted Witness, he had to drive into unfamiliar cities to do so, and it’s a strategy I’ve thought of trying but never pulled off.

I dunno, I’m so depressed. I feel like such a failure. I know having sex doesn’t make you a better person, and not having sex doesn’t intrinsically make you a failure. But I feel like this because I want it so badly, because I always have, and I could have been doing it for years, and I’ve been really forced to confront the fact that it’s my own fear that’s been getting in my way all this time. If I’d really tried I could’ve done it by now. If I really tried I probably could’ve moved out and started my new life by now -- I’d probably be dirt broke in an apartment with like eight roommates, but I could’ve done it. I don’t feel like anybody else, including this guy I was chatting with, have been judging me for this, but I’m pretty disgusted with myself, irrational as it may be. I know it’s not true, but I feel like my whole life has been a waste of time. And I’m so fucking sick of it.

So. This is everything I’ve been processing this week. I don’t really know what to do with it. I’ve gotta be patient a little while longer. Keep working on my real estate licensing test so I can make some more money. Wait for the shingles to heal up. Get on Grindr and just, fucking, fuck some dude the moment I’m cleared up.

But fuck, I’m so fucking sick of waiting.

#pivitor

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marvelficrec · 6 years

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do you have any 100k stony?¿

Massive list of 100k+ stevetony fics for your slow burn needs (under the cut cause there’s 20+ fics!!)

REBIRTH SERIES - 300k - i love

If you think of life and death on a continuum, finding the point where it tips is complicated. It cuts across all political lines and gets to the root of our humanity. It requires faith informed by years of intimacy that you’re doing what’s right for your loved one.

But Tony is just a man. And there’s only so much he can do.

(Or that time when Tony does what is necessary to survive just so that he can continue to fix things and makes extremely rash decisions; because even if Steve may have left him behind, doesn’t mean Tony would do the same. Kind of.)

Deep in the Heart of Me - 256k

Veteran single dad Steve runs a tattoo shop. For his 40th birthday, Pepper arranges for Tony to get that tattoo he always wanted, and he winds up with the mother of all crushes instead. Jumping out of airplanes is one thing, but falling in love is something else entirely. Steve struggles with the idea of actually letting someone into his life. Tony is left trying to keep his heart from being broken while Steve figures things out.

I Said “I Love You,” What Does it Matter if I Lie to You? - 96k (its almost 100k, I love it too much to not rec)

18 year old Tony Stark is your typical teenager. Well, except for how he’s the playboy billionaire heir to Stark Industries and working on two PhDs. Oh, and 6 months ago he was kidnapped by - well, no one really knows who. Since his rescue (excuse you, Tony liberated himself), he’s also been keeping a pretty big secret. Here’s a hint: it’s shiny, red and gold, and flies. Tony’s had a productive couple of months, but the fact that his grandfather keeps trying to hire bodyguards for his “safety” is really putting a cramp in his ability to keep his secret superhero identity, well, a secret.

Steve Rogers wakes up in 2015 and finds out that he’s missed 70 years (Oh god, does this mean he’s 94?), a revelation that he handles with much less grace than usual. Mostly, Steve just wants to be Captain America again, but on his own terms and without a lot of fanfare. To fill the time while Steve tries to figure out the best way to resurrect a dead superhero, his good friend Isaac Stark offers him a job: bodyguard to Isaac’s grandson, Tony Stark - who seems to get into a surprising amount of trouble for a teenager. “There’s no better introduction to the 21st century than through Tony,” says Isaac. Somehow, Steve is not reassured.

Paved With Good Intentions (I’m on the road to hell) - 194k

When the mysterious group of vigilante assassins known only as ‘The Avengers’ are tipped off about the dirty secrets that lie within Stark Industries, Steve Rogers has his heart set on taking out Tony Stark for good in order to protect the rest of the world from his evil. He’s seen the footage, after all- Stark is a man who fights only for himself. And of course, when a job arises as chief bodyguard for Stark, to protect him from the growing threat of an ominously infatuated stalker, the opportunity is way too good for him to miss out on. It’s the perfect placement, and the perfect way to find out whether or not their tipoff is genuine.

But as Steve falls into rank as the new bodyguard for Mr. Stark and he spends time getting to know and protect him, his initial hatred begins to falter and merge into something different, something far more terrifying than the prospect of killing the face of Stark Industries.

Steve Rogers may just be falling in love with him instead.

America Isn’t Chicken - 130k - eh.

After a Civil War, death, rebirth, a takeover by Osborn, brain deletion, and the fall of Asgard, Steve and Tony might just be starting to get back on solid ground with one another. Things aren’t perfect, not yet, but they can be in the same room as each other without resorting to violence, and they’ve even managed to share a smile or two.Seems like the perfect time, then, for Tony to try and fuck it all up with a stupid game of gay chicken.

Meanwhile, as if he didn’t have enough to worry about, Tony realizes some kind of supervillainous trouble is brewing when increasingly advanced armors start popping up all over Manhattan, looking strangely reminiscent of his tech. On the other side of the world, Steve gets news that Zola is on the move in Russia, with some sort of nefarious plan at work.

Which will ruin them first? Will it be this unknown armored villain who is after Tony’s tech? Or will it be Zola unleashing his mysterious plan on the world? Or will Steve and Tony prove to be their own worst enemies, destroying the tentative truce they managed to forge with their own stubbornness?

Blue Lips, Blue Veins verse - 307k

Tony Stark is Iron Man.

Before that, he was an man with bigger heart than brain. Before that, he was an asshole with a bigger mouth than sense. And before that, he was was a scared little boy. Not that it matters. Stark’s always have had iron in their backbone.

Scatterlings and Orphans - 210k

It’s really got to say something about a guy when you can defeat Doombots, AIM, Interdimentional Yeti, SHIELD’s systemic obfuscation, Asgardian Gods, Fox News, and also kick some serious Alien ass with a guy, and still want to punch him in the head over dinner, hasn’t it? Tony’s sure that means something.

Wipe Your Tears Away - 121k

Steve likes taking care of his team. It gives him focus in a confusing new world. But one member of the team never learned that it’s okay to be taken care of. Until the night Tony gets a concussion, and his deepest secret - that, when he’s absolutely sure he’s alone, he likes to role play being a toddler - comes out into the open and affords Steve the perfect opportunity.

Sixpence In His Shoe - 103k

Steve and Tony should really read the fine print on what they’re signing. Then again, some mistakes are not really mistakes.

almeno tu nell'universo - 114k - good! nice!

Tony drives off.

Well, he wants to.

But he can’t.

Because.

Steve Rogers is in front of his car.

Steve fucking Rogers. Is in front of Tony’s fucking car.

Double Time - 123k

Cassino, Italy, December 1943. Special Agent Tony Stark, former Marvels adventurer, is sent to investigate a Cosmic Cube found by the Invaders – and it’s the perfect opportunity for him to rekindle his secret romance with Steve Rogers. But when Hydra attempts to steal the Cube, an inadvertent wish for help leads to the appearance of a Tony from the future of another world: Director Stark of SHIELD. This Tony is a man with a lot on his mind. He refuses to tell them anything about the future, but he seems to know much more than he should about Captain America. And something’s happened that’s clearly killing him inside, but he’s not talking. When Director Stark’s failed attempt to return home leads to the unexpected appearance of another visitor from his universe, all the lies come undone. Now there are two wars to fight, and the second one could ruin all of them.

Irreparable - 131k - WIP but good

Forgiveness is a journey, or so Tony was maybe told a long time ago. He doesn’t know about any of that and doesn’t particularly care to. In the wake of civil war, the Avengers remain, as do their enemies. And Tony Stark rebuilds, as always.

He destroys the phone, he burns the letter. But he can’t (he won’t) eliminate Steve Rogers from his mind.

Blank Space - 113k

During a fight with Doom, Steve is hit with a spell that takes all of his memories from his time as a Super Soldier. The last thing he remembers is going in for the Project Rebirth experiment. Now he’s being told it is 80 years later, he’s a Super Soldier called Captain America, and he leads a team of other super powered people.

One week earlier Tony finally takes the leap and makes a move on Steve. It works out great and they start dating, without telling anyone. Now Steve doesn’t even remember ever knowing him and Tony doesn’t know how to tell the guy from the 1940’s that they are in a relationship.

Sins of Omission - 155k - another WIP but good

A Post-Civil War, Pre-Secret Invasion AU where Steve is dead, Tony’s a mess, and everything sucks.

In which Tony deals poorly with Steve’s death, falls off the wagon, sees ghosts, and misses a lot.

Oh, and the Skrulls are about to invade.

Resurrection Verse - 338k

Doom brings Steve back from the dead. Hijinks ensue, some of which might vaugely be considered plot.

Even the Light is an Illusion - 102k

Death threats are an unfortunate side-effect of being Tony Stark, so he’s learned to ignore them. The problem is, when someone really wants you dead, hiding your head in the sand just kinda exposes your ass.

But it’s not just Tony’s behind on the line. Whoever wants him dead wants him to suffer first, and they’re willing to do anything to make that happen. Tony knows there’s only one way out. To save Steve, the Avengers, and the general public, Tony has to die. Of course, death isn’t always the end, and Tony does what any other self-disrespecting scientist would do: he finds a way to fake his death and avenge his own murder.

The trouble is, terrible decisions usually have a terrible price, and this one is no different. Tony has a chance to save the day, but the cost may be more than Tony was ever expecting to pay…

In Which Tony Stark Builds Himself Some Friends (But His Family Was Assigned by Nick Fury) - 343k

Steve takes things like personal responsibility and respect seriously. Tony’s got people he pays to take care of that kind of thing, and anyway, he’s pretty sure that he’s going to die of some exotic disease in his workshop, because Dummy’s still a little spotty about what is 'clean’ enough to put on an open wound. The rest of the Avengers are in this for personal gain, except for Clint, he just enjoys being a dick.

And some things shouldn’t be a chore.

Earth-1796 - 619k

Captain America respectfully requests that all complaints be addressed to him in writing. On paper, the nice old-fashioned way, because the computer screen hurts his eyes.

Put your phone down, Tony.

Road To War verse - 177k

Tony rebuilds, modifies. Takes fragments and gives them new order. He does not create. He can’t, not anymore. Not after this.

Or: After the events of Ultron, Tony rebuilds the tower by himself and shuts everything out to the point that Pepper takes desperate measures and asks Steve to come and help.

Pulse, Beat, and Measure verse - 134k

You should always meet your heroes. (Or: Tony Stark, formerly of Marvels magazine, encounters Captain America, formerly nobody special, at a party in 1942.)

Tales of the Bots - 514k

When Tony Stark was seventeen years old, he built his first AI. On that day, he ceased to be his father’s creation, and became a creating force in his own right.

That one act likely saved his life, and not always in the most obvious ways.

Truth Behind Masks - 98k - close enough, and its good so

Steve Rogers has plenty of friends. He just doesn’t know two of them are the same man.

That’s just how Tony Stark/Iron Man likes it. Until he comes to regret it.

#ope thats a lot #asks #long #stevetony #tony stark #stony #tonysteve #Steve Rogers #fic rec #stony fic rec

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jflashandclash · 5 years

Text

Traitors of Olympus IV: THE LAST CHAPTER!!!

Their lunch went over the amount of time Pax had allotted, but there was no way he would cut it early. The appreciation on Merry’s face and the relief on Kally’s were worth every second of catch up he had to play, even as he bantered into the phone.

“Are you suggesting this meeting is more important than my own affairs?” Pax let the iciness slip into Santiago’s voice. The other end of the line went into panicked silence. Everyone thought Santiago had disappeared for good, but he couldn’t yet. Not when there were so many unresolved legal issues to attend to and so many people Pax could mess with.

Other than his phone argument, the van had been marked with uncomfortable silence. Alabaster spent the time doing his jaw stretches and exercises. Pax wanted to make a comment about a few other ways to work out Alabaster’s jaw, but—after one very awkward bathhouse incident where Pax forgot who he was—Pax had promised to check the mirror before he tried hitting on anyone. Or give tackle hugs. That had ended well with Axel.

Axel couldn’t stand to look at him when he did this. He didn’t even like hearing Pax talk. Some disturbed part of Pax enjoyed it, like Muahahha! This is how if feels! But, Pax knew that was about as fair as betting against Prometheus or Tyche.[1]

On the note of feeling vindicated about triggering Axel’s trauma and why, Pax admitted, it was unfair, Pax had chosen to hang the Triple A Chimera masks in their throne room. That way, he would cringe every time he caught saw the Leonis Caput helm and had to rub the stump where his hand used to be. Call it the espresso shot of incentive for whenever he wavered on their cause or thought about painting weasels instead of going to one of Santiago’s business meetings.

Axel didn’t choose to see Santiago again the way Pax chose to see the helm. Axel had voiced his opinion on the matter very thoroughly and with a lot of violent gum chewing. If Pax kept this up, and they found a way to attach an electrical plant to Axel’s mouth, Pax suspected they could power the entirety of Camp Othrys (Remastered) with his vehemence.

As their white van pulled alongside the other pharmaceutical vans, Pax ended the phone call. He grinned at the others, shuffling to his feet. No matter how often he turned into Santiago, he never got used to the limp.

“Good news everyone!” he said.

Curiosity sparkled in Alabaster’s green eyes. He sat up on the opposite bench. “Did you get a dead body?”

“I got a dead body!”

Axel didn’t say a word or react as he exited the driver’s side. He didn’t wait for them either, going ahead through the back entrance’s hidden doors.

Pax tried not to let Axel’s anger dampen his spirits. Instead, he focused on this opportunity: Axel had left Alabaster to his mercy.

Pax rose to his feet, almost stumbling on the bad leg.

Alabaster hopped out of the van. He sighed and extended a hand to help him.

Pax fished around his suit jacket—it became easier wearing the same clothes his dad did when he was morphing this often—and nipped a bite of his golden apple. He didn’t need to anymore. He had morphed into Santiago as soon as they dropped off the girls, but he enjoyed the sensation. Before Alabaster could withdraw, Pax morphed again.

That way, when he staggered down and leaned against Alabaster for support, Pax looked like a voluptuous, hot chick whose curves barely fit in the now-tight business suit.

Alabaster had a hard time looking at him. “Ajax,” he growled, though in threat or complaint, Pax wouldn’t know until Alabaster set him on fire.

Pax grinned up at him. “The corpse is super fresh, only an hour dead. It’s the right height, weight, race, and age. How much time will you need to give him a proper, evil gimp leg and some Iago fangs?”

That had been a fun experience. When Alabaster set to work making a mold of Santiago’s mouth from Pax’s morphed one, Pax had a hard time not trying to eat the bubble-flavored molding. Eventually, Alabaster switched the flavor to something much less delicious.

Pax tightened his—her? Unlike Lapis, who demanded a certain pronoun, he never really cared what pronoun he used, even when his family jewels turned into… that didn’t seem fair that girl’s parts weren’t also called family jewels. They were as precious. Maybe family pearls? He’d have to consult Urbandictionary later. Regardless, her for now. Pax tightened her hand around Alabaster’s tie. The bracelet that Alabaster had made for Pax glinted along her wrist in the sunlight.

Witch boy had a much harder time rebuffing her when Pax was a girl.

Alabaster swallowed at their proximity but didn’t withdraw. He looked exhausted, probably from hot-girl-overdrive from seeing Kally earlier. “To trick a mortal, a few hours. If the coroner identifying him ends up being a demigod…” he shrugged.

Pax had forgotten, for a second, they were talking about altering a body. She nuzzled her face against Alabaster’s shoulder, her longer hair spill out the ponytail and across the two of them. Although the child of Hecate’s spell pouches were all by his belt now, his scent still hinted at the herbs he carried.

Other than that bathing house incident, Pax had been an upstanding gentlelady… gentleman… gentle person? Whatever. Which really meant she hadn’t had time to disrespect anyone’s boundaries, or so Pax kept telling himself. That and she feared she’d breakdown if she let herself get cuddly with Alabaster. She had to be strong. Strong Pax baby that used all that bottled up fear, pain, and anger to scheme. Muahaha.

But Pax wanted hugs after not touching Kally the whole meal. And Pax had been so well-behaved recently. So much so, that Alabaster hadn’t set him on fire in months. Maybe…

“So, I see you get hot and bothered by corpse talk. If I keep chatting about it, will you let me give your neck a makeover? Look at Axel. It’s all the rage these days,” Pax said. It had been so long since she properly flirted, she almost forgot to make her eyes super wide when she blinked up at him.

“Ajax, I appreciate that you’ve kept to your promise for the last two months,” Alabaster said. “Don’t—”

Someone cleared their throat by the back entrance of the temple.

Axel must have doubled back from inside to give Lucius the automaton donkey a bucket of oil. He leaned against the door, arms folded, glaring, though Pax couldn’t tell if it was more at her or at Alabaster.

Pax pouted.

Alabaster tapped Pax’s bracelet.

Pax’s Mist hand dissolved. The glove collapsed into nothing, leaving the red scarring of a stumped wrist.

All his concentration faded. Pax morphed back into a boy, clutching his stump and empty glove against his chest.

That was meaner than anything Alabaster could have said, but Pax carefully kept his pout. Making Alabaster question his sexuality for a few seconds: a victory that trumped all other loses, including that of a functional limb. Probably.[2]

“Even if the Belizean coroner is a demigod, he isn’t paid enough money to pay attention to something like that,” Axel said, like his little brother hadn’t been trying to seduce his friend and use a van with sleeping bags the way teenagers were supposed to use a van with sleeping bags.

Alabaster fixed his tie. The skin under his freckles was bright red despite the way he tried to glare. “If we can properly set up the body in the swamps of Belize, it’ll look more like a suicide than a murder.”

“See, that. That’s exactly the kind of violence I want. Good ol’ autosacrifice!” Pax kept his smile strong. He refused to puff up his cheeks and pop them while thinking about autosacrifice: the amount of blood that he and Lapis had shed to contact the Vision Serpent recently. This time, he wanted to proceed as carefully as possible and get all the supernatural, visiony approval as possible before things went wrong. No more rash Pax baby.

He led the others towards the backdoors of the temple. He was pleased to see some new recruit had graffitied kittens around the door entrance. The next hallway wasn’t nearly as cheerful—Matthias had been focusing so much on restructuring the new housing that he’d only managed to put up posters of bands for this area of redecoration.

“Santiago is making a huge point to say he’s traveling to his home town for something important next week,” Pax said to and winked at Axel. “After that, Mr. Soon-To-Be-Legally-Pax-Patriarch, you and Lapis will never have to look at him again. Except in family photos. We should burn all our family photos.”

Axel clenched his jaw in his best illustration of I can be hot, mysterious, AND mopey. “I don’t like that you’re doing this.”

That was a conversation that Pax wanted to hear again about as much as he wanted to watch Alabaster cut off his useless hand again. Sure, in a few ways, he’d asked for both, but that didn’t mean he needed another bonding experience with a hatchet or a grumpy older brother.

Nausea threatened his stomach as he thought about how much easier it could have been with Kally there. She wouldn’t have let the procedure continue without him being sedated. But, she wouldn’t have let a lot of things happen that Pax knew needed to happen.

He shook off the feeling, jamming his stump harder into his ribs to force himself to focus. They got to the elevator at the end of the hall. It was already opening with the auto sensor Matthias had installed.

“Yea,” Pax said, “And I don’t like that my brother got attacked by an empousa and won’t tell me about it. You said you were going to find a way to easily change the subject from our updated style. You didn’t say you were going onto Vampire’s Anonymous. Did you at least give as good as you got?”

Axel sighed. When he rubbed his bruises, his expression turned wistful. They got inside, and Axel pressed his finger into the scanner for a quick blood sample to get to the top floor. “Ajax, I’m pretty sure I’d kill someone if I tried to do this to their neck. And, I would never give you a lead that obvious.”

Pax grumbled in Mayan. If Axel was leaving territorial marks, he could have looked into whether or not Reyna or Thalia had gotten a sudden propensity for scarves. Pax couldn’t believe he’d been so busy that he didn’t even have a guess as to which girl was Axel’s new best friend and which was his nibble buddy.

“When she’s ready for it to become public…” Axel trailed off. He puffed up his cheeks and popped them. “Then you’ll know. I’m not exactly fond of keeping our relationship a secret.” There was a hint of bitterness.

Pax huffed. “Augh, that’s no help either! Is it secret because of Thalia’s connection to the huntresses or Reyna’s position as praetor? You wouldn’t violate Thalia’s vows, but you also wouldn’t want to jeopardize Reyna’s already shaky claim as praetor. And I don’t know whether or not you thought relieving sexual tension through neck play was a way around Thalia’s vows—”

“Ajax,” Axel warned. “Girlfriend or friend, I don’t even let Jack speak disrespectfully of someone I care about.”

“Does Jack know?!” Pax demanded.

Alabaster cleared his throat. “I think Lapis may have let it slip.”

Which meant Lapis knew. Dude, Axel sucked at keeping secrets. “Ha! You didn’t mention Bast! Besides, if it was her, she’s not one to get catty with the other girls, but would be prideful about her including Axel in her pride.”

“Not necessarily,” Alabaster said. “She’s supposed to be in the Duat. She’s been sneaking off to visit us.”

Axel’s cheeks grew red.

Pax’s eyes widened. “Oh?”

“It’s not Bast,” Axel said curtly, eliminating one. “She’s a bit too… maternal and and—um—aggressive for me.”

Pax shook his head. “Ah, having a hot familial figure that wants to bang you. Now you know how I feel when I go on lunch dates with my half-sister.”

Before the elevator dinged for the complete stop at the top floor, something phased through the shiny metal. It scurried up Pax’s pant leg, tiny nails tearing into the silky fabric, saving Pax from Axel and Alabaster’s glares.

Between the “Aye! Aye! Aye!”s, Pax laughed. Baller, his weasel, burrowed into Pax’s sleeve, nesting into his armpit. Once the door opened, two more weasels scurried about their feet. Axel knelt down to pet Hunnie on the nose and accepted when the weasel wrapped around his hand in a battle strike. Alabaster tossed Nietzsche, the albino, something.

All three took off after whatever the dark object was as it scuttled further into the atrium. Obsidian doors were in the wall across from the elevator doors, one ajar to allow the rodents to enter. Pax wasn’t sure what to do with remodeling the atrium yet. It was imposing, as he felt like it should be, but they also lacked something fun, like bean bags and a dartboard with Jason Grace’s face.[3]

He really wanted Matthias to design a twenty story slide or fireman’s pole from this room to the bottom of the temple. Matthias said that would kill too many new recruits. Pax argued that it wouldn’t if they made it end in 20 feet of feathers. Alabaster said Pax didn’t understand the science of impact, but that Alabaster would see if he and Lou Ellen could make some kind of Mist buffer to accomplish the task.

Giggles interrupted Pax’s thoughts.

Just inside the doorway, he could see three girls duck out of sight. The sunlight in the room had glinted off their crimson skin so they looked like vanishing demons or, as Pax preferred, ethnically-ambiguous cartoon characters.

“Huh, Euna must be tending to the—” Alabaster started.

Pax gulped and sprinted for the door. “Cho!”

Axel immediately caught up along his side as they busted through the doorway. “What?!”

“I let Hiro loose!” Pax said. He’d meant it as a kind gesture—honestly, his littlest brother needed to get out from time to time, but Hiro and Euna hadn’t been in the same room since—

They skidded to a stop inside. Everything sounded peacefully quiet. In Pax’s not-peaceful life, he knew that meant everyone had probably killed each other. The sound that shredded the peace was a blade sliding against another blade.

Comforting.

More giggles erupted.

Axel and Pax scanned the room. There had been a lot of adjustments. The massive walnut trees expanded to form a canopy over the front section of the enormous throne room. Light could still come from the square dome at the top of the ceiling, especially with the mirrors they added to optimize the amount of sun, but the atrium was still dimmer than pre-forest times.

In the center of the room, where Eris’ pithos once sat atop an alter, was Joey’s statue, still smiling with pride. That and the throne were lit magnificently. Pax had made sure of it. Both to honor Joey and to annoy her if she could still sense the brightness.

The two tables that had once been used for meetings had been removed, leaving the throne in the back as the only piece of real furniture.

In a maze across the ceiling, Pax had added metal bars, like monkey bars constructed by a maniac, with ladders installed on either side of the wall to reach them.

That’s where they found the chaos.

A fourteen-year-old half-Japanese boy dangled from the bars beside a tree that was further from the rest. His legs bobbed uselessly under him as he scrambled to catch one of the crimson nymphs.

Pax knew there would be sixteen of those monstrosities in total, but he only spotted about a dozen in the branches, playing Keep Away with his littlest brother.

A crimson nymph curled up in a softly sobbing ball away from the others. Near her, Pax caught sight of Euna. She was, Pax assumed, pruning some of that nymph’s branches. Although most of the branches were thicker than her arm, Euna snipped them off with single strikes.

He knew the last nymph would be by the former fire pit, and was too small to play with the others. Euna had already named that dryad Resilience since it was a sapling stubbornly sprouting from Santiago’s tree stump.

The walnut trees had red leaves, like the color of the nymph’s skin, hair, and eyes. Something about not having enough light for typical photosynthesis—bla-bla-bla—chemistry—bla-bla-bla—child of Demeter. All Pax cared about was the fact that Euna had NOT decided to prune Hiro’s functional limbs.

Axel and Pax sighed in relief. Alabaster strolled in behind them, unconcerned.

At their hurried entrance, some of the nymphs disappeared back into their trees. Euna set her shears down, then touched the snipped off sections. The bark rippled, healing over the nubs to leave little more than a scar. She knelt down beside the sobbing dryad, gently brushing away her tears with her work gloves. “Your branches were criss-crossed. We had to pick the strongest branch, since they would have been sickly if we kept both,” she said.

The nymph sniffed and crawled up to lean into Euna’s long, black hair that hung over her shoulder.

Euna awkwardly patted her back. Then, she gently set the nymph back into her tree.

Once done, she brushed her gloves on her jeans and walked towards them. The vines and leaves dangling from her hair and limbs seemed to whisper with each step. Pax loved the fact that she hadn’t learned to control the whole “god glow” thing. It meant he wouldn’t trip over her when she found odd areas to nap or that he could use her as a nightlight.

At Alabaster’s raised eyebrow, Euna shrugged. “It’s not their fault that they’re full grown and have the mental capacity of toddlers.”

As much as Euna looked disinterested, she had been tending to these trees, and the former-fire-pit-new-garden, religiously. Axel and Pax had been worried about their favorite homicidal Korean until they brought her into this room and the dryads flocked to her like creepy, Satanic ducklings to their mother. When they were a little more developed, he was sure they’d run shrieking, “Mom’s home!”anytime Euna returned from missions.

The creepy blood-born babies brought Euna peace and purpose beyond murder. Plus, it sort of solved the satanic dryad infestation. Still there, but at least they were more like pets and Hiro’s playmates than unwanted rodents. (Pax heard that most people didn’t want rodents in their houses, which he thought absurd.)

Euna smiled at Axel as she tossed something at his head from her pocket. “Happy early birthday.”

Axel caught it, flashing a fanged grin. They’d been playing a lot of “surprise” catch to work on her situational awareness. He held up the glass vial with something gold and fleshy inside. Attached to the lid were a pair of familiar sunglasses that seemed to glow with an internal fire. “Is this—”

“A trophy from our fight last week?” she said. “Yea. Congrats. One down. Eleven to go.”

Axel looked ecstatic. He hugged the heart-jar close to him with one hand, then held out the other in a fist. “Pound it,” he said.

She fist bumped him. Her dark eyes searched around in lazy confusion. “Why isn’t Kally with you?”

“Yea, Ajax, why did we deviate from the plan?” Alabaster asked, shooting him a side-glare.

Pax had been hoping to avoid this conversation for as long as possible. At least now he had the perfect illustration as to his reasoning. “Because you just gave Axel a heart in a jar as a birthday gift.”

“I thought it was very considerate and sweet,” Axel objected. He stepped around the group, walking towards the back wall. As he crossed paths with Joey’s statue, he nodded a greeting, then he continued forward, to put the jar in the section they’d designated for trophies.

Pax pondered over installing a modern art piece on the back wall. They already had the Triple A Chimera helms mounted there and Phobetor’s piccolo-hatchet. If they were going to have a menagerie of random godly item and organs, you might as well shape them into a weasel.

“Where’s Lapis?” Pax asked, watching Hiro snatch at a dryad. The girl giggled and hopped to a different branch. He swung down from the monkey bars, onto the tree, not realizing how hard he’d smashed his knees into another branch. They needed to buy him shin guards or a riot shield for his legs.

“With the new recruits,” Euna said. “How’d the talk with Reyna go about the soldiers defecting from New Rome?”

Axel snorted. “We’re protecting defectors and her reputation is on the line. How well do you think it went?”

“So it was the huntress!” Pax said and snapped his fingers.

Euna gave Pax a confused glance. “Do you mean Thalia? She hasn’t been a huntress for… um…” Her eyebrows furrowed. “The middle of the sweet potato harvest?”

The fact that time had become difficult for their sprouting godling wasn’t the part of that sentence interested Pax.

“A month,” Axel supplied, patiently “You and I celebrated her physical sweet sixteen with her, Percy, and Annabeth about a month ago.”

“Holy Titans,” Pax whined, “So she—”

Before he could start guessing, Euna waved him off, sprinkling him with dirt from her gloves. “It didn’t have to do anything with me or Axel.”

Axel shook his head. “The prophecy she was trying to prevent is over and she has paid proper homage to her fallen friend. She had some other reasons, but they didn’t have to do with any current romantic intentions.” The way he said it labeled the topic clearly with Off Limits.

“Hrm, and an argument between you and Reyna could easily end in a nomnom fest. Augh!” Pax ran a hand through his hair, messing up the gel and pulling more out of his ponytail. “How have I become such a terrible information gatherer?”

“I don’t know. You were gone on one of your ‘business’ meetings,” Axel said.

The first month had been insane. Pax had to meet with a lot of contacts, both in the pharmaceutical world and mythological one, to prove Santiago wasn’t dead. He and Claymore had spent many a torturous session on how to conduct a business meeting without discussing anything serious, so Claymore could handle emails that involved real dealings. And, there had been the rebranding. Pretending Santiago had found God or whatever they decided to change some of the “business” practices.

Technically, Pax supposed, Santiago had found some god.

Pax’s stomach clenched to think of some of the stuff that happened to him when Axel was too “busy” during their time at Camp Othrys. One glance at Axel’s bitter glare, and Pax calmed.

“Hey,” he protested at Axel and Alabaster’s scowls, “I got this. You promised me. Six months. I know that’s an insanely long time for neither of you to have an aneurism, but I have four more months of unquestioned Pax tyranny and I think I’ve been taking pretty good care of us so far. Reese’s Sticks for everyone!”

“Yea, but how much of that time have you spent as you?” Axel asked. His ears flattened against his hairline.

Alabaster nodded. “You haven’t pulled a single prank in a month or worked on any art projects. Matthias has a calendar recording it.”

Euna made a face. “How does Matthias have time for that?”

Pax puffed up his cheeks and popped them, swearing prank vengeance on Matthias as soon as he had time to conduct a proper prank. He pressed the stump of his hand into his ribs. His eyes drifted to Joey’s statue, to what Hera had done to her, and to the Leonis Caput helm and to what the god of war—former god of war, he corrected gleefully—and the goddess of love had done to Axel. That was why he had to do this.

That’s also why he couldn’t break down in front of the others. They needed a strong leader, else Alabaster wouldn’t be able to focus on cracking the curse of Joey’s statue, Axel wouldn’t be able to finally relax enough to play bump in the night with the girl he liked or set up the training regiment for their newbies, Euna… Euna would probably do whatever Euna wanted to, but he liked to think she’d have a harder time focusing on her new god-powers and sanity without him putting forward some effort.

And, he wasn’t ready to admit to them the problems he was still in denial about, like the times he’d gotten stuck as Santiago and called Atë in a panic as he scratched and clawed at his own face. At Santiago’s face? Pax looked too much like the photos to glance in mirrors anymore. That’s when the private lessons started of How to Be a God 101. Atë had taught him how to alter a single feature on his face, so no one would notice the gashes. She had taught him a lot.

He forced himself not to tremble.

Pax gave them a devilish smile, realizing he must have missed a response from Axel. “If I fail, you’re allowed to pull my ear off. If it works, I’m punishment-free for another six months.” He winked at Alabaster. “Then I can coddle Witch boy without interruption.”

Alabaster sighed. “Ajax, don’t make me sabotage Camp Othrys to maintain my dignity. I will.”

“I will be allowed to court him in polite, gentlefolk fashion,” Pax corrected. “Girls can court people too nowadays, Witch Boy.” He winked again.

“You’re not a girl,” Alabaster said, not looking at him or Axel. Axel made the terrible mistake of thinking Alabaster was the older of the two, so would blame anything that happened on him.

“I can if I want to be,” Pax said. This was when he was supposed to bump Alabaster’s hip if he was acting normal, but he couldn’t bring himself to, not when he had been Santiago so often. He wished he could pretend, like he had for that second by the van.

“Kally hits hard now,” Axel observed, saving Alabaster a response. He rubbed his shoulder, the same spot that Kally had given each of them a solid welt.

Pax refrained from touching his with his stump. He and Alabaster exchanged a glance before Pax glared at Axel. “I know your vetting process for Axel’s List of Requirements for Taste in Sexy Ladies. Don’t get any ideas.”

Axel laughed, clearly not catching onto Pax’s threatening tone or the way Alabaster had set a hand on his spell pouches. “I’m just saying that she must still be training with Mr. Paine,” Axel said, “She must be bored, or even scared having to deal with monsters on her own. You said you were going to bring her, Ajax, and tell the others about this.” That bitterness returned to his voice. “And I think Lapis is going to kill you if we don’t have Merry start sessions with Hiro.”

“Look at him. He’s as happy as a condor with a deer carcass,” Pax said, gesturing to where Hiro had latched himself to one of the braches and was biting at the bark. They really needed to get him down before he fell again. Hiro didn’t need the lower half of his body when he was doing the horizontal swing of the monkey bars, but he struggled more with the vertical jumps on the trees.

Hiro, as they discovered, did not like looking up. It sent him into a fit. So, Pax reasoned, they would just make it so Hiro could move all around the temple without much up to look at. That didn’t work though when one of the more malicious dryads tricked him to the lower branches and he couldn’t boost himself up to climb and couldn’t use his legs to jump down.

“For now. You know he’ll fall apart when his medication wears off,” Alabaster muttered.

Pax couldn’t argue. “We do need a healer…” he said softly. “I just don’t know if Kally is ready for… this.” He gestured widely to Santiago’s throne room with its demonic dryads and eerie gloom and doom.

“Are you trying to make sure someone is comfortable?” Euna asked skeptically.

“No, I live to discomfort others,” Pax said.

Alabaster sighed. He reached into Pax’s pocket to withdraw his phone and set it into Pax’s hand. “We need a healer in more ways than one.”

Axel’s shoulder slumped. “And maybe someone to keep us in check. If it ever gets to the point that you don’t feel like you can have Kally here, maybe we’ve gone too far.”

Pax wanted to say Exhibit A and point to the heart in a jar, but he knew they were talking about his recent fad for dress up. Just one more week though. Then some poor Belizean tourists would find “Santiago Pax” dead in a swamp and his will would divvy up his fortune with his recently acquitted son, Axel Pax, as the executor.[4]

Would that change anything for Pax though?

There was still so much to do. Others could do it so much better than Pax, well “Pax” as himself. It had been so much easier not being himself.

If Kally were here, he would have to do things a different way. She could read all of them like a book. Stupid authors and their assumptions on people’s—haha—character. She wouldn’t let him do his weekly visits with his half-sister, or sequester himself in his room under the guise of business meetings, or talk to the new recruits as Santiago because Santiago was so much better as a leader than he was.

Maybe she could help him find a balance between serious, tyrant Pax and that soft child-prankster. What he normally was. If nothing else, her presence would get Alabaster and Axel off his back. Kally would probably be so lost adjusting the first week, she wouldn’t be able to keep track of him and his movements or who he was. If he set Alabaster up as her tour guide, then they’d both be too distracted—

What was Pax thinking?! He had to be there if Alabaster and Kally would be battling for cutest and most oblivious flirt.

Axel had thought this through too well.

Pax sighed heavily. He shoved the phone back into his pocket, squared his shoulders, and tried—as best as he’d learned with one hand—to smooth his hair back into a tighter ponytail.

Alabaster tapped the bracelet on Pax’s wrist.

Mist emanated from the silver and gold band and twisted until it formed a hand. Pax still got phantom limb spasms, but at least the Mist hand worked. He smoothed the gel back down. His stray hair, this week he took to calling it One Who Dodges Hair Ties, popped out to curl down his cheek.

“Can I at least make an official announcement?” Pax pouted.

Axel stepped out of the path to the throne. After a split second of her staring off into the trees, he dragged Euna out of the way too.

Pax walked through the room. As he passed Joey’s statue, he gave their marbled friend a quick kiss on the cheek, something he’d done every day they moved her here. Had he found out that she had a crush for him before she died, he’d have teased her relentlessly, and decided to make up for it during her stone age.

“I bought you a pre-released recording session for EXO,” he said, “I heard Suho’s vocals can crack any girl’s hardened heart.”

He set the CD at her feet. He still couldn’t believe people bought CDs. That was supposed to be for creatures that walked the earth hundreds of years ago. Later, they would have to pull the old CD player they’d salvaged out of Santiago’s room to give her some easy listening.

Pax continued forward, forcing himself to look at the Leonis Caput helm on the back wall. It felt right to have a heart in a jar nearby. The sight made him wonder if Alabaster had put Pax’s severed hand in a bottle of formaldehyde and it was now floating somewhere in the Witch Boy’s laboratory. Pax wished he could still move the limb despite being severed. Then he’d make it wave to Alabaster every time he knew Alabaster was in his lab. Questions to ask Atë when next he saw her.

Finally, Pax leveled with the throne of bones that was sewn together with tendons. He’d thrown a smiling panda car seat over it. Baby steps in remodeling.

When he sat down—bones were very uncomfortable; Pax didn’t know what his father had been thinking—he saw Alabaster mid-eyebrow raise, Axel trying not to avert his gaze, and Euna staring off at Hiro as he chased a dryad around the canopy.

He cleared his throat. “I promise to kidnap Kally—”

“Bring Kally with parental knowledge and consent,” Axel corrected.

“Hey.” Pax glared at the interruption. “We’re not shooting for gold and diamonds here.”

Euna shrugged, proving she was paying attention. “It went well with my dad.”

All three boys shifted uncomfortably. “You call that ‘well?’” Alabaster asked.

“Your dad hits really hard for a mortal,” Axel said, though Pax couldn’t tell if it was a compliment or a complaint.

“He kept up with his military training,” Euna said, “I think he’s supposed to be visiting sometime this week.”

Alabaster and Pax groaned. Mr. Song had a very strict expectation for his daughters’ livelihood and Camp Othrys II didn’t meet it.

“Anyway,” Pax said, “I hereby say that Kally shall come here, but under one condition and one condition only.” He pointed a finger at Axel. “You tell me which girl got your neck.”

Axel’s jaw started to clench, but his lips curved into a tired smile. “You know what? Deal. You bring in Kally, I’ll leave hints that any capable spymaster should be able to figure out.”

“Ah, a challenge,” Pax said. He couldn’t decide if he was thrilled or annoyed. The fact that it was a question between the two emotions made Pax wonder if Alabaster and Axel were right: he needed to relax and smell the puff pastries.

“Assuming you have the time to take said challenge.” Axel examined his claws on his right hand. His pointer and middle finger barely had new growth from when they ripped off in the Labyrinth. Pax decided not to ask, since it was so inappropriate—

“Is it easier to court your girl now that those fingers have become more versatile?” Pax asked.

Alabaster choked on a laugh.

From somewhere in the trees, Hiro whistled.[5]

Axel’s face deepened to crimson. Those fingers curled into a fist. “Ajax, you have four months left before I can rip off your ear.”

“Allegedly,” Alabaster said.

“I think it was a reasonable question,” Euna said, “Those claws have gotta get in the way.”

Axel tried to keep his expression neutral as he changed the subject. “How are we going to tell Kally about this?” He gestured to their trophy wall: trophies from the minor gods that they had killed—two tiny gods and now one major. Ta-da! Pax was really proud of them for sticking to their New Year’s Resolution. Some people went to gyms. Some people slew a deity per month.

“Maybe we should ease her more into this,” Alabaster said.

Pax had to agree. Glancing from Joey’s statue to the Leonis Caput helm, he felt a smile crawl onto his lips. A malicious glee made him tap the armrest of his bone throne. In an instance that made him realize just how desperately they needed Kally to keep them in check, he leaned forward and asked, “The real question is: One down. Eleven to go. Who are we going after next?”

***

All the Author’s Notes!

This concludes the Traitors of Olympus series. For those of you who have made it through all of this madness, I can’t thank you enough for taking this journey with me, and it has been a crazy journey. (Pax is sobbing behind me. I think I saw Axel wipe a tear away too. Nope. Nope, that’s just him showing off his claws…) I hope you were able to enjoy this ending (it is VERY different than its original conception) and I really hope you’ve enjoyed the ride! As always, I’d love to hear any of your thoughts on the series, favorite ships, favorite scenes, favorite characters, or even for you just to say a quick, “Hi!” XD You guys rock and made this possible! (I’m not crying while writing this, I swear)

By September, I’m aiming to have the first short from Tales from Mount Othrys out, the prologue to this series, so you might not be rid of me just yet. Hold onto those pitchforks!

***

Thank you so much to Mel, my betatester and close friend, for inspiring me and encouraging me to keep going (and doting on my babies while I traumatize them). I would have crashed and burned forever ago without you. <3

And, lastly, I wanted to write a quick dedication to my Merry: I know you’re never going to read this, but this is how I wish things could have gone for you and your Nikhil. I’m sorry everything didn’t turn out like a storybook ending—you did everything you could with what was given to you. Please, remember that, and remember to take care of yourself. Nikhil, I hope you’ve found your favorite place to jam to comedy R&B in the Elysian Fields, hanging with the other heroes, like you, who are so good at bringing a smile to people’s faces.

***

Footnotes:

[1] Tyche vs. Prometheus. I think Tyche would win, because luck always destroys careful planning.

[2] Yea, I know Pax hit on him as a girl. Pax will still consider that making Alabaster question his sexuality, since Pax believes Alabaster’s sexuality is exclusively dedicated to his laboratory.

[3] Some things never change. Though Jack does think Jason Grace and Axel are now friends much to Pax’s pouty distaste.

[4] In Mel’s betanotes, she read this first as the Pokemon, “Exeggutor” and thought of an Axel version of that. I mean… Axel is both a psychic and nature type….

[5] Melbeta note, “HIRO FUCKING WHISTLED YOU GO YOU SMOL CHEEKY LITTLE PAX GET YOUR KICKS WHERE YOU CAN GET THEM XD XD … OH GOSH THAT PUN WASN’T INTENDED AND WAS MEANER THAN I EVER MEANT I’M SO SORRY!” Jack, “I couldn’t stop laughing at this. I think you understand why I needed to put this in here XD”

#Traitors of Olympus #TOO #THE LAST FUCKING CHAPTER!!!!#I'm not crying--you're crying!#seriously-a huge shoutout and thank you to Mel for this. I couldn't have done it without her.#Weird that I worked on this for three years #The time before Pax was convieved and I DIDN'T have his shit all over my room now #Seriously thank you guys for reading #comment or Axel might punch you in the face #or is that incentive not to comment for those Axel fangirls?#Meow?#Damn it I just need to make myself press the post button...

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