#getting personal in the tags on this Wednesday night woo | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kicktwine · 2 years

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I have more thoughts about ventus than one person should reasonably have about ventus and that means I have more little written notes and headcanons and aus with the boy than one person should reasonably have and since I’ve ALREADY made a myriad of posts about the headcanons part I am just going to fastball special a bunch of unfinished google docs into this post so that they stop Staring At Me alright okay WOO

i wanted to write something about ven and vani stuck in Sora’s heart for ten years and how they communicate by just. temporarily murdering each other and now it’s homestuck formatted

proto-horrorwolves snippet, so basically just a wayfinders werewolf au

When they had first brought Ven home -- well, they didn’t know his name then, he was sick and asleep and he didn’t turn back from fully shifted for weeks. The whoever-before had given him a tag, on his ear -- just a stud earring with a number on it, not a name. He said it was to be able to tell them apart, later, when he could say. It didn’t really register that the number wasn’t for neglect reasons, or even lack-of-a-name reasons, but it was for please-someone-who-am-I reasons and this-isn’t-my-body reasons, and it worked only as well as it could.

Anyways, when they had first carried him home from the middle of nowhere and dusted off the snow and laid him down on their threadbare college off-campus housing couch he stayed there and slept for so long they started to worry that they’d have to get someone else to look at him. Like a vet, if he didn’t turn back soon, however embarrassing that might be later. But they didn’t end up needing to, because one night on a Wednesday he adjusted himself on the couch to be more comfortable and the next day they found the soft thawed-out carrots and plain chicken they had put on a plate and left on the floor were nibbled at and the next day he picked his head up and actually looked at them. He seemed to be recovering from whatever-it-was at his own pace, slow and steady and wary.

Which was good, probably, because neither Terra nor Aqua really had any expertise with taking care of a very sick and injured dog (a sick werewolf, actually, which is way worse according to Aqua and it makes Terra whine at her), and they didn’t have a lot of money besides. All they had was patience and a small apartment with two bedrooms and a couch and a window they kept open just a little bit to smell the outdoors and a bit of love for a strange and broken kid-in-the-woods. And maybe that was all they needed, because it worked out just fine.

Terra didn’t have class on Fridays, but Aqua did, two of them in the morning, which sucked. No one should have class on Friday. As per routine, he ate breakfast with her, very gently scratched behind the kid wolf’s ears, and headed back to his desk in his room to get a headstart on homework before he had to go to work-work, which was only later than 6 am on Monday-Wednesday-Friday. Not his job to take care of any cows those days, he wasn’t full-time yet.

It was about three questions in to the statistics class he had to take because his ACT was a point short that Terra heard a soft shift from the living room, and a startlingly loud huff. Might’a been louder to him, on account of the inhuman hearing, but it was followed by a low growl, and another, much harsher huff of air. Terra abandoned the math questions with a start, nearly tripping over the wire between the doorway.

“You okay, bud?” Terra asked, and then startled again, because the couch was empty. And the couch was empty because there on the floor, sitting with his hands — hands! — splayed out and his chest heaving and his knees awkwardly up in a froggy sort of way sat a small, scruffy, dirty blonde boy, his back to Terra. As soon as Terra spoke, though, his head lifted and he looked at him with bright green and very very human eyes.

Terra gaped. “Oh,” he said, and then a little louder rounding the couch, “Oh!”

He forgot what personal space was for a second, and sat right down in front of the boy. The boy reeled back a little from it, a very canine motion with one of his hands up, but Terra didn’t realize he might have crossed a line until later. As it was, he ran a gentle hand through the boy’s unkempt hair and grinned at him. “You did it! You turned back!”

The boy opened his mouth and then closed it at the faint whispering croak that came out, and nodded instead, his expression cautiously open, but obviously proud of himself. As he should be!

It was pure tolerance and sleepiness that made the boy endure Terra’s gentle prodding around, something that definitely wouldn’t happen with Vanitas, but that’s a different story. He’d not got much on, the magic that facilitated the transformation letting you keep your clothes mostly, but it wasn’t really used to staying dormant for so long and ended up in scraps that kind of clung to him. He looked like he’d been roughed up beforehand too, still-healing scrapes along his bare shoulders and a concerning number of very neat and orderly scars on his chest, but Terra’s first thought was honestly just to take off the hoodie he was wearing and pop it over the boy’s head, because he looked a little cold and his shirt was nonexistent. The boy looked surprised, and wrinkled his nose at the new smell, but hugged it a little closer. He’d need better shorts, or something, too, maybe Terra would just steal a pair of Aqua’s. The hoodie was huge on his little stick limbs, Terra’s shorts would be immediately useless.

As he was inspecting, the boy was doing some inspecting of his own — eyes wide and searching around the living room that he could think about clearly now that he shifted back. He let Terra move him a little, but avoided leaving himself in the same spots, awkwardly trying not to be touched anyways. The hoodie was nice, though. Comforting, and warm.

The boy was young, Terra concluded, but didn’t have the scent of a youngling. He was immediately submissive to the adult in the room and as long as Terra had lived he’d always made sure everyone knew the hierarchy system was kind of bs but in this case it came in handy, for making sure the boy was alright and for making sure he wasn’t gonna start fighting the instant he got better. One of his slightly averted eyes was a little cloudy, and his blonde hair was almost a mullet at that point though it probably wasn’t meant to be. He had kind of knobby-knuckled hands that poked out of Terra’s sweater, long and small and a teenager. Not that much younger than him, but young.

Terra scruffed up his hair once more and refrained, barely, from giving a bear hug or something. “Oh, bud, we gotta tell Aqua. You did it!” he repeated, and pulled out his phone.

The boy cocked his head. “Wh… what,” he started, and then stopped. It was a little hard to remember the correct words, and how to make them with a person-mouth. He sounded wispy at best. Luckily, Terra could kind of guess, or at least fill the silence.

“I’m gonna text Aqua with this and tell her to come back home. She’s the other person who lives here,” Terra explained, and typed aqua come home rihgt now.

The reply was almost instant, and it made his phone bing because he kept it off silent, which startled the boy. He craned his neck to see better. I just got to sociology. Why?

hangon

As stealthily as he could with the boy watching his every move, Terra pointed the camera at him and took a picture, covering the speaker so the noise wasn’t so loud. It startled him again anyways, but only in a curiosity way. He looked a bit like a deer in the headlights on the screen, and Terra sent the image.

omg

Is that him???

I’m coming back right now.

The boy lifted a hand almost as if to paw at the phone, but put it down. Terra turned the screen around anyways, and the boy squinted at it, slowly mouthing out letters then words then stopping and restarting.

“She says she’s coming back,” Terra supplied. “She’ll be 20 minutes, probably.”

“H-her…” he motioned above his head a bit, his hands stuttering. “...blue?”

“Yes! Aqua has blue hair.”

The boy brightened at the implied praise. He should, Terra thought, probably figure out what the boy’s name is, so he can stop calling him boy. He may not even want to be ”boy” at all, Terra knew nothing about him other than how he was rather small and didn’t seem to remember how to read that well or speak with much more than a few raspy words. Whatever could have done that was still very worrisome, but Terra decided to take things one at a time, as he usually did.

…

horrorwolves again but this time! published auverse

Ansem Report 13 10/02/2006 - compiled events - phase end.

Subject I: terminated upon transformation.

Subject II: terminated upon transformation.

Subject III: terminated upon transformation.

Subject IV: terminated upon transformation.

Subject V: 132.5cm/sh, grey, blue o. Successful fusion (2). Terminated upon fusion (X).

Subject VI: 165cm/sh, black, yellow o. Successful fusion (7), minimal degradation. Unknown location.

Subject VII: 170.5cm/sh, white, green o. Successful fusion (5), severe degradation. Terminated upon fusion (VI). Unconfirmed.

Subject VIII: 138cm/sh, red, brown o. Terminated by VII.

Subject IX: 141cm/sh, brown, blue o. Terminated by VI.

Subject X: 186.5cm/sh, black, red o. Successful fusion (3), minimal degradation. Unknown location.

Subject X.i: terminated upon transformation.

Subject XI: 131cm/sh, black, blue o. Terminated by VI.

Subject XII: 172cm/sh, grey, brown o. Terminated upon fusion (X).

Subject XII.i: 172cm/sh, grey, green o. Terminated by XII.

Subject XIII: 163cm/sh, yellow, blue o. Successful fusion (4). Unknown location.

Subject XIII.i: 163cm/sh, black, blue o. Successful fusion (4). Unknown location.

Ansem Report 6 05/05/2006

Another experiment ended in failure due to unavoidable degradation of one subject’s mind and body. It seems to occur due to the “fusion pool”’s inability to tag attributes as belonging to one or another… with that in mind, is it truly unavoidable?

The failure of past subjects to retain their individual forms after separation can be remedied, theoretically, if both minds and bodies are exactly the same. Under better circumstances I would prefer to attempt this on human beings before attempting it on creatures already touched by Her light, as they’re far less predictable, and I would be remiss to lose everything as difficult as these. They are much more complicated than sheep, at the very least. But perhaps they will take to it better for the same reasons.

We have been given a secondary facility to accommodate our new work.

...

more small fun horrorwolves bits, and l o r e

“Are you new?”

“Yeah, um. Freshman.”

“That’s so cool!” Ven says, completely meaning it. He’s shuffling back and forth excitedly from foot to foot, a gesture that solidifies his wolf status to Riku — he knows that habit. He outgrew it years ago, when he was a puppy, and still had soft baby fur. Ven does not seem to care. “How come I didn’t see you out like, two weeks ago?”

Riku rubs the back of his neck, reluctant to give… honestly any information over, even though his internal danger meter is dropping rapidly the more he talks to Ventus. He doesn’t look like he’s prodding for weakness or anything. Though, that is what you’re supposed to avoid doing, when you prod for weakness. “I was inside,” Riku concedes.

“Inside?” Ven gapes. “No way! You could have come with us!”

“I didn’t know that,” Riku mutters.

“Oh yeah.” (Shoot better hearing he forgot about that) “Well, you know now! You should meet Terra! Here, I have to go to class, but hang on,” Ven says, and snatches Riku’s phone from where it was hanging limply in his hand, about a second away from going into sleep mode. Riku just blinks in stunned awkwardness until he finishes typing something, and pops the phone back into Riku’s palm./////

//// “We have chicken wings. Regular kind and barbecue.”

“Don’t bribe him, Ven.”

The Ven in question sidles up closer to Riku and whispers “And the good pizza. Not Little Caesars, we went to Pizza Hut.”

“Ventus.”

“Garlic saaaauce.”

Riku suppresses a snort. “I don’t want to be conspicuous. Or… intruding.”

/// “Yyyyes!” Ven yips, “Riku’s coming!!” ///

Oohhh I can just do three separate things abt werewolves

///// “Technically there’s no such thing as ‘light magic’,” Aqua starts. “Because it’s not magic at all. ‘Light magic’ relies on natural processes, mathematics, things that make sense when they happen. People found light magic centuries ago and called it medicine. There’s nothing magical about it. By contrast, dark magic is things happening that don’t make sense. Forcing things to exist, or not exist, breaking rules, turning iron into gold, things like that. It’s not a moral binary, either. The sun rules the light, and will burn crops that don’t get water because that’s what happens to plants without water. The moon rules the dark, and will keep plants alive for thousands of years simply because someone wants it to be. That’s… does that make sense?”

“I think so?” says Sora, and he flips the silver crown charm on his necklace to the other side of his mouth. “It’s just science and weird science.”

“More or less. I doubt you could call magic science, etymologically.”

“How does dark magic work, then? Can I just decide I want to live forever?”

“Dark magic relies on the abuse of the light. Tricking it into performing something else. It’s the moon that allows it to be blinded like that, in the first place, though no one actually knows how, since research is… thin, and not there yet. And hardly ever published, aside from individual scholars all discovering the same things,” Aqua says, pursing her lips. “It’s not unexplainable. It is undiscovered.”

:// “Lycanthropy is, as far as we know, a strain of magic that in itself has mutated to be more like a virus.” ///

“There are theories about why it is the moon that does this. Lots of people think it has something to do with being a reflection of light, some perversion of the ‘right’ way things work, but the important thing to know is if you aren’t careful, and you use dark magic too much, the sun will hurt you. As it is, you’re fine, it’s just more natural to be shifted at night.”

“Oh… wait! Is that why vampires melt in the sun??” Sora gasps.

“I’m amused but not surprised you went straight to vampires.”

“Am I right?”

Aqua taps her pencil to her mouth. “Technically yes — well. Yes and no. Vampires are just dark magicians who want more power than they can handle, so they kinda have to resort to things like purified blood and sleeping a lot. They can’t actually turn anyone else.”

Sora falls back in his seat. “Nuts.”

“Why is that a ‘nuts’? What were you planning?” Riku asks.

/////

“Ventus! Vanitas! Sit down!” Terra yells. Both wolves recoil at the force with which the command comes, and Ventus’ tail drops, but neither of them stop snarling at each other. All it takes is for Vanitas to raise his hackles again and they’re on each other in an instant, snapping and throwing each other across the floor. Terra growls in frustration, pulls a slight transformation over himself, and steps directly in between them. He gets Vanitas by the scruff first, and shoves Ventus backwards with one foot. As soon as their attention is half-him half-each other, Terra pours as much force as he can into his voice and snaps “Change!” They do, if in uncomfortable bursts. Like they’re fighting to be the last one still changed. Ventus shakes himself off as he comes out of it, panting, his hands gripping the carpet like his claws are still snagged. Vanitas writhes in Terra’s grip, and can only contort himself so much to re-establish furious eye contact with Ven and snarl another wordless challenge. Ventus jumps forwards, but Terra presses his foot harder into his shoulder where it ended up and he withdraws. The pure electricity in the air is making Riku nauseous.

//////// “Ven,” Terra says, firmly, “I’m not budging on this.” Ventus glares, silently challenging him. Terra huffs and returns the challenge, and it almost immediately makes Ventus avert his stare and turn away, his pout deepening. “Fine,” he mutters. “Thank you.” Ventus practically stomps over to Riku, seething. On the way past, he snags Riku’s sleeve, and Vanitas gets snagged by Terra and pulled into the opposite room. Once they’re out of each others’ range, Ventus lets out a breath and scrubs at his eyes. Riku nudges the door half-closed so they don’t hear Terra and Vanitas’ conversation. “What was that? I’ve never seen you mad at anything.” Ventus snorts, his hand briefly recoiling at a bloody scratch near his temple. He scowls at it and wipes his hand viciously on his pants. “He’s annoying.” “Okay, but so is Demyx, and you haven’t attacked him. What’s it really?” Riku asks. Ventus growls, and cuts himself short with a stuttered sigh as he realizes it doesn’t quite work the same with a human throat. “…You know how you and Sora are?” He asks. Riku nods. “It’s kind of like that. You guys are equals and partners and you get along great. But we’re totally equal and it makes me mad. It feels itchy. And he knows it makes me mad! /////

giving ven a hard time by tossing him in the phantom pain zone

Terra cracks open the door and peeks in. It’s still almost totally dark, the blinds flipped all the way upward to banish light to the ceiling. The intrusion sends a long beam of hallway-light over a curled-up figure in bed, who makes a distressed noise and curls up further, blocking his eyes with his elbows.

Terra quickly steps in and shuts the door again, returning the room to its comfortable half-dark. Ven doesn’t talk to him further.

“You okay?” Terra prompts. Ven makes a “hmm.” noise, one that means he doesn’t want to say he isn’t, but he isn’t.

“D’you feel sick?”

He makes the noise again, smaller. Terra kneels, and gently pushes Ven’s hand away from his forehead to feel it. One of them in a fist, the other tangled in his hair. He’s hot, almost feverish, but not in the sticky-warm way he’s used to meaning sick. Ven lets the air in his lungs out through his teeth in an uneven shudder, and Terra notices — he’s shaking. And very, very tense.

Terra’s expression dips further into worry. “Something hurt?”

“Yes,” Ven hisses, digging his nails further into pressure-white palms. Terra is taken aback by how short he sounds. He’s never short-tempered, or angry with them. He’s always bubbly and lax, even when something goes wrong — and he’s almost glaring at him, through his forearms. His eyes are watery, and despite the glare, they don’t quite seem to focus.

Terra lowers his voice. “D’you have a migraine? I get those, sometimes. I can get you some medicine.”

Ven starts to shake his head, and then winces and brings his knees closer to his body. “‘S not… I don’t think so,” he rasps.

He doesn’t elaborate. Thinking in more than one sentence at a time, or more than one thought at a time, is fuzzy and wobbly and painful again, like how it was when he started training under Master Eraqus, but more frustrating. He can come across words fine. He can process what hurt feels like, and what it means. It’s just — nasty, and hot and tight and he doesn’t like it very much. Terra asks “Where does it hurt, then?” and Ventus has to keep from snapping at him for the stupid, inane, perfectly normal he’s concerned about you he wants to help question.

“Everywhere,” Ven says. Terra furrows his eyebrows, he needs to be more specific. Ven uncurls one hand from its fist and gestures vaguely at his chest. He means to say “here”, but it comes out as a whine.

“You wanna get the Master to look at it?”

“No.” Ven does snap, this time. Which is ridiculous, because yes he wants it to go away please fix it make it stop but just because that means more people in his room and the Master seeing him weak and useless seeing him like this and because Terra is asking and that’s— that’s too many thoughts again, that’s— The awkward conflict sends another wave of fuzzy-static-pain echoing like a gunshot from his heart, and he squeezes his eyes shut to ride it out.

Terra’s hand is smoothing his hair back from his forehead. He thinks. And then doesn’t think, because it really hurts, like someone is yanking half of his heart out, and it’s just scaring the rest of him into hurting too just to disperse the load. He thinks Terra says something like “I’m going to get help,” which, once it registers, sends a soft rush of relief through him. His breath still catches, but that’s good. That Terra doesn’t listen to him. Ventus pulls the blanket up over his head and waits.

//it turns out — he hears this through static and his heartbeat and three voices, not two — it’s just a kind of phantom pain. From whatever happened to him, like he had lost a limb or something. And it’ll go away, but it might come back. If he were more awake, he might be relieved at the fact that there’s nothing new wrong or that it’ll go away on its own, or maybe even angrier that it’ll come back and he didn’t do anything wrong to earn it. Maybe not. But at that moment, Ventus just wants Aqua to close the door. It’s barely open, but the hallway light is on. He just really wants her to close the door. ///

...

riku takes over some dreameater duties for sora's heartmates, too

Riku does not sleep easy, in the year that Sora is gone.

When he doesn’t, he stays up, tapping at a screen for hints hidden in his data (it’s a stretch, but he’s stretched thin). When he does, he searches for hints of him in the dream realms. There are many, many sleeping realms even outside the sleeping worlds, and he never has normal dreams anymore, anyways. So, it may be more accurate to say that Riku does not sleep, in the year Sora is gone.

He may not be the only one.

Ventus, Terra and Aqua come back from the Realm of Darkness every few weeks. Aqua was insistent they take breaks from it, and no one was going to argue her. When they do come back, sometimes they take time to catch up with the rest of the Realm of Light, and sometimes they take time to be together in the Land of Departure, on their own. They’ve invited Riku over more than once, and he’s grateful for it, because despite taking him away from the computer, it gives him a little room to breathe. He has his own guest room, and the kitchen, though more manual than Sora made the Tower’s, still has good morning food tailored to his favorites. Aqua’s been working on that.

(Sometimes he can sense their nightmares — just on the edges of his consciousness, while he wanders.)

Ven usually wakes up last, and skips into the kitchen to take whatever it’ll give him. This morning, and the last, and the one before that, to be honest, he wakes up late and stumbles into the kitchen rubbing at his eyes and yawning.

It’s worse this morning. Riku’s been slowly eating away at a bagel and a mug of coffee for the past hour, reading a book Aqua recommended to him about realms and reality. Ven is only given away down the stairs behind him because he squeaks when he yawns, the rest of him is silent as he pads into the kitchen and stands at the counter. The castle seems to take pity on him and rustles the basket of croissants for his attention, which he gives by taking one and stuffing it in his mouth and leaving it there.

“Didn’t sleep well..?” Riku asks.

Ven startles just a touch. “Hmph? Oh, not really.” He gives Riku a half-wince smile. “Couldn’t fall asleep at all! I’m okay though.”

/// u see like snippets of Roxy and Xion and they’re also tired :( but that’s later uhhhhh frnow…. “No,” Ven mutters, stopping and switching directions mid-step. He runs towards the houses — “No, no…” Runs his hand through his hair, switches directions, stops. Riku can feel his mounting distress. So, a dream where he’s lost, or maybe where he can’t find something important. Not a terrible nightmare, but a distressing one nonetheless — so why was it strong enough that Riku could feel it?

“Hey,” Riku tries. “Ventus.”

He doesn’t respond, stuttering to a halt and turning around again, letting out a shaky breath. “That’s not right,” he whispers.

It must be a larger nightmare. Or maybe since it’s leaving him idle, it’s at a lull in its dream, distracted somewhere…

Riku turns away to sniff out the source. Nightmares have a distinct, almost dark smell, but it’s never strong enough to be immediately obvious. He has to search, and to do that he has to follow the layered cobblestone paths Ven’s subconscious has littered all over the place like confetti. It’s not a maze, it’s just… a lot of pathways. Riku finds himself searching for a while before it reveals itself.

There it is. Under the bridge, a strange-looking Skelterwild is preening itself and pulling bits of the nightmare bubble it had crafted back and forth, like a toy. It’s a little… gooier than the nightmares tended to be with Sora, but it doesn’t look anything special.

Riku edges closer. It looks like it’s just the one, if he remembers anything about nightmare packs and how solitary the really big ones usually are. He can definitely take it.

It turns away, and Riku lunges.

For a big dinosaur spirit, it comes apart pretty easily — claws lodged between its armor plating wrench one of its legs free from its body, the resulting thrash nearly sending Riku into the underside of the bridge. It howls at him, a rattling garbage disposal sound more than anything, and Riku sneers right back. He dodges its jaws neatly, and rams his keyblade right into the thin part of its neck. The skelterwild makes one last screech loud enough that Riku hopes Ventus didn’t hear, and collapses into three separate pieces of dissolving nightmare.

Riku dismisses Braveheart and finds himself with a small smile playing across his face. He had missed this — doing his job, fulfilling some sort of innate purpose he wasn’t aware he was longing for. Sora has always just filled in pieces of him that he wasn’t aware were missing pieces until the puzzle got scattered. In losing Sora, his purpose had become the same way, scattered, in more ways than one, apparently. Riku’s smile falters a little. This puzzle piece wasn’t the right color, or even perfectly shaped, but… it fit well enough.

The skelterwild left a small assortment of pieces behind — most notably a few shuddering wild fantasies among the slowly-fading nightmare essence. Riku had decided a long while ago that he’d call it “essence”, because it’s not meat and it’s not melty corpse or spirit clouds or anything, it’s just the left behind base form of nightmares whatever shape they take and it also smells and tastes very very good and if he ever has to explain that whole dream eater phenomenon to anyone who isn’t either Bumpis the meow wow (constant thief of perfectly good food) or Sora himself, essence is the word he’s calculated to have the least amount of follow-up.

In any case he usually likes the bigger nightmares, they tend to leave more behind and have more of a form in the first place, like the fruit bits in a marmalade rather than just the jam runoff at the top. Riku runs his tongue along his fingernails, contemplating the value of taking those dream pieces, and paws through the remaining nightmare essence to swipe up a bit more of a reward. He’s not particularly hungry, and he’s maybe a little self conscious about eating someone else’s nightmares.

(He notices Ven’s nightmare tastes a little less sickly-sweet and a little more sharp, like if freezer burn was mildly pleasant. He would liken it to mint, if it had a physical flavor.)

Almost like a computer powering down, the odd building-stones that surround them start to grey in color — the nightmare is fading. If he’s right, they should just fade into something nicer like a day at the market, or a puppy convention, or another one of Sora’s dreams he had laughed and rolled his eyes at.

Or, y’know, they could suddenly start disappearing altogether and send things sailing into the void.

Iiiiincluding Ventus.

Riku, having very little time to think about this, scrambles out from under the bridge as it too falls apart at the seams (the wrong ones, not stone by stone, but scrap by scrap ripped off a magazine spread). He spreads his wings, hoping the transformation lasts a little longer, and zips past dissolving flowers and flyers and scoops up Ven in one swift movement.

Ven lets out a little squeak of horror at the sudden jolt to a stop and subsequent momentum upwards, and buries his head in his jacket. Riku keeps going up, because that’s the easiest way to move away from the collapsing nightmare, and eventually new ground will form below them.

Unless it doesn’t. Maybe he should interfere a little bit more, make sure the next dream is nice…

As suddenly and gently as the void disappears below him, a soft expanse of sand appears where it fades away, and Riku stops flying and lets himself drift slowly to the ground, familiar palm trees placing him exactly where he exists in memory. It looks like Ven’s been here too, sometime, seeing as the basic structure of the dream is his, Riku’s just the guiding force keeping the dock where it should be.

He didn’t come here on purpose, really, it’s just been on his mind. But it’s a safe place. And maybe kind of familiar enough to keep him sustained for the rest of the night.

Ven, for his part, falls out of Riku’s arms with a whoop!, right on top of what probably used to be a silly sand sculpture. He jumps off immediately, mortified, and then sullen when he apparently realizes what he did.

“Ugh,” Ven pouts, and kicks at the scattered lump of sand. “Now I have to build this thing all over again.”

“…A sandcastle?” Riku asks.

“No, if I’m gonna find experiment 626 again, I need a ship. I’m trying out different materials since my old one blew up.” He kneels, and starts scooping sand back into a neat pile.

Riku’s not a stranger to how dream logic works, though it’s not really that much easier to follow now than it was the first time Sora changed topics on a dime. “Good luck, then,” he says, and turns to leave. And then… turns back around, and after a moment of hesitation: “Can I help with anything?”

Ven leans back and flips his head up, thinking. He’s in a pair of shorts, now, though the rest of his outfit hasn’t caught up, and the contrast is funny-looking. “Ummm… could you see if there’s glue anywhere?”

“Glue… for sand?”

“Yeah! To make it stronger.”

“Alright.”

“Thanks, Riku!”

There’s not going to be glue anywhere else on the island, but that was a dismissal good enough for Riku to be sure Ven wasn’t still caught on the edges of a true nightmare. The dream is already kind of fuzzing and blurring into thought-shift cotton.

But just to be doubly sure. Riku pulls and twirls the dream between his fingers, weaving it just a little brighter, a little sweeter. He’s not sure exactly what he’s doing to the dream itself, but Ventus deserves something nice after visiting the realm of darkness for as long as he had. The memories it leaves are not usually kind.

Riku leaves once he hears a familiar peal of laughter come from behind him somewhere — and had he turned around, the sight of Ven in full-on vacation clothes and sunglasses holding a little blue alien thing right up to Terra’s face might have made him stay just for the atmosphere of it.

...

crash lands vanitas and ven on lilo and stitch GET STITCH PARALLELLED (this is just a silly script i was going to make into a comic but started to prose it)

Ventus and Vanitas are hurtling through gummispace at very high speeds, and what exactly got them into this situation is a blur of scuffling and curses and chasing each other down not to make a giant sword this time but not not make a giant sword if it means getting the stuff you took back, but that doesn’t particularly matter, because hurtling through gummispace at very high speeds tends to overrule everything else.

And as such, neither of them notice that they’re hurtling through gummispace at very high speeds towards a world they’re going to collide with if they don’t cut it out. Which they do not, obviously.

The first indication that something is wrong is the sudden introduction of gravity. See, the keyblade gliders can go very high, but it’s not like the pilot can just ignore gravity. You have to be very skilled in order to fly one without crashing.

No one is piloting.

/////////the glider screeches thru space with ven and vani practically wrestling over it it careens off course Poff! Through the clouds, and at this point ven realizes he’s going to Crash and kicks at vani to get back on top, but vani grabs vens feet sending the whole thing spinning head over tail until it makes a gloriously comedic CRASH right into a patch of palm trees on the beach we see vanitas eat sand as he lands in an awkward somersault on his face hb HGBPRHHWHTH. PHEH. PTH. eugh. vanitas looks around and sees… pretty much hawaii, but he doesn’t know that. A street by the beach, houses behind fences and plants and palm trees, sand and rocks, a couple people walking where they can’t really see them, a hen strutting by. he also sees ven laying down next to a pretty large rock in the sand with his helmet knocked off. seeing that that’s his priority right now, he puts his helmet on and strides over to him ventus? hey. ventus. (Kick. Kick. Kick kick kick kick kick SAND THROWN IN FACE.) ACK. hgwhrtynbghmmhhh. what. no, never mind. wake up. you crashed us on another world, idiot, I don’t sense anything. Get us out of here. mheadh hurts. goway (Exasperated) Just use cure. Esuna , whatever, eat a gummy bear. Fix it. (vanitas cannot do either of these things and do you think he carries potions bc I don’t) mm. … (ven is just grasping at the air repeatedly) what are you doing itwont … mmm. (Hisses) You can’t summon your keyblade?!! Then how are— i know. ijudgnmth…. …be less loud. vanitas, a little concerned that he’s broken and therefore he’s stuck in hawaii forever until someone comes to find him and probably kill him, starts poking around at ventus. But before he can find anything, a voice offscreen goes HEY hm HEY!!!! hm stitch launches himself at vanitas’ face. ACKHBPTJ he drags him off and stands there holding him by the scruff but meanwhile stitch realizes venven is here and sproings away off of vanitas face again venven!!!! ……..626? whatreeyou doing here? (garbled stitch noises) whoa … (garbled stitch noises) (incomprehensible slurred ventus speech) (vanitas is losing his marbles)

You didn’t answer my question. (vanitas startles and whips around and summons his keyblade. Lilo is standing there precociously.) Are you aliens? Are we… what?! You fell from the sky on a spaceship. Plus you look weird and alien-y. Where’s your face? (Offended) I do not— How are you talking? yanks off his helmet. Who are you? It’s alright. I know a lot of aliens. Are you bad guys???? On the run from the government????????? The What? you kind of look like weird tourists, actually Vanitas picks her up so she stops circling him and poking at him. That’s enough. Hey! HRRRRRRRH (stitch noise) vanitasknnock it off. ven turns over to see what’s going on but there’s Sun this way, so he groans and covers his eyes is he okay? He’s fine. We’re fine. Leave us alone, we’re not aliens. he doesn’t LOOK okay. You should come back to my house before the government finds you. The govermen aren’t looking for us . I’m gonna go get my sister. Guard him. HRRRRRH. ……?!!!

… vani: what Are you supposed to be name stitch. oh. Uh… I’m not telling you my name. Ven… friend? No. (Alien muttering) ……… ……(uncomfortable)...... …….(a scrapper pops up)

/////Who are you? I am the darkn- look, it doesn’t matter. When is he supposed to wake up?

...

an au where riku is a youtuber and also owns eight cats? i dunno what this one is theyre cats though

Hey! So um, my last video got super popular for no reason, but a lot of you guys were asking who the kitties were in the background. So. Let me introduce you all to my cats! I have eight cats. All of them are rescues. I didn’t mean to get eight cats, this just happened to me. This is Sora. He’s the first cat I found and the cat from the last video, and he’s the love of my life. He likes to sleep on top of my head. He’s the king of the house, not because he’s the oldest or anything but because when he wants to do something stupid he’ll get everyone else to do it with him. I found him as a little teeny baby behind my house. He walked into my house, I did not invite him, he decided he wanted to live here first. This is Kairi, she’s my second. I found her as a kitten under a boardwalk and she nearly took my finger off for touching her, but her secret is if you scratch right behind her ears she purrs like a motor. She’s a very quiet kitty, but she only likes crunchy kicky toys, so I can tell when she’s playing. She and Sora will play this game where they sing in the hallway and whoever is louder gets to start chasing the other one. This is Ven! He’s the oldest I think, but not by very much. He likes to investigate the camera whenever I film—(muffled sniffing) AHEM. I dunno if you saw but one of his eyes is clouded? He’s half blind, but he’s the one who jumps at me from the top of the cupboards, so it doesn’t seem to bother him. He’s very sweet, he is always grooming the other cats. I think he knows he’s the big brother. He also gets the zoomies every night at 11 pm so. This one is Vanitas. (MRAAAOW) He’s always tagging along with Ven, and (MRAH) he likes to yell at the camera whenever I film. He is the rowdiest and the worst (MAH) influence. He’s got a cute little nub tail, but he doesn’t like people touching it. I found both of these guys on the freeway at like 2 am, Ven had been… hit, we think, and Vanitas was really sick. He was doing okay enough to bite me though. We took them to the vet and everything and Ven was mostly ok, just super scared of me and really weak, but Van had to have his tail amputated and surgery for his intestines along with all the mange and he haaated me for nearly a month. I was scared I’d have to release him for being too feral. He’s super food motivated, though, so that made him warming up to me like this easier. Ow. Van This is Roxas! The one sleeping next to him is Xion. I actually fostered both of them before just flat out adopting them, they came out of a house fire, they had been living in the garage. You see here, Roxas has burns all on his paw pads… they’re healing pretty slowly. When he first came home he couldn’t walk on them, we had these cute little casts that he toddled around on. He’s a pretty small cat compared to some of the other male cats, but he’s got a very big attitude, if I’m doing something he doesn’t like, he will tell me. Very calm most of the time, though. If I open a tuna can his eyes go so big. Xion is even more mellow until you bring out the feather toys, which she loves playing with. She’s also really curious, so if I’m making myself a snack, she’s on the counter with Vanitas trying to see what my snack is all about. Sometimes I catch her trying to do the human things I do to get her own snack? It’s very cute. If you look — oops. Roxy didn’t like me doing that. But if you look at Xion’s fur she’s mostly black except a stripe down her tummy. She didn’t get quite so badly burned, but her fur was very singed for a while. This is Namine! She’s very pretty, and she has a very pretty voice, do you want to say something for the camera? mrrrh? yeeahh. Anyways, she was actually a show cat, or she was going to be. But her previous owner had some legal trouble and had to surrender her. She’s very shy,////////

...

sprawl thing

But first SECTOR SEVEN’S MOST WANTED

You shuffle through the photos in the box. There’s a good amount of them, not award-worthy, more like a beginners scrapbook. Some of these are a little thicker — they’re videos. You grab one at random and press play.

sora: Vanitas!! How does it feel being wanted for a million billion credits on the black market Well it’s nice to be wanted. Vanitaaaas :( Vanitaaaaaaaaa Sora get- SORA I am cutting FISH

Ven how does it feel being the only outside source on Unity in the whole universe probably! Kind of terrifying why You should be used to it. You’ve always been a hot commodity :] ….,(shoves camera)

(Roxas is in the aftermath of his own explosion accident) Roxas how does it feel being smarter than everyone in this room If I wasn’t here you’d all die We sure would

Xion (in tideweather;s hangar) how did it feel stealing this from the government Ballin’ You heard it here folks the law doesn’t apply to me if I have an eighteen foot flying tank!!!!!

Sora how does it feel being the only one able to make mom’s pancakes without burning them (those pancakes are of the DEVIL) Pretty gooooood. :]

That must be from later. In the story, at least. Vanitas looks… less murderous than you expected.

...

vanitas spooks even lol

There’s a knock on the door, but no person at it. Even squints, slowly putting down his paper file folders, and then leans forward a little off his desk to peer around the corner. He’s about to write it off when he glances to the right, and finds a dark shape a little too close for comfort.

He jumps backwards, startled, and squints harder. Vanitas just stands there looking unimpressed.

“Goodness!” Even barks. “A little warning would have been prudent.”

“I knocked.”

“You ding-dong ditched my laboratory,” Even grouses, ignoring the way Vanitas’ head cocks to the side. “Nevermind that. Did you need something?”

Vanitas kicks his heel against the ground. “Yeah, apparently you’re not supposed to grab hot pans without a mitten or something. It didn’t even hurt, but I guess it should have. Xion thinks it’s a replica thing and made me come.”

Were they cooking? Even’s first thought is wondering if they were cooking, and how much of the kitchen had burned down already. Though, his second is a mix of confusion and concern.

“Well, that can’t be it. I’ve input the same amount of nervous system data into each of the replicas, and they are perfectly tactile.”

“Nervous what? I don’t want that.”

“Nervous system. The process in your body that lets you feel when you touch physical objects. The — you should not be picking up hot pans without mitts,” Even sighs.

“Why?”

/////

....

i think thats it this post is too long already HFGEJHK

#sorry most of these ven has a Debatably Not Good time HGJFSYGGF im bullying him. and also giving him a kiss on the head #my writing #kh #kh ventus #AND OTHERS #kh vanitas #hes here often #wayfinders and riku show up #horrorwolves #sprawl au #theres uhhhhhh...... i dont think ill tag them they can hang out #i have One fic thats CLOSE to being done but isnt done about sora and ven going to rapunzel's wedding and i want to finish that

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fvckyouimaprophet · 4 years

Text

nobody loves me (like you do)

Summary: Everybody has a TiMER on their wrist which counts down to the moment they meet their soulmate. When Remus's goes black at 16, he knows it must mean his soulmate died.

Cue Sirius Black, entering his life like a whirlwind. It's just too bad that he has a TiMER.

Find it here on AO3.

Author’s Note: For @starstruck4moony, whose Wolfstar content keeps me going. ✌️

Remus is lying in the grass in the park, laughing with Lily about something their maths teacher said last week when his TiMER lets out a low, long beep. He blinks slowly and sits up, for a moment unsure that the noise is even coming from him.

“What is it?” Lily asks.

The second that Remus lifts his sleeve and stares at his wrist, everything changes. His chest tightens, and his fingers dig into the ground as he attempts to steady himself. The murmur of the parkgoers is replaced by a ringing in his ears, and it takes him a minute to catch his breath.

Lily’s hand on his shoulder startles him, and he jumps and looks at her with wide, panicked eyes. “Remus, you’re scaring me,” she says.

“My TiMER.” He shows her his wrist, and her face blanches with horror. “It’s gone blank.”

- - -

Graduating from secondary school and heading off to uni feels like a relief. Remus takes his TiMER off the summer before he leaves. He’s tired of the pitying looks from others. After all, if his TiMER has gone blank at sixteen, it’s almost guaranteed to mean that his soulmate has died.

He had been so close—two years away from meeting whoever it was. His and Lily’s TiMERs had been separated by mere days. They always joked that their friendship had been predetermined, and that was yet another sign of how similar they were.

He makes Lily promise not to tell anyone that his TiMER had gone blank. “I want a fresh start,” he says. “I’m going to tell them that I chose to take it off.” Remus can see Lily’s hesitation. She presses her lips tightly together, and her brow furrows, but she nods.

“If that’ll help,” she says.

“It will.” Remus smiles at her, and her face softens.

His flatmate, Peter, is studying Environmental Science and has a keen interest in entomology. “I promise not to get a pet tarantula,” Peter says. Despite the shyness to his tone, it’s clearly meant to be a joke, and Remus laughs. Peter’s face immediately brightens, and he grins back.

They talk about their experiences growing up as they unpack and the novelty of being away from home. They’ve nearly finished when Peter broaches the subject of the TiMER, lamenting that he has another sixteen years before he’s set to meet his soulmate. “What about you?”

Remus falters as his lamp slips a little in his hand. He quickly sets it down and keeps his back facing away from Peter as he answers, trying to compose himself.

“I got mine removed,” he says, and he hopes that Peter can’t hear the tightness in his voice. His heart pounds in his ears, and he takes a steadying breath before turning around.

“Why on earth would you do that?” Peter asks. He stops what he’s doing as he gapes at Remus.

As best as he can, he lifts his chin defiantly and does his best to look as if he’s uninterested in the topic. “I’m not into the idea of a predetermined fate. I mean, who’s to say we only have one soulmate? Why shouldn’t we get a choice in it.”

Peter’s eyes widen, and his jaw goes slack, and Remus is certain that despite the incredulous look on his face, there’s something bordering on admiration in his expression as well. “You really think that?” Peter asks, his voice a whisper.

“People fall in love all the time while they’re waiting for their soulmate. Maybe the only reason those relationships don’t stand a chance is because everybody just assumes they’re going to fail because the TiMER says so.” His voice sounds oddly assured, even to himself, and it’s enough to allow him to stand straighter. “I don’t want a piece of technology determining my whole life path. I want to be able to be with the person I want.”

For a moment, the words feel curiously liberating, but then Peter’s eyes get cloudy again—lost in thought—and he can feel it slipping away. “I wish I could be that brave,” Peter says. “But there’s something reassuring about knowing that there’s a relationship you can’t fuck up. Someone who’s sure to like you.”

It’s not quite that simple, and if he had a TiMER, Remus knows that he’d push back. After all, a soulmate isn’t a guarantee for life. It’s a promise that this person is as compatible with you as a person can be. There’s always room for human error.

He doesn’t have that guarantee anymore for compatibility, and the thought of relying on his own instincts terrifies him. Besides, he’s certain that no one with a TiMER would forsake the possibility of happiness in the name of free will—as vague as that is.

Remus shrugs and does his best to look bored by the topic, hoping that will nudge Peter to change topics. “I guess.”

Peter bites his lip and looks at what remains for them to unpack. “Want to grab a bite to eat before we finish up?”

Remus sighs, relieved. “Sounds great.”

- - -

Lily’s TiMER goes off two months after the start of the semester at a cafe. “My coffee went cold,” she says to Remus as they sit in the quad, their books for Topics in Medieval Latin Literature sprawled out in front of them, untouched. “I was staring at my wrist, watching the TiMER count down. He walked in, and they both started to go off. Honestly, he’s nothing like I imagined him.” She frowns slightly as she thinks back. “He seems a bit arrogant. But we’re going to talk more tonight. He had to run to class. It was awful timing, really.”

“Tell me more about him,” Remus says.

Lily glances around them before leaning in and asking in a hushed whisper, “Are you sure? It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“You met your soulmate today, Lily,” Remus rolls his eyes. “I’d be a prick not to want to hear about it.”

She narrows her eyes, but Remus meets her gaze openly. She lets out a small hum, satisfied that Remus isn’t lying for her benefit, and continues. “He told me his full name—James Potter. Let me see if I can find him.” It takes her less than three minutes on her phone before she lets out a triumphant ha.

The Facebook profile photo has two men in it. The one closer to the camera has short, messy black hair, glasses, and a red Liverpool jersey. He laughs, visibly drunk. The other looks purposefully disinterested, cigarette dangling from his lips as he throws up his middle finger at the person behind the camera. Despite the try-hard air that the other man exudes, Remus can’t help but stare.

He blinks, shaking himself out of it and hands the phone back to Lily. “Which one is he?”

“Oh, right. James is the one in the Liverpool jersey. The other one’s his flatmate, Sirius—I think. He was with James when I met him.” She taps on the photo and nods. “Yeah, he’s tagged in this. Sirius Black.”

Remus files that information for later and focuses back on James. “He’s cute.”

Lily looks back down at the phone. “He is, isn’t he?” When she sets down her phone, Remus can tell her mind is elsewhere, and he closes the textbook in front of him, certain that there is no chance of getting work done until Lily leaves. “I barely asked him anything about himself before he had to run off. He said that he hadn’t even realized that his TiMER was supposed to go off then, but I feel like he was just saying that because he didn’t want to seem too eager. Isn’t that odd? Why would he think that makes him look cool?”

Remus laughs. “Sounds like you’re going to have your hands full with this one.”

- - -

Remus counts down the days to when his TiMER is supposed to go off. He has the date memorized two years later, and the closer it gets, the heavier the feeling on his chest is. He’s thankful that it’s on a Saturday and is even more grateful when Peter announces that he’s going home for the weekend to visit his parents.

He skips class on Thursday and Friday, and if Peter notices, he doesn’t ask. Instead, he opts to stay in their dorm. He can hardly bear the thought of interacting with other people and ignores Lily’s calls and texts until Friday night.

Lily (19:06) If you don’t text me back, I’m finding a way to break in.

Remus (19:08) I’m fine. I’ve just been sick. Flu or something.

It’s a bad lie, and he knows it, but Lily doesn’t call him on his bluff.

Lily (19:11) Fuck soulmates anyway. James keeps trying to woo me in weird ways. He’s half a step away from showing up on the quad with his guitar and play Wonderwall.

The text makes Remus laugh, and he pulls himself up off of the couch in their room and looks at himself in the mirror. The bags under his eyes look like bruises, and his hair is tangled nest on top of his head from not showering. He runs his fingers through it, wincing when they catch.

Lily (19:14) Maybe your soulmate also removed their TiMER.

It’s a possibility they’ve discussed before, but it seems unlikely. Besides, without a TiMER to guide him, any person he passes tomorrow could potentially be it. He could pass them by without realizing, neither the wiser. The thought makes him shrink into himself.

Remus (19:16) I think I’m going to stay inside tomorrow. If you’re right, it won’t matter. I’ll meet them one way or another.

Lily (19:20) Can I hang out with you? I have a date with James in the evening, but I just hate the thought of you moping around. We can watch Golden Girls, and I’ll bring the 🌿.

Remus (19:24) Well, that’s practically cheating, but fine. You win.

With Lily there, the day would go by faster. Besides, he’s been meaning to hear about how Lily’s date with James went on Wednesday. Remus smiles tiredly and looks around the room. If nothing else, Remus tells himself that this will be a good excuse to force himself to clean up and shower.

- - -

Lily sighs before reaching over to the bowl of popcorn and tossing a few kernels into her mouth. “I feel like I definitely have to go support him at his races. I still can’t believe he rows.” As much as she’s acting like it’s a chore, Remus is certain that when the times comes, she’ll get wrapped up into the race. He’s seen it before during football matches that come on when they’re at the pub.

“You already seem a little softer on him than you did earlier this week,” Remus comments, and Lily’s cheeks turn slightly pink, and she tucks her hair behind her ear as she purses her lips and thinks.

“There are moments when he stops making an endless stream of jokes and just slows down, and it feels like we’re getting somewhere,” she says. “He told me more about his family. He’s really close with them. We stayed up until three the other day just talking.” A small smile tugs up on Lily’s lips, but before she can say more, she waves her hand dismissively. “Anyway, do you want to roll up and get back to the episode?”

Remus knows that she’s holding back for his sake, but the stubborn look behind her eyes lets him know that he’s not going to get much more out of her today. Before he can respond, however, her phone vibrates.

Her brow furrows, and she chews on her lower lip. “Everything okay?” Remus asks.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” She sets it down and looks at Remus. “James wants to stop by and meet you before our date. I was just going to tell him that it’s a bad time and some other day, so you don’t have—”

“No, I’d like that,” Remus says, surprising even himself.

“Are you sure?”

“You’re giving me crumbs here. Honestly, I can’t believe I haven’t met the guy yet.”

“He won’t be here for another hour or so. You don’t have to say yes.” Her eyes search Remus’s face, trying to find some sort of confirmation that this won’t send him spiraling again, and he reaches out and places a hand on her forearm and squeezes.

“Lils, yesterday, I couldn’t imagine getting through the day. I have been dreading this day for two fucking years. But it’s here, and the world didn’t end.” His eyes burn, and he pauses to take a steadying breath. Lily squeezes his forearm back and offers a reassuring smile. “I still feel like shit, but if you’ve met the guy you’re probably going to spend the rest of your life with, I want to know him.”

Lily tosses her arms around Remus, and Remus feels his resolve crumble. He buries his head in the crook of her neck, and when he starts to shake, her hands tighten around him until he can barely breathe. They sit there like that for minutes, saying nothing. Remus cries until he feels depleted. “It’s not fucking fair,” he chokes out and hangs limply against her as she rocks him.

“I know.”

When they pull apart, he excuses himself and steps over to the sink. He splashes the water on his face and stares at himself at the mirror above the sink—eyes puffy and red and splotchy cheeks. For a moment, he doesn’t feel present in his own body. He stares, oddly disconnected from the person that stares back.

“You okay?” Lily’s voice jars him, and he blinks several times as he settles back into himself.

“Fine,” he says. He wipes his face with a towel and moves back over to sit next to Lily. “Need help rolling up?”

“Between the two of us, you know I’m better at it, right?” She grins and nudges his shoulder, and Remus goes with it.

Forty minutes later, they’re floating when there’s a knock on the door. They startle, and Lily checks her phone. “It’s James. He called me ten minutes ago.” The look at each other and burst out laughing.

Remus stands up and smooths down his shirt before opening the door to his dorm room. Next to James is the boy from the profile photo—Sirius. Remus swallows, suddenly aware of how dry his mouth is—from the weed, no doubt—and steps to the side. Over his shoulder, Lily spots Sirius as well and groans.

“Don’t worry,” Sirius says, though his eyes don’t leave Remus’s face. “I’m not crashing your date, Evans. I just came here to meet your famous hermit friend, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“I’m not a hermit,” Remus says and flushes.

“We’ll see about that.” He winks as he brushes past James and steps into the apartment.

Only then does it hit Remus that he’s yet to introduce himself to James. He sticks his hand out, and James laughs. “Sorry, I probably should invite you in or something,” he says, aware of the bemused look on James’s face.

James shakes his hand and steps in as well. “You can smell what you two are up to down the hall. No need to apologize.” He turns to look at Lily. “Didn’t know you were such a rulebreaker.” There’s a thrilled edge to his voice, and Remus glances away from them to give them privacy.

He settles on Sirius, who seems to be too busy looking around the dorm room to notice. He’s wearing all-black—a tight black shirt that hugs his shoulders. Any self-restraint he might have otherwise had has disappeared in the fog from the weed, and Lily’s text from yesterday flashes in his head.

Maybe your soulmate also removed their TiMER.

His eyes drop down to Sirius’s wrist, and his chest tightens. The TiMER is clearly visible on his right wrist. He does his best to ignore the growing ball of disappointment in his stomach and turns his attention back to James and Lily.

Despite her put-on attempts to look blasé, Lily leans forward, eyes fixed on James. Remus knows her well enough to know when she’s biting back a smile. She remains oblivious to the fact that they’re being watched—enthralled in her conversation with James—until Sirius speaks.

“Why do you have this?”

They all turn to look. He’s holding a glass globe with a large, metallic beetle suspended in the middle. His fingers tighten around the glass, and when his hand flexes, Remus feels his heart speed up.

“My flatmate is interested in insects,” Remus says and rubs the back of his neck. “He told me the name, but I don’t really remember.”

“I guess it’s better than an ant farm,” James says. “Those things creep me out. I mean, what if the glass shatters? Then you just have hundreds of ants everywhere.” He automatically scratches his arm.

“It’s kind of cool,” Sirius says. He looks at it for another moment before setting it down carefully back on its stand. “So, he’s the bug guy. What are you interested in?”

“Nothing too interesting.”

Lily scoffs from the couch. “You don’t need to pretend to be modest, Remus.” When Remus says nothing, she continues. “Remus is getting a joint honours degree in Astrophysics and Classics."

“Wow, Lily told me you were smart, but she didn’t tell me you were a fucking genius.” James lets out a low whistle.

Remus laughs and feels heat crawl up from his neck to his cheeks. “It’s not nearly as interesting as it sounds.”

“Why both of those?” Sirius asks from behind him.

“I think it’s interesting to see how other civilizations saw and responded to the world around them—how they tried to make sense of it. I’m especially interested in mythologies and how they create meaning in the unknowable. Sometimes it feels like we’re doing that with the universe too.” He wonders whether the answer is too much and chuckles awkwardly. “Or maybe that all sounds really pretentious.”

James shakes his head. “Hey, if you got it all figured out, more power to you.”

“Plus, I think it was a little predestined when your parents called you Remus,” Sirius adds.

Remus glances at Sirius over his shoulder, but Sirius is already looking elsewhere around the room, flipping through Peter’s DVD collection. “What about you?” he asks James.

“If we’re talking about uni, then Psychology, but I also row.”

Remus bites back a smirk when Lily’s eyes meet his. “Lily’s mentioned you’re on the team.”

James visibly puffs up and grins at Lily. “Did she?”

“Something like that,” Lily says. “You have mentioned it once or twice.”

“Just wait until you go punting with him,” Sirius says. “He’ll find a way to make it competitive. He always does.”

James scowls. “Well, on that note, we’re going to head off.” He turns and looks at Lily. “If you’re ready?”

She stands up and grabs her backpack. “I think I’m good to go.” It takes her a minute to make sure that she’s not leaving anything behind, and then she steps over Remus and pulls him into a tight hug. “You gonna be okay?” she asks, voice low so that only Remus can here.

Remus nods against her before whispering back, “Thank you.” She squeezes tighter before dropping her arms and giving him one last reassuring look. The knowledge that he will alone again hits him, and Remus swallows thickly and hopes his face doesn’t betray the growing gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“It was great to meet you,” James says as he steps forward. He throws open both arms for a hug. “Is that okay? I feel like we’re going to be good friends.” The way he says it, so matter-of-fact, makes Remus believe him, and he steps forward into the hug.

“It was great to meet you too,” he says.

James grins and looks over at Sirius. “You headed back, mate?”

Sirius glances over at Remus for a moment. “Mind if I stay a little longer? You can feel free to say no and kick me out if I’m overstepping,” he says.

Remus shakes his head as a feeling of relief washes over him. His thoughts haven’t been kind to him lately, and he’ll take the excuse to delay sitting alone with them again. “Not at all.”

“Well, you two enjoy,” James says, and with one final wave from Lily, they leave, door shutting behind them.

“Not that I mind, but why?” Remus asks. “You look like someone who has places to be on a Saturday night.” With that, he navigates himself back over to the couch and sits down.

Sirius laughs, loud and unrestrained. “Well, I’m more of a social smoker,” he says, pulling out a Ziploc bag from his back pocket. “And I saw you were watching Golden Girls, and if you add some butter chicken in there, it doesn’t sound like a half-bad way to spend a Saturday night.” He pauses, and his eyes narrow slightly as he considers his next words. After a few seconds, he adds, “Plus, not to be presumptuous, but you look like you could use a friend right now.”

It’s unnervingly perceptive considering that Sirius has spent the last fifteen minutes flipping through objects around the room. Before he can respond, however, Sirius sits down next to him and pulls out his phone.

“There’s a great Indian place around here that delivers. My treat if you roll up.” He tosses Remus the bag without looking up, and Remus smiles. By the time he has a workable joint, Sirius has ordered them food and has scrolled through the list of episodes to find one he likes.

“So, what are you studying?” Remus asks as he hands it Sirius along with a lighter.

“Literature, with a focus on creative writing.”

“Any particular time period?” he asks, but he shakes his head when Sirius opens his mouth. “Wait, I bet I can guess what kind of literature you’re interested in.”

Sirius raises an eyebrow. “You haven’t even known me for an hour, and you think you have me pinned down? Tell me, what do you think I’m into?”

“Gothic literature. Maybe Oscar Wilde too.”

The silence tells him that he’s guessed right. For the first time, Remus senses a crack in the unmoved, pristine image Sirius has put together. Nonetheless, Sirius manages to compose himself and straightens his back, though his cheeks remain flushed. “I’m keeping my eye on you, Lupin.”

“Picture of Dorian Gray?” Remus asks, and Sirius’s scowl deepens. “Oh, I’m too good.”

“It’s a great book!”

“Oh, I agree. One of my favorites too.” At that, Sirius’s face brightens, and he tilts his head as he takes in Remus. Remus waits for the comment, but it never comes. Instead, Sirius hits play on the episode and moves, almost imperceptibly, closer to Remus as he lights up the joint.

- - -

It’s pouring rain when it hits midnight. James lets out a loud whoop and pulls Lily into a hug, spinning her around in a circle. Remus clinks his bottle with Peter and Sirius’s, and they down their drinks.

“Happy New Year,” Peter says as he holds a hand above his head, as if to block out the rain. He frowns and squares his shoulders.

“You want to go back in?” Remus asks, and Peter, after looking around guiltily, nods.

“We’re going to head back in and dry off,” Remus says to James and Lily. Lily pushes against James’s chest and pulls back from kissing him to give Remus a sheepish grin.

“Happy Near Year, Remus,” she says, and Remus steps forward to give her a hug, ignoring the huff he earns from James.

“Mind if I join you?” Sirius asks.

“Not at all,” Remus says. He hugs James as well, as does Sirius, and they make their way off towards campus.

“It’s cold,” Peter says after a moment. Remus meets Sirius’s eyes and bites back a laugh. He’s not wrong. Remus can hardly feel his toes, and his coat will take days to dry. But he can’t find it in himself to care.

“If you complain now you’re going to bring yourself bad luck for the whole year,” Sirius says, and Peter scowls.

“Next year, I hope we watch the countdown on the telly.”

“Aren’t you a bundle of fun?” Remus wraps an arm around Peter as the walk. “We’re almost there anyway.”

Soon enough, they make it back. The campus is mostly empty and eerily quiet, and they manage to make it upstairs without running into anyone. They stumble into their room, and Remus lets out a satisfied groan as soon as he walks into their room and is hit in the face with a wave of heat. Before Remus has had a chance to hang up his coat and place his shoes in a corner, Peter disappears to change.

“So, do we think James and Lily are going to turn to giant ice sculptures glued at the face?” Sirius asks.

Remus laughs as he grabs two sets of clothes. “Here.” He hands Sirius a set, and Sirius gives him a warm smile. “The joggers might be a little long, but they should work.”

“Thanks.” Without missing a beat, Sirius turns and pulls his shirt off. From this angle, Remus can only see the profile of his face, hair stuck to it. He does his best not to stare, but his eyes drift lower to his shoulders and his back, watching the way they move as Sirius grabs the dry shirt and starts to put it on.

“I’m going to go take a quick shower if that’s okay,” Remus says, pulling his eyes away before Sirius starts to change his pants.

“Take your time,” Sirius calls back to him.

Remus stands under the water until he can feel himself thaw out but makes quick work cleaning himself and washing his hair. Every time he closes his eyes, he can picture Sirius standing drenched in his room, and he swallows thickly, trying to ignore the feeling in the pit of his stomach.

By the time he makes it back—no more than fifteen minutes later—Sirius presses his finger to his lips and points over at Peter, fast asleep on his bed. He grabs them each a hoodie and a beer from the minifridge, and they move to the hallway.

They walk over to the stairs and sit down. They sit, bodies half-turned and legs pressed up against each other in the narrow space, yet Remus feels oddly comfortable despite it. Sirius uses his lighter to open both bottles and leans back. “So, dare I ask—any resolutions this year?”

Remus laughs. “Fuck, I hadn’t even considered.” He shakes his head. “Get back to me in a few days.”

“That’s not how resolutions work,” Sirius says and takes a swig from his beer.

“I didn’t know you were the expert.” Remus wraps both hands around the bottle and leans his head back. “What about you?”

“Finish writing a book I’ve been working on,” Sirius says immediately. “I’ve been working on it for years. I always mean to, but you know how those things are.” He shrugs. “Maybe reconnect with my brother, but that’s another conversation. Other than that, have more fun. Sleep less. Drink more.” It’s a clear deflection away from earnestness, but Remus grants it to him.

“I’m sure you’ll finish it,” is all he says.

Silence falls between them for a minute, and Sirius clears his throat. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“What’s the deal with your TiMER? I asked Lily once, and she said it was none of my fucking business, and then when I asked Peter, he said you were making some sort of statement.” Remus startles, surprised that it’s never come up with Sirius before. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Sirius says.

“No, that’s not it. I guess I just assumed we talked about it at some point.” He takes a long drink from his beer and considers telling Sirius the truth.

“Peter said it was something about free choice.

Or not. Remus hopes his smile doesn’t look as strained as it feels. “Something like that,” he says and takes another sip to stall, ignoring the dip in his stomach. The last thing he wants is for Sirius to look at him differently.

“You’re really going for an air of mystery, aren’t you?”

Remus chuckles. The story comes to him naturally now. He’s perfected the art of telling it—not too impassioned or detailed but not too detached either. “I took it off when I turned eighteen. I decided I didn’t want someone else to tell me how I should live my life. So many people’s lives don’t begin until their TiMER beeps. I don’t want that.”

“Tell me more.”

“It’s just—why should the cosmic powers that be get to decide who you end up with? How is that fair? Maybe you can have a shot at really loving someone else, and maybe it’ll be imperfect, but you chose it, and isn’t that better?” The breath knocks out of him, and he feels his eyes water. It hasn’t felt fair for two years now, he wants to tell Sirius.

No one wants to give up on their soulmate. In the end, after all the short-term relationships are over, all it leaves him with are the other people who have also had their destiny taken from them. That’s doesn’t feel like a choice. It feels like surviving.

Sirius tilts his head and stares at Remus, his expression inscrutable. “Huh.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Remus squeezes one hand into a fist in his lap, and a wave of anger hits him. “Huh.” He repeats Sirius, his tone sharp and hard.

Sirius’s expression doesn’t change. “It just doesn’t seem like you.”

“What does that mean?”

“I think you believe everything you’re saying. Hell, I do too. You just don’t seem like you’d be the type of person who’d take off your TiMER as a matter of principle.”

Remus is about to confess when they hear voices near the bottom of the staircase. They both scramble to get up and step out of the way as two other men walk past them. “Happy New Year,” one of them says.

“Happy New Year,” Sirius says and waves. As soon as they pass, he turns to face Remus again. “That was rude. I don’t know why I’m questioning you. I believe that you removed it out of choice. I guess I just—” He shakes his head. “Sorry.”

When he nudges Remus’s arm with his shoulder, Remus sucks in a sharp breath and tries to discern whether the feeling in the pit of his stomach is relief or disappointment.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, and they settle back down and continue to drink.

- - -

They decide to celebrate their move off-campus their second year with a marathon of Lord of the Rings. They don’t get started until late in the afternoon, and by one in the morning, they are nearly halfway through The Return of the King.

“I’m pausing this so I can grab some snacks,” Sirius says and picks up the remote.

“You’re disrespecting the scene!” Peter says and leans back in his spot on the couch. “C’mon.”

“Anybody need anything?” Sirius glances around the room, purposefully skipping Peter.

“I’ll take some more Jaffa Cakes if you have them,” James says.

“Have any more Jammie Dodgers?” Lily asks.

Remus stands up automatically. “Let me help you.” They walk quietly to the kitchen, and Remus leans against the doorframe as his eyes drift shut. “I’m so tired from unpacking. All I want to do is sleep. If I didn’t think Peter would kill us, I’d see if we could finish the movie tomorrow.”

“You want tea?”

Although it sounds appealing, Remus knows it’s too late for a coffee. With a sigh, he concedes. “Tea sounds great.”

“Let me see if anybody else wants any.”

Remus closes his eyes. Sirius’s footsteps pass right by him, followed by the muffled, distant sounds of conversation. He’s started to drift when Sirius sets a hand on his shoulder. “M’ awake,” Remus says, though he doesn’t open his eyes.

“No cream one sugar?” Sirius asks, and Remus nods.

“How’s Benjy?”

“I have no clue. We broke up yesterday.”

It’s enough to jar Remus to open his eyes. He straightens his back and clears his throat before asking anything. “What happened?”

“I mean, obviously we’re not soulmates,” Sirius says, waving the active TiMER on his wrist. “But also, it just felt like more of a summer thing.” He shrugs. “He didn’t seem particularly devastated either."

“So, he was a little devastated?”

Sirius grins. “He also seemed to be bored with it. Is that better, you pedant?”

“Much, thanks,” Remus teases back.

“Well, you certainly seem less likely to pass out now than you did three minutes ago.” Remus winces, but Sirius laughs before he can apologize. “It’s not a knock.”

There’s a glint in Sirius’s eye, and it’s enough to pull him out of any remaining drowsiness. His breath quickens, and he peels himself off of the doorframe and takes a step towards Sirius. Sirius does nothing to stop him, and it’s all the encouragement Remus needs. He closes the gap with one more step and cups Sirius’s cheek in his hands.

Sirius’s fingers close around his shirt in a tight fist, and Remus sighs against Sirius’s mouth, his lips falling open. It’s the only invitation that Sirius needs to deepen the kiss, and he worries Remus’s lower lip between his teeth and pulls Remus close until they’re flush against each other. His heart beats in his throat, so hard that Remus is certain that Sirius must feel it in their kiss. Although his hands are shaking, he drops one to the back of Sirius’s neck, and his thumb runs up along his hairline. When Sirius shivers, Remus feels dizzy.

“Hey guys,” James calls out, his voice alarmingly close. They pull apart just as James rounds the corner. “I changed my mind. I want tea too.” If James notices anything, he hides it remarkably well. He moves past them and grabs the Jaffa Cakes and Jammie Dodgers off of the counter. “Getting peckish,” he says as an explanation and disappears again.

Remus finally takes the deep, shaky breath he’s been holding been, and he grip the counter behind him until he’s sure his knuckles turn white. When Sirius doesn’t meet his eyes, Remus’s stomach drops. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have,” he says, and Sirius’s head snaps up.

“Are you kidding? You didn’t do anything.” Despite himself, Remus’s gaze moves up when Sirius runs a hand through his hair. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

If neither wants to apologize, Remus wants to ask what’s wrong about it. But the tea kettle clicks as the water finishes boiling, and the wave of exhaustion that hits him again reminds him that perhaps his judgment isn’t as sound as it should be for something he can’t take back. After a moment, Sirius nods, and Remus wonders whether the disappointed look he sees in Sirius eyes is just wishful thinking.

- - -

Remus stumbles his way into dating Edgar Bones in his third year. Although he’s also completing a Classics degree, they haven’t had a class together since their first year. After a month of striking up a conversation before the start of each Travelers to Byzantium class, Remus asks him out.

He’s not the first person that Remus has hooked up with. That title goes to Mary Macdonald when he was seventeen. But Edgar is the first person he dates.

Edgar doesn’t have a TiMER on his wrist. His family doesn’t believe in forcing it upon them—believes it should be a choice. Everyone in his family is given the option to implant one once they turn eighteen. “I didn’t see the need to get one by then,” he explains with a small shrug. “So much of the soulmate thing feels like a frame of mind. My parents didn’t have them, and they’re happier than some couples who found each other with their TiMERS.”

Dating Edgar feels familiar right away. They get caught up in long conversations about why Anne Carson’s If Not, Winter is the best translation of Sappho at one in the morning. And when Edgar shows him his prized possession—both volumes of The Atlas of Ancient Rome—they spend the next four hours leafing through maps and relating it to things they’ve discussed in other classes.

“Hello, earth to Remus?” Sirius asks. “Did you hear anything I’ve said for the last two minutes?”

Remus blinks slowly and does his best to put together the bits and pieces he picked up on. “You’re worried that Caradoc is going to ask you to meet his parents,” he says, although it comes out as more of a question.

Sirius sighs. “He already asked me. I’m just worried he’s up here, and I’m down there.” Sirius one hand above his head and the other on the table as he speaks. “You really weren’t paying attention, were you?”

“Edgar and I going on a double date with Frank and Alice tomorrow, and I realized that I hadn’t made the reservation yet.” The frustration is obvious on Sirius’s face, and he folds in slightly, feeling guilty. “Sorry I’ve been so spacey.”

Sirius’s face softens a little, and he reaches out and squeezes Remus’s hand. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Want to get the reservation out of the way?” Remus nods and pulls out his phone. “So, you’re kinda on the opposite page with Edgar then?”

Remus laughs. “I guess. I met his parents on Boxing Day.” For the first time, it strikes Remus that the relationship has progressed past anything casual. “How seriously do you think he’s taking this?”

Sirius’s pulls the hair tie out of his hair before pulling it back up in a tighter bun. When he’s done, his hand drops to the table, and he fiddles with the edge of his book. “Do you see it as serious?” Sirius won’t quite meet his gaze, and Remus frowns, unsure where the sudden timidity is coming from.

He considers for a moment before responding. “I suppose somewhere in between. I really like him, but—” Remus cuts off, uncertain what he trying to say. “There’s nothing specific. He does make me happy.” He bites his tongue before another “but” comes out. It’s not that he even knows what comes after it. On paper, Edgar is everything he wants. He makes him laugh, he’s earnest, and he approaches things wholeheartedly and without restraint.

“It’s okay if you don’t really have an answer,” Sirius says, and Remus can’t help but wonder if that’s an answer in itself. The question hardly has time to linger before Sirius straightens himself in his chair and continues, “Frank and Alice, though. What do you think about that?”

“Sirius, it’s not nice to talk about it behind their backs.”

“Remus,” Sirius repeats, in the same scolding tone, “They openly talk about it. You’re the one acting like it’s bad.”

“I don’t think it’s bad!” It comes out louder than he intends it to, and people at the nearby tables stare at them. The librarian looks over as well, and Remus shrinks in his chair and tries to look studious until he sees her look away from the corner of his eyes. “Their TiMERs matched when they were nine. I didn’t have a concept of ‘the rest of my life’ meant at nine. I don’t think I do now,” he whispers.

“I asked them once what it was like meeting their soulmate that young,” Sirius says, and Remus gapes.

“You just asked them?” When Sirius says nothing, Remus bites the inside of his cheek, curiosity getting the better of him. “Oh, alright, what did they say?”

“You know you’re just as much of a gossip as I am,” Sirius says, nudging Remus under the table with his foot. A small thrill goes through him, and he scoots to the edge of his chair and leans his lower calf against Sirius’s.

“Maybe.” Half a minute passes, and Sirius says nothing. “And?”

“And what?” The second the question passes his lips, he realizes, and he pulls back his leg and shakes his head. “Oh, right. Well, first Alice said that everybody thinks it, and even though it was rude, she appreciated my bluntness.” He grins, amused by his own actions. “And then they said they didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know?”

“Well, they said they were so young when it happened that it was always kind of the normal. Same way we can’t imagine them, they can’t imagine us.” He shrugs. “Made sense to me. They also said they couldn’t imagine trusting anyone more than they trust each other.”

“Wonder what that’s like,” Remus says, dropping his attention to his sweater and fixing the sleeve.

“I don’t. I have you.”

“What about James?”

“I love him to death, and he’s loyal to a fault, but his pranks sometimes get the better of him.”

“You’re involved with most of them!” Remus hisses, and Sirius smirks in response. “Besides, I trust you too, but that’s different.”

“And how so?” Sirius crosses his arms over his chest, and a small crease appears between his eyes.

“You’re my best friend. They’re soulmates.”

Sirius’s eyes harden, and for a moment, he’s sure he’s said the wrong thing, though he’s not sure how. His stomach drops out from underneath him, and he worries his lower lip between his teeth.

But the moment passes. Although he remains slightly stiff, Sirius rolls his eyes, and he nudges Remus’s foot with his again. “So, if I tell you about Caradoc, do you think you can actually listen this time?” he asks.

“I’ll try my best.

- - -

When he graduates, Remus moves to London to get his doctorate in Astrophysics at University College London. “Mind if I join?” Sirius asks, and Remus feels a wave of relief.

Sirius gets a job at a nearby coffeeshop and another working as a part-time editor at a small publishing company, and Remus dives into classes. Even though they live together, the year of classes leaves him exhausted and busy.

Sirius (17:23) I miss you. 😭 You, me, and E tonight?

Remus laughs as he walks toward the Euston Square tube station and texts Sirius back.

Remus (17:26) Sounds perfect.

The pizza he orders arrives before he does, and when he gets home, Sirius greets him holding a half-eaten slice in one hand. “You should surprise order pizza more often,” Sirius says. “I was just thinking about how hungry I was when the buzzer went off. Truly serendipitous.” He grins, wide and dog-like, and Remus laughs.

“I’m glad it hit the spot.” The moment he’s rid himself of his bag and washed his hands, Remus dives in as well. It doesn’t take them long to eat, but by the time they’ve finished, Remus has gotten so caught up in the conversation that it startles him when Sirius pulls out a small bag with two pills.

“Teddy bears. Aren’t they cute?” Sirius asks as he dangles it in front of Remus. When Sirius pulls them out of the bag and hands him one, Remus can see the pill more clearly—purple and slightly misshapen. He twirls it in between his index finger and thumb and rolls his eyes fondly.

“Something like that.”

Twenty minutes later, it hits. Sirius insists on playing Portishead’s Dummy, and they’re halfway into “Sour Times” when Remus sits on the floor, leaning back on the edge of the couch and staring up at Sirius’s face from underneath. The chorus hits, and his chest wells as he watches Sirius’s mouth move as he speaks.

Sirius looks different from this angle—upside-down. It’s like staring at a reflection in a mirrored screen and seeing your movements in reverse, Remus decides. He blinks slowly and rights himself, disoriented by the change in perspective and suddenly dizzy. “Come down here,” he says, and Sirius titters as he slides down inch by inch until he’s on the floor as well.

A sudden squeeze alerts him that Sirius’s hand has fallen to his arm, and he feels the sensation seep slowly up his arm and into his chest. Without asking, he reaches out. His hand stops centimeters away from Sirius’s face, and the air in the room vanishes. Tentatively, Sirius stretches and arm and runs his fingers through Remus’s hair, nails scraping against his scalp.

A small gasp escapes Remus’s lips as his eyes flutter shut. A thrill runs down his back, and he instinctively moves closer. His hand drops to Sirius’s shirt—an open flannel—and he tugs at one end to pull him closer. Remus giggles as he runs his hand, fingers splayed, up Remus’s shirt. The sensation overwhelms him, and when his fingers first brush against Sirius’s collar and neck, he jolts and pulls his hand back.

“Fuck it’s been a while since I’ve rolled like this,” Remus says, and he twirls a strand of Sirius’s hair around his finger.

“In a good way, I hope,” Sirius says, and his voices jars Remus to look up. He feels like he’s never noticed how long Sirius’s eyelashes are, although he’s sure he must have at some point. After a moment, his eyes flicker down to Sirius’s lips, slightly red and puffy, and he whimpers. His thumb runs up along Sirius’s jaw, and over, until—carefully, with the pad of his thumb—he grazes Sirius’s lower lip.

Sirius’s lips part, and the tip of Remus’s thumb lip slips in. The beat drops in "It Could Be Sweet", and Remus feels it vibrate through the floor into him.

“In a good way,” he breathes, and Sirius whines.

“Remus…” His voice trembles, and although he doesn’t stop Remus, it’s enough to give Remus pause. The touch of Sirius’s skin against his makes his skin buzz, and he chews the inside of his cheek and drops his hand.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

And then Sirius is leaning in. He kisses him, hard and needy, and Remus melts against him. When Sirius tilts his head and cups his cheek, it sparks through him. His fingers tighten against Sirius’s shirt as he deepens the kiss. He holds on tightly, knuckles white, terrified to let go, and Sirius must sense his desperation. Their eyes meet, and any doubt slips away with the room until all he can feel is Sirius here against him—his.

Sirius’s hand slips under his shirt, palm flat on Remus’s stomach. When Sirius slides his hand further up, Remus jerks, overwhelmed by the sensation of Sirius’s skin against his and the roughness of the pads of his fingers. The music pounds through him, and he tugs Sirius with all the strength they can muster until Sirius is on top of him.

Remus’s rolls his hips forward, and he can’t help but smirk when he’s met with a moan against his lips. But Sirius pulls back, and though he makes no move to stand up, a glimmer of something Remus can’t quite place flashes in his eyes.

“I want to,” Sirius says, “but I’m not going to wake up tomorrow to learn you think this was a high mistake.”

“It’s not,” Remus says, and his lips jut out slightly as he tries to concentrate on looking as straight-faced as possible.

“I don’t think it is either, but I am somewhere in the stars right now, and I think you are too.” With that, Sirius pulls himself off and moves himself back on the couch. The sudden lack of weight against him hits him hard, and Remus reels. It takes him a moment to collect himself, and when he stands up, he moves towards the kitchen to grab a glass of water for each of them.

“Okay.” He doesn’t know what else to say. “Did you not want to?” he asks when he hands Sirius his glass. Only when the water hits his lips does Remus realize how dry his mouth is. His head spins, and he sits down next to Sirius on the couch and folds his legs under him, though his knee bumps against Sirius’s.

Sirius’s eyes drop down to that, and he gently settles his hand on Remus’s knee. “I cannot tell you how much I want to.” His fingers tighten around Remus’s knee before he jerks his hand away and takes a shaky breath. “I need to be able to trust that we’re both clear-headed before we do something we can’t take back.”

Any protests die on his lips, and he nods and deflates. “Can we still kiss?” he asks.

Sirius considers for a few seconds, but the hand on Remus’s waist, pulling him forward gives him all the answer he needs.

- - -

Lily and James decide to keep the reception small—just among friends, but Lily insists that Remus be her best man. “Why should only James get one of them?” she asks. “Haven’t we moved past any of this gendered nonsense?”

They get their TiMERS removed ahead of time and use the metal from them as the base for their wedding bands. Despite his best efforts, Remus tears up as they exchange their vows, and when he glances over, he can see the concentrated effort on Sirius’s face as well.

He doesn’t get a moment alone with Lily until they’ve finished with their meals, and she turns to Remus and beams. “So, you and Sirius?” She does little to mask her excitement.

“We’re here for your wedding, and you’re asking me about my relationship?” Remus rolls his eyes and pulls her into a hug. “I’m really happy for you, Lils.”

“I’m happy for me too,” she says, and she looks over at James.

“You didn’t do half-bad for yourself,” Remus teases and nudges her lightly. She laughs.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me the second you two got together,” she says and gives him a stern look. “I shouldn’t have to find out through an RSVP. That’s almost just as bad as finding out on Facebook.”

“You were busy with wedding planning. I didn’t want to distract you.”

“I could have used a distraction. I have never had to look at more tablecloths and cutlery in my life. If I had to say no to one more paisley print, I was sure I was going to lose my mind.”

“Well, it was clearly worth it in the end. I was a fan of those cute little dessert forks.”

“My mom chose those,” Lily says and reaches up, smoothing down a stray hair that had gotten displaced.

“They did scream Ms. Evans.” They reach a small lull, and Remus folds. “I should have told you. I think we just wanted it to ourselves for a while.”

“I’m not mad. I’m just happy for you. You know James and I called this back in second year?”

Before Remus can say anything else, Peter and his new girlfriend walk up to them. “Lily!” Peter exclaims and pulls her into a hug. Remus waves at her over their shoulders and goes to find Sirius.

He finds him on the dance floor with James, shimmying to “I Wanna Dance With Somebody”. He waits to the side, hiding his smirk behind his hand until the song ends. His loud hoot gets Sirius’s attention, and Sirius winks at him before walking over.

“Why don’t I ever get to see those moves?” Remus teases and presses a kiss to his cheek.

“They’re only for special occasions.” His eyes rake down Remus’s frame, and Remus feels his cheeks heat up. “You should wear a suit more often.”

“Is it doing something for you?” He means it as a joke, but Sirius’s gaze darkens, and Remus falters. “Oh.”

Sirius leans in and presses his lips to Remus’s ear as he whispers, “There’s a single stall bathroom on the first floor.” Remus stands, frozen to the spot, and Sirius walks past him and disappears into the crowd. He’s certain that the pink of his cheeks must give them away, but when he tries to discretely look around, no one seems to notice.

There a handful of people waiting outside of the room where the reception is being held, but the first floor is empty. His dress shoes click against the tile of the floor and echo down the halls. It takes him a minute to find the room Sirius had mentioned, and the second he knocks, it opens.

“What would you have done if I was someone else?” Remus asks.

Sirius shrugs. “Stepped outside and waited for you to come down.”

“What if I didn’t?”

“You’re here. Isn’t that answer enough?” A devious smirk spread across Sirius’s face, and he locks the door behind them and pushes Remus up against the wall. His hand traces the hem of Remus’s blazer until it reaches just above the buckle of his belt. “Look at you, all put together,” he says, his lips mere centimeters from Remus’s.

“You’re one to talk.” Remus tries to make a move for Sirius’s waist, but Sirius grabs his wrists and pins them to either side of his head. It’s enough to make Remus’s head spin, and he leans back and lets Sirius take control. Any pretense of cockiness drops, and he stares at Sirius taking short, shallow breaths.

“The things I want to do to you.” Remus wants to ask, but Sirius presses his lips to his neck just where the collar of Remus’s blazer stops, and Remus whimpers instead and tries to resist the urge to roll his hips forward. He kisses his way up and pauses just behind Remus’s ear. “We’ll see just how put together you look when I’m done with you.”

He run the tip of his tongue along the edge of Remus’s ear, and Remus buckles in his arms. When one of Sirius’s hands drops to his belt buckle and pulls it open, Remus squirms. He takes his time moving up Remus’s jaw, and when Remus is certain he has nowhere to go but his lips, Sirius lifts his other hand and presses his thumb into Remus’s mouth, parting his lips.

“You look pretty like this,” Sirius says and slips a hand down and wraps his fingers around Remus’s cock. This thumb runs over the tip, and Remus jerks. The bemused, calculated look in Sirius’s face sends a shiver up his spins, and when Sirius drops his hand and kisses him, Remus closes his eyes.

Sirius runs his hand down and back up the length of Remus’s cock once and deepens the kiss. He stills again, and Remus opens his eyes again and frowns, frustrated. He knows better than to ask considering the look on Sirius’s face. Sirius raises an eyebrow, impressed at Remus’s restraint.

When Sirius drops to his knees and looks up at him, his hand twitches towards Sirius’s hair, but Sirius swats it away. “If I have a single hair out of place by the time I’m done, you’ll regret it later.” He smirks, and Remus bites his cheek, desperate to take him up on the challenge. But he doesn’t. He stills his hand instead and braces himself against the wall when Sirius’s mouth wraps around the head of his cock.

Sirius makes quick work. He takes Remus down far until his nose is pressed into Remus’s skin and his eyes aren’t visible, and Remus tightens his jaw trying not to thrust his hips forward. The pace he first sets is infuriatingly slow, and he meets Remus’s gaze when he runs his tongue along the underside of his cock and over the head, pressing his tongue down slightly at the tip.

Remus comes with a breathy whine, nails digging into the palms of his hands, but Sirius continues until he’s oversensitive and jerks. When he pulls back, Sirius wipes his lower lip with the back of his left hand and stands.

“Can I make you come?” Remus asks.

“Later,” Sirius says. Any protest that begins to bubble up is immediately quashed when Sirius cups Remus over his pants. “Oh Remus, you should know by now that I know how to slip things in our suitcase when you aren’t looking. We’ll make full use of our hotel room tonight. I can wait.” With that, Sirius drops his hand over to the sink. When he’s finished washing his hands, he walks past Remus, brushing shoulders, and out of the bathroom.

The door closes behind him, and Remus shuffles over to the and does his best to smooth out the fabric of his suit. He does his best to calm himself down with several long breaths before straightening his back and stepping out.

He almost feels guilty that he can hardly wait for the reception to be over.

- - -

Remus paces across the apartment, anxiously tidying up the space. “Are you really sure you want to try to spend Christmas with Regulus and his wife?” he asks. “You said he’d invited your parents as well. What if they come?”

Sirius runs a hand through his hair. His brow furrows as he follows Remus with his eyes, and Remus does his best to ignore the look of concern on Sirius’s face. “Can you sit down?” he asks, and Remus ignores him, frustrated that he’s changing the topic. “Remus, if we’re going to have this conversation, can we at least have it face-to-face?”

Sirius stands and moves over to the blanket Remus is folding by their couch. He places his arms on Remus’s shoulders, and Remus stills and collapses against him. “I don’t like this.”

“I know. You’ve made that clear.” Sirius pulls the blanket out from Remus’s hands and finishes folding it himself before setting it down. “But it isn’t your call to make. Reg is allowed to invite whoever he wants. I know what I could be getting myself into, but I want to try to figure out some sort of relationship with him. Part of that is accepting the first olive branch he’s given me since we were eighteen.”

“You’ve been so careful not to see them for eight years,” Remus says. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Then you can go to Lily and James’s Christmas party, and I’ll go to my brother’s. That way, you won’t have to see it,” Sirius snaps. The regret floods his face immediately, but Remus tenses and shakes his head, trying his best to swallow the flash of anger that comes with it.

It doesn’t work. “So, you want to spend Christmas without me?” he asks, his voice bitter. “You can just say it if that’s what you want.” He intends for the accusation to hurt, and it does. Sirius takes a step back, and his shoulders turn slightly inward as he tightens his jaw and looks at Remus.

“That’s not what I’m saying, and you know it! Why do you hold me at arm’s length?” Sirius yells. “You always act like I’m halfway out the door, but that’s not me. That’s you. I’m right here.”

“Because in a few years your TiMER is going to go off, and then you won’t be, and we won’t be spending Christmas together anymore.” The room falls quiet after he speaks, and Remus’s chest gets tighter until he’s not sure he can recall how to breathe anymore.

After a minute, Sirius sits down on the couch, and he motions for Remus to sit next to him. Remus shakes his head, but when Sirius looks up pleadingly, he folds.

“I have to tell you something, and you have to promise not to be mad,” Sirius says, staring down at the floor. Remus wants to tell him that it’s too late for that, but he doesn’t. He says nothing instead, and after a moment, Sirius continues, his voice unsteady.

“When I was fourteen, I fell in love with a guy. His TiMER was set to go off when we were sixteen, but we vowed we wouldn’t let us stop us. It feels really dumb looking back now because you hear that sort of a thing, and you just know how it’s going to end. I mean, we were fourteen for fuck’s sake.” Although Sirius rolls his eyes and tries his best to look as if he’s telling nothing more than a casual story, his eyes seem to water. Before Remus can get a good look, however, Sirius’s hair slips past his ear and hides his face.

“Anyway, his TiMER went off, and he told me that he was sorry, but blah, blah, blah. Had to be with his soulmate. And I lost it. I found a sketchy place that would do it, and I got my TiMER taken out.”

Remus inhales sharply, and when he closes his eyes, all he can hear is the sound of his heart beating hard against his chest. “But your wrist? You have a TiMER.”

“It’s a fake. I got it put in before I started at uni. I didn’t want anyone to ask any questions. I was eighteen. Ten years seemed like far enough away that I didn’t really think about it when they told me to pick a date.”

The world goes still, and Remus’s skin feels oddly cold. Before he can stop himself, he reaches out and turns Sirius by the shoulder. “When did you take it off?” he asks.

“I was sixteen.”

“What month?”

“August. Remus, seriously, what’s going on?”

A high-pitched ringing fills his ears as his eyes move from the TiMER on Sirius’s wrist to the scar on his own. “August 6th?” he asks, his voice small enough that he’s worried that Sirius doesn’t hear.

“What?”

“Was it—”

“How did you know?” His face contorts after a moment, and he stands up and takes a step back. “Did James tell you?”

The room spins around them, but Remus shakes his head wildly and stands up too. “I didn’t take off my TiMER to make a statement. My TiMER went blank when I was sixteen—on August 6th. I assumed my soulmate died. I took it off before I went to uni because I was tired of everyone pitying me.”

He watches as the words settle, and the anger vanishes from Sirius’s face and his jaw goes slack. “Oh.” Just as quickly, something else starts behind his eyes, and he points a finger at Remus. “I knew it. Fucking hell. I knew it.”

“Huh?"

“New Years. I asked you about your TiMER. I had this feeling that it was you, but then—”

“I remember. I was going to tell you the truth, and then those two guys came up, and I didn’t.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Sirius says.

“You didn’t tell me either.”

They stand for a moment, transfixed and unsure, on the precipice of the truth, too afraid to say it, as if speaking will undo it. As the weight of the implication strikes him, it strikes Remus that certainty is no less terrifying. The shaky breath he releases, as quiet as it is, fills the space between them and disrupts the stillness.

“So we’re—” Remus can’t bring himself to say the words, and he starts to shake as his eyes burn.

Sirius steps forward, arms wrapping Remus until it’s all he feels, warm and familiar. “We’re not here because of that. We’re here despite it. I chose you, Remus. Life didn’t choose you for me.”

He feels himself fall loose in Sirius’s arms as he starts to cry. His body trembles, and he lets himself, for the first time, put his full weight against Sirius, trusting him to keep him from falling. He gasps for breath against him and weeps until the shirt pressed against his face is wet.

When he finally pulls back, Sirius cups Remus’s cheek and brushes his thumb under both eyes, wiping away tears. “I chose you too—you know,” Remus says, his voice hoarse.

“I know,” Sirius says, and when he kisses him, Remus doesn’t think about a number on Sirius’s wrist. Instead, he focuses on the feel of Sirius’s lips on his and the touch of his thumb as it brushes against his cheek and settles on a spot behind his ear. For the first time, the future doesn’t matter to Remus Lupin. Everything he needs is in the present.

#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #harry potter #hp #my wolfstar #my fics

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gottawriteanegoortwo · 4 years

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Marmien - Confrontation

This won’t make much sense without reading the first part. Click here to read ‘Confession’ to catch up!

It isn’t like Damien to not talk to his sister, and she’s worried. Celine takes matters into her own hands to solve the mystery of Damien’s sudden withdrawal, even if it means talking to the friend who harboured a misguided crush on her.

Word Count: 1,550

(shout out to my friend @jvnusanders because their reblog reminded me that I actually started this months ago on a scrap of paper in work and completely forgot about it!)

Disclaimer: There is no appearance by Damien in this. But since it’s regarding that ship, I’ve tagged it as such.

A week came and went. Celine had not heard a peep from her brother. Their Wednesday afternoon catch-up even resulted in Celine discovering that Damien had ‘accidentally’ scheduled meetings until late that night and would have to cancel. He was not the kind to clam up and ignore people for childish reasons, especially his sister. Something happened, and Celine knew something needed to be done, even if she got no response from him. A quick interrogation revealed that William hadn’t seen the Mayor in over two weeks, so he was clueless about any potential problems. Celine herself had met Damien three days before he withdrew, and he was in good spirits with no obvious problems. Before she started trying to question Damien’s secretary, there was one other person to ask…

“Ah, Celine! Marvellous timing. I was just about to have someone fetch you.” Mark’s outstretched arms emphasised his dramatic greeting. A quick hug was shared before she found herself being dragged into the spacious living room. It wasn’t what she wanted - something about Mark’s new home made her feel rather uncomfortable for reasons she couldn’t quite explain - but she decided to ignore the feeling in favour of trying to find out how to help her brother.

“I don’t intend to take up much time, Mark. I wanted to check if you -”

“So I’ve had this problem nagging at me all week and I haven’t the foggiest notion of how to fix it.” Celine had to repress a heavy sigh at the interruption by Mark. It was a miracle he was allowed to continue without a scolding on basic manners. “I took your advice and decided to take time to understand myself and what I want for myself. I even asked a fine young gentleman I rather admire out for dinner the following night. Trouble is, he rejected me so harshly and has refused to talk to me since. I’m afraid I’m at a loss on how to have a second chance with him.” As Mark explained his woes, Celine slowly massaged her temple with two fingers.

“You said this was a week ago.”

“Correct.”

“The day after you spoke to me.”

“Also correct.”

Celine sunk her head into her hands. She was no detective, but even a fool could piece this together. “Mark… Did you invite Damien to dinner that night?” Her simple question cracked the bravado clean in two, and Mark slumped forward. A hand brushed through his hair as he tried to regain some sort of composure.

“I… I didn’t think through my actions. Of course it was a terrible idea, in hindsight. I honestly did want his company, but he -”

“Let me guess. Your big mouth mentioned that you had spoken to me the night before?” Mark gave a guilty nod at her conclusion. “And now he won’t talk to any of us because he feels like a spare. Fantastic.”

“None of you?”

“No, genius. He has refused to talk to both myself and William all week. In case you haven’t realised, the three of us are involved in this mess, and you weren’t the only one confiding in Damien about me. Then, when you realise I’m not available and you might not be interested in women at all, you suddenly gain interest in the man who looks very much like me. I’d bet your head was so far up your own ass you didn’t stop to think how horrible that would be for Damien. I had just reached a stage where Damien felt comfortable talking about his sexuality and the idea of dating, and you’ve gone and ruined all that with your impulsive selfishness!”

“My selfishness?” Mark barked, clearly offended. “I was acting on your advice! You told me to talk to another man and see how it went.”

“I never said to chat up Damien the next day, you fool!” Even if her temper was short, she at least could refrain from cursing like a sailor to keep some sort of focus on the matter at hand. “I know Damien better than anyone else, and all your short-sighted ‘me first’ mentality has achieved is cementing his own fear of being used because of it. I would bet good money that he is now convinced that you only wanted to talk to him because he was the next best thing to satisfying your obsession with me.”

“You don’t get it. If he had stayed longer, then he would have seen that I was trying to express my interest in him!”

“Oh, so it’s his fault. Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

“I’m not saying that. I’m trying to tell you that if he were to have dinner with me, all this could be brushed aside as a big misunderstanding.” Mark’s words hung in the air for several agonisingly long seconds. Celine rose to her feet, face devoid of any warmth or friendliness.

“You better be joking, Mark. For your sake, this better be some twisted joke. My brother is not some pawn for you to experiment your sexuality with. He is not some ‘spare’ because I’m not interested, for God’s sake!” She snatched up her shawl instead of following her idea of slapping Mark on Damien’s behalf. “If you know what’s best, you’ll stay away from him.”

“Then what do I do if I think I do like him, Celine? You can’t possibly expect me to avoid him forever while unsure if I missed a wonderful opportunity or not.” It was Mark’s turn to pull himself off the couch to stand his ground.

“You keep away from him. You’re only interested in him because you’re trying to reflect your feelings for me somewhere else. I’m not letting you break his heart and make him too wary to ever consider a relationship. He’s sacrificed his personal life enough for this city and I’m not letting you take away his only chance at happiness.”

“Ugh, you’re being ridiculous. His ‘only’ chance. What are you, six? I do care about him, and I want to prove that by inviting him out to talk! What is so hard to understand about this? Your brother is a very attractive young man and I would be honoured to spend an evening in his company!” That was something he didn’t intend to admit, but out it slipped. He crossed the room to the fireplace to pick up a photograph. It was the four of them not long after Damien won the election. “And it’s not because he looks like you, before you remind me yet again. You aren’t identical, and that’s what I notice. For instance, your smiles are different… I never realised how I loved seeing him laugh until he stormed out last week. It brightened the room, Celine. Did you know that? I used to find myself at a loss for words when we were left alone. He’s so intelligent and charming, and when he smiled at me like I was the most important thing in the world… How did I not recognise these feelings sooner?”

“Because you were raised to look for it in a woman’s gaze?” Celine suggested, calming herself enough to follow after him. “Did you tell him any of this?”

“Of course not. Admitting I liked men to him was hard enough. I was going to, had he stayed… But you’re right. He probably wouldn’t believe me now.” The frame was returned to its rightful spot with care. “If I can be honest, I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried telling myself that it’s something that will blow over, or that it will take little to at least have us on speaking terms again. It won’t be that simple, will it?”

“This isn’t one of your plays, Mark. It’s going to take time for Damien to trust you again. Life is there for the taking, but you need to give it time before doing anything. Promise me that you won’t do anything reckless?” Celine gave Mark a hopeful look, and he was reminded why he believed he loved her. Maybe, in a way, he still did; but he needed to accept it wasn’t the same as what was bubbling in his heart for the soft-spoken politician. “I’m going to try and talk to him this weekend. I’ll let him talk about everything that happened. If you mean what you’ve said, and you genuinely care about him without any fake pretence, then you will not make any attempts to woo him next time you meet him.” It wasn’t an ideal solution for Mark, but he had to accept it. Celine did know better, and he knew better than to cross her. Before he could respond, she wrapped her shawl around her and made her way to the front door.

“Celine, wait!” Mark scrambled after her, not wanting to see her go without saying goodbye. “Thank you. For not simply slapping me and leaving, I mean. I’ll be more cautious if I’m granted a second chance.”

“What can I say? Damien brings out the patience in me.” Also her protective streak, which was quick to follow. “He is my little brother, Mark. If you screw up that second chance, I’ll personally see to it that you spend New Year’s in a wheelchair. Have a good day.”

#writersofmark #marmien #actor mark #celine the seer #who killed markiplier #Shattered Heart (Mark Doom)#Red Soul (Celine)#(one of my first times properly writing her)#(and if the tone changes blame it on the gap between starting and finishing it :P )

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nadiineross · 4 years

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chlodine band au

abandoned concept

Already, Nadine feels as if she has retired. Though she has always enjoyed routine, this is something else entirely—monotony.

Every morning she wakes up at the exact same time, drinks the same coffee, rides the same bus to work. Lunch breaks, she takes alone. The street on which she works is designed to appeal to as many people as possible, so everything is generic as it is flashy. When she had first gotten here, she had devised a list of restaurants within a five minute walk which she would try, and she still uses it as a rotation. On Mondays she eats at the American-style diner, Tuesdays are for Indian food, Wednesdays, Mexican, and so on and so forth.

Work is uninspiring and unfulfilling. Head of security in the city’s biggest music hall. The paperwork is dull and the patrols even more so. The only time she feels remotely close to who she was before Shoreline collapsed is when she’s working out at the gym. Even then, it is a poor substitute.

Routine. Simple, straightforward.

Eventually, she might let go of her resentment and learn to be grateful for the fifteen years she had with Shoreline. Now, however, she can’t help but still be bitter, even two years after it had slipped from her fingers. Her father’s doing; he had grown weak and sentimental, and dissolved the company before she could even think to step in for him. He had gone as far as to forbid her from that career and she was nothing if not dutiful as a soldier and as a daughter, even if it angered her to be so.

She hasn’t spoken to him since. She had moved away so she wouldn’t be tempted to continue their never-ending argument, and found her mind-numbing, soul-sucking job working as a cockblock to crowds of groupies when the next big thing deigned to tour in her coastal city.

She had become robotic. She felt as if she were wasting her life away, doing nothing. Though she was not retired according to the official definition of the word, she had been retired from her career as a soldier and, as someone who had cobbled their entire identity around being one, it was as good as true. Retired at 36.

These are the thoughts that plague her every waking moment. It’s not like the job requires of her more than 4 braincells. She has never been good with idle time.

On top of all that, there is a big concert tonight and will be followed by one more the following night. This, she has been dreading in the months that preceded it. The band is native to the city and, no matter what Nadine thinks of them, they are successful enough for the city to treat them as if they were its crown jewels. They aren’t even a real band—there are only two of them. How they coerced anyone to like them with a name like “Drake’s Fortune,” she will never know.

Still, she doesn’t work at The Rolling Stones, isn’t paid to opine, so she keeps it all to herself and does her job: a circuit of the building, double and triple-checking the locks on all the doors, and checking in on all the guards on duty tonight via radio.

As head of security, she doesn’t have a concrete post for the night. It’s more of a rotation, ensuring the gears are in place and well-oiled, at that. Generally, with big concerts like this, she tries to linger near the backstage to stop any zealous fans her subordinates can’t handle on their own. It hasn’t been that bad tonight and even she will admit the music isn’t terrible. But, of course, the band members themselves sound smarmy and obnoxious. From the hall, she hears the lead, Nathan, try to woo the crowd with his boyish charm and she scoffs at it. Sam the drummer and backup singer tags along and she fears she might roll her eyes so hard they become permanently affixed to the back of her head.

Probably, she has just lost her tolerance for people who are unnecessarily loud about how happy they are with their careers. The irony doesn’t escape her, doing what she does. Every other week, a new band or singer parades through town to laugh and scream and flaunt themselves on a stage in fromt of thousands. And she had been tasked with making sure they make it to the next city intact enough to do it all over again.

She misses the rest of the show, called to the entrance, and she is thankful to leave behind the sounds of the brothers Drake. After that, she has to go help out at the backdoor which takes almost an hour to handle. The thick of the crowd has mostly dissipated by the time the clock hits 12:30am and none of the band members had appeared—thank god for that.

It is another hour before she’s finally finished with all her responsibilities. She immediately takes off her uniform top and ties it around her waist, sweat-stained as it is. She has a second tank top and a spare shirt in her office to change into.

It’s on the way back there that she notices she’s lost the only personal affect she takes to work: a bracelet her mother had gifted her at the airport before she’d left for this city. Immediately, she feels a headache coming on.

If her mother found out, she’d be delivered from an early retirement to an early grave.

Bordering on nauseous, she rushes to retrace her steps: backstage, entrance, backdoor. As she’d expected, she comes up empty. Really, what are the odds?

Sighing, she turns back to the backdoor and begins to unlock it. It’s then when it swings open from the inside; Nadine has to jerk back to avoid getting slammed in the face. A woman comes stumbling out, cursing as she misses the step down into the back alley. She’s in a red shirt, tight and cut just above her bellybutton, and a pair of what looks to Nadine like fashionable, upscale cargo pants. In her hand, she holds a phone which she had obviously been watching instead of her step.

Nadine scowls. “Hey, watch it.”

The woman spins around, a look of surprise flashing across her face. “Sorry.” Then, she squints at Nadine, under the neon lights, and her look of remorse fades into curiosity, and mischief, and an infuriating arrogance. “Hey there.”

Nadine only glares and makes for the door. The woman raises an eyebrow and steps in her way.

“I’m not sure you’re allowed back there, love,” the woman drawls, leaning too close into Nadine’s personal space. Ordinarily, Nadine would’ve put this woman in her place instantly, but the confidence and her apparent access to the backdoor leads her to believe she might be with the Drakes in some capacity. She isn’t interested in losing her job over this. “But I’ll be happy to show you to where you are very much welcome.”

Oh, she thinks Nadine is a groupie. She closes her eyes and tries not to fly off the handle. “Christ, I don’t know who you are but I work here and I’m not in the mood for this.”

To her credit, the woman takes it in stride. She sticks her hand out. “Chloe Frazer, touring member. I play bass.”

Nadine stares at her hand. Stares at the wrist attached to her hand. Stares at the bracelet looped around the wrist.

Slowly, Chloe’s smile fades and she drops her hand. “Look, are you lost?”

“Am I— I’m the head of fucking security,” Nadine barks out, near trembling with rage. “And you’re wearing my fucking bracelet, and you’re in my fucking way, and you’re wearing my fucking bracelet!”

Chloe steps back at the sheer outrage in Nadine’s voice.

“Well?!” Nadine thunders.

Sheepishly, Chloe takes the bracelet off and holds it out to Nadine— she snatches it back and tightens it hard enough to maybe cut off circulation.

Chloe clears her throat. “Hey, uh, I found it. I was going to bring it to lost and found.”

Nadine scowls. “Funny, I’ve worked here for ages and I’ve never heard of the back alley lost and found. Must’ve slipped my notice.”

“Actually, the thing is, I was going to make a call first—”

“Save it.”

And Nadine wrenches the door open and slams it shut behind her, and storms her way through the building with a glower so biting she thinks she spots Nathan Drake ducking behind a crate to get out of her way. As it should be.

note: so basically im incapable of giving either of them occupations that arent treasure hunting so it wouldve turned out chloes an eccentric well off treasure hunter who also plays bass sometimes for her friends cos she’s a hot girl and nadine, unhappy w her career, is offered a job by chloe (see: tll) but this is only after nadine n chloe hv been dating for a while:) i dont like this enough to continue it but here ya go

#chlodinefics #chlodine

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xgalacticgabx · 7 years

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So I was tagged by @horcuoxes Rules: answer these 82 questions and tag 20 people. Last 1. drink? iced tea 2. phone call? my brother 3. text message? my friend gary 4. song you listened to? solve it squad opening  5. time you cried? either monday or tuesday this week Have you ever 6. dated someone twice? yes 7. kissed someone and regretted it? yes 8. been cheated on? no 9. lost someone special? no 10. gotten drunk and thrown up? no Favourite colors: 11. blue 12. purple 13. yellow In the last year have you 14. made new friends? i think at least 1 15. fallen out of love? no 16. laughed until you cried? yes definitely  17. found out someone was talking about you? lol yep 18. met someone who changed you? yes 19. found out who your friends are? big time 20. kissed someone on your facebook list? no General: 21. how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life? don't have fb  22. do you have any pets? a doggo 23. do you want to change your name? no 24. what did you do for your last birthday? stayed home and chilled with my family  25. what time did you wake up? 8:30 am ew 26. what were you doing at midnight last night? listening to firebringer  27. name something you can’t wait for? solve it squad the most  28. when was the last time you saw your mom? last wednesday  29. what are you listening to right now? We Love the Prince (SAF)  30. have you ever talked to a person named tom? yes but barely  31. something that is getting on your nerves? ew school and fake people at said school  32. most visited website? youtube  33. hair colour? blonde 34. long or short hair? longish ?  35. do you have a crush on someone? not really 36. what do you like about yourself? i like my thought process (weird answer but just go with it) 37. piercings? ears  38. bloodtype? no clue 39. nickname? gabby or gab  40. relationship status? confused 41. zodiac? pisces  42. pronouns? she/her  43. favourite tv show? glee  44. tattoos? i want to but no 45. right or left handed? right  46. surgery? nope 47. sport? basketball (which i hate) and dance  48. vacation? i just came back from atlantic city today woo 49. pair of trainers? idk what this means i'm dumb More general 50. eating: fries  51. drinking: iced tea 52. i’m about to: watch solve it squad again probs 53. waiting for: my friend to make plans with me 54. want: to not go to school  55. get married? um probably not 56. career? doctor? Which is better 57. hugs or kisses? hugs  58. lips or eyes? eyes  59. shorter or taller? taller  60. older or younger? doesn't matter  61. nice arms or nice stomach? um (lauren lopez's arms)? 62. hook up or relationship? none? 63. troublemaker or hesitant? hesitant have you ever 64. kissed a stranger? no 65. drank hard liquor? no 66. lost glasses/contacts? no 67. turned someone down? yeah 68. had sex on the first date? no  69. broken someones heart? maybe 70. had your heart broken? nope 71. been arrested? no 72. cried when someone died? yep 73. fallen for a friend? no Do you believe in 74. yourself? half way  75. miracles? yes 76. love at first sight? not really  77. santa? bitch ofc 78. kiss on the first date? no 79. angels? possibly other 80. current best friend’s name: serena  81. eye color: blue 82. favorite movie: don't really have one. probs some disney movie. idk who hasn't done this already so sorry if you did. i tag @starkidmoonshoes @dikratstarkid @insaneinsecureintrovert

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my-bobohu-blog · 7 years

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[170401] a personal update and a very detailed list of my future plans that give me a reason to keep living

so... i’ve been having a rough time again. i don’t even remember if i wrote it down or not? if i recorded it anywhere... but these past couple of days... or weeks i guess... it just felt like i was thrown back into the dark and it felt... terrifying. there was a day when i just couldn’t get out of bed because i just couldn’t? i tried and i wanted to but it just... wasn’t working... i couldn’t function and it felt like i was falling apart but i couldn’t figure out why no matter how many times i tried to walk myself through my emotions. it just felt like i was turned off. and now being back at school at that godforsaken school... it feels 100x worse. i just... i hate being there so much and it makes me feel so empty inside.

sigh. i wanted to journal about all of this but the words never come out right and it takes so much more effort to format it correctly where it’ll work with my brain. but this works too because i can edit things quickly and cleanly without scribbling all over my cute little journal. and sometimes it just takes to long to write everything i want to say and my hand can’t keep up with my thoughts and i don’t want to leave anything out because my little plans for the future are important to me and even the smallest plans bring me a lot of joy so i just... i want to keep track of them all, mm?

okay... so... i guess i’ll start listing off my future plans one by one in chronological order because it brings me a kind of peace and it makes me happy knowing that i’ll be capable of achieving these things one day...

for this weekend:

start my poetry readings (homer’s iliad) and idk just be a bit more active in my learning instead of trying to just run away from it

check canvas for any global health readings too so i can plan time to do those readings before monday’s class

watch ep 12 of swdbs (hehehe tonight hopefully after i take a nice shower and put my hair into braids)

for this coming week:

i will go to all my classes this week. no more skips. and i’ll get on top of my work (which isn’t much i don’t think) but i will be prepared

go bowling with hai maybe? i don’t know. we’ll see and i think i should be more honest with myself when it comes to him too

i wanna start a drama (the one with joy and lee hyun woo) and also keep watching grey’s anatomy and running man

the weather is supposed to be nicer on monday through wednesday so maybe i’ll go to the zoo one of those days and see my baby otter pups

i should get my genetics and a&p credits transferred before something miraculously stupid happens like uw expels me for kicks and giggles

deposit money into the bank account to pay off my bills and to make up for all the shit i spent money on these past couple months (no regrets)

look cute one of these days and go take some selfies by the cherry blossoms @ the quad... which would be cool, hmm?

buy some more strawberry milk bc it makes me happy :)

for this month:

go to the zoo at least twice to visit the baby otter pups and to just... enjoy the zoo whether it’s on my own or with company

no skipping classes in april to the best of your ability... because may and june might be hard and i need to keep it together at least one month

make sure to have a bad day preparedness plan just in case the bad days are bad and skipping isn’t an option

figure out a schedule to start working out on a weekly basis- but at the very least start working out at home or something

buy some cool socks and make hai a picture ornament for his birthday that’s coming up

fly to la to see fey, exo, and some sunshine LOL~ remember to have a good time and to just enjoy life as it comes

trim bangs

for this school year:

pray like there’s no tomorrow that i got into the MLS program because it means the world to me and i want to stop being disappointed by life

pray some more just in case and just... pray a lot, hmm? just... lots of praying tbvh

apply to the biology major (ba bc bs is a pain in the ass even if it’s just one more physics class- fuck that)

do my best to just finish this quarter strong and to just get through it no matter what it may throw at me

drive to the beach on a really sunny/warm day and just feel the wind blow through my hair and enjoy life

transfer every single one of my credits and just get that taken care of so that i can figure out my next steps at this godforsaken school

go to oshian’s graduation and get her the most kickass present i can think of/make because she deserves it more than the world

for the future and beyond:

get into the mls program and totally kick ass by being motivated to learn new shit and making friends with my small cohort

get into the bio major and kick ass at that too because biology is just in my blood and engraved in my heart at this point

take a shit ton of challenging classes that make life worth living and do my clinical rotations and kick ass at that too because it’s lab and i love it

graduate with a bs in mls and a ba in bio and a minor in chem and if i’m feeling ambitious lets just tag on a minor in microbio too if i can

but really, graduate with at least a bs in mls because that’s what matters and i’m gonna do great with that too

apply to hospitals in seattle and boston and move to boston if there’s a place for me there

go on a big ass trip of joys and wonders after i graduate and before i move for my big senior solo trip

visit south korea, japan, and taiwan~ (maybe schedule it around the time of an exo concert, mm? and go to hot springs in japan~)

visit sm coex, go to pet cafes, run through the taiwanese night markets, eat all the delicious foods, just... live and be happy and explore

move to boston (hopefully) and start over with a new life with a job at a wonderful hospital~ live there for 2-3 years and see how it goes

go to farmers’ markets and buy myself fruits and flowers, learn how to cook more, live on my own, drink wine and watch netflix on my own

get a corgi and name it bubby and love it more than anything else in the world because it will be my lil love and my lil bub and it will own my soul

travel to europe and visit england, spain, france, and germany and idk anywhere in between wherever my heart takes me

apply to graduate school (maybe u of maryland) and get a masters in the pathologists’ assistant program

become a freaking pathologists’ assistant??? and make $100k+ a year??? and kick fucking ass???

open up Bubby’s Bookshop (latter half of name still pending) as a safe space for ppl to go and be at peace

oh and adopt lola (or lolo) and my cat sparkles~ and shower them with all the love in the world

make special spaces in bubby’s bookshop like lola’s library and sparkles’ safe space w/ lil themes for ppl to seek comfort in

maybe get my phd??? so that i can be the lab director of a lab one day and just... still totally kick ass? because... that would be awesome

dr. elaine~ ayeeeeee LOLOLOL but really... that would be kind of really great and cool and exciting

buy a beach house or something... maybe start small and just rent a beachside apartment ya know? but... i’ll get there ;)

live simply, humbly, and happily

for everything in between my life plans:

remain flexible and have back ups and don’t be afraid to let go of certain future plans simply because they aren’t gonna work out

if i don’t get into the mls program, then i’ll get my bio degree and get a certification program in mls and i’ll go from there and adjust accordingly

if i choose a path different from pathologists’ assistant, then that’s cool too as long as i enjoy whatever path i take

hope and pray that my heart still belongs in labs and that truly where i am happy and where my soul resides

if not, then i can figure out something else from there too. there will always be time

for the bad days and the good days and life in between:

tell someone (oshian probably bc she’s my person) whenever those bad waves come before i start to drown too deeply

do not be afraid to reach out and to just... ask for help no matter how much of a burden i feel like i am... because i still matter and i need help

go to the zoo often and go to the beach often and just go places often. try to avoid holing myself in my room if i can avoid it

take advantage of good opportunities and try to put myself out there every once in a while- like good internships

keep friends. don’t push them away... because they matter and they’re important and they are everything

dude, go out to eat with other people. like literally anyone and not just by myself bc sometimes it’s a tad depressing and company is fucking gr8

take care of myself and know my own limits because those are essential to my sanity and my health and hopefully it will get better

but if it doesn’t, at least i’ll still have me and i will get myself through every single bad day in life and i will persevere and survive

even if this is the longest shit i’ve written it still feels so incomplete? like i’m missing something or that i’m leaving out some small details that really matter... but... i think that’s okay, hmm? i hope... i hope i can achieve these things or at least still remain true to the heart and soul that is striving after these things.

i want to be better. i want to be a better elaine that little-elaine can look up to and be proud of. i want big-elaine to look back and think, “you did good little one. thank you for the strength to get us to this point. you did good.” because that matters and because... because even if i make all these plans, i’m still scared that something is going to go wrong with my heart and my soul and that somewhere underneath all of this is someone who is rotten at the core and... and i hope that’s not true... but i’m trying. i’m trying my best and i’m trying to be the best i can be even if that just means buying strawberry milk on a wednesday to help me get through the rest of the week. and i don’t know if that made sense... but it matters to me. because... because i’ve gone through a shit ton and i don’t always think i’m a good person... but goddammit i’m trying and that has to count for something... it has to matter to me that i’m trying.

sigh.

none of my future plans really have people involved specifically... except osh bc she’s my best friend and i will fight like hell to keep her in my life even if i’m living across the country. but... there’s no plans for a boyfriend or a husband... because... because i feel like if i do that then i’ll be weak and that somehow having plans will break my heart when they don’t come true because they never do. so idk... i don’t even know why i wanted to mention this but i also kind of know because i told myself i’d be honest with myself today. and the truth is... i’m scared of being alone and i’m scared of settling and i’m scared of being with someone i’m unhappy with so i’d rather just be alone because i can control how i feel about myself and i can control those aspects of my future because they’re my future and someone else’s future isn’t a part of that- not really. and... and i’m scared of someone walking in and changing my plans and then walking right back out after damage has been done... and i’m scared because i can’t control their feelings but... but i don’t want to have to pick up all my broken pieces each time someone walks out of my life either. i’ve grown so tired of it.

but... but i won’t lie. i want someone who is gonna hug me at the end of the day and kiss me on the forehead and hold my hand and tell me that even on my worse days, things are going to be okay... that i’m going to be okay. because they’ll know that only me telling myself those things isn’t always enough so they’re there to support me too. and... and i want to love someone. really love someone and just... link arms with them and let them cuddle up with me in bed and tell them about my future plans and ask about theirs and maybe make future plans together. my goodness i don’t want to end up alone but i feel like i will just because i’m too fucking scared to include anyone in my future... but... i hope... i really hope that i won’t end up alone. which is a stupid sentiment by the way bc i have osh and my family who love and adore me and would do anything for me... and i’m still trying to figure out what i mean when i want someone to love me... and i guess i mean that in a s/o kind of way but... but still... it just... feels weird. like i want someone special but osh and family are still special and i don’t know how to specify what i want in words but i think it’s understandable but i wish i could just break it down and really make sense of what i want... sigh. idk... i’m just rambling at this point.

alright... i’m growing tired because i’m still not sure what the point of these last few points were. anyways.

to my little love (aka me), you are doing great and i’m proud of you. even if the depression feels like it’s eating you alive- you are going to survive this. you have goals and plans and it’s going to be okay because you’re smart and you’re going to fight and you’re going to survive this and it’s going to get better. even if life decides to screw you over at every corner you turn, you’re going to persevere and make it through. even if you have to suffer, you will fucking persevere because that’s just what you do and that’s what your heart is made of. it was meant to persevere even in the toughest times that test you and make you want to give up- you never will. even if there are smaller things that occupy your mind and your time- even if there are things that make you more vulnerable than you ever anticipated despite you knowing it shouldn’t- you’re gonna be okay and it’s going to be okay. you are going to accomplish all your goals in the best of your ability and you’re going to have a bright future because that’s just who and what you are. you are light and you are meant to live simply and brightly and it’s going to be okay. and even if you find yourself in the darkness, you will light your own way and figure your way out. you are strong my little potato bud. you are going to be great and i am so proud of you.

#for me #i just... need a place to put my thoughts #painfully personal #personal #the longest fucking post i've ever written #for the bad days

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