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#my sister said she found her crying on the porch in the dark
bottomcyclonus · 1 year
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My sister is a total cunt and around when we were kids, 12 (her) and 15 (me), she became a really big fan of that Jesus guy, but in a ‘if you wear lipstick that’s TOO red you’re clearly a whore who is doing naughty things with the devil’ and ‘all “dark” animals like black cats, snakes, rats, spiders, and bats were sent by the devil himself”. W e had an older home, and the way it was set up is that one of our vents had a chute that went over the porch, and you could look down it and see basically right over the porch itself. This is relevant because I, at the time, really wanted a cat and our parents were considering it. However, cheese cunt (my nickname for her which she hated <3) saw me looking at an adoption page for a black cat. She absolutely lost it and said that I was trying to bring the devil into our home and that I was going to hell and that that cat was evil and going to claw out my eyes in my sleep. We got in a BIG fight over that. By the time we moved out there were still puncture marks in the wall from where she went at me with a fork. Back to the porch and vent. Kind of. I _needed_ to get this bitch, so I recruited two of my good friends who I knew would be ready to commit a fuckery. One of them had a pet snake (which I think she found in her yard and abducted adopted) and she fed him frozen mice and whatnot. Obviously we weren’t going to involve her snake, but the frozen mice? Those were fair game. Her job was to bring the mice and help behind the scenes. My other friend, he’s a big guy, intimidating if you don’t know him, *his* job was to be the devil. We’d found a dead bat in my attic (again old house) and made it look alive with popsicle sticks, then tied it to a string wound through the vent. We planned the fuckery for when our parents were staying at a hotel for their anniversary, so we were home alone all weekend. We had a pizza box as bait outside, with the frozen mice inside arranged in a pentagram. My guy friend was dressed up in a stereotypical grim reaper outfit, big black cloak, white ghoulish face, lantern, the works. We waited around until night, then he rang the door bell and hid, with the pizza box left on the porch, just far out enough that you would have to step outside. Me and my friend were in the bathroom when then happened so that my sister would have to go look. In reality, she was waiting above, ready with the bat, and I was hiding behind the garage door, which was right next to our front door. The moment I hear my sister let go of the door I gently closed it and locked it on her. I heard her scream and the sound of her dropping the pizza box, which was my friends cue to drop the bat on her and dance it around. At this point she’s freaking out and trying to get back inside, screaming and shrieking. I turn off the porch light, and from the shadows across the street, emerges my friend, face dimly lit by the lantern in his hand. I had to muffle my laughter with my fist in my mouth cause my sister is yelling like she’s going to die, which yeah, I can see her thinking that. All my friend had to do was walk across the street and point at her to get her to start crying, and she bolted into our backyard, where she tried to get in through the back door that was unfortunately for her, locked, courtesy of me. We made her stay out there for an hour or so, giving us time to put everything back to normal and sober ourselves up from laughing so hard. Then I let her back in and acted like I didn’t know anything. We got the cat and I named him Pizza.
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THIS IS A TRANSFORMERS BLOG
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v-via-a · 8 months
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The Lost Boys Short Imagine ~
Female Reader x
When the Frog Brothers betray their friend and capture Stars younger sister who will be there to save her?
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Y/N L/N
The Frog Brothers stood there in front of me. Edgar holds holy water in his hand in a bottle with Alan holding a stake. In an old factory where they had lead me too. They said my sister Star was here and she was in trouble.
"You know you can kill anyone with a stake? So what's the point of plunging that into me just for me to be dead and human?" I sneer at Alan.
I keep an eye on Edgar. I don't know if the holy water will scar me as i haven't made a first kill yet. I didn't ask for this but it happened. Knowing them for years for their beliefs with Sam tagging along with them. For him only to bump into me, i tried to warn him but couldn't bring myself to tell him what i was. I didn't want to hurt anyone and i still don't.
"We know you're a shit sucking vampire, it's only a matter of time until you start killing we should have known all along"
They apparently killed the group i was with before, i was only living with them because, they were vampires too. They recently found out I was one. Doing too much research in on newspapers in the library and records.
They were my friends Edgar and Alan. Sam and me we are or were- it all came together for them at the library. They were all researching into the history of Santa Carla. The vampires that got killed, their names showed up and the year the went missing and how old they were. That's when my and sisters name came up.
Y/N L/N
Star L/N
Both last seen on their porch door in the hills of Santa Carla.
Star L/N -
Weight - 120
Eye colour - Brown
Hair colour - Brown
Age - 20
Y/N L/N
Weight -
Eye colour -
Hair colour -
Age - 17
Date of disappearance - May 18th 1950
Edgar and Alan had turned on me just like that.
"I thought you were my friends, i was nothing like them-"
"Was this your plan all along? Have all of us to trust you? Turn us into scum? You and your sister tricking Sam and Michael!?"
"No, she loves him dearly, I love Sam i would never hurt them or you"
Edgar came up closer to me with the holy water and back up against the wall with Alan following behind him. He pulled out a pocket knife against my neck. I try to keep calm but my hunger was getting to me. The only was Start and I were surviving was off animals, we didn't want to kill. We tried to only get animals we found suffering or old but it was rare.
"Let's see if it's true vampires have blood or not" putting it closer to my neck.
"Edgar please, Alan" i cry looking at them.
I close my eyes tight, i don't bother to fight because i told them i would never hurt them and i won't.
"Aren't you going to fight back?" he pushes me hard trying to rile me up.
"I told you I don't want to hurt you two, I won't"
"Yeah but I will!" a voice called out.
Alan and Edgar turn around quickly raises their weapons Alan left out a scream being thrown across the room off a wall being knocked out.
"Who's there!?" Edgar yells still having me against the wall.
"Get away from her!"
"Sam?!" I yell out smiling but as he appears from the dark my smile slightly fades.
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"What have you done Sam!! Don't make me hurt your or her!" Edgar spat at him.
"Oh i'm trembling!" he mocks Edgar.
I drop to the floor as Edgar finally let go of me i choke coughing clutching my neck. I look up to see them fighting.
They both lunge at each other with Sam knocking the knife and water from his hand. The scrap on the grow punching one another. I see it in Sam he didn't want to hurt Edgar or Alan. Edgar pinned Sam down starting to punch at his face with Sam managing to dodge a few hits.
"Get away from him!" I ran to the two punching Edgar hard as he throws me back on the ground hitting my head hard it starts to bleed.
"Ugh!" i cry out in pain. i hear the punches stop as Edgar gets flung across next to Alan rolling to him. Sam helps me up quickly pulling my hair back seeing my slash.
"Sam, I can't keep it in any longer" i cry out.
"It's okay, you're in control...leave it out. I turn away as i feel my face changing my heart pumping fast.
SAM EMERSON
I see her starting to change, I'm terrified for her but i see Edgar helping Alan up as they start to run back to us. They stop dead in their tracks as they see Y/N's face.
"You can leave now, and forget about us for good or we can do this the hard way" I stand slightly in front of her.
"Sam, how could you do this? Turn into one?" Alan asks sounding shocked and angry.
"I have been like this for ages, with her- I couldn't stand the thought of me growing old seeing her staying young..."
"So you turn into a fucking vampire!?" Edgar spat.
"Like i said either the easy way or hard way which one is it going to be" i hiss at them keeping back Y/N as i can feel her hunger, seeing their blood on their arms and noses.
"Fuck you Emerson! Fuck you L/N!" Edgar and Alan spat walking away dropping their weapons in defeat.
We both watch the two walk out, more likely out of our lives for good. As i calm down my face and hers change back to normal. I look at her with a smile as i pull her in for a hug. "Are you okay?" I ask kissing her forehead.
"You turned...you turned for me? How?" she looks up with tears in her eyes but a smile on her face.
"I-found the old wine, I drank it a week ago- I found out about you, Star told me everything, it took a lot to take in but for my brothers and her sake and especially for you, i kept quiet and tried to hide the information but they found it, it's true what i said, i couldn't stand thinking i would grow old without you- I love you so much" I cup her face and kiss her. The kiss got deeper as her arms wrap around my neck we break the kiss as she says -
"You do know you're stuck with me now" She laughs.
"I do, we can control it together, you, me and -" I get interrupted before i can finish with our names being calling out. "Sam?! Y/N?!"
"Michael..." i leave out a sigh of relief.
"Star!" Y/N leaves my arms to see my brother and her sister.
I run up to Michael hugging him tightly with Star hugging Y/N.
"Sammy are you okay!?" he checks my hands and face.
"Yeah, I'm fine Mikey" i smile pulling him in for another hug.
"Oh Y/N your head!" her sister touches the scar lightly, she wince as it stings.
"I'm fine" she smiles with Mikey looking at it also.
"They are gone...Edgar and Alan for good" I sigh thinking how they could betray and attack Y/N and I.
"We have to stick together from now on, no matter what" Michael says to us bringing us in for a hug.
As we walk out into the night with the wind hitting us.
"We'll see you soon, i want to bring her to the beach"
"Be careful" Michael tells me as he helps Star get on the back his bike. "See you soon" Star waves at the both of us.
Y/N  L/N
"I'm sorry i didn't tell you sooner, i thought you would freak out and either run or kill me...or both" i look out at the ocean.
"If i knew before a vampire could be so beautiful, i would never hurt you, ever" he grabs my hand looking at me.
I smile up towards him as i lean up kissing him again.
"I love you" i whisper into his ear. He whispers back a sentence everyone would love to hear.
"I will always love you, forever"
"When are we going in?" Alan asks watching them from a distance.
"Let them have their moment...they are bound to kill soon, next missing persons alert comes up, that's when we go, we will kill them"
Edgar and Alan stares down at the two from a distance on their bikes. Breaking their promise to them but not to themselves. Believing they are the truth and protectors of the American way.
No one is safe.
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kittehoddkat · 1 year
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My sister is a total cunt and around when we were kids, 12 (her) and 15 (me), she became a really big fan of that Jesus guy, but in a ‘if you wear lipstick that’s TOO red you’re clearly a whore who is doing naughty things with the devil’ and ‘all “dark” animals like black cats, snakes, rats, spiders, and bats were sent by the devil himself”. W e had an older home, and the way it was set up is that one of our vents had a chute that went over the porch, and you could look down it and see basically right over the porch itself. This is relevant because I, at the time, really wanted a cat and our parents were considering it. However, cheese cunt (my nickname for her which she hated <3) saw me looking at an adoption page for a black cat. She absolutely lost it and said that I was trying to bring the devil into our home and that I was going to hell and that that cat was evil and going to claw out my eyes in my sleep. We got in a BIG fight over that. By the time we moved out there were still puncture marks in the wall from where she went at me with a fork. Back to the porch and vent. Kind of. I _needed_ to get this bitch, so I recruited two of my good friends who I knew would be ready to commit a fuckery. One of them had a pet snake (which I think she found in her yard and abducted adopted) and she fed him frozen mice and whatnot. Obviously we weren’t going to involve her snake, but the frozen mice? Those were fair game. Her job was to bring the mice and help behind the scenes. My other friend, he’s a big guy, intimidating if you don’t know him, *his* job was to be the devil. We’d found a dead bat in my attic (again old house) and made it look alive with popsicle sticks, then tied it to a string wound through the vent. We planned the fuckery for when our parents were staying at a hotel for their anniversary, so we were home alone all weekend. We had a pizza box as bait outside, with the frozen mice inside arranged in a pentagram. My guy friend was dressed up in a stereotypical grim reaper outfit, big black cloak, white ghoulish face, lantern, the works. We waited around until night, then he rang the door bell and hid, with the pizza box left on the porch, just far out enough that you would have to step outside. Me and my friend were in the bathroom when then happened so that my sister would have to go look. In reality, she was waiting above, ready with the bat, and I was hiding behind the garage door, which was right next to our front door. The moment I hear my sister let go of the door I gently closed it and locked it on her. I heard her scream and the sound of her dropping the pizza box, which was my friends cue to drop the bat on her and dance it around. At this point she’s freaking out and trying to get back inside, screaming and shrieking. I turn off the porch light, and from the shadows across the street, emerges my friend, face dimly lit by the lantern in his hand. I had to muffle my laughter with my fist in my mouth cause my sister is yelling like she’s going to die, which yeah, I can see her thinking that. All my friend had to do was walk across the street and point at her to get her to start crying, and she bolted into our backyard, where she tried to get in through the back door that was unfortunately for her, locked, courtesy of me. We made her stay out there for an hour or so, giving us time to put everything back to normal and sober ourselves up from laughing so hard. Then I let her back in and acted like I didn’t know anything. We got the cat and I named him Pizza.
Such an amusing story,
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Here's what I think pizza looks like, I think he would be happy that you fought so hard for him
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beezealous · 2 months
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Why do I cry so much for someone who was never truly mine? I shared him, without realizing it. I think I always knew because when she’d call, he’d go outside. Everyone else who would call he would talk to with me in the room. “She was the love of his life” is what she told me the day of his funeral. I’ll never forget it. The day I became numb and the mask of adapting to people around me went up. The day was dark and cloudy. I wore a black dress with black wedges that wrapped around my ankles, my long black hair touching my mid back and the bracelet he’d given me. I Sat in the front row with his brother and his sister in law. Apart of me died that day. That day I looked in the casket and found a lifeless body of someone who looked like the man I wanted to spend forever with the year prior, before all the toxicity became prevalent in our relationship. I left the tear stained note I had spent all night writing in his hands with a kiss on his cold corpses forehead, my final goodbye… or so I thought. It had always been him for me. There was never another in my mind, I had spent my whole twenties loving this man and his kids. I wanted the white picket fence, the porch swing, the oak tree with our initials carved into it with babies and our dogs. The first year we got together I expressed my dream and he wanted the same. Those memories rushed through my mind as family member after family member went up to speak of memories of him. Each one in tears, not me. I’m “strong” I sat there with tears swelling up and shedding them as needed no wailing, or whispering, no sobbing just sitting there in denial and cold. I’m broken, bruised, betrayed, seized. I’m the one who should be in the casket not him. He had his kids, our dogs, his family. I have no one to live for. He had everyone. After the service each of us got in our cars escorted by police and the hurse that Carried the love of my life. The cemetery was filled with loved ones. Filled with emotions, love. I held his niece who had lost her father early in her life, this man was her father figure. She cried and I embraced her, held her, stroked her hair and let her know she is loved and will be okay. As we watched him being lowered I heard a voice, I like to think it was Gods divine intervention. “You’re next if you don’t stop” surely that wasn’t for me. I thought to myself. The sun shined on my face exactly like when I got the text he had taken his last breath. The sun shone through the clouds and the rain stopped. Like I said Gods divine intervention. Only God could know how bad my addiction to numbing my brokenness was. The man I watched with blankness in my eyes being lowered into the casket took his final breath because of alcohol. Alcohol was my choice of poison. God knew it.
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blissfullybloomed · 7 months
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Transition
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What a week. Has it only been a week? It's been a week since Ive moved from Wisconsin to Ohio, and it's been one of the best weeks of my life. It's like, I won the boss fight on Dark Souls…these bosses are NOT easy. No, it's more than that…I'm at peace. 
I have spent a year working on myself. A lifetime battle of mine dwindled down to a year of consistent and hard work.The work that makes you see ALL parts of yourself- the good and the bad. The really good and the really bad too. A year of figuring out what my boundaries were, and actually sticking to them. A year reconnecting with people that I never thought I could, and finding out they are beautiful people too. A year of getting rid of anything toxic to my growth, and realizing the blunt reality of things. A year of learning how to accept things I can not change, and understanding that I am enough as I already am. A year of crying, kicking, screaming, isolating, and fighting…when all I had to do was to accept people, places, and things for who and what they currently are, and understand that it's okay if they don't line up with me. Do I believe people can change? Absolutely…BUT….they have to want it for themselves first and foremost. If a specific person is reading this…thank you for that lesson. I never knew how that would be a catalyst into the best part of my life. There was a person in my life that wasn't scared to be blunt and honest with me during our friendship. I wasn't ready to hear or accept it. I heard you and got to work. So, thank you. I'm so sorry for all the chaos I drug you through. 
During this week, I have learned things about my family I never knew. I've got to sit in the back of my own car, and have my sister in law drive me to her house …because I live there now- not because it's the closest to Columbus Airport. I got to watch a movie with my family. Not just any movie…my favorite movie. I got to drive to my new job, Hospice Massage Therapist/Activity Director, and that's a 2 minute drive. I got to be greeted by people I haven't met, and they STILL said I have this light that shines bright, and they are so excited to have me on the team. I got to do a yoga pose with my papaw. I got to have a conversation with my mother that was 10 years overdue. I have been exposed to the show Big Brother…and I still don't get it LOL! But I get to spend time with Zachary figuring it out. I got to listen to new music with my aunt.I got to learn that my uncle is still working 48 hours a day. My sister Jess was even there in spirit. I felt her when all 11 of us were sitting on the porch…she was there. She was there clapping her hands, she was there when we lifted the lanterns too. She’s always here. We miss you Jess. I could go on and on and on…. I'm so glad to be home. It really is the little things in life that mean so much, and I'm sorry it took me so long to figure that out. 
I think the crying will eventually stop. Crying from being so damn happy when the things I've envisioned happening for years…have finally happened. Moving back to Ohio was the best decision I've made in a very long time. Chunk and Chee are happier too. They have new sights, sniffs, and sounds to explore. My cats saved me too. I wish they knew how much. I think they do. Animals are incredible creatures. 
So, here's to this week- I start my new career. I'm a hospice massage therapist. I have 14 patients, and 148 residents to watch over with an incredible team. I can't tell you readers enough how incredibly lucky I am to have found this career. This career found me. Jess showed it to me actually. She grew up with nurses and aides in our home her entire life…she had a hospice massage therapist. This was before I even knew a hospice massage therapist was a thing. Thank you sister, thank you from the bottom of my heart. You taught me how to love again, how to put others before myself, how to give without expecting something back, how to treasure all the precious moments life has to offer someone, how to keep moving even when I can't move, and how to trust the right people. My sister is with me during every client I have…and will continue to be the reason I do what I do everyday moving forward. I love you past the end of the earth. Thank you. Thank you a million times. I love you. 
Ohio. Here we go, my old friend.  “My emotions need to be as educated as my intellect. It's important to know how to feel, how to respond, and how to let life in so it can touch you.”- Victoria Bloom.
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dellb1969 · 1 year
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Summer 1980 (This entry is going to be incredibly difficult to write and I’ve been putting it off.)
Our family was growing more with my youngest sisters, ‘The Twins’ being born.
They were born premature, each with their own set of challenges and given a limited amount of time spent here on Earth.
Because they were born with severe conditions, they were separated and each sent to nearby city hospitals for medical care. My mother was torn between, Minneapolis, Sioux Falls and home. Not to mention that she was in college and had a full time job.
It was up to the rest of us to pull together and make sure that we were taking good care of each other and ourselves.
My father was working at the tribe as a department manager for a community program. He seemed to carry on his own life of being home and time spent at the bowling alley. He did divide his weekend time to travel to whichever city my mother was in as she was dividing her time between my sisters.
They spent the first two years of their lives in and out of hospitals, with some weekends at home. Often they’d see one another either at home or when the other would visit. They’re connection was really uncanny in that they were separated by hundreds of miles but seemingly knew that the other was ‘there’.
Loni would end up spending a lot time in the hospital in town where she would be placed in an oxygen tent. She longed so much for attention and to be held. Her senses for family were heightened. So much so that she could hear you enter the building and walk down the hallway to her room.
She’d begin to cry and stand with excitement long before you even entered the room. Her tiny little arms would be stretched outwards, reaching for you. My heart would break every time.
After school was over for the day I would stay in town and walk to the hospital to visit. Often my big brother would already be there, together they’d sit in a chair and she would rest her head on his shoulders. They were each other’s favorite. The oldest and the youngest.
When he would get ready to leave she would cry and cling to his clothing as he handed her to me. I would talk to her and do my best to soothe her and convince her that my hugs were pretty darn good too.
My sisters would eventually get home by age two. By then, I was home from Tekakwitha too.
Actually part of the reason I wanted to be at Tek during this time was due to taking some pressure off of my parents. I knew what a trying time they were having and I was spun way out into my own problems. I think for the time, I was in the best place.
I took this picture when they were about four years old. I babysat them often and would enjoy dressing them up. Fixing their hair and taking pictures. They remember the time that I scorched the top of their heads with the curling iron.
Once when they were still toddlers, my parents hired a babysitter for the night. I was thirteen years old and an alcoholic already. Friday night was party night. So I was out trying to find one. No such luck. I made my way back home at about eleven pm.
As I walked closer to our house I could hear loud music and saw that the house lights were all on. There was a party. I thought, why are my parents having a party, how unusual.
There teenagers everywhere, in our bedrooms and so I walked up the stairwell and the music was blaring loud. I looked for what person was responsible and found a babysitter making out with a boy on the back porch.
I went to my little sisters room where they stood in their cribs sobbing from the noise and darkness. I flipped the light on and in an instant both sets of arms reached out to me. I held them both close and said, ‘I know. I know. It’ll be ok. I’ll take care of you.’
I was one enraged thirteen year old who walked to the basement laundry room to grab the three inch thick mop handle and I began cleaning house. Teenagers were running out the doors as I locked windows and doors behind me.
When I reached the kitchen I had everyone out and an angry babysitter threatening to beat me up once she got inside. Not today. Not today.
I told her that I’m pretty sure my parents didn’t plan on her having a blowout party when she was supposed to be taking care of my sisters. She reached out to grab me and I whacked her on the head. ‘Don’t you ever treat my sisters like that again, get off our porch!’ And I whacked her again.
I locked the door and went back to my sisters to take them out of the cribs and tended to their needs, wiping noses, changing pj’s and diapers, getting them ready for bed.
I am my sisters’ guardian from that day.
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mochiable · 3 years
Text
— enough. (a)
REQUESTED — hello!! i really like your work and how you write. could i request a scenario about han jisung cheating on reader and her forgiving him every time but then she can’t stay with him anymore and they have a big fight? sorry if it’s so specific, but i think you’d do a great work with this! i’ll understand if you don’t want to do it though, have a nice day!
wc: 1.7k
warnings: toxic relationship, mentions of cheating, swearing, emotional pain
requests are open!
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you were fed up. jisung kept shouting your name in the distance, but you didn't want to know any more, you didn't want to hear any more. you were tired of everyone taking you for a naïve fool who didn't realise what was going on around you. ‘poor thing, she has no idea he slept with five other girls’, ‘i feel so sorry for her, how come she's still with him?’ you didn't know, you really didn't know how you could still be with him. maybe they were all right, you were a sucker, but that was going to change, you weren't going to put up with any more humiliation, and much less coming from him.
as soon as you arrived at the flat you shared with your now ex-boyfriend, you locked yourself in your room and took your suitcase out of the wardrobe to start storing your most necessary belongings. you didn't know where you were going to go, you didn't want to bother anyone, but it was either that or sleep in the street or stay in a forty square metre flat with the person you least wanted to see right now. either of the first two options was better than the third one, anyways.
when you finished putting all your clothes away and headed to the bathroom to pick up your make-up and all your creams you heard the front door open loudly and as hurried footsteps followed by several curses headed towards the bedroom.
“what are you doing?” the dark-haired boy asked watching you from the bathroom door, looking through the mirror as you put all the products in your vanity case, hands trembling and clutching things tightly.
“dancing a tango, wanna be my partner?” you replied sarcastically, taking all the courage you had left and turning around to face him, “what the fuck do you think I'm doing, jisung? i’m leaving,” you spat angrily, moving towards the door and bumping your shoulder against his to walk back into the room.
“no, no, no,” he repeated, shaking his head repeatedly as he moved closer to you and tried to get your attention, “listen to me, please listen to me," he pleaded, reaching up to you and turning your face to his with his hands on your cheeks, “it’s not what it looks like, i swear.”
“isn't it? let me guess," you began, bringing your hands up to his and roughly pulling them away from your face, “was it her who kissed you? or maybe, oh, i know, you drank too much and couldn't control yourself?” you roared angrily, pushing him hard in the chest, pushing him two metres away from you, “fuck you, jisung! i’ve had it. you've done nothing but humiliate and despise me. fuck, why can't you take me seriously for once? am i a joke to you, huh? is that it? do you think i’m so deluded as to cheat on me not just once but five times? do you enjoy watching me being mocked and laughed at behind my back? ‘oh poor girl, her boyfriend cheats on her and she keeps chasing after him like an idiot because she can't stand on her own two feet’!”
at first, your age difference was the reason for thousands of messages and threats directed at you. you were only three years older than him, and he was already an adult, you didn't see the problem, you both loved each other, or so you thought. the comments soon went from ‘old predator whore’ to ‘dumb slutty little girl’. you had to put up with how they came on to your boyfriend, and how he did nothing, smiled and even flirted back. however, when a boy came up to you, he seemed to wake up and didn't hesitate to shoo him away.
“no, that's not true. please, y/n,” he came back to you with a desperate expression on his face, managing to cradle your cheeks again and wipe away the tears you hadn't realised were falling from your eyes, “of course i take you seriously, darling. you're my everything. they're lying, i swear, y/n. i’d never do that to you, you have to believe me.”
you pushed him away from you again, and ran your hands through your hair, tousling it and burying your face in your hands. the moment you looked up again, you found your face reflected in the small mirror of the canterano in the room. a haggard, weak, sultry face. you dropped onto the bed, you were exhausted and you knew that this argument had only just begun.
“enough, enough,” you murmured, holding back the sob that was about to escape your throat, “stop lying, just stop! you don't love me, jisung. you never have and you never will. why do you want to keep me here if all you do is make me suffer?”
“no, that’s not true. i do love you, y/n,” he replied softly, crouching down in front of you until his eyes were level with yours. he brought his hands to yours, but you pulled away and stood up again, laughing bitterly.
“you have a terrible way of loving then,” you said, turning around and reaching for your suitcase, but jisung was quicker and wouldn't let you.
“i’m not letting you leave, not without sorting this out,” he said resolutely, snatching the suitcase from you and setting it in a corner, “it’s after midnight, you're not going out at this hour.”
“so now you care? where were you all those times i had to come home alone in the middle of the night because my boyfriend preferred to cheat on me with someone else?” you asked, moving forward again to grab the suitcase, but he got in the way and grabbed your arm, pulling you away from your things. you tried to pull away, but you knew he wasn't going to let go until you two fixed this, so you decided to continue, “you don't have to worry, there's no one out there who's going to hurt me more than you. you can stay calm.”
“tomorrow you can leave if you want, but tonight you're staying, okay? i can't let you leave at this hour, i’m not gonna let you," the grip on your arm was beginning to intensify, but he released you immediately when he saw the expression of discomfort on your face. he unhesitatingly wrapped you in an embrace and pressed you against his body, stroking your hair and resting his head on top of yours, “please stay, love. stay with me tonight.”
“how many others have you told this to? huh? how many others have you told to stay the night with you?” you asked between whimpers against his chest, clutching the sides of his t-shirt tightly in helplessness, “you treat me like shit, you cheat on me, you humiliate me and then you have the balls to tell me you love me.”
jisung, seeing that his words were having the opposite effect to the one they were intended to have, lifted your face and brought it close to his. he brushed your noses in a gentle but subtle gesture and, caressing the lower part of your eyes, he leaned towards you until your lips made contact.
however, the butterflies in your belly that you once wished would never disappear had, indeed, died. none of them was left. because jisung, with his lies and deceit, had killed them off one by one. until the last one that had remained until tonight couldn’t stand it anymore and vanished just like her sisters, leaving an empty hole in your stomach that resembled the one you had in your heart.
still wide-eyed, you brought your hands to his, which rested on your cheeks, and lowered them. jisung gradually broke the contact of your lips, until finally he rested his forehead on yours and let out an agitated sigh.
“you’re staying, right?” he asked once he’d pulled away from your face, looking at you with sympathetic eyes. but you no longer believed anything, you no longer trusted him.
“what would i gain by staying, jisung? i can’t stand any more humiliation,” you answered with a broken voice, trying with all your might he wouldn’t see you cry again. you hated showing weakness in front of him at times like this. you felt that if you did, he’d won again and you were tired of losing.
“please, y/n, please. you can't do this to me,” he growled desperately when you pulled away from him and went to pick up your suitcase. he tried to catch you when he saw you walking towards the door, but you turned and raised your hand, putting it in front of his face and telling him to shut up.
“i can't do this to you? i’m not the one who sent our relationship to hell, jisung. you decided to flirt with other girls, you decided to make out with them and you alone decided to fuck them. you’re the only son of a bitch here, and i’m not going to put up with you treating me like rubbish anymore,” you finished, taking the keys off your key ring and leaving on the front porch the one that opened the flat that was no longer yours. then, you turned to him and started to memorize all the details of his face, before saying your last goodbye, “have a nice life, han jisung.”
you left that apartment putting an end not only to a relationship, but to a lifestyle that had been destroying you for months. you didn’t know how you were going to overcome everything that had happened, but what you were sure about was that you weren’t going to go back and, evidently, you weren’t going to let anyone else treat you as if you weren’t a human being.
jisung’s punishment would be to wake up and remember everything he had and everything he could have continued to have if he hadn’t screwed everything up. now, when he got home he’d only find a cold and empty apartment. but that didn’t compare to how you’d felt during the last months of your relationship, and now it was his turn to feel the worst that can come from a toxic relationship, helplessness and resentment.
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redinkrain · 3 years
Text
Say something.
2.
True to her words, Abigael Jameson-Caine arrived on the porch of the Vera-Vaughn-Greenwood Manor an hour later in a dark cloud. Being here seemed so estranged and yet familiar and safe to the British Lady; an opposite feeling to the one she had when she had to go back to that awful place in Sussex she was once obliged to call home when she was a little girl.
She took a deep breath and exhaled, a tiny bit apprehensive of how things might turn out with the Charmed Ones of course but especially with Mel. Closing her eyes to regain composure, she knocked three times at the hardwood door. When the door opened, the sister behind it wasn’t the one Abigael expected. There, stood Perky Princess -apologies-Maggie with exhaustion marking her features like the half-demon half-witch never saw on the Charmed One before. But when Maggie registered who had knocked on their door, her eyes lightened up just long enough for Abigael to catch it.
“Abby? What are you doing here? Is there a situation? Please tell me it’s not about demons! We’ve got our hands full in it already. Is this about some sort of demon overthrowing another one?” the younger sister asked in a straw of panic.
The ex-Demon Overlord frowned at that, but then thought that Macy’s phone-call was an hour ago and that in this short period maybe she had not found the time to warn her sister.
“Good evening to you too Miss Babbler. I am here because I’ve got a call from your sister silently asking for my help. So breathe.” The older woman let out a little bit annoyed.
“Mel called you?” Maggie questioned suspiciously.
“Your other sister actually.” Abby corrected.
“What? Macy? Really?” the witch seemed skeptic.
And like magic Macy appeared behind her sister.
“Yes, I called her. It’s an emergency at this point.” The eldest sister said. “Hi Abby! Please, come in! Thanks for coming.”
“Well of course! Anything I can do to help, even though I am not quite sure of how I can provide any sort of assistance in this matter.” Neither if Mel wanted to see her.
“Look, like I said on the phone, Mel’s not herself since she had to send Eva back to her time. It’s like she put her pain in demons hunting and declare an open season on them. Not that we’re not okay with vanquishing evil demons, but she keeps going after them and her reckless behavior puts her in danger constantly. So can you please try to talk some sense into her?” Macy desperate tone had said enough.
“Are we serious about asking her that?” Maggie tried to murmur to her sister, but Abigael heard it anyway. She felt a bit hurt that after everything the witch still had doubts about her intentions regarding Mel.
Macy observed their guest a few seconds before saying loud enough for the two women with her to hear.
“We are serious about it Mags. Abby only has Mel’s best interests at heart.” She then look the British Lady with that same expression Waverly had just after saying to her you do love her, Abigael.
Quite honestly Abby never thought she would witness this kind of acceptance from one of Mel’s sisters, especially not Macy. At a lost of words, she didn’t said anything to confirm what the eldest sister just affirmed. She didn’t needed to anyway.
“Speaking of Melanie, where is she?” Abby asked.
“At the Command Center.” Maggie stated.
“Come on, I’ll give you a ride!” Macy told Abigael while taking her jacket.
The drive to Safe Space went alright, there wasn’t any hurtful comment nor judgment from both parties. Macy parked the car and guided Abby to the entrance then gave her an encouraging smile before leaving.
The ex-Demon Overlord might always have been a step ahead in a lot of matters but here? Right now? With Mel? She was clueless. All of this went on so suddenly, she hadn’t had time to think in what kind of state of mind exactly the Charmed One was neither had she time to think of what she could possibly say to her. And who was she to try to talk some sense into her anyway?
She observed from the upper level, Mel was reading an old book from the armchair. Ever the perfect picture. She reminded her of that painting by Karen Whitworth except the witch looked devastated and her sobs didn’t helped. Abigael gathered her thoughts and went for the stairs.
Her steps were quiet as if she hoped that her friend wouldn’t even notice she was there. She stopped a few steps from the Vera sister who had her back to her and was crying in silence while wiping her tears as best as she could.
“Mel.” Abby simply pronounced with nothing but softness.
No response from the witch. The half-demon half-witch took the few remaining steps and reached the armchair where Mel sat. Carefully, like she was afraid of breaking a piece of glass, Abigael put her hand on one of Mel’s shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. The witch froze then turned around slowly. Her expression was soft but her eyes, oh God, they reflected so much pain, so much sadness to witness. But Abby didn’t missed the little spark that found its way in those desperate eyes.
“Abby.” Mel murmured eyes filled with tears kept at bay before adding with the same intonation “Are you really here?”
Her heart broke at those words.
“Would you dream of me?” She asked back with so much tenderness that she didn’t even recognized her own voice. In any other circumstances she would have said something entirely different, a snarky remarks, a naughty comment even, but right now all she wanted to do was eased Mel’s wounds and turned them into scars.
Mel studied her friend’s features and with that same broken voice she answered Abby’s question.
“I do, sometimes.” she paused briefly “You always come to visit me at night when I have no tears left to cry. You just- you just lay down next to me on my bed and hold me. Always whispering to my hear that it’s okay not to be okay. But then in the morning you’re gone, like you were never there.” She played with her hands and Abby never saw the Vera sister so broken. “It’s the first time you come to visit me here. I must have fall asleep while reading.” Mel frowned thinking.
“You are not dreaming, Love. I do am here.” The ex-Demon Overlord murmured while placing her other hand on Mel’s face, caressing her cheek and wiping away a new tear that escaped on its own accord.
“You say that too sometimes, but then I close my eyes and when I open them... you vanished.” She swallowed down a sob.
“Close your eyes, Melanie.” Abigael said softly with that damn accent Mel missed so much. So she did closed her eyes. “Hear my voice.” the half-demon half-witch pursued “Just feel my touch on your skin.” stroking the witch jaw. “I won’t disappear. I promise.”
Mel stayed still, refusing to open her eyes and to have to let go of her friend.
“Open your eyes, Love. I will be here with you.” Murmuring into the witch’s left ear.
The Vera sister opened her eyes and was surprised to see Abigael still standing in front of her.
“You’re really here?” Mel asked anyway.
“I did promised you I would, didn’t I?” The British Lady simply stated.
“You sure? I’m not dreaming?” the witch seemed still a little unconvinced.
“Certainly not, Love.”
And with that simple answer, Mel rose and put her arms around Abby’s neck and breathed for the first time since Eva’s departure.
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lumosinlove · 3 years
Text
PREVIOUSLY ON RELIC KEEL
Dorcas meets up with Marlene at Marlene’s house and Luke is there—we figure out Marlene and Luke are cousins. Luke, as it turns out, has a neglecting mother (as well as a father who has been taken to jail, Marlene’s father doesn’t want her dating Dorcas because she’s from Salazar, and Marlene still hasn’t told Dorcas that she got into college.
Saint goes to wait for Logan at The Carrows in Salazar, where he restocks his Crucio supply.
Lily and James are painting one of the Potter’s old boats together. Lily is confused and frustrated—and in love with James. James, already hurt and trying not to cause himself further harm but also not wanting to lose Lily entirely, lets Lily kiss him but ends it there. They’re both nervous about college.
Instead of Logan, Saint runs into Luke first, who, as a last resort, is going to the Carrows for Crucio. Luke seems to have some surprises up his sleeve—a love for books that Saint shares, perhaps. When Saint does spot Logan, he makes Luke get into his car so as to not alarm him, and steals his dad’s gold watch in the process.
When Saint goes to fetch Logan, they run into Amycus Carrow, who tells Saint that Logan owes them for using their stash of Crucio without paying—but they won’t tell Saint or Logan how much Logan owes.
As a result, Logan gets it into his head that he can pay off his debt if he finds the treasure of The Voldemort, the one that Leo’s dad died looking for. Logan tries to get Saint to help by asking what he wants most, and when that doesn’t work, asking what he hates. Perhaps Saint is one for revenge, rather than need.
Sirius and Dorcas finally get Saint talking about Logan and his time at Saint Clair. Saint reveals that there were harsh punishments for bad behavior in Saint Clair. He also reveals that, for reasons he can only guess at, when kids turn 18, the age at which they could leave the orphanage, they decide to stay. Saint believes Crucio has something to do with it. He has memories of being extremely tired at night, and having vivid dreams—he doesn’t say what these dreams were about. Saint believes that many of the kids, if they arrived young enough, don’t know how to tell the difference between a Crucio-filled mind and a Crucio-free one. The scene ends with them receiving an invitation to a party at James’ house.
Logan finds Leo at his family’s workshop and says he wants to help him find The Voldemort. Leo wants to finish his father’s work, Logan needs the money—Saint shows up, seeming to have found his motivation, too, whatever it may be.
***CW: mentions of taking drugs and being drugged, brief mentions of blood, brief mention of death of a father***
part vi
In his dream, Finn was in a house. There was a woman sitting at the table, a man at the stove, and a boy leaning against the counter. Everything was murky at the edges, even their laughter.
Finn knew what family was. He’d read about it. He’d thought about it. With Logan, he’d felt it.
What he didn’t know, what he could never be sure of, was whether he’d seen it. What it looked like. What his looked like. Every time he thought he did…he’d wake up.
They had begun as pills—vitamins. But pills could be kept on the tongue.
Powder couldn’t be kept from food.
Finn, sweetheart, the woman said in his dream. How was school today? Is Logan still coming over for dinner?
Your boyfriend, the other boy teased, smiling. The man turned from the stove and laughed, reaching over to tussle Finn’s hair.
Yeah, Finn heard himself say. He is.
He looked at the woman—his mother, maybe—and she looked different than she had a moment ago.
We can play pick up, the brother said—but he wasn’t anymore. There was a sister, and now a brother again, now two brothers. And then his mother was at the stove and his father coming in from the yard, and then there was a younger sister sitting on his lap, and then he was the younger brother and his dad was coming home from work, briefcase in hand, closing the front door, giving his mother a kiss—
Finn woke up. His throat was dry and his eyes were, too. He used to wake up crying when he was younger. And Logan had been there, both of them not understanding.
Finn didn’t know if Logan understood now. Finn hadn’t figured it out until after he’d gotten Logan out, not entirely. Not about the Felix. Just about the kids that weren’t leaving. Something was keeping them here, and all he had wanted was to protect Logan and himself from that. Now that he knew that it was Felix that kept them here…Finn couldn’t see why they wanted it so bad. He didn’t want these false glimpses of family. He didn’t want Felix. He wanted Logan. Logan was real. His only comfort was that Logan was free of it. Of this place.
Finn blinked slowly up at the walls of the solitary room. His eyes were heavy. His head, his limbs. He hadn’t eaten anything in almost a week now.
And the dreams still came.
Maybe it wasn’t anything but his own head that was doing the imagining now.
He knew what was real, and this wasn’t it.
~
Luke looked across the deck at his mother in her lounge chair and pinched the Felix, within a small plastic bag within his pocket, to make it sift back and forth. A sound only he could hear. That, and the ice cubes in his mother’s whiskey. The sun was hot on his bare chest, drying the water droplets left from the pool quickly. He couldn’t stop rubbing the place where his father’s watch had been. Just thinking about it, about Saint and his quick fingers, made him snarl.
His mother’s ice cubes rattled.
“I want to start going through your father’s things,” she said airily from beneath her floppy sun hat. “There’s just so much of it. His papers, and all those fat books he has. God, that stupid treasure obsession.”
“It wasn’t stupid,” Luke replied as evenly as he could. “And he’s not dead. He’s coming back.”
His mother laughed. “Oh, sweetheart.”
She had cut her hair very short after Luke’s dad had been taken away. Luke couldn’t get the images out of his mind. Her, walking back through the door the next day, with her long blonde hair cut to her chin, curling just beneath her jaw. She had smiled at him and given her head a shake. Like it, mon lumière?
My light, she called him. When he was little she’d kissed him goodnight with that nickname every day, turning on the small nightlight that he kept—he still kept it. He’d tried not to, but every time, every night, the dark was just too dark. He was almost mad at her for giving it to him in the first place. If he had just gotten used to the dark…maybe he would be more prepared now.
Since his father, she’d been moving about the house like nothing had changed. Or, rather, like something had changed, and she was all the better for it.
His father’s leather chairs were gone from the living room, replaced by two baby blue couches that made Luke sick to look at. The pirate ship wheel was gone from the wall, too.
Luke didn’t know this mother.
Not even the island knew this woman. They knew the bake-sale-bringing, strict-rule-making, no-nonsense-grounding mother that Luke had known his entire life. He’d spent so many nights furious in his room after she’d caught him sneaking out or drinking.
And now, here his mother was, offering him a glass of whiskey at eleven in the morning.
Luke pinched the Felix between his fingers more harshly.
“No, thanks,” he said, and squinted back out towards the ocean.
“If you’re sure,” his mother said. “Well, I just said so because I’m tired of looking at it all.”
“Don’t get rid of it,” Luke said, trying to keep the pleading out of his voice. “I like his office. Mom, it reminds me of him.”
Luke had spent hours in there, laughing with his father, talking about history and literature, sneaking the rare puff on his cigar.
Then, they had taken him away, and his mother had gotten a hair cut, and suddenly Luke didn’t know anything anymore.
“Excuse me,” Luke mumbled, and left his mother in the sun with her drink and the pills that were no doubt already within. She was getting high more than he ever had now.
Luke could barely see anything inside the house after the bright day outside, but he didn’t need to see. He could have found his father’s study, and everything in it, blind.
He was still damp when he sunk down shakily into his father’s desk chair, the plush leather smelling of cigars, and took the bag of pinkish powder out of his pocket.
Just to see him again.
Just for something else to have happened.
Just not this.
~
Remus met Sirius in James’ kitchen again. The large glass doors were flung wide, opening out onto the porch and the pool beyond where a projector and screen were set up, along with chairs and blankets. Lily had set out the floating lanterns that the Potters put in the pool during their dinner parties and they floated idly back and forth in the evening breeze, giving out a soft yellow glow to mix with the dusky blue that came in from the ocean. The palm trees leaned over the house’s surrounding gate, swaying.
The counter between Remus and Sirius was covered in food. Pizza and nachos from Thomas’ family’s restaurant, chocolate chip cookies, chips and salsa, sodas and liquor.
“If you’re gonna do it, do it in the house,” Mrs. Potter always said.
Sirius looked the same, but fresh out of the ocean. His dark hair was damp, dripping onto the collar of his faded t-shirt. He looked like the ocean had the same effect on him as it did on Remus. Sirius’ eyes looked brighter. His shoulders looked more relaxed. He looked up from where he was pouring some whiskey into a cup and even managed an easier smile than usual.
“Hey,” Remus said, taking a paper plate from the stack. “How’s it going?”
Sirius’ eyes found his, then he looked down, stoppering the bottle. “Pretty good, you?”
“Pretty good,” Remus said, and then took a breath before testing the waters. “Had a nice sail this morning, clocked a shift at the museum, can’t complain.”
Sirius glanced up quickly, and Remus suppressed a smile as he loaded his plate.
“Oh,” Sirius began. “I mean, yeah, I saw.”
“You like sailing?”
Sirius nodded. “Kris lets me take one of his out sometimes.”
“Kris?” Remus questioned.
“Oh,” Sirius cleared his throat. Remus watched some of those ocean washed walls begin to go back up. “Yeah, he runs the boat rental shop over in Rowena. I guess you wouldn’t know given that you have…you know.”
Remus tried to side-step the awkward shift. Sirius seemed to have ideas about him already. Remus wished he had some clue about Sirius, beside his ocean-eyes and guarded expression.
“Well, that’s cool of him,” Remus said.
Sirius nodding from over the brim of his cup. “Yeah, it is.”
“Hey, well—” Remus shrugged. “I mean, I’m sure you do it on your own all the time but…you know if you ever wanted to…”
Sirius raised an eyebrow. Remus hadn’t finished his sentence.
“I mean, if you ever wanted to,” Remus began again, and was suddenly nervous. Sirius didn’t even like him. It looked as though he didn’t like Gods in general. He’d probably think this was charity. He’d probably hate Remus for offering. “Go out.”
Sirius’ eyebrow raised further.
“On my boat,” Remus said, all in a rush. His cheeks were hot. “Go sailing on—my boat.”
Remus didn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t for Sirius to do nothing at all. He stood there, frozen and off guard.
“Only if you want,” Remus said hopelessly. “I get up pretty early.”
“So do I,” Sirius said, and there was the slap of flip flops from behind Remus.
“Look who I found at the kid’s table,” Saint’s voice came, and he leaned on the counter beside Remus in his tank-top and shorts, taking a nacho off of his plate. “Hello, Remus Lupin. You’re looking flushed. Sirius, are you making him blush?”
“Um,” Sirius said.
Remus just shook his head and reached for a soda. He felt idiotic, and now more so, after being interrupted. He could hear the others talking and laughing over the movie and wished he was over there—wished he hadn’t tried to hit on Sirius Black, of all people. He didn’t know if Sirius liked men. He didn't even know Sirius.
“Re, Saint, Black, someone bring me back a drink!” Marlene’s voice came over the chatter. She was tangled with Dorcas on one of the blankets, leaning back into her chest.
“Why do you look like you’ve done something?” Sirius said, drawing Remus’ eyes back to him.
“Well, I haven’t yet,” Saint replied. “But just watch.” He leaned closer to Remus. “Fruit-Loop, I need you to get me into that museum of yours.”
Remus looked at him warily. “How do you know I work at the museum…”
“A friend,” Saint said.
Remus looked at the hand Saint was resting his chin on. He was fairly sure that was Luke’s father’s watch.
“Get you in?” he asked. “Why not just go?”
Saint looked at him like he was entirely put upon, like he couldn’t believe Remus hadn’t caught on yet. “Because I don’t think what I’m looking for is on the floor, as they say.”
“Saint,” Sirius said incredulously. “What…what?”
“Can you help?” Saint looked at Remus. “You know, I could just take it.”
“Let you take something from the museum?” Remus laughed. “No.”
“Fine,” Saint sighed and pushed up from the counter, taking Remus’ plate from him and beginning to walk away. “I was just giving you the option to make this a little easier.”
Remus stared after him, then looked at Sirius, who shook his head before Remus could even ask.
“No idea,” Sirius said.
~
Saint didn’t actually know that many movies.
The movie theater was fine, but old. Grimmauld didn’t have a TV. It definitely didn’t have a large projector screen and James’ laptop. There was dancing on the screen. The actors were some place warm. He didn’t recognize it.
Books, on the other hand. Books, he knew.
He spied Luke resting on his forearms, long legs stretched in front of him on a blanket near that back of their group, and smiled.
“Deveaux,” Saint said as he sat down, placing the plate between them. “Pleasure to see you again.”
Luke rolled his eyes. “Oh Jesus, who invited you.”
“The peace keeper named James Potter,” Saint replied. “Not sure what sort of peace he thinks there is to keep. I, for one, think he’s made it all up in his head.”
Luke grabbed Saint’s wrist, the gold of his watch beneath his rough palm.
“This is mine,” Luke said. “You little thief.”
“Is it?”
“Saint,” Luke’s eyes were dark in the dying light and flickering screen. “Give it back to me.”
“What will you give me?” Saint asked, and leaned in.
Luke snarled and let go. “I’m not bargaining for my watch. You stole it.”
“I steal a lot of things. Your mother has good taste, by the way. So does Mrs. Potter. Unlike some of these God mothers. Do you think they know their husbands buy them the fake stuff, and save the goods for their mistresses?”
“Fuck off.”
Saint broke part of a cookie off. “Those are your two favorite words.”
Luke just shook his head, his jaw tight and angry, eyes remaining on the screen. Saint chewed slowly.
“What’s this?” Saint asked, jerking his chin towards the screen.
He felt Luke look at him. “You don’t know?”
“I just asked, didn’t I?”
“What?” Luke scoffed. “It’s Mamma Mia. You’ve never seen this movie? Where the fuck have you been?”
Saint looked at him steadily.
“Right,” Luke nodded. “Fucked childhood, and all that.”
“That’s one way to look at it, thank you, tweedle.”
“What else haven’t you seen?”
Saint flicked the hand with the watch on it. “How the fuck should I know?”
Luke’s eyes followed the gold for a moment, and then he looked back out towards the others. Saint did, too, laughing softly. He could practically feel Luke trying to decide how to get the watch from his wrist.
“Irish wrist watch,” Saint whispered. “Irish wrist watch, Irish wrist watch…”
James was sitting with Lily. Marlene and Dorcas were to the side, dancing along to the music with Thomas. Sirius and Remus had followed him out of the house and were, to Saint’s surprise, sitting awkwardly beside each other. Sirius seemed to be asking about the movie, too, and Remus explaining it to him.
Fucking Gods, Saint thought as he looked around at the glowing pool, the mountain of food in the kitchen. Fucking Gods and all their careless lives.
He wondered if maybe he should have brought Leo along, if his sob story about his dad might have gotten Remus to help.
Remus works at the museum, Leo had said. Me and Logan heard him say, him and Layla—her family owns it. If there’s any chance of seeing another copy of that map, it’s the History Museum.
“I’ve never seen you be quiet for this long,” Luke’s voice interrupted.
“You’re the one who ruined it.”
Luke reached between them for the plate and plucked up the other half of Saint’s cookie. “I was just saying.”
“I’ve never seen you not glower for this long—oh, there it is.”
“Give me my watch back.”
“For what?”
Luke paused, then said, “Books.”
That made Saint look at him. Luke’s eyes were on Saint’s wrist, but Saint remembered him in the car, reading James’ copy of Shelley. Saint felt stormy again, a familiar building in his chest that always simmered.
“Excuse me?”
“Give me my watch and I’ll give you—”
“So, you are bargaining.”
“You seem to like hand-outs,” Luke bit back. “You take books from James, don’t you? Not to mention this,” Luke shifted towards Saint. “You take a lot of things from people you claim to hate.”
“Ouch,” Saint said, and it really had hurt. Waste of space. He smiled.
“I can do you better,” Luke said. “Tell me what you want.”
“You mean your daddy could?”
Luke’s expression went cold all over. Lightning, over the strike of green in his right eye, nestled among the deep brown. “What’s his is mine now.”
Saint wondered if Luke had Crucio in his system right now. He didn’t have the tired look of it. Come to think of it, Luke never had that look, not like Logan did. He must take it at night, Saint thought. To sleep, maybe. Some people used it like that. Some people thought it let them control their dreams.
Saint didn’t think anyone could control their dreams, their wants and wishes—waking or asleep. Even if they wanted to.
“Was this his, too?” Saint looked at the watch face.
“God, just—” Luke broke off, shoulders tense, and rubbed his eyes. “What the fuck do you want? Money? Just tell me and give it back.”
Saint checked the time, then looked back at Luke.
“One-thirty. My bedtime. And I don’t need shit from you,” Saint said breezily, and patted Luke’s thigh before pushing himself up from the blanket.
“Saint,” he heard Sirius say faintly, but nothing from Luke, and he kept walking through the Potter’s house.
~
Sirius was almost angry at Saint. Or, maybe, he was angry at himself for wanting to stay at the Potters. He knew why he had been invited, why James had wrapped an arm around him, told him to help himself to the food, why Remus had talked to him, sat beside him, offered…well, he wasn’t sure what Remus had offered.
Pity.
At least, he thought he knew.
Though talking to Remus had felt far from pity. Remus laughed with his eyes squeezed shut, and it had taken Sirius off guard each and every time. He was angry at Remus Lupin. He was angry at him for his words when they were eleven.
Are you okay? Sirius, right?
As if he didn’t know Sirius’ name, and of course Sirius wasn’t okay.
But now Remus Lupin was talking about his boat, and this movie, whatever it was, that Sirius had never seen, and smiling at him as though he’d done nothing wrong.
Or, at least he had been, before Sirius had followed a blank-faced Saint out of the house.
“What are you doing?” Sirius asked Saint’s retreating back as they jogged down the steps to the driveway.
Saint had merely held up something that jingled over his shoulder. The car keys glinted as much as the watch on his wrist which Sirius knew wasn’t his own.
“Taking Luke’s car.”
“Saint, come on,” Sirius sighed. “I mean—that looked pretty fucking civil. Non?”
Saint turned on him. “Oh, yes, and you could hear every word? Non.” Saint kicked one of the tires. “Fuck the Gods, and fuck their shiny cars, too.”
Sirius shook his head. “What’s this—museum stuff? What’s going on? Saint, just talk to me—”
“You took Lupin’s side,” Saint breezed as he chirped Luke’s car. “You don’t get to know.”
That stopped Sirius in his tracks. He took a step back. “Since when do we do that?”
Saint slammed the door, sitting in the driver seat.
“Not tell each other things?” Sirius pushed forward. “Since when?”
Sirius watched him through the rolled down window as he ran his hands over the dark leather of the seats, the shiny black of the dash.
“There’s a lot you don’t know,” Saint said softly. “There’s a lot I don’t know.”
“What do you want from the museum?” Sirius tried again. “Is this about…Saint Clair? Logan? Ever since he showed up—”
“Orphan!” came from the house just moments before the front door blew open. Luke zeroed in on Saint behind the wheel instantly, sandy hair casting shadows over his forehead and eyes. “What the fuck is up with you and taking my shit?”
“See you at home, sweetheart,” Saint said to Sirius, and started the car. Luke brushed past Sirius and tugged fruitlessly on the locked door.
“Hey,” Luke only just managed to bang on the back window as Saint screeched out of the Potter’s drive. “Saint!”
Sirius watched as Luke stood there in the humid night, watching his own taillights disappear. He cursed again, running a hand through his hair, and then turned.
Luke looked at Sirius. They stayed a few feet apart in the driveway.
“Do you know where he’s going?” Luke asked, breathing heavily.
Sirius did not like Luke Deveaux.
“No,” he said, and turned back into the house to find Remus.
~
Leo looked over at Logan. They were sitting on the curb outside The Lion, waiting for word from Saint, and Logan was quiet. Not that Logan wasn’t usually quiet, but this felt different. He was picking at an old scab on his knee, taking his hat off and putting it back on again.
“Are you okay?” Leo asked, and Logan didn’t look up when he nodded.
“Is it,” Leo hesitated. “Finn?”
That snapped Logan’s head up. “How did you…”
“You said his name to me,” Leo said softly. “The first night we met. You were…” but Leo didn’t really know the word. High? Hallucinating?
“I know what I was,” Logan sighed.
“Do you want to talk about him?” Leo asked. “I mean, you don’t have to I just…I know it helps to talk about my dad sometimes.”
“Finn isn’t dead,” Logan said harshly. He took his hat off, pushing his hair back, and put it back on again.
“I know,” Leo said. “I know, I just meant—never mind.”
Leo, in a way that Logan would probably hate him for, was dying to know more about Saint Clair. Saint had been around long enough that Leo sometimes lost track of the fact that he’d escaped. Others were around the island, doing work and looking normal enough that Leo could forget about them, too.
But he couldn’t forget Logan. Logan, who was tortured and rough and missing someone in a way that Leo could feel, that Leo could recognize.
Beautiful, with his green eyes and rare smiles, that Leo knew he should steer well away from. Because Finn. Finn sounded like—
“He’s my—” Logan began, then shook his head. “I don’t know what to say. Boyfriend sounds—small.” Logan shifted, looking at Leo. “He’s all I have. He’s all I’ve had for a long time. Since I can remember. My entire life.” Logan ran a hand over his face, and when it came away, he looked exhausted. “I’m just repeating myself, but do you get it?”
“Yes,” Leo said. “I get it.”
“And now he’s—and I’m out here, and…”
“And you want to get him out, too,” Leo finished for him. Logan looked stricken.
“He got me out,” he said softly. “When it came down to it, he chose me. But I didn’t have time to choose him. It was all over so fast.”
Leo rubbed the colorful bracelet on his wrist. Boyfriend. “And when you say you’re looking for him…Waiting for him…”
“I know where he is,” Logan said. “And the waiting part was a lie. I’d be stupid to wait. I need to get him. He—“ Logan swallowed. “There’s a courtyard. Where I can usually see him. But he hasn’t been there.”
Leo watched Logan’s throat bob again. He was picking at his nail beds, at the scab. Leo lay his palm over his restless fingers, and Logan looked up, eyes bright.
“He needs my help.”
“Okay,” Leo nodded. “Okay.”
“Lovers on the wharf,” came a voice, accompanied by thumping music. Saint pulled up in a sleek looking car—that definitely wasn’t his own. He leaned out the window, grinning. “Deveaux has terrible taste in music.”
“You stole this car,” Leo said dryly. “Didn’t you.”
“Yes I did, Knut. Yes, I did.”
“Let's go,” Logan said. He sniffed and picked up his backpack.
“Who’s got shot gun?” Saint asked.
~
Remus stopped in front of the gallery heading that read Madness On Hogwarts.
He hadn’t asked his mother about it yet. He wasn’t even sure how to ask. But, there it was. The name Lupin was there. He didn’t have to look far. It was there, telling about the slow demise of the mind.
Part of Remus had always wondered when his own would begin.
Another part of him felt like it already had.
He was, after all, standing beside Sirius Black on the dark museum floor, looking for a rogue orphan from Saint Clair.
“It seems pretty quiet, to me,” Remus said. “You really think he came here tonight?”
“He stole Luke’s car, didn’t he?”
Remus snorted. “Yeah, but…”
“So, that’s very get-away-ish of him. I mean he blamed it on hating Gods but—“
Sirius cut off, swallowing, realizing what he said.
“It’s okay,” Remus said and smiled a little. “I…it’s okay.”
Sirius cleared his throat. “It’s just that ours doesn’t always start up.”
Remus’ tried to ease the tension. “Get-away-ish?”
Sirius just shrugged and ducked his head, but Remus thought he was maybe smiling, too.
“Why didn’t you tell James where we were going?” Sirius asked instead, shining his flashlight over a model of a great merchant ship, its sails molded to seem like they were filled with wind. Remus could practically feel it.
It was Remus’ turn to duck as they walked around the exhibits, listening. “James Potter and sneaking anywhere? I don’t know about that.”
Sirius did laugh this time, and he looked almost surprised with it. “I guess you’re right.”
“Besides, he and Lily looked cozy.”
Sirius nodded. “Yeah, that’s been almost happening ever since I can remember.”
“Right,” Remus laughed. For a moment it felt like they did know each other. As though they had been going to school together since they were little. As though Sirius hadn’t left school one day and never returned.
“Can I…ask you something?” Remus said hesitantly.
Sirius made a non-committal sound, and Remus figured that was as good as he was going to get.
“When you left school,” Remus began, then hesitated. “Well, I guess I mean, how? Didn’t your parents…or the police, even…”
“My parents don’t want a son like me,” Sirius replied easily. “As far as the law goes…I’ve never been bothered. I assumed they told the Academy I was being homeschooled. When I say someone like me, I guess I mean they don't want anything to ruin their reputation.” Sirius sighed. “Whatever that may be. Otherwise, I don’t know.”
“But you weren’t homeschooled,” Remus said. “You’re in The Hollow?”
Sirius’ smile was a little challenging. “Surfing every morning. Hanging out with my friends every night. I get work where I can, but I don’t need much.”
Remus nodded. “I guess that doesn’t sound too bad. I guess you’re not going to college, then.”
“That stuff isn’t for everyone,” Sirius replied.
“Oh,” Remus began. “No, I wasn’t, like, judging, I was just—”
That was when they heard a thump and a curse. They jolted, looking at each other.
“The archives,” Remus whispered.
“He did say it wasn’t on the floor.”
Remus took off towards the back rooms, Sirius on his heels. He fumbled with his keys for a moment, then shoved the correct one into the lock and pushed the door open.
“Saint,” Sirius panted.
Remus looked from the pried open window, to the boy peaking his head through the glass—Logan, he remembered—and then, finally, to Saint, crouched on the floor and pulling flat drawers open, one after another.
Saint just looked over his shoulder at them, flashlight between his teeth, then back to the file drawer he was rummaging through.
“If you were hoping to catch me, maybe don’t leave your big flashy car out front, Lupin.”
Remus narrowed his eyes. He hadn’t even thought of the car.
“Look, I can’t let you steal something,” Remus said.
Saint scoffed. “Look, if it means that much to you, I’ll put it right back, we just need to look at it.”
Logan dropped in through the window, then, hissing as he cut his forearm on what looked like a stray nail. He looked up, seemingly mindless of the blood dripping near his fingers.
“We’ll just take a picture,” Logan said. “I promise.”
“Who says I’ll let you?” Remus said.
“Because I’m limber like that,” Saint said. “I can get in and out of here, and I can certainly slip through your sailor hands.”
“Yeah, is that something you worry about?” Sirius said, and Saint’s head snapped towards him. The light fell over Sirius’ face. “Being able to make the escape?”
Remus thought the words sounded menacing, at least he thought Saint thought that, but Sirius’ expression was softer. Worried, even.
“Very funny,” Saint finally replied, and his smile had a bite to it around the light. “Ha, ha.”
Saint Clair, Remus realized. Sirius was talking about Saint Clair. He looked at Logan again. Logan was watching Saint almost eagerly.
“What are you even looking for?” Remus asked.
There was a grunt as a third boy piled in—Leo, from The Lion.
“Leo?” Sirius said, looking between the three of them. “Jesus, Saint, what’s going on?”
“We’re looking for something,” Saint’s words were marred by the metal between his teeth. “Merde, aren’t you listening?”
“I told you no,” Remus said.
Saint pulled open another drawer. “And I told me yes.”
Remus and Sirius looked at each other. Remus shook his head, at a loss, and Sirius sighed.
“At least tell us what it is,” Sirius said, and went to crouch beside Saint.
Remus watched as Sirius put a hand on his back, low and firm. It was a familiar and comfortable gesture, and Remus thought Saint maybe pushed into it a little.
Remus tilted his head, looking at the soft splay of Sirius’ fingers.
“A map,” Leo said, and Saint all but hissed at him. “What? We’re not taking anything. I don’t even know why we broke in, really, we should have just asked—”
Saint took the light from his mouth. “I’m nothing if not a showboat.”
“Anything?” Logan asked, peering closer to what Saint was looking at. Saint had two papers in his hands, but he tossed them down roughly—too roughly for Remus’ liking.
Saint ignored Logan with a long sigh, and turned to Remus, bumping one of the flat drawers closed with a hip. “We are in need of a treasure map, Lupin.”
Remus blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t tell me the mad-house you grew up in didn’t have tales of The Voldemort.”
Remus felt his blood spike, heat draping itself around his neck. “Don’t fucking—”
“What Saint means,” Leo stepped forward, eyes apologetic. “I…my dad was looking for it. He was close and…and he’s—Saint and Logan agreed to help me find it. I didn’t know we’d be doing this. They know how much it means to me—”
“If your dad’s close to finding it, why not just use his map?” Remus asked.
Leo glanced up at him, then down at the drawers. “It went down with him and his boat.”
“Oh,” Remus stuttered out. “I…”
Leo just shook his head. “I remember what it looks like. I’ll know it when I see it.”
Saint waved his hand, and Remus noticed Luke’s watch again. “What’s it going to say, Knut, the ancient treasure lies here?”
“It’s not to The Voldemort,” Leo said. “It’s to a trading post, a stop point just off of Hogwarts. In the Cradle. People thought that it might have been a sort of cover operation, that maybe someone found the gold and was using it as a way to smuggle it out unnoticed—”
“So, it’s not even there?” Logan asked.
Leo splayed his hands helplessly. “I don’t know!”
Remus looked at Sirius when he laughed. “You’re kidding.” Sirius knocked Saint’s shoulder. “You’re looking for the fucking Voldemort? Since when?”
“You’re the one who wants to leave this island,” Saint said lowly. “To do that you’ll need money.”
Sirius’ expression changed in the dim light. The moon was high now, and he looked silver and shadowed—and surprised.
“What?” Sirius said faintly. Saint wouldn’t meet his eye. “But you don’t want—”
Logan stepped forward, eyes still on Remus. “Look. We’re not crazy. Leo wants this for his dad, and I—I need to help someone. I told you when we met, didn’t I?”
“You said you were looking for someone,” Remus replied.
Logan nodded quickly.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Saint said and rose, turning to Logan and pointing the light towards his chest like an accusing finger. “Hold every single one of your horses. This is not about Saint Clair, and this is not about Finn. This is about your stupidity and The Carrows.”
“No,” Logan said. “This is about getting Finn out.”
“The Carrows,” Leo repeated, looking at Logan. Logan glanced at him, then rubbed a hand over his face.
“Then help me with Finn,” Logan said, louder this time. “I made a mistake with The Carrows, fine, but are you going to be my next one?”
“No,” Saint all but snarled back.
Logan shoved him, hard, sending Saint crashing back against the files, making them rattle.
“Hey,” Sirius said lowly, and then he had a hand wrapped up in Logan’s shirt, pushing him back.
“Stop,” Remus said, putting his hands out. “Jesus, not here. Maybe you all don’t give a shit, but everything in here is old. It’s precious.” He turned to Leo. “A map, you said a map, just tell me so we can all leave.”
Leo bit his lip, gesturing towards the drawers. “These are labeled?”
Remus nodded and watched them all warily as Leo took the light from Logan and crouched to read the writing on the drawers.
Saint and Logan were still staring at each other. Remus could practically feel some unsaid words between them. Sirius had let Logan go, but Remus didn’t want to keep the three of them in this room together for much longer.
“Here,” Leo said suddenly, and the sound of one of the rattling drawers filled the room. “It’s—oh.”
“What?” Logan asked, shoving around Sirius’ body towards the drawer. Remus followed, glancing back once. Saint and Sirius had their heads close. Sirius had his hand on Saint’s neck, and they were talking softly but quickly to each other.
Remus looked away.
The label read, Cartography. C. 18th. Commerce Port, but in place of anything that the label suggested, was an index card with neat handwriting on it.
On loan: Victor Deveaux
“Deveaux,” Saint said, clucking his tongue. “Deveaux, Deveaux, Deveaux…”
“No,” Remus heard Leo breathe.
“That’s Luke’s dad,” Remus said. He stared at the name. “Oh. That’s…”
“What?” Logan asked. “What do you know?”
Remus shot him a look. He seemed even more on edge than a few moments ago.
“I’d sort of forgotten with everything. Everything that happened to Luke this past year, but,” Remus said. “Luke was always sort of obsessed with the treasure. Only because his dad was, though. When we got older, me and James sort of made fun of him for it, but when we were younger, Mr. Deveaux used to hide little trinkets or candy for us somewhere in the house, and then write out clues for us to work through.” Remus smiled at the memory. It was happy, and it was sad. It seemed like too long ago. “It was fun.”
“So, he has the map,” Logan said. “Can you take us there?”
“Can you relax, speed racer, thanks,” Saint snapped.
“We need the map,” Logan barked back.
“It’s almost three in the morning,” Remus said.
“All the better,” Saint replied and closed the window they had come through before opening the museum door.
“Can’t this wait until morning?”
“Luke won’t just hand it over,” Sirius offered.
Remus turned to him. “What do you care?”
“Saint cares.”
Remus blinked. Sirius was all walled up again, eyes silver.
“Lead the way, Sailor,” Saint said.
~
Luke’s house was large and pristine, but it looked abandoned somehow. Saint stared up at the white walls, the stone chimney that he couldn’t imagine ever got used. He wondered if it was as grand as the Potters’ house inside. It certainly looked that way, manicured and vast. But it lacked the warmth. It seemed to shift in the night wind.
“We can’t just knock,” Remus broke the silence.
“We should wait,” Leo said somewhat nervously.
“I’ve got this,” Saint replied, chin tilted up towards the large house’s windows. “Which one’s his?”
Remus laughed. “You’re not serious.”
“No, that’d be him,” Saint said, clapping Sirius on the back—who rolled his eyes. “Now, tell me.”
“What are you going to do, climb up the drain pipe?”
Saint shucked his flip flops into the grass. “Yes, sir.”
“You could fall,” Sirius warned.
Saint looked at the windows, set deep into the house’s frame. The rough painted sides and stray vine climbing the surface. He looked at the tilted roof. “I won’t. Now which room is his?”
Remus, behind Saint, was quiet for a long time. Saint kept his eyes forward, squeezing his hands into fists, and then letting them out again. His heart beat hard in his chest, as if remembering a memory his mind wouldn’t.
“He keeps a light on,” Remus finally sighed, and pointed. “That window there.”
The metal and stone were cold beneath Saint’s feet. The pipe was sturdy, but every time it creaked he could hear the others whisper from below. The higher Saint climbed, the more the wind picked up. He closed his eyes letting it push his hair off of his forehead. The summer night was humid, and the moon was high.
“Saint?” he heard Sirius whisper from below.
Saint didn’t respond, just kept climbing. That was how climbing worked. Maybe, if you were lucky, you could rest, but the real part was pushing through the aches and the fear.
What do you hate so much that you’re helping us? Logan had asked him in the car on their way to the museum, and Saint had said something silly, as he always did. He’d smiled. Logan hadn’t laughed, but anyone else would have.
Saint thought of Sirius’ hand, low on his back in the archives rooms.
But you don’t want to go, Sirius had been about to say when Saint told him why they needed the gold. But you don’t want to leave.
If they had been alone, Saint might have actually told him the truth.
But you do, he would have said. If there was anything that wouldn’t be wasteful, it was getting Sirius Black off of this island and away from his own, terrified self. Saint might be a waste, but Sirius wasn’t.
Saint reached the roof and crouched, breathing hard. He could see the light from Luke’s room below him, the slates of the slight, pointed arch above the window frame. It was a short drop. He made it soundlessly, glancing down at the dark shape of the others as he swung himself onto the wooden sill. He could see the source of the light now.
It was a small bulb, plugged in low on the wall by the bed. Simple and cheap, with some sort of picture lit up. A sea shell, Saint thought. It didn’t illuminate much, but Saint could see Luke’s face. He was turned towards the window, on his stomach with an arm beginning to fall over the side of the mattress. He was bare to his waist, where the sheets pooled along his lower back.
Saint pushed at the top of the window until it cracked enough for him to curl his fingers beneath the frame. Luke didn’t stir, not even when Saint let the humid night air meet the AC, and set his bare feet softly on the hardwood floor.
Saint still didn’t know if Luke was a snoop, but he certainly knew that he was.
The floor was stacked with books. They were shoved over to the sides of the walls, near the desk beside a tangle of laptop chords and phone chargers. The bedside table was littered with old water glasses and coffee mugs, clothes occupied more of the floor than the open closet. There were small, empty plastic bags littered throughout the room. Saint picked up one, looking at the few grains of remnants.
He let it flutter back to the floor.
Everyone needed to control something, or at least think they did. Saint, for one too many times since Logan arrived, let himself think about Saint Clair. They’d taken clarity from him. He didn’t know how The Voldemort would get him that back—maybe nothing would. It would certainly take Sirius away, the only constant.
But everyone needed to control something. Or at least think they did. If Saint was going to be alone, he wouldn’t let it sneak up on him. Not again.
Saint was as good at tricking himself as he was at tricking others. And he liked gold. Part of him liked Luke, too. Stubborn. Mean. Beautiful. That would never change.
Saint looked down at Luke’s sleeping form. He looked younger in his sleep. He was dreaming. Saint could tell, there was a flicker beneath his eyelids. The bruise on his cheek was slowly fading, but a faint purple still graced his cheek.
“Tricky bastard,” Saint said aloud, and Luke stirred, cracking an eye open.
There it was. The sleepy look of Crucio, the haze. The lack of will, or maybe the abundance of it.
“You,” Luke mumbled. “You’re…”
His eyes flickered over Saint’s shoulder. Saint wondered who he was seeing. Saint crouched beside him and stroked a hand through his hair. Luke leaned into it. A loved one, then.
Luke blinked at him, and his expression shifted. He scrambled backwards, cursing.
“Saint,” Luke said, blinking. Saint laughed. He sort of liked that Luke couldn’t tell if he was really there or not.
“Hello, tweedle,” Saint said, and held up Luke’s father’s watch. “I need something from you.”
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thatshithurted8 · 3 years
Text
Out Of Character
Summary: In which JJ and the Pogues are left confused as to why you ran off with Barry’s money, but their worry only increases when they find you in a brand new hot tub at John B’s. 
Hey! I have another idea for a Jj imagine. What if the reader and jj are dating and instead of jj in the hot tub scene it’s the reader because her mom is abusing her. Requested by: @joshy-obx
Word Count: 2.1k 
Warnings: Mention of physical/verbal abuse, panic attack and injuries. 
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Every member of the Pogues had their own respective roles, which made the group click so well. Kie was the mom of the group, always scolding the boys for doing something stupid while simultaneously giving out amazing advice. Pope was the smart and logical one, and despite him being the only one out of the group with a promising future he would do anything for his friends. John B was seemingly the leader of the five teenagers and he was known as being strong willed. He could get things done no matter what the risks were. JJ was the smart ass, but also the one who always got the group into trouble. No one could really relax around JJ as he was always causing trouble. And lastly there was you. Your role in the group was being the strong and optimistic one. When things got rough you were always the first one to look at the bright side, in fact none of the Pogues have ever seen you cry. 
So when you seemingly acted on pure impulse and adrenaline the rest of the Pogues were shocked and at a lack of words seeing you get defensive for stealing Barry’s money, causing you to ultimately run off with it. It wouldn’t be until later that night that they would understand the reasoning behind your actions. 
When you ran off naturally the Pogues searched for you since you were acting so out of character. However, JJ was the most worried. You two have been dating for the past year and have been friends for the last five. Over the years you and JJ have gotten extremely close so it alarmed him to see you act out. 
The four remaining Pogues plus Sarah all split up to look for you. Sarah and John B went together while Pope and Kie went off on their own as well. JJ went off by himself, making sure to check every spot he knew you would go to like where you guys went on your first date or where JJ would find you after you had a rough day at home and you needed to clear your head. Despite the groups efforts they couldn’t find you. 
Obviously JJ wasn’t going to give up on looking for you, but he hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning so he found himself walking up to the chateau. As he steps foot on the property the whole yard is illuminated by fairy lights strung throughout the trees. 
He furrows his eyebrows in confusion, none of that stuff was there when they left this morning. The blonde rounds the corner and his heart drops when he sees you sitting in a brand new hot tub. 
“Y/N?” He calls out while walking over to you, his hunger being completely forgotten. 
“Yoo I’ve been waiting for you to get here!” You exclaim as your eyes fall onto your boyfriends figure. 
“What is all this?” The blonde asks reaching the hot tub while looking around at his surroundings. 
“I decided to get something nice for my family for once.” You slur. JJ looks around the hot tub and notices beer cans in the cup holders and some were even floating in the warm water. 
“Y/N you can’t be serious right? You stole money from a drug dealer and spent it on a fucking hot tub! He’s going to kill you.” JJ stresses, but you simply roll your eyes. 
Just as JJ was about to open his mouth to give you another lecture your attention moves to find the sound of a car door being shut. A smile appears on your face when you see your best friends Kie and Pope start to walk over to you two after Kie locked the car. 
“Hey what’s up guys!” You exclaim raising your arms above your head like a referee calling a field goal. 
“What the hell Y/N?” Kie asks as her and Pope make it over to JJ’s side who had his arms crossed over his chest and a furrow deep in his brow. Pope and Kie looked at JJ confused, but he only answered with a shrug, he was out of the loop as much as they were.
“I was hoping you guys would be coming! Hey look at this.” You say pressing a few buttons causing a disco ball above you that none of the Pogues noticed before to start spinning and the jets in the hot tub to splash upwards. 
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion when your friends don’t look amazed by the cool features in front of them. With that being said you really wanted to impress them and have them join you so with a swig of your beer you start to press random buttons hoping something cool would happen. 
“What the hell did she do?” Pope asks turning to JJ. 
“I don’t know man it was like this when I got here.” 
Kiara turns around to try and convince you to get out of the hot tub so they can understand what the hell happened and why you seemingly had a breakdown, but the sound of the screen door opening and closing causes you all to look over at the chateau. Your younger brother and sister run down the steps of the porch and race each other to the hot tub. This only causes JJ, Pope and Kie to become even more confused. It was a known fact that you didn’t allow the two kids to be out this late. After all you’ve been practically raising them since you were ten. 
“Y/N our movie finished can we come in?” Your brother Braxton asks dipping his hand into the warm water while your sister, Moira gave you puppy dog eyes.  
“Of course!” You exclaim while giggling, causing your siblings to turn around and race back into the chateau giggling, to get changed into their bathing suits. 
“Uh Y/N shouldn’t they be in bed?” Kie asks once the rambunctious kids were back inside and out of ear shot. 
“Who cares? My mom and step dad don’t and my dad doesn’t either so why should I?”
“What do you mean your dad doesn’t care?” JJ asks, the last time he checked your dad was living on the main land with your step mom and you guys were welcome to stay with him when ever. 
You simply roll your eyes and take another gulp of beer before throwing the now empty can somewhere in the yard. “I was going to ship Brax and Mo off to see my dad.” You slur while saying your siblings nicknames. 
“But when I called him all I got was voice mail. He says that we can come and visit when ever, but he doesn’t mean it. He’s too happy with his new family and we’d just ruin everything.” You recall sitting back into the warmth and jets of the tub while allowing your legs to float up, your toes poking out of the water. 
“Who cares right? Now we have this sick hot tub!” 
“You could’ve still got them plane tickets!” JJ exclaims, Kie cutting him off right after, “Or you could’ve donated the money to literally any charity!” 
“Or even give Barry the money back, he’s going to kill us you guys!” Pope stresses looking at everyone in the group. 
Annoyed with your boyfriend’s and best friends critiques to your actions you stand up quickly, water falling off of your body. “Well I didn’t okay! I spent the money on something my friends - no something my family can enjoy so if you guys are going to keep on judging me and my fucking decisions then leave!” 
Chills run up JJ’s spine at your speech and how your torso looked when you finally stood up. Along your stomach, especially around your rib cage were dark bruises and a few cuts. As Kie and Pope realize the damage done to your body as well, the yard falls silent except for the sound of crickets and the hot tubs jets. 
“Y/N.” JJ says softly stepping closer to the edge of the hot tub. He was filled with anger, knowing exactly who did this to you, but all he wanted to do was comfort you the same way you do when he endures a beating. 
Neither you or JJ notice Kie and Pope scurrying to the chateau’s porch to bring Braxton and Moira back inside who just came back out, clad in their swim suits. 
“It’s fine J.” You say, tears welling up in your eyes. 
Your boyfriend kicks off his boots and socks before stepping into the hot tub, not caring that his cargo shorts and the contents in the pockets were now wet. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you towards your chest. Once your cheek makes contact with his shirt you let the emotions that you have held in for so long out. 
JJ knew your home life wasn’t ideal, but he didn’t know it was this bad. You have always been so strong. Even when he would meet you at your special spot in the boneyard when you were having a rough night you never even implied that you were getting physically abused. Yes, he knew your coked up mom and step dad were both verbally abusive which was still horrible he had no idea things have gotten physical. A part of JJ felt as if he let you down since he had no inkling as to what was happening to you when you were at home, causing a part of his heart to break especially knowing you have been there bandaging up his cuts and scrapes from his father while your own bruises and injuries were healing themselves. 
“I just wanted to be a good sister for once and get them out of there, but it didn’t work nothing ever works.” 
“Hey hey look at me.” JJ says pulling back and holding your face in his large hands. “You are a great sister to Braxton and Moira. Without you they would have nothing. You are the best thing that has happened to them and they love you so much.” 
You simply look into your boyfriends eyes with tears falling down your face. Seeing you like this made JJ’s heartache. “You know that right?” He asks to make sure since you didn’t look too convinced from what he said. 
In all honesty you knew how much your siblings valued and loved you, but life was tough. You never signed up to be Moira’s and Braxton’s primary caregiver, especially at such a young age. Nonetheless you had to do what you had to do, you had to play with the cards you were dealt. However, at this point you were so tired. So tired of playing mom, balancing school, searching for the gold and being the brunt of the physical and verbal abuse from your mom and step dad. You wanted to give up, but the way JJ looked at you made you realize that you couldn’t.
Nodding your head yes you let out another sob before pulling JJ closer to you. 
JJ walks out of his bedroom where you were currently sleeping, and he makes sure to close the door behind him quietly. He walks down the hallway into the living room where he found Kie, Pope, John B and Sarah. The rooms atmosphere felt tense as all the teenagers were concerned and worried for you. 
The blonde was successful in calming you down and getting you out of the hot tub after your emotional moment. He ran you a bath and bathed you while your body continued to tremor from the after shock of your panic attack. While he dried you off and bandaged your injuries John B and Sarah returned, confused as the other Pogues just an hour before. Kie explained to the couple what happened as Pope tiptoed out of John B’s room where Braxton and Moira were sleeping, he just got them to fall asleep. 
“How is she?” Sarah asks quietly, worry evident all over her face once she see’s JJ walk into the room. The rest of the Pogues look up at the blonde expectantly. 
“She’s as good as she can be right now.” JJ says quietly while walking over to the screen door where his boots were. The four teenagers watch him as he slips them on. 
“Where are you going?” John B asks.
“If Y/N wakes up tell her I’ll be back soon.” JJ says ignoring John B’s question before opening the door and walking down the steps of the front porch. 
JJ was going to make sure that your step dad and mom never laid a finger on you or your siblings ever again. 
Question of the day: What is your “role” in your friend group? 
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collecting-stories · 3 years
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Flowers on the Grave - c. 10 - JJ Maybank
Summary: Everything finally comes to a head. 
A/N: So...massive thanks for following this series all the way through to the end. Seriously, means so much to me cause I was so unsure of this when I started it. 
You Are Ok Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist
✞ I was on the verge of breaking down when you came around ✞
The phone rang, shrill in your ear, and you felt like a weight had settled on your chest as you waited for someone to answer.  
Timothy was talking about the same three things that he had overwhelmed you with at the Wreck. Getting his pilot’s license, becoming a missionary, and his strength in the Lord. When he said it you could almost feel your father’s gaze burning into you, your own strength barely a register on the scale. 
He had questioned you further the night before, after he had sent everyone home you had spent nearly the entire night sitting at the kitchen table with the two of them, demanding a repentance for your sins as you tried not to tell them everything that you had done to betray them. If they knew half of it...if only there were nunneries for Baptists. Your eyes had stayed on the clock, watching minutes turn to hours and knowing that JJ was waiting for you. That you wouldn’t make it.  
Now you sat in the living room, watching those same minutes tick away, an escape plan the only thing on your mind as you listened to all the voices around you mingling. All you could imagine was yourself with JJ in Charleston and you desperately wanted to be there, wished you could transport yourself there.  
You excused yourself from the couch beside Timothy, walking into the kitchen under the guise of needing something to drink. In actuality you just needed the moment to breathe. Everyone in the living room seemed fixated on the impending nuptials, regardless of the fact that Timothy had yet to propose to you. It didn’t seem to bother anyone, Timothy’s mom and your’s gushing about what sort of dress you would wear and your flowers. Every second spent with them felt like you were sinking further beneath the waves, unable to get your bearings, you imagined yourself drowning in all of this.  
You glanced over your shoulder to make sure no one was watching you before sneaking out the kitchen door, pulling it closed behind you so that it didn’t make any noise. The back patio had been cleaned off and all the kids were around the front of the house, playing between the church and the front porch.  
“Ace,” the familiar voice came from your left and you almost burst into tears at the sight of JJ stepping onto the patio, careful to stay out of view of the window.  
“JJ...I-”  
“It’s okay,” he said, cutting you off. His eyes looked bloodshot, more so than when he smoked too much and you realized that he looked like he had been crying. “It’s okay...I know your family is inside and all, I just wanted to stop by to, uh, to see you...” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.  
“What, I don’t-”
“I understand, I swear. I knew that you might not come, that wasn’t like...I get it.” He insisted.
“No, JJ...” you shook your head. Careful not to draw attention to yourself as you slipped passed the window to meet him at the edge of the patio, you placed your hands on either side of his face, heartbreaking at the way he turned his eyes away, “my parents found your vape pen in the house. I...my dad like freaked out on me, I’ve never seen him like that. I couldn’t come to see you, I wanted to, so badly...I still want to.” You swore. “I love you.”
The words processed a little slowly, giving you the opportunity to watch JJ’s face as realisation sunk in. You hadn’t left him waiting at the Phantom because you were choosing what your family wanted, you hadn’t been able to get there. “Seriously?”
“Yes, I swear. I told you I was coming and I was. I just-”
“Hey, it’s alright, I get it.” He promised. He knew how dependent on your family you felt. How dependent they made you feel.  
“Is it too late?” You asked, looking back to the screen door as if someone would walk through. The bruise on your arm was still there, stinging under the sleeve of your dress but somehow it didn’t feel as harsh as before, as much like a shackle as it had last night, “is it too late to leave?”
JJ looked surprised, “you still want to?”  
“Yes. But we have to go now.” You knew there was no way you could go back inside that house.
The renewed sense of optimism that gripped JJ was not without understanding that your window oy opportunity was limited. Leave now and you still had the chance to make it to Charleston before dark, wait and there was a chance someone would step outside and see you.  
“Okay.”
Your absence was becoming increasingly noticeable until finally your mother stood up, promising that she would be back in just a moment, she needed to find you first. “She has a tendency to wander off, probably playing with the children.” She explained as she walked into the kitchen, positive that she had just heard the screen door creak shut.  
Stepping out onto the porch, she looked quickly around the yard, a survey of the area within the trees, looking for you by the clothesline or the church or the old swings that had been set up nearly five children ago. You weren’t there though, the yard was empty. She pushed the door open again, walking back into the kitchen and catching sight of the refrigerator. A note, scrawled on the grocery pad that was kept by the door, had been tacked to the front of the fridge along with a delicate gold cross hanging from a chain.  
Mom + Dad,
Sorry, I told dad I wouldn’t marry Timmy and I meant it. Call you when I can.  
Ace
Your mother screamed so loud it was a wonder that you didn’t hear it, running through the trees with JJ, your hand in his. Once the woods parted to make way for the closest drive-way you saw JJ’s dirt bike. There were plenty of times that you had almost taken him up on the offer of riding on the back of the bike with him but you always backed out at the last second, far too terrified of falling off or getting hurt. Today you hardly thought twice of it, climbing on the rungs and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You leaned forward, kissing JJ’s cheek before he kicked up the stand and took off, “I love you.”
“Love you.” JJ replied quickly before taking off, grinning at the feeling of your grip on his shoulders tightening.  
The middle of the afternoon was far different from midnight and Heyward’s was open, Pope and Kiara coming out when they heard the sound of the dirt bike, as if they’d been waiting. The moment you each dismounted Kiara was pulling you into a hug, swearing that she ‘knew it’, knew you weren’t standing him up. She passed you over to Pope, who hugged you and whispered in your ear that he was glad you came, knowing without having to tell you that you understood just how much this relationship meant to JJ.  
“Come on,” JJ grabbed your hand, pulling you away from them. “We gotta go.”
“You can take ten seconds to give me a hug JJ,” Kiara said, already pulling him into a hug.  
“Okay, okay,” he laughed, hugging her back and lifting her a little off the ground before letting her go, “we need to leave, I love you guys, I’ll see ya soon.”
“See ya man,” Pope hugged him, “call us.”
JJ was guiding you away from them again, over to where he had docked the Phantom. He had taken your duffel bag the day before and it was still sitting there under the bench along with his backpack. The last time you had been on a boat with JJ had been out on the Pogue, in the Marsh. This was a lot different, the outlet to the ocean just beyond your vision but getting closer as JJ steered the Phantom. Kiara and Pope shouted their goodbyes from the jetty and you waved, suddenly feeling like that weight that settled on your chest was gone.  
“Are you freaking out?” JJ asked, catching your attention.  
You got up from the bench, careful as you walked over to him. “No but I'm sure my mom is.” You replied, laughing a little when JJ wrapped his arm around your waist and guided you in front of him, putting you between him and the wheel. You turned your head, tilting back to kiss him.  
A police car rushed past Kiara and Pope as they stood outside of Heyward’s, heading in the direction of the church and your house. When Shoupe pulled in, the yard was quiet. Your siblings and their families were all inside, your oldest sister trying to do damage control with Timothy’s family while your mom and dad stood outside, your mom clutching the letter and the necklace.  
The cross was something that your mom had given you on your thirteenth birthday, a symbol of your devotion and love for the Lord, now it was tucked in her hand as she tried not to absolutely fall apart. Timothy’s mother was simply upset that you had seemingly skipped out on her son but your mom was dealing with the reality that you were gone and she had no idea where you would even go.  
“When was the last time you saw her?” Shoupe asked, skeptical as he took down your information. You were 18, according to your parents, 18-year-olds didn’t need permission to leave home without telling anyone. So far, he was unconvinced of a crime.  
“Hardly an hour ago.” Your mom replied, thrusting the note into his hand, “she left this...I know that boy she was sneaking around with put her up to it.”
“Do you know this boy’s name?” he asked, looking over the vague note you had left.
“JJ Maybank.” Your father said.
Shoupe frowned, if there was any name that immediately sparked his interest it was JJ’s. It didn’t matter whether JJ was guilty of something or not, nine times out of ten Shoupe was positive that any misconduct on the island could be traced back to JJ and his friends. “Look, usually in cases like this I would tell you that, your kid is 18, if you haven’t heard from her in 24 hours then I’ll file a missing persons. But I know that Maybank kid...I’ll talk to his friends, see if anyone knows anything. You hear from your daughter, you let me know.”  
“Thank you, deputy.” Your father said, his arms around your mom as she continued to cry. You were gone and he wasn’t sure if he was angrier that you had walked out on your family’s expectations of you or that you were embarrassing them in front of a potential future husband. Either way, the thought that something they did contributed to your disappearance never occured to them.  
-
Charleston wasn’t half-way between North Carolina and Florida. There wasn’t anything special about the place and even Pope had asked why JJ didn’t just take the Phantom down to Georgia for a stopover. JJ’s only explanation was that he knew a guy in Charleston and, technically, he did. When Luke had served an 18-month sentence for a petty misdemeanor his cellmate had been an in-the-process-of-reforming drug addict who took himself down to South Carolina to work in a program for recovering addicts. He kept in touch with JJ, making sure that Luke was treating the boy right and JJ always lied through his teeth that everything was great.  
“Nothing to worry about.”
But he’d called a few weeks before with an odd favor. One that Luke’s cellmate readily agreed to, no questions asked, but a strange request all the same. “Meet me at the courthouse in Charleston.”  
Now you stood outside, scuffing the toe of your converse against the pavement, JJ’s cellphone held in a vice grip against your ear. Independence didn’t exist in your family, at least not for you. You belonged to your father until you belonged to a husband and there was no other way around it. JJ was sitting on the hood of his friend’s car, talking about heading down to Flordia, watching you as you stood a few feet away, fiddling with the strings that tied the dress he’d bought you in Chapel Hill. You’d dug it out of a drawer in your mom’s room and wore it now, a small symbol of freedom.  
“Hello?” Your mother’s voice came through the phone, a little grainy.
“Mom?”
Suddenly she was shouting for your father and you could practically hear her switching the phone over to speaker so he could hear you too. His footsteps were heavy in the background and when you were sure he was in earshot you spoke again, not ready to hear whatever bible verse he had earmarked for this very specific occasion.  
“I just wanted you to know I’m okay, JJ and I are heading down south. We’ll be staying with a cousin of his until we can get our own place.” You told them, “but we’re safe. Kiara told me you called the police; you can tell them you made a mistake...I left on my own.”
JJ stood up, walking over to where you stood, nodding to you as if silently asking you to put the phone on speaker. You held it away from your ear and tapped the button on the screen, your father’s reprimanding voice pouring through the phone.
“Stop, stop,” your mother insisted, cutting into the conversation with the only thing you knew she cared about. “What am I supposed to tell Timothy’s parents?”
“Tell ‘em she’s already married.” JJ answered for you, winking at you when you smiled. Charleston wasn’t anything special, expect they let you get married the same day you applied for a license and you knew it was the only thing your parents would listen to. When you had told JJ he’d been more than onboard with the idea. Surprisingly okay, eager even.
“What?” Your father practically shouted through the phone. He had sat up the night, waiting for the call you promised them only for it to come through early in the afternoon the next day with this, news that you had married this kid.
“Ace-” your mom seemed like there was something more she wanted to say, something that she couldn’t say with your father hovering beside her.
“I’ll be in touch, love you.” You said, ending the call and realizing, as JJ pulled you into a hug, that you were crying. “I really hate them sometimes but I don’t...want them to hate me.”
“Trust me,” JJ reassured, “I know all about it.”  
-
Your shoes sat abandoned on the small front lawn, socks stuffed inside as you stood a few feet away, ankles deep in a plastic kiddie pool that was slowly filling with hose water. You still had your uniform on, a short sleeved, short-hemmed, yellow waitress dress that buttoned up the front. Balanced on your hip, your arms around her, was JJ’s cousin’s daughter, his niece for the sake of simplifying things. She wore a white bathing suit with rainbow flowers all over it, a frilly skirt around the waist. Her Elmo submarine bobbed in the water as it got higher.  
“Look, Daisy,” you cooed, drawing her attention to you and then pointing to the object of your interest. An older model Ford truck pulled into the driveway, JJ behind the wheel. “Whose that?”
“JJ!” Daisy clapped her hands with each syllable, thrilled at the sight of him.  
The car door slammed behind him, standing there with his coverall’s tied at his waist, white wife-beater dirty from work. His cousin had gotten him the job at the autobody shop that he’d been promised and JJ was enjoying it more than he thought he would. The smile on his face when he saw you was infectious.  
“Where’s Brett?” He asked, looking around the small yard of the trailer. It was nothing terribly special, a double-wide trailer that JJ’s cousin Brett had bought after his girlfriend got pregnant. Now he lent out the room that Daisy had been sleeping in to you and JJ, asking only that you pay for groceries every other week and babysit whenever need be.  
“Went to meet April for lunch.” You replied, “you’re early.”
“Don’t act so excited.” He teased, getting close enough that you could kiss him, Daisy reaching out for him and calling his name again. “As soon as I change Dais,” he promised, kissing the baby’s head.
“Kiara called, asked if we’ll be up for Pope’s birthday?” You mentioned, setting Daisy down in the kiddie pool and getting out to shut off the hose. “I said yes.”
“Yeah, definitely.” He nodded, pausing at the steps as if he wasn’t quite sure what he had intended to do next, finally turning to look back at you as you kneeled down on the outside of the pool in hopes of keeping your uniform clean. “You okay with going back for a weekend?”
“Now that I’ve fallen into like, total debauchery, definitely.” You joked, “my parents probably won’t even recognize me if I don’t, you know, get stuck down by lightening just walking onto the property.”  
JJ snorted, “slow your roll there Cheech, you still can’t smoke and you definitely can’t handle your liquor.”  
“Go get changed so I can...Brett basically handed me Daisy, threw a shirt on and left. I didn’t even get to change.” You mentioned, pointing to the dress, “I know it’s some weird turn-on for you but I’d like to put a bathing suit on.”
“Hey, I’m happy to oblige,” he called, the screen door clambering behind him as he disappeared into the trailer.  
You had tried to imagine a few times, what you would’ve been doing right now if you had stayed in the Outer Banks, if JJ had never asked you out to begin with. Probably packing for Tennessee, signing off on a life-sentence with someone who thought your greatest contribution to his life would be in how many children you could give him and how well you kept his house. Certainly not living in a trailer in a small town, saving dollars in a jar, with a future ahead of you that was as much yours to decide as JJ’s.  
“Alright, get your ass in there and change.” JJ said, coming out of the trailer. He’d left the white tank on but changed into an old pair of swim shorts, climbing into the kiddie pool as if it was intended solely for him.  
You stood up, brushing grass off your knees and leaning over to kiss JJ one more time, “be right back. Don’t have fun without me.”
“Oh we’re gonna have all the fun!” He called as the door shut behind you.  
As you passed the mirror on the door you stopped to look at your reflection. You looked the same as you had when you left for Florida four months ago but there was something there, something so different that you couldn’t recognize yourself sometimes. A good different though, the kind that settled over you like a warm sun in the summer, the kind that blossomed up in your chest and let you know that all these decisions that led to right now had been the right ones. 
-
Taglist: @outrbanks @mendesmaybank @thehomeiknow @minnie-bby @katiaw2 @2kayla64 @stevie-buck @bijleegiregi  @vitaminekabc @minigranger @teamnick @just-smile-darling @obxsummer @damonsalvawhore27 @isqbella @tomzfrog @fangirlvoice @phantompogues @98starkeys @ilovejjmaybank @lemur46 @khiaraaa-in-spacee @babygal-babygal @niya-savage @divvrx @princess-of-the-fandoms @thecaptainsgingersnap @jenjie @yourprincess-maybe @wowmaybankk @goldeng1rl8 @heavenlymama @vindictive-hearts @alexa-playafricabytoto @dontjinx-it @randomficsandshit @niamhobrien @strangerthanfanfiction713 @tovvaa @freckled-and-daydreaming @harleylynn @bibliophilewednesday @dpaccione @bolaurel @poguestyleskye @beautyandthebleh @under-a-canyon-moon @outerbankspreferences
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agustdakasuga · 4 years
Text
You Never Walk Alone | Chapter 21
Genre: Werewolf!AU, Poly!AU?, Mate!AU, romance, fluff
Pairing: OT7 x Reader
Characters: Student!reader, Omega!Seokjin, Alpha!Yoongi, Beta!Hoseok, Alpha!Namjoon, Omega!Jimin, Beta!Taehyung, Alpha!Jungkook
Summary: You live a quiet life in your late grandfather’s cabin in the woods. You go to school just to graduate and get your diploma, not to make friends or stand out from the crowd. That was until one day, you enter your home to see a pack of wolves that need shelter.
You’re the weakness of the princes and the best bait to lure them out. All you can pray for now is the boys to be safe and hope for an opportunity to escape your kidnappers.
Chapter warning(s): Kidnapping, violence, character death (cameos). Please read at your own discretion.
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“It’s late. Where is she?” Taehyung came downstairs, realising you weren’t back yet. You have been gone for about 2 hours and it was getting late. The boys knew that you wouldn’t stay out too late because of school the next day.
“We’re patrolling so we’ll just check.” Namjoon said and Hoseok nodded his head in agreement. Stepping out onto the desk, they removed their clothes and shifted before taking off into the forest. Jimin shivered slightly, tightening the blanket around his body.
“You okay?” Taehyung asked his best friend.
“Yeah...” Jimin replied, looking out into the dark where his brothers disappeared into the woods. Something wasn’t right.
“I don’t smell her.” Hoseok told the leader as they padded their way through the forest, heading over to where your house was. Namjoon stopped and sniffed the air.
“She’s... not here.” Namjoon’s eyes widened when they arrived. The place was empty, the only people there were the two of them.
“Hoseok. Look at this.” Namjoon got Hoseok’s attention. Hoseok walked over and saw what Namjoon was staring at. On the dirt ground was your photo with your grandfather, along with your phone, which has been stepped on. The two looked at each other. There was no way that you would just drop your grandfather’s photo and leave like that.
“Something happened to her. We need to alert the others.” Hoseok said and Namjoon picked up the photo in his mouth, being careful not to tear it with his teeth.
“There’s footprints!” Hoseok saw the boot imprints on the ground. That just confirmed their worst fears as they ran home.
“EVERYONE OUT! (y/n) HAS BEEN TAKEN!” Namjoon shouted.
On cue, 5 wolves leapt out the side door and onto the dirt, serious looks on their faces. Namjoon placed the photo safely onto the porch platform. He wasn’t going to let that photo be destroyed. 
“What happened?” Yoongi asked. 
“We got there and she was gone. Her scent was faint and mixed with wolfsbane. There were footprints on the ground. We only found the photo she was carrying on the dirt and her cellphone was crushed beyond recognition.” Hoseok gave them all a rundown. 
“No... (y/n)...” Jimin whimpered. 
“We’ll split into our teams to comb the area. Be on the lookout for her scent or any wolfsbane.” Namjoon ordered. Everyone moved into their teams, the youngest 3 together, Yoongi with Hoseok and Jin with Namjoon. 
“Jin hyung will follow me to alert the neighbouring packs and see if any hunters came into their borders.” Namjoon told them.
“We’ll start from the north and come east.” Taehyung said. 
“Then we’ll that south and west.” Yoongi nodded. 
“Be careful. Do not do anything irrational on your own. Keep everyone updated at all times. I don’t want anyone getting injured or anything else, don’t compromise your safety. Understand?” 
“Yes, leader.” The 6 said. 
“Someone took our mate and they’ll pay the price for it. We’re not resting until she is back home safe and sound.” Namjoon growled and all 7 wolves darted off into their set directions towards their destinations. They knew they weren’t just dealing with rogues. Sooner or later, they would have to fight hunters and they just hope that they won’t be too late. 
You coughed as your eyes opened. Your cheek was pressed against the dirty concrete ground. Squirming, you tried to push yourself to sit up but with your hands tied behind your back and your ankles tightly bound, it was hard. Where were you?
“Look who’s awake?” A sudden voice made you jump. You struggled to move your head to see who was in the room with you. Your eyes narrowed on the figure that sat in the corner. 
“W-Who are you?” You choked. 
“You don’t recognise me?” He stood up and walked over. It was the male from before! He’s the one that set fire to your house and kidnapped you!
“Why are you doing this? I don’t even know who you are!” You shouted. The guy bent down in front of you, grasping your shoulders to make you sit up. He leaned closer to you and you pushed your head back. 
“Amazing, you look like both of them.” He chuckled in disbelief. 
“What?! Get away from me!” You tried to move away from him but it was the wall behind you. 
“You look just like my sister and brother in law combined together. Both their features together.” He raised his eyebrows and then, it dawned on you. The man was talking about your parents, your mother being his sister and your father being his brother-in-law. You never knew what your parents looked like, did you really resemble them? 
“I don’t have parents! My only family is my grandfather and he died years ago.” You spat, glaring at him. 
“That’s no way to talk to your uncle.” He pursed his lips. You knew you made him mad by not acknowledging your parents and of course, saying that your grandfather, a werewolf, was your only family. 
“Your mother wouldn’t have liked you relating yourself to that mutt.” 
“Don’t you dare call him that! And I told you, I don’t have a mother. It’s certainly not that person who abandoned me in a battlefield.” You glowered. 
“Just how brainwash have you been? That you’d rather side with those creatures instead of your own family. (y/n), they’re not normal. Werewolves aren’t meant to exist.” He slapped your cheek.
“That’s not for you to decide!” You shouted, hair covering your face as you fell back to the ground from the impact. 
“You should be joining your family in this war, not going against them. We’re your only family, (y/n), not these mutts. You’re not one of them, staying with them will only lead to your death. Surely you don’t believe in their whole mate thing, right?” He chuckled. 
“I very much so believe in them. You’re not my family. Those boys have been my family a lot more than you guys have.” You glared. 
“Whatever you say.” He shrugged and walked over to the door, opening it. Casting me one last look, he turned around and left you alone in the dark. You wouldn’t cry, not for him. 
“This is her?” Three guys and two girls walked in. You raised your head to look at them. 
“Get away from me.” You glared as they came closer. 
“We’re your cousins. I’m Soobin, this is Yerin, Minwoo, Jongjin and Kiwoo.” One girl said. (These are all random names with no relations to any idol)
“Yeah, pulling the family card isn’t really going to work, I’m afraid. I don’t know you guys, you aren’t my family. I grew up with my grandfather and have 7 mates, they are my only family.” You spoke. Hearing you say the word ‘mates’, their expressions darkened. It was obvious that they were part of the family ‘business’ as well. 
“We know you’re upset because of what happened, (y/n). Your parents never meant to leave you behind.” Minwoo said. 
“What those wolves did... They’re liars. You can’t trust them. All they are trying to do is manipulate you. You were taken from us as a revenge plot against our family.” Yerin persuaded. 
“Lies. I’m not going to believe anything you say!” You struggled against your restraints. 
“We’ll just wait for your precious mates to come then. That is... If they come.” Jongjin raised an eyebrow. 
“Whatever tactic you’re trying, isn’t going to work. I have a more faith in them than what you think. They will come and you won’t stand a chance against any of them.” You scoffed. Soobin frowned, reaching over to grasp your jaw tightly in her hand. 
“My dear cousin, you’re naive to think that they will beat us.” 
“I don’t need to think, I know they will beat you. They’ve done it before, they can do it again. After all, you know what happened to my so called... parents.” You shrugged. 
“You little-” She slapped your cheeks repeatedly, making you fall to the ground with a grunt. Kiwoo pulled Soobin away from you. 
“Think of your position right now, (y/n). I would not pull that stunt again if I were you.” Minwoo warned. 
“Maybe you need some time to think. We’ll be back.” The 5 of them left, slamming the door shut and leaving you alone in the dark. You still laid there, eyes travelling to the boarded up windows. No, you had faith in the boys, you knew you needed to put on a strong face even if you were scared and anxious on the inside. You weren’t going to let them see your weakness.
These people that claim to be your ‘family’... You don’t get it. How did they expect you to believe them when that man kidnapped you and prior to that, tried to kill you in your own house. 
“Get me out!” You screamed and struggled. 
Straining your neck, you looked down to see that your white crystal necklace was still there. That was your only connection with the boys now. 
“Screaming won’t help. No one can hear you. You’re not where you think you are.” Soobin came in. Her arms were crossed and her eyes were hard. You looked away. 
“What are you doing back so fast?” You spat as she sat you up to lean back against the wall. 
“Thought this may help you think better.” She threw something in front of you. 
“What?” You stared at the image and back at her. 
“That’s your parents. And you.” She rolled her eyes. Hearing that, you turned your head, refusing to look at the picture of the couple and the baby again. That baby wasn’t you. It was someone else. Those people weren’t your parents. You would never call such monsters parents. 
“LOOK AT IT!” She held your face and shoved the picture right in front of you. You let out a sarcastic chuckle. 
“Desperate, are we?” You smirked. 
“You think your little mutts are such angels and we’re the bad guys. Did you even see the state of your own parents?” She placed more pictures in front of you. 
“Look at what your precious wolves did to them!” She screamed. From the side of your eyes, you glanced at the pictures of the dismembered bodies. Even if you didn’t care, your stomach churned at the gore. 
There were bite marks, chunks of flesh ripped out, exposed bone and blood everywhere. You wouldn’t even have known what you were looking at if it weren’t for Soobin telling you what the picture held. It was a blood bath, the aftermath of a war. Soobin was obviously livid, but not because of your stubbornness, there was something else. 
“When did your parents die?” You asked. 
“Ask your precious mates that. If you have the chance to, before I kill them.” She said spitefully, leaving. 
“Wait.” You called and she stopped, turning around. She had such a look of hope in her face, as if she was victorious in persuading you. 
“Take the pictures. They’re worthless to me. It’s disgusting.” You said and she frowned even deeper. Pursing her lips, she spun back and walked out of the room. With your bound legs, you swept the pictures away. 
“Some family.” You scoffed. 
When the door opened a few hours later, you were faced by your uncle and your cousins. But they weren’t alone, they had some people behind them. 
“What?” You drowned out. There were 5 boys behind them. From their vibes, they definitely weren’t hunters. They had fiercer looks on their faces and they were dressed differently. The 5 boys stood in front of you. Their aura actually made you shrink back a little. 
“Who are you?” You asked cautiously. 
“The princes’ mate is this?” One guy looked over at you in disbelief. You frowned, were you supposed to be offended by his words?
“Yes, that’s her.” Your uncle nodded in confirmation. 
“You want to take over the princes’ right? She will make you come right to your door step. Like bees to honey.” Yerin crossed her arms. Wait, take over the princes? 
“We’ll take her then.” The boys cast you one last glance and walked away with your uncle. Suddenly, Kiwoo and Jongjin came over, grasping you by your arms and lifting you up. This was your chance. 
“Stop kicking!” Jongjin grunted as you struggled to get free. You squirmed, thrashed and kicked around. 
“What the hell? You guys are just selling me out to these strangers?” You screamed until Minwoo forced a cloth gag into your mouth. No, you were going to give it everything you got. They sat you down in a van that you assumed belonged to those boys. You glared at the 5 people that were supposedly your cousins. Talk about family betrayal. 
“Don’t worry, cousin. We’ll see each other again very soon.” Soobin smirked at you.
“They’re wolves, aren’t they? They are trying to use me to get the boys’ place! Why are you even working with them?” You spat. 
“They are. But they’re not what we’re after. There’s a bigger prize we’re after. And who knows, we may just kill two birds with one stone.” Kiwoo shrugged. This guy was speaking in riddles. 
“Let’s go.” The 5 boys came out again. 
“Goodbye, cousin. Don’t miss us too much.” Minwoo said as they stepped back. They all waved at you. 
“Yah! Some wolves you guys are! You know they’re hunters and you’re working with them?! Have some dignity! They’re just trying to use me to kill all of you sooner or later!” You shouted as those boys hopped into the van with you, one sitting in the driver’s seat. 
“Silence her.” One glared. 
“Don’t touch me!” You warned. Suddenly, a damp cloth was wrapped over your nose and mouth as someone held your head in place. You kicked around, trying to scream until you slowly blacked out. 
-
“If only we can mind link her.” Yoongi cursed. Namjoon had just came back after alerting the neighbouring packs but so far, none of them had any intruders into their territory. 
“Where could they have taken her?” Jin stared at the pail of water. His finger drew along the surface of it and 8 images appeared. 
“She’s still alive. I don’t think they have hurt her much yet.” He looked over at the others. 
“Cowards!” Jungkook growled as he kicked the tree outside. They were at a dead end. Where could they even start to look for you? Even with their parents informed, what could they do? There were just too many possibilities with where the kidnappers took you. Hunters were good at hiding themselves from wolf packs. 
“Come on.” Jimin laid in his bed, trying to force himself to sleep. Their mate bond was strong. If he had appeared in your dreams before, he could do it again. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 
“(y/n)?” Jimin looked around the forest. 
“Please! (y/n)!” Jimin shouted as he ran around the place. He ran to the field he often met you but you weren’t there. Tears streamed down his face. 
“Jimin?” He heard your voice. 
“(y/n)!” He turned around but you weren’t there, he was alone. Jimin continued running. The next place was the lake. As he ran there, he slowly saw the lake come into his view. 
“(y/n)...” He called softly as he saw you standing in the water. 
“(y/n)! Baby!” Jimin ran to the edge of the water. You turned around and your eyes widened at the sight of him. Quickly, you ran over before he could even enter the lake. You were dressed in a beautiful white dress but Jimin didn’t waste time to fawn over your beauty. 
“Chim.” You hugged him. 
“Where are you, my love? Where have you gone?” Jimin cried. You held his cheeks and it felt like you were really holding him. 
“I don’t know where I am, Chim. But be careful. There are too many things going on now. I’m afraid things end in bloodshed.” You said worriedly. Jimin kissed your forehead. 
“Bub, don’t worry about bloodshed. We won’t rest until you’re back.” 
“I’ve learnt so much about the people who are supposed to be my family, Chim... It’s horrible.” You cried against his chest. He tightened his hold around you. 
“Don’t cry. No more tears, angel.” He whispered. 
“Chim, the rogues-” 
You gasped as cold water was splashed on you, ruining your dream connection with Jimin. Luckily, the water was able to mask the tears that spilt from your eyes. Shivering, you looked up at the 5 boys that stared down at you. They were angry, their gazes filled with rage as they stared down at you. One pulled your hair back, making you wince. 
“Why so quiet? You were pretty mouthy earlier, were you not?” He taunted. You glared at him. 
“Glare all you want. You’ll be here for a while until your little princes come and save you.” They all smirked. 
“You guys will never beat them. You’re wolves working with hunters, that’s a joke!” You sneered and the one who held your head angrily slammed your temple into the wall. 
“Easy. We can’t have her dead before the princes arrive.” Another one chuckled. You felt something warm drip down the side of your head. 
“I agree. At least give her the chance to watch her precious mates die before she meets her own end.” They all cackled evilly. The man released your hair harshly and you blinked repeatedly, trying to focus your vision with the throbbing in your head. 
“Your princes owe us a lot. They killed two of our brothers.” One raised his eyebrows. 
“Because... you sent them after me!” You force out. They shrugged in response.
“You guys are damned if you think that those hunters would have easily let you take me like that without anything. They will come back and it will cost all your lives!” You threatened. 
“Oh, we know about their little plan to come and supposedly kill us once we have killed the princes. But we can take them. They’re just pesky little humans that have too much free time on their hands. Hunters don’t scare us.” One threw his head back in laughter. These boys or rogues were too naive. Namjoon has told you before to never underestimate hunters. 
There’s a reason that they have managed to wipe out so many werewolf packs in the past decades. There’s a reason hunters still exist. 
“The princes’ mate is the daughter of the top two hunters. Or... ‘were’ the top two hunters.” They teased. 
“Using those people against me won’t work. Those that came before you have already tried. I have no feelings for any of them. I don’t care how they died, when they died, why they died.” You spat. 
“Interesting... Family feud.” One nodded his head. 
“Well, we’ll be back, princess. Sit tight.” They stood up and walked away. Like before, you were left alone in the darkness. 
~~
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O Children
Minerva couldn’t sleep. Ever since the war had begun, she had become more and more restless in her sleep, increasingly worrying Poppy. Thus, she did not miss a single second of the sharp, rapid, loud knock on the door of their little cottage that sounded at 4 am on that cold November morning. Tightening the string of her checkered green plaid robe, she walked rapidly down the stairs, leaving the vapour of her cup of tea resting on the window sill to god up the window. The lower floor of the house was plunged deep in darkness, the only light coming from the porch lamp whose glow glittered through the door’s coloured glass panels. Gripping her wand tightly, she unlocked the door.
“Albus!” She gasped. “What type of ice cream did I get at Florean’s in Diagon Alleys on August 22nd, 1975?”
Her wand was pointed right at the centre of his chest omnipresent reminder of the war.
“Raspberry sprinkled with rose petals and lavender-infused chocolate topped with almond brittle,” said the old man tiredly.
He looked weary the twinkle in his blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles dim, long white hair and beard having lost their silvery shine, clothes dusty. It was almost as if more wrinkles had appeared on his face since the last time she had seen him, rendering his face even grimmer, a gloom look stretching across his features.
“What happened?” She asked tightly. “Who…who died?”
Her friend’s silence was unbearable, hanging heavy in the air, announcing in-pendent doom.
“I can’t remain long, I must go and take care of matters, but I assumed you would wish to be notified among the first…”
“Albus. Who. Died?” She repeated.
He sighed.
“Peter Pettigrew and…James and Lily Potter, all murdered by Sirius Black.”
An icy, unpleasant, terrifying wave of cold flooded her veins, disbelief painted on her face. It wasn’t possible.
“No,” she whispered. “There must have been an error. No. Sirius would never do such a thing to James and Lily. They were his best friends. You are wrong.”
The Headmaster watched her with compassion as she muttered “no” under her breath over and over again, refusing to acknowledge the hard and bitter truth. It felt as if the world was spinning at breakneck speed around her, dizzying her. Everything swam before her eyes, blurring and mixing, a kaleidoscopic slush of colours, and numerous seconds passed before Minerva realised that the thin watery veil clouding her gaze was burning hot, unspilt tears. Her grip on the door handle was so tight her knuckles had turned white.
“When? How?…Why?” She breathed raggedly.
“We don’t know exactly,” started Albus gently. “All we know is that Sirius Black was the Potter’s Secret Keeper, he allegedly betrayed them, which led us to believe he reconnected with his family and worked closely with Voldemort. Peter Pettigrew attempted to warn and save Lily and James, and in a fit of madness, Black blew up the street and killed Pettigrew along with thirteen muggles. He was found in a muggle neighbourhood nearby and has since then been arrested and sentenced to Azkaban for life. It was debated whether or not he should receive the Dementor’s kiss, but the judges decided upon a life sentence at Azkaban. I am still waiting for more information, and I will send you the full Order report as soon as it is ready. Members of the Order are of course working on the case along with the Ministry Aurors.”
She watched him tiredly, still refusing to believe him.
“Now, if you will excuse me, Minerva, I unfortunately still have urgent matters to attend to, I cannot remain any longer. I present you my sincerest condolences for your loss, I know that they were all very dear to you, and excellent students. I myself am still quite disbelieving at the situation.”
She looked at him stonily.
“No, you are not,” she thought, but she only asked:
“And Remus? And harry, James’ and Lily’s child?”
“Mr. Lupin hasn’t returned from his mission yet, as for young Harry…I’ve taken care of it
An uneasy feeling overcame her.
“Albus, what did you do?”
The elderly wizard failed to meet her eye.
“I have left him with his last living relatives, the Dursleys. Petunia Dursley was Lily Evans Potter’s sister—“
“I know that, “ snapped Minerva. “What I do not understand is why you thought this was a viable solution. I have met the Dursleys. They are close-minded, rude, and despicable people. They are not a good family or entourage for Harry to grow up in. Petunia Dursley could barely stomach her own sister, I shudder at the thought of how she will treat her nephew. Neither James nor Lily would have wanted this for their son, Albus, I can’t—“
“It does not matter, Minerva,” he cut her off. “While I appreciate your concerns, the matter is sealed and there is nothing to be done now. I have my reasons, and I hope you will trust me as you have done many times before. I wish you a pleasant evening, or well, rather morning I suppose.”
He turned around, his robes sweeping the floor as he walked away until he was nothing but a mere silhouette amongst the shadows, all semblants of warm, glowing light gone.
“Bastard,” seethed the witch after him, before slamming the door shut.
The shock of wood against wood resonated around her in the darkness. She did not know what to do now, what to say, what to think, what to feel. For the first time in years, Minerva was lost. She stood there, back pressed against the hard door, wand held tightly in her wrinkled hand, dark brown hair streaked with gray tumbling down her shoulders, and felt oddly empty, almost numb, as she looked curiously at the single ray of moonlight piercing through the back windows. The old stairs creaked in the far left corner of the living room, and a trembling golden glow filled the lower floor of the white brick cottage. Poppy appeared behind the sofa, gripping her wand whose tip was alight with a soft shine, wrapped in her midnight blue nightgown. She looked weary and pale in the dim light, almost ghost-like, her quivering lip betraying her inner turmoil. Minerva stared at her blankly, as she approached her.
“Minnie,” whispered her wife, kneeling in front of her, placing a soft hand on her wrinkled cheek.
“That’s what they used to call me, James and Sirius, Minnie, mum…they were the only ones who dared to,” she croaked.
“I know,” said Poppy softly, wrapping her arms around her frail shoulders, hugging her tightly. “They were wonderful children and—“
“He killed them,” interrupted Minerva hoarsely. “He killed them…”
She shivered, whether it was coldness or something else, much darker, buried inside of her, she did not know, but she began trembling violently.
“VOLDEMORT KILLED THEM!” She roared, eyes blazing, face red, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Minerva,” murmured Poppy, chocking on her name, as she held her crying wife in her arms, who shook violently, wracked by uncontrollable sobs.
“He killed them, he killed them, he killed them,” she muttered over and over again, face buried in the crook of Poppy’s neck.
Neither of them had any idea how long they stayed there, on the cold hard floor, leaving against the entrance door of their house. But, soon enough, the morning sun’s first golden rays began filtering through the windows. The sky was beautiful outside, a painted canvas of amber, orange and pink fading into a dark blue in one corner and a clear azure in the other. It was all awfully joyful and pretty, considered the grim circumstances. Exhausted, Poppy got up, and holding Minerva by the elbow, led her to the upholstered burgundy armchair overlooking the small fireplace where coals lay cold and dead amongst the ash. She settled weakly into it, covering herself with a large plaid blanket. She felt nothing, no pain, no sorrow, no joy, nothing. Her mind still hadn’t fully processed the loss, and the first shock of emotions having been evacuated by hours and hours of mourning the dead, she was now empty, hollow.
“Poppy,” she said quietly, taking the small green hand-painted ceramic mug her wife handed her, having come back from the kitchen. “Do you honestly believe, Sirius…”
She stopped, her voice cracking, a shy remnant of the power it used to be.
She took a deep breath in, before trying again.
“Do you think Sirius killed James, Lily, and Peter?” She asked in a small voice,
“Of course not, replied Poppy, taking a sip of her tea. “I don’t believe Sirius would be able to kill someone in the first place, let alone murder his best friends.”
Minerva nodded,
“I do not think so either, but…I don’t know, something is wrong…”
Silence settled in their home, as the birds chirped merrily outside, welcoming the new day with joy and excitement. Suddenly, a loud knock sounded at the kitchen window. Minerva stood up heavily, and leaving her empty teacup on the worktop, she opened it, letting the waiting owl in. Running her hand gently through its glossy tan plumage, she took the newspaper from its claws and slipped five Knuts into the small leather pouch tied at its leg. Big headlines printed in bold black letters glared back at her from the white paper, screaming victory:
“Dark Lord vanquished and gone, for good this time”
“Dark Lord dead: Wizarding Britain celebrates”
“Harry Potter, the young saviour of our world”
She skimmed briefly through the paragraphs, squinting at the fine print, shaking her head slowly.
“Fools,” she thought.
She opened the Daily Prophet to the second page and dropped it in shock when Sirius Black’s desperate face stared back at her from the black and white moving picture. An Auror was restraining him, holding him at wand point, as he desperately attempted to free himself from her iron grip. His face was a mask of pure anguish and misery, as tears ran down his face, his usually lustrous black hair sticking in mangy strands to his skin.
“I’m so sorry.”
He appeared to be mouthing the same three words over and over again.
Above the picture, the headline read:
“Sirius Orion Black: murderer, madman, and traitor”
Facing Poppy who was watching her worriedly, she whispered, voice breaking:
“I must find Remus, now.”
62 notes · View notes
freakingbellam · 3 years
Text
Timeless (HP & HOO crossover x reader)
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Synopsis: What would you say if I told you that Hogwarts and Camp Half-Blood are not so far apart? Yeah, Gale and Y/n would also say this is crazy. But these two girls are about to discover that even though they are far apart, the magic that surrounds them is the same. After all, what do a time travel, a fearful prophecy and a Titan about to resurrect, have in common? Certainly more than you can imagine.
Paring: Apollo x reader
Warnings: None, I guess.
Reader: Percy's step sister! reader
Word count: 1.7k
A / N: escreve o que quiser (notas da autora)
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September 2010, New York - USA
Y/n would be lying if she said she didn’t cry like a baby when she saw Argo II return to Camp Half-Blood. She had been forbidden to help in the battle against the giants, but she was nevertheless not full at Camp. After the near invasion of Camp Jupiter and Reyna's visit, things got messed up there.
But the best part of the return of the other demigods was seeing Percy again. He looked extremely exhausted, but happy to be back in one piece. Y/n hugged him for so long that Percy almost fell asleep in her arms.
The boy was welcomed with all the frenzy he deserved, entitled to a hearty banquet and a visit from his father, along with a very tearful Sally and a relieved Paul.
Tyson had been absolutely thrilled to see his older brother talking to his friends by the fire, which glowed high and yellow, mirroring the emotion of the half-bloods.
Despite being as happy as the others, and maybe even more so, Y/n retired a little earlier that night. She didn't walk long before her absence was noticed.
‘Mingling with the shadows? I thought this was my own thing.” The girl smiled at Nico di Angelo, who walked over to her with his hands in the pockets of his aviator jacket, which was still too big for him.
“I'm going to sleep, Nico.” She explained, continuing her way to Cabin 3. “It was a day full of emotions, I'm tired.”
Nico nodded, walking beside her. Y/n always found it fun to be the same size as Nico, but now she realized that he was a few inches taller than she was.
“Are you okay?” she asked, bringing up the subject.
“I think so.” Nico replied, looking surprised by his own conclusion. “Maybe things get better for me from now on.”
“I'm sure it will.” Y/n opened an encouraging smile. Because he was the son of Hades, Nico suffered more than all the other demigods, which worried the girl. She hadn't seen him since the war of the Titans, but she talked to Percy during her mission and discovered things she didn't want to discover.
She looked at Nico. For the first time in his life, his face looked serene, as if his problems were gone. Y/n realized that it would be better not to go into details about the problems he went through. She did not want to end his joy.
“Di Angelo!” someone called, running up to them. Y/n turned to find Will Solace smiling like a ray of sunshine. “Hi Y/n!”
“Will.” She smiled. When looking at Nico, she noticed a pink tint on his cheeks and held her laugh. “Can you take care of Nico for me? I need to go to sleep but he doesn't want to leave.”
Will smiled, realizing what she meant. Nico looked at her with anger and indignation, but he didn't seem against the idea.
“Certainly.” The blonde took a step forward. “Have a good night!”
“You too.” She raised an eyebrow at Nico and walked back to her cabin.
She was still smiling when she passed Hecate's cabin, which looked darker than ever. Her smile wilted. She had always been a little afraid of the goddess's children since she found herself a half-blood and moved to camp. But that night, something seemed comforting in the hideous darkness of the cabin. Unable to contain the impulse that occurred to her, Y/n went up on the porch and went through the open door. None of the goddess's children were there, they were probably still at the stake celebrating, they always loved a good party.
Y/n didn't know exactly what she expected to find inside, but she certainly wasn't ready for what she saw. She had never entered the cabin since she had never been invited and it didn't feel right to enter without an invitation like she did now. But what she found was an absolute void. No bunk beds, bathroom, closet or chest. Nothing for the basic comfort of teenagers. All that was inside was a torch on the floor with a brown leather-bound notebook beside it.
“Take it” A whisper said, and Y/n knelt down to better analyze the notebook.
“Who...?” She started the question, but knew at the time that she had no need to finish it. Hecate was there. “Are you hiding in the shadows?”
There was a harsh laugh, but Y/n couldn't tell where it came from. It was as if the goddess moved in every particle of air around her.
“I heard that Poseidon's children were mocking, but seeing that feat face to face is much more fun. Ares definitely didn't say enough about it.”
“I don't think he has any reason to boast about it.” She commented, but her body was tense. Something about the goddess made her feel that bad things would happen any second.
“Take the notebook.” She asked, seeming to feel the girl's tension. “Take it and bring my girl back.”
“What does that mean?” Y/n asked, but never got an answer.
After several minutes, she finally let herself be overcome by curiosity, put the notebook under her arm and ran out of the cabin.
Y/n spent a few days without touching the notebook, which was comfortably resting on the small table in her cabin. Percy asked several times what the notebook was and why Y/n didn't move it, but the girl always answered the same thing. "It's just a silly notebook." She was afraid to open it and end up triggering something she couldn't control.
Percy and the others had just returned from a massacre battle with irreparable losses, she didn't want to leave anyone alarmed by something as stupid as a leather notebook.
Y/n tried to distract herself. She would swim in the lake, duel with Percy in the arena, ask Tyson to teach her something in the forges, help Chiron with pending camp, talk about the biggest zucchinis with Rachel, encourage Annabeth to talk nonstop about architecture, sometimes make her repeat everything he had said in Greek, but nothing seemed to get her thoughts out of the notebook. Instead of being distracted, she got some scars from the duels, burns from the forges and throbbing ears, but nothing erased the notebook.
Tired of trying, Y/n returned to the cabin and spent several minutes looking at the problem. She would get up a few times, making a move to pick it up, but soon she would go back to sitting on bed. When she finally thought she would be brave enough to end the trip, someone knocked on the door.
Changing her course, Y/n opened the door to the blond, smug figure.
Y/n and Apollo had spent a lot of time together a few months before, not that any of them had a chance to do the opposite. He had helped her save the Camp when everyone seemed too busy saving the world. Now she was no longer able to get rid of the sun god, who suddenly appeared in her cabin. At least now he had learned to knock on the door before entering.
“Good afternoon, beautiful lady.” He smiled, breaking into the cottage before Y/n had a chance to expel him. “What do you do locked in that cabin?”
“Apollo, seriously, now is not the best time.”
“Every hour is the best time for Apollo!” He smiled at her and Y/n found herself unable to say no to him. The god had that effect on her, but she couldn't explain why. She just went back to bed and sighed.
“What happened, Sunshine?” he asked, now more serious.
Y/n pointed to the notebook, like a child pointing out the bully who was mistreating her. Pausing to think, it was almost the same.
Apollo's gaze followed Y/n 's finger until it stopped at the Hecate symbol on the cover of the notebook, and he froze.
“What's it?”
“That notebook.” He got up and picked up it, playing with it in his hands. “I saw Hecate with another of his once many years ago. I asked her what they were, but she cast a spell on me that prevented me from speaking for two months. Where did you find it?”
“I found him at her cabin.” The girl admitted, unable to lie to the closest friend she had at the camp until that moment. “I heard Hecate ask me to take him away. I didn't understand what she expects me to do.”
“Write.” He suggested, after long minutes of silence.
“I’m sorry?” Y/n looked at him, confused. “What if something bad happens, Apollo? I don't know if I want to find out.”
The god smiled gently, taking the book to the girl and handing it over, along with a blue ballpoint pen. Y/n hesitated for a few seconds before picking up the pen and opening the notebook. But she didn't do much more than that, as the words “Owned by G. J. W.” they magically appeared on the first leaf, in a strange black ink.
Y/n looked at Apollo for help, but he just shrugged and encouraged her to write something below. "G. J. W.? This notebook is mine, and my name has none of those letters!”
Before she had a chance to tell Apollo how ridiculous it was, the notebook replied.
G: "Who are you?"
Y: “Y/n Y/l/n, are you?”
G: "Gale Wright"
Y: “How the hell am I talking to you through my notebook? Where you are from?"
G: “England. I'm a student at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, how about you? What school of magic do you belong to? ”
Y: "I'm not going to any magic school, I'm from New York, there's no such thing here!"
G: "I thought the United States school of magic was Ilvermorny"
Y: "I am not a witch!"
G: "Oh by Merlin, are you a muggle?"
Y: "Look, I may not be a witch but you don't have to curse me!"
G: “Muggle is a term for non-wizards ... But if you are not a witch, how can you talk to me? This notebook is bewitched, only those who have contact with magic could see it ”
Y: "I didn't know that the notebook was enchanted until now ... I didn't even know about the existence of a school of magic, wizards, yes, now schools? No, things are very different here"
G: "Different how?"
Y: "I am a camper at Camp Half-Blood"
G: "And what would that be?"
Y: "Well, a camp for demigods, of course!"
Y/n waited, but nothing else happened. She looked up at Apollo, who looked as upset as she was.
“School of Magic and Witchcraft of... Hogwarts?” She asked, hoping that Apollo would say something to her.
“I've heard of that school. Hecate loves to talk about how she has an entire chain of schools that teach children to do what she does. She is very proud of it.” He explained, taking the notebook from Y/n and examining the last conversation. “I just didn't think it was real at all. All the gods think it's Hecate's invention, but no one has ever tried to prove it.”
“Well, I think we just did that.” Y/n joked, but was far from feeling the fun of the situation, because, there in front of her, there was a problem. Perhaps a much bigger problem than she imagined.
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autistic-yuri · 3 years
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“He/she/they lost his/her/their soulmate,” Yueki?
Hehe. Hehe. HEHEHEHEHEHE
There’s an old woman who lives on Kyoshi Island. Everyday, she sits on her porch all day and night, stuck in old memories that she can never recreate. She’s been living there forever, and very few knew her full story.
There’s rumors, of course.
“She’s a direct descendant of Kyoshi,” One girl says.
“She was a rogue Kyoshi Warrior,” says another.
“She fell in love with the Avatar, who broke her heart,” a third says.
The fourth is more curious. “Why don’t we ask her?” She says.
“Well… she doesn’t talk to anyone,” the first says.
“My sister says to stay away from her,” the second says.
“She can’t speak!” the third one says.
The fourth one looks at the old lady, feeling dejected.
She goes home later, kicking a rock on the way home.
She asks her mom and brother about the lady. They are more concise.
“Well she apparently used to travel with the Avatar,” Her mother says, tossing a salad.
“And was a kick ass warrior!” Her brother says, with lots of enthusiasm.
“Why can’t I talk to her?” The young girl says.
“Well, its simply taboo.” The mom shrugs.
“I heard she only talks to the moon!” Her brother shared.
“It’s because she lost her soulmate,” The girls grandmother emerged from her room for supper.
“Mom, what?” The girls mother replied.
“Yep,” her grandmother didn’t say anything more.
“Grandma, soulmates don’t exist,” the brother obnoxiously responded.
“Shhhh, dummy. She knows,” The young girls eyes lit up, as she hopped over to her grandma. “Grammy, please please please tell me about her!”
The old woman looked down at her grandchild, and smiled. “No.”
The girl felt her heart shatter. “Why?” She sobbed.
The old lady ran her hand through the girls hair. “You must ask her yourself,”
“Mom!” The girls mother yelled again.
“I do?” The young girl said, with big eyes.
“Yes, bring her some moon offering, and she’ll tell you.” The grandmother smiled slyly and slipped the girl a tea packet, with a crescent moon shape on it.
“Mom, she can’t go do that,” The mother tried to stop these antics, but the girl was already running out of there.
“Sorry mom, I’ll do extra dishes!” She yelled back quickly.
The girl made it through town and down to the small house. Looking at it in the full moon’s light, it was an ethereal place that could be in the spirit world.
The girl approached and found a small rope leading up to a crescent shaped bell. She pulled on it, and a little jingle came out.
The girl bounced in front of the door for a few minutes until it opened, revealing the old lady.
She was sad looking up close, her wrinkles causing her face to droop. She looked like she’d been crying too.
The little girl didn’t notice any of this though. She just quickly took out the tea packet, and lifted it up to the elderly woman. “I want to learn about your soulmate.”
The old woman frowned, and took the packet. “Why?” She croaked.
“Because I’m curious and you’re the only person who can help…” the girl said sheepishly. The old lady’s eyes twinkled and she nodded.
The girl excitedly squealed, and the woman led her inside the house.
Inside the house were even more moon themed objects, along with a lot of painting and tapestries. The paintings and tapestries all depicted either the moon, the moon spirits, or a girl with dark skin and white hair.
The woman eventually opened the door to the balcony, which had a perfect view of the full moon. The sat down in a chair, next to a tapestry depicting the girl with white hair sitting in a pond.
She motioned to a rug, depicting to two moon spirits. The little girl sat down on it.
“So, you want to know about her?” The old lady said, not making eye contact with the little girl.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Please, my name is Suki, call me that.”
“Okay Miss Suki.”
Suki seemed like she was about to correct the girl, but continued on. “This story has sadly been lost to time. Some tried to tell it, but it was never written, and all those who knew the oral story forgot to tell it. Including me.” Suki took a deep, remorseful breath before starting her exposition . “I was a member of Avatar Aang’s team. I traveled with them for awhile. Aang needed a water bending teacher, so we went to the North Pole.”
“The water bending teacher was a…” Suki stopped herself from using the word she was going to. “A prick. But there was a girl there. And she was the most beautiful person I had ever laid eyes on. Sadly, my best friend already had his eyes on her. So I simply didn’t try.”
Suki let out a faint laugh. “If fate hadn’t been a sneaky man I wouldn’t be lamenting this. One night, I couldn’t sleep. I’ve never liked sleeping. And as it turns out, the girl was a sleep walker.” Suki gained a smile on her face that was similar to the one that melted this girl. “I caught her from falling under the bridge and getting wet. She awoke and… it felt as if something connected.”
Suki, for the first time since starting this tale, turned to the young girl. “Now, soulmates are incredibly rare. One in a million people will have a soulmate, and many less will find theirs. But when you do, your souls are tied together, and you gain a permanent mark of theirs.” Suki lifted her sleeve all the way up to her bicep, where two fish swam, one white with black and one black with white. Just like the rug.
“Tui and La. They made it so that this girl was the only one like her. So of course she had a soulmate. Sadly, fate is as evil as he is sneaky.” Suki rolled back down her sleeve, and stared off again.
“We had so little time together, and I feel like we didn’t make the most of it. For, only a month after fate pulled us together, he ripped us apart.” Suki took a shaky breath. “The Fire Nation invaded and killed Tui. Without Tui, the world was thrown out of balance. But, as fate would have it, someone could save everyone. My soulmate saved everyone. But I lost her in the process.”
Suki began to cry, but continued on. “A-and the thing about soulmates is that if they die, a part of you dies with them. And sometimes I wish, so hard, that we weren’t soulmates. That it didn’t feel like a part of my soul is missing.”
Suki was full on sobbing now. “I helped end the war, for her. But I wasn’t happy. The second it ended I returned home and shut myself in, shutting everyone out. And my friends all eventually died too, joined her. But I haven’t. And I’m empty. And I just want her.”
The girl watched the old lady sob, unsure as to what to do. She eased herself up, off the rug, and approached the woman, gifting her a hug.
A child’s hug could be a drug with how good it felt. It could light up a person just with one small gesture. Children were so pure, and this was why Suki fought all those years ago. For the children. That’s why Yue died. For the future generations.
The child was silent until the woman’s sobbing desisted. Then she pulled away and asked, “Is that her?” She pointed at the tapestry. Suki nodded. “She’s pretty! What’s her name?”
Suki took a second to respond. “Yue.”
The girl went silent, and Suki wondered if something was wrong, until she muttered out happily, “That’s my name.”
And Suki cried again. Not tears of sorrow, but of joy. For Yue lived on, unlike she had thought.
That night, knowing her lover’s story would be told, she finally reunited with Yue. They shared a hug amongst the stars, as Suki became a bright star, shining next to the moon.
The little girl named Yue would tell their stories. She went home that night, did the dishes, and wrote the story down. She glanced at the moon and saw the bright star next to it. She named it Suki, and the next day, Suki was gone.
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claybefree · 3 years
Text
Seeing as it's the twentieth anniversary, I guess I should post this again
September Third, Two Thousand and Nine
For years whenever anyone asked me when my son Henry was born I’d start to say September instead of August 25, 2001. Sunday he had his eighth birthday party at his mother’s house, and I stayed here. Most of his mother’s friends don’t care for me much. The feeling is mutual. Tonight coming home from work I started stitching what I’m about to write together in my mind and suddenly got very afraid. I thought for a moment that I was about to go get drunk, which might very likely be death for somebody like me. I was sure I was going to change direction of the truck, that I’d drive the same route I always did back then, that I would stand by the register and stare at the bottle in my hand without really knowing I where I was. I think it has to do with the weather finally changing and perhaps that Henry’s mom and I are no longer together. I sat on the porch of my little house and called a friend and told him all this. He listened and after a while I felt better, which is exactly how these things should go. When we decided we were done he told me I should go in and write all this down.
I worked on through that whole day. Most everybody else on the job had stopped and listened to each of the radios on the different floors or cried. The asshole Turks I was framing a bathroom for wouldn’t let me quit. They had tile to run. I found it made me feel better to keep going anyway. The laborers cussed me when I asked them to move so that I could use the table saw, a natural gathering spot on any job. They seemed to think I was calloused or hard-hearted and it was because I was from Tennessee. It just now occurred to me that maybe they were right.
That afternoon, when it was determined safe to walk across the bridges, most of the job, the other carpenters and trades-people, wandered home to Brooklyn or Queens. Me and the two left to close everything up had it different as we lived in Jersey. Anthony, the boss, was big and red-haired, red faced and lived in Hoboken. Duane was in charge of demolition and waste, was a little shorter and darker, and lived in Secaucus or maybe somewhere west of that I think. They squared off on each other frequently. It always reminded me of two walruses going at it on a beach.
Whenever we went out to the bar afterwards Anthony would have a Bud tall boy in each hand at all times, the waitress would come up with four for him whenever we sat down. On the job we liked to yell at each other, I once told him I was doing him a favor by giving him such an easy target, and he never missed an occasion to oblige me. Duane was a single dad, dark haired with deep sunken yet kind eyes that always seemed to have bags under them. One of the black laborers told him once he was the most Uncle Fester looking motherfucker he had ever seen. I tended to agree.
We locked the job up at four I think, humped it across the park through the smoke to the A-train. There was smoke forming a mist around the trees of central park that day. There were no flower children loitering at Yoko’s “Imagine” monument to barge through. Our thinking was to get downtown to the Path train. We had no idea that two of the stations had been destroyed. It didn’t matter, we were underground fifteen minutes before Anthony vetoed the idea. People were running wild through the stations, on the trains, everything was panic and Oh Fuck and Anthony had no intention of being underground. He had a funny look on his face that I couldn’t figure out. It wouldn't occur to me until later that the big man was very afraid.
In the years since I have always wondered why people have reacted so strongly from that day. Later we would go to war because of a something that happened one day in New York City and this has always seemed really strange to me. I guess what I mean is that I was there and never wanted to kill anybody because of it. Most of the time I just thought it was very strange and sad and mostly just very interesting. I only remember ever crying about it twice. The first time was a few months afterward, I had quit Anthony to stay home with Henry. Part of our routine was to watch Sesame Street. One day in the winter there was a skit where Elmo got very scared because of some smoke and noise that was never identified. I suppose in this case it was a nameless fear. A New York City fireman came on screen and hugged him, told him it was okay to be scared, Elmo, and that everything would be alright. I remember little red furry Elmo hugged the fireman tight. I held Henry in my lap and cried into his fine blonde hair.
It was the fireman that did it. I still get upset when I think about the firemen. I have had a lot of trouble with cops in different times in my life, but I never had a problem with any fireman I ever encountered, drunk or otherwise. They seem to me to be a different animal entirely.
Anthony, Duane and me ran into two firemen on the deck of the cruise boat that carried us across to Weehawken. They came in and collapsed on the painted metal floor, shedding boots and letting their helmets roll away. Some people applauded weakly, others asked questions, they just stared at us and said nothing. It didn’t occur to me until much later they were probably the only ones from their station who lived. Other men that for years they worked with, ate and fought with, got drunk with were dead. There was a bar I frequented in Jersey City a few blocks from our house where a couple of weeks later I saw three firemen in dress uniforms. One was between his partner on a stool and the third who was older and may have been a captain. The captain was clearly upset, swaggering and poking the other two in the chest. Everybody else was trying hard not to pay attention to what seemed about to develop into a fight. I think later I saw the old man leaning against the bar and weeping openly, he must have been sixty at least.
I got drunk in this bar Sept. 10th while my wife and kid slept back home. She’d start nursing and pass out with him and I’d head out to roam. The thing I liked about this place was the Sinatra on the jukebox, so that night I loaded it up and sat at the bar listening. I think it was the first time I’d ever heard “Summer Wind.” The tattooed brunette tending bar must have thought it was cute because she serenaded me, singing along with a couple of the songs. There was another man with a mustache further down the line who was putting the blast on her and didn’t seem to like me much so I got the fuck out early. By “early” I mean I didn’t close the place.
I won’t tell you what we saw on the boat ride across the Hudson, you’ve seen it already. We unloaded at Weehawken and everyone, thousands of high end refugees really, started walking south towards Hoboken where we had been told there were buses waiting to take us home. I noticed that even wearing boots, the three of us walked faster than the others. We were construction workers living and working around Manhattan and we were very good at walking. I remember being comforted by walking with them. Hundreds of buses lined the streets of Hoboken and the three of us walked the length of that town. Anthony broke off about halfway to head home. A couple of weeks later I showed up having laid out drunk for two days and told him I had come for my tools. He looked at me and didn’t say a word. He mailed me my check. I haven’t seen the man since.
Duane and me trudged the rest of Hoboken together. I heard that not soon after I left he was let go to cut costs and that not long after that he got into a bad time with a prostitute on rt. 1 & 9. The smoke in Hoboken was thicker than in the city and the fumes from streets filled with idling buses finally got my hangover to officially kick in. I told Duane about how I’d had “Summer Wind” playing as background music in my head all day. He laughed and began singing the song, each line perfectly. We got through the crowd easily, after hours of walking together we had finally hit a stride together. We were marching, really. There was the giant blue sky of the day broken intermittently by smoke and there was the roar of diesel noise and Hoboken and Duane singing Summer Wind to me; some punk kid from Tennessee who had no business being there.
The only other incident I remember having to cry because of some assholes who decided to fly planes into tall buildings was coming across the Manhattan bridge one night after carrying my sister-in-law home to Park Slope. She would come over most nights to hang out with the baby, and around eleven or so and in various states of sobriety I’d be asked to drive her back home. I never hated the terrorists for invoking a War of Terror, I hated them for causing enough terror that it fucked the roads up. Shit got closed for what seemed no fucking reason whatsoever. One day coming back from the pediatrician’s office, Henry got stuck howling in his car seat for four hours because the Holland Tunnel was handling too much traffic and we were too afraid to take him out of it because of the cops everywhere. My sister-in-law and I spent a lot of time in the Saturn together on the nights I drove her home. I can’t remember what we talked about, probably everything. I haven't spoken to my sister-in-law since I moved out last summer.
This particular night the Brooklyn Bridge was only operating east-bound into Brooklyn so after I dropped her off I was diverted back across the Manhattan Bridge in order to get back into the city and eventually home. The Manhattan Bridge back then was still under renovation and I guess has always been the ugly, cross-eyed cousin of the Brooklyn Bridge. I got stuck on it, moving slower than shit, and staring at trash and old faded plywood encasing the little bit of wrought iron and Neo-Classical elements that were left up by the arch. Off to the left t seemed as though the entirety of Downtown was illuminated from the work lights that were set up down by Ground Zero. Downtown glowed with lights that were set up to look for people that weren’t there anymore. The DJ on WFMU that night was playing a super slowed down cover of the B-52’s Song for a Future Generation. If you’ve heard it, you’ve probably laughed, it’s a ridiculously chirpy pop song. I’ve always loved it. The lyrics go a little like this:
Wanna be the ruler of the galaxy
Wanna be the king of the universe
Let`s meet and have a baby now
In between each stanza, the different members give spoken-word tidbits of information about themselves. For example Ricky, the original guitarist, was a Pisces and “loved computers and hot tamales.“ Ricky also died from AIDS back in 1985 when people still had no idea what the disease was.
The version I heard that night had slowed the tempo to that of a blues song. The dip-shit ironic hipster that sang it reflected this. Stuck on the bridge it felt as though I was listening to a lament. What reduced me to tears, smoking Winstons in my little Saturn station wagon, was the feeling that whatever was left of innocence had recently been or was about to be brutally murdered by pig-face, ignorant men. Wanna be the first lady of infinity. Wanna be the nicest guy on earth. Let's meet and have a baby now.
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