Molly kept him around till he was ‘oh his feet again’. So it was a shame that Remus tripped over so much. He regretted not contacting the Weasleys again. But every time he fell, got kicked out of a job, or tried to push his mind away with alcohol it felt as though he was throwing away their kindness with both hands. So Remus stayed away. Kept away. He didn’t see the Weasleys again for years.
—
Some days it’s fine. The walls in his head — or rather, some shambles of a picket fence as he now recognised them— seem to hold up. The flashes of that someone could be kept at bay.
From time to time he could even afford a morning sat in the damp kitchen of a rundown cottage, flicking through the newspaper, watching birds flit across the sky.
The head of the pack from his last days in the war, he read, was apparently a high ranking ministry official now. Runcorn, he called himself. Remus sipped his tea.
—
There were yet days he yielded to the bottle, and inevitably allowed the past to slip through the fences. Through the confused dimness of his inebriated mind, Sirius would be there, residing invariably in the most painful corners, making a mocking of his hope to ever run from this tether. Eventually, Remus stopped wondering how much of this was a manifestation of his guilt-ridden yearning; started being able to utter his name; started accepting, and almost relishing the flashes though they never ceased to feel like stabs to his chest.
—
When he saw the Hogwarts advert for a Defence professor the third year in a row, he got in touch with Dumbledore. It was a joke of an attempt, really. For too many reasons, he should have stuck to helping the children in Knockturn, who hadn’t a chance of seeing the walls of Hogwarts.
Though in spite of everything, it was how he found himself sitting again across from Dumbledore at his claw-footed desk, slowly finding his walls falling apart once more.
“You must understand, I certainly don’t find you incompetent. There may be a more critical time when I may need your assistance, Remus.”
“Voldemort is dead.” He said flatly.
“In a certain sense, that is true, yes. But our fight is far from over.”
“And that means I’m a card you’re shelving until further notice?”
Dumbledore leaned forward, “We cannot afford to take any chances. Voldemort’s power is yet palpable, the curse on the position remains.”
“You can’t afford to waste a chess piece on an unplanned step.”
“All metaphors are as apt as they are self-fulfilling, Remus.” He said after a strained silence, “you’ll find a chess game is not how I perceive it.”
But there was no room in his head to squint for humanity in his old man’s grand game, his bigger pictures. Because there was only the ringing of him finally realising how much this man tried to control. How well he played this game.
“You knew exactly what you were doing in ending the war.” Remus said lucidly, stunned, “you let Voldemort be directed to one specific target and allowed them to be— to—”
Remus couldn’t go on. Dumbledore looked steadily back at him. He didn’t speak to deny anything, eyes stony and calm. Remus knew the words that those eyes silently spoke: ‘what would have been the cost otherwise, Remus?’ ‘Would you rather not one— or two— die instead of thousands?’ And he could no longer bear the cold calculus of lives pitted against each other. He was chilled to the bone, more helpless than he had felt in years.
—
In some ways he’d always suspected that Dumbledore created a Remus Lupin as some sort of gateway to the other side. But what about the rest of them? Was Dumbledore a mastermind enough? Did Dumbledore create a Sirius Black just so he could be planted to betray the Potters and end the war?
He passed by a pub on the way back to the latest ramshackle flat. It had been so long since he’d succumbed.
An old, familiar image through his mind, perhaps Sirius had also been lied to, it said. And he felt his resolve starting to come apart.
—
The images get to him, more clearly than ever. He’s too tired, his mind too loosened, to try and block him out now. Maybe this once, he’ll watch it play out, and face the consequences in the morning.
But this time, the same sequences kept repeating. There was no cacophony, only one strain of argument. A street. A rat. An explosion, again and again. The street, the rat, the explosion.
—
There was something in the magical world that everyone knew but Remus never believed. Something about soulmates, their connection— the Connection, in fact, it was called, by some uninspired convention having gotten stuck.
The Connection was the mark of a soulmate. It was nothing as garish as a mark on the forehead, but behind it through the mind. A trickle of thoughts and moods that opened the day you turned twenty one, that could grow into a canal as you grow to become so fine tuned with each other. Not everyone has a soulmate; not everyone could hear the voice of their soulmate. Not everyone listen to their soulmate. It matured under care, wilted with neglect, but never died. This was no linking randomers-at-different-ends-of-the-world, neither was it the universe telling you who to have sex with or the other half you’ve always needed. No, it was merely another person, whom you almost always come to know before you learn about being each other’s soulmates; but with whom you could grow to sing a duet of the souls.
—
Remus had always assumed there wasn’t enough human in him for there to be a soulmate. But for the first time in his life, it occurred to Remus that possibly—
It wasn’t his own treacherous imagination Remus had been fighting with in his mind. It was Sirius all along.
The Connection opened when you turned twenty one, not a day earlier. Settled in when you’ve both turned twenty one. Remus remembered November 1981, the day he’d first become acquainted with the voice that’d dominated his moments of drunken frenzy for years, that he’d been blocking out and inviting ever since the start.
There was no room to panic. Remus tried to find the soul-shaped string in the depth of his mind, that’s been there growing unbeknownst to perhaps either of them— when he did, it was such a familiar cacophony of anger and pain and he finally understood. It’s been binding them together in the dementor-clad despair, disguising the truth— despite how the word innocent always rang out— as mere tricks of the mind. Without realising, Remus’ thoughts were running down the line towards the other end of the Connection. Then this voice in his head— Sirius’ voice, as it appeared— that had always been nothing less than a turmoil, was quieting down.
-3 TROLLS:(2 on the go, 1 complete) -1 SLUGTERRA: (on the go). I will update this post as I add new stories.
The Long Road To True Happiness (Branch x Poppy)
How would Broppy have developed if Chef never found Troll Village? Here’s my take on it! Upbeat Princess Poppy has finally found a way to convince grumpy loner Branch to give friendship a try! It doesn’t involve her usual tactics of befriending someone, but it just might work to cheer him up! Easy as pie, right? He’ll be smiling and laughing and singing in no time… right?
Shane Gang Adventures: The Fifth Member (Kord x my OC, Eli x Trixie)
A month after the events of Into the Shadows, Tad Blakk’s betrayal is in the past, and the 99 Caverns of Slugterra have remained generally peaceful and uneventful. But when a seemingly simple mission goes dangerously wrong, the Shane Gang meet an exotic newcomer who will change their lives forever.
Summary:When Sizhui, Jingyi, and Zizhen are captured with Jin Ling at the Guanyin Temple, they’re sure that Hanguang Jun and Wei Wuxian will fix everything - until Su She stabs Lan Wangji through the stomach, and everything falls apart around them. In a last, frantic attempt to undo the damage Jin Guangyao has done, Wei Wuxian activates a deadly array to send the four juniors back in time, sending them to the morning of Jin Ling’s one-month celebration. With the fate of everyone and everything they love in their hands, Sizhui, Jin Ling, Zizhen and Jingyi race to prevent the ambush at Qiongqi Pass and the subsequent fallout, but Jin Guangyao has returned from the future as well, and he has no intention of letting what he wants fall through his hands a second time.
My comments: Okay, wow, this was so epic, it’s hard to break down. The gist of it is that the four juniors get sent back in time from a moment of utter tragedy and overwhelming loss to fix the future. So they’re all pretty fucking traumatized from the get-go. (Future Jin Guangyao is a complete and terrifying psychopath.)
If I had to pick 3 tags to describe the story it’d be WHUMP, H/C and BONDING. So, author doesn’t hold back on the violence, which I fully endorse and devour. (I might have rated this one an M, actually, just for graphic violence and stressful situations.)Everyone gets a turn to be utterly beat up if not straight up tortured. POV is multiple, and that includes everyone (I never expected to admire and empathize with Jin Zixuan so much!). BUT, before you run away screaming, know that there is soooo much comfort and healing and bonding going on, throughout whatever the current trauma is (there are many) as well as after. I did a quick search, and there are 102 uses of “I love you”, and it’s not limited to wangxian. wwx says it to jiang cheng and a-yuan and all the poor time-travelling teens who have just lost everything and everyone in their entire worlds and suddenly are only a few years younger than their ‘fathers’. The juniors say it to each other and their dads. jyl says it to everyone. the lan bros say it, the nie brothers say it. Everybody is just so fucking supportive and trying so hard and they just have faced what a world could be like if they DON’T communicate, and so by god, they’re not gonna go that route, and also, no one’s gonna let them forget it.
I really, really loved how all the time travelers latched onto their 'parents’ and the relationships that they grew: with them, with their families and with their itty bitty counterparts. It highlighted the Juniors’ innocence (and trauma) to be compared to people only a few years older and yet so much more mature and experienced because of having been through the war.
So. An epic, plotty, TASTY time travel fix it that features everyone and the way they all fit into each other’s lives, getting into situations that are truly terrifying that have NO EXIT, being hurt and watching it happen to people you love, and lots of escapes-by-the-skin-of-their-teeth-and-please-god-are-they-still-breathing. It’s an excellent and satisfying balance.
time travel, fix it, angst, whump, captivity, hostage situations, threat of torture, hurt everybody, temporary character death, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, tearjerker, feels, you will cry, self-sacrifice, POV multiple, adorable juniors, traumatized juniors, adorable a-yuan, qiongqi path ambush canon divergence, family feels, future reveal, jin zixuan lives, jiang yanli lives, wen remnants live, golden core reveal, found family, jiang sibling feels, pining, idiots in love, love confessions, first kiss, cuddling & snuggling, platonic cuddling, qi deviation, golden core surgery, baby golden core, wei wuxian is a good dad, lan wangji is a good dad, communication, nightmares, PTSD, panic attacks, wedding, adoption, cynophobia, wei wuxian’s fear of dogs, puppy therapy, healing, recovery, fix it, epic, parent-child relationship, father-son relationship, happy ending, favorite
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Summary:Lan Sizhui meets a servant on a night hunt at Mo Manor. Though this servant has a rather plain-looking, forgettable face, Lan Sizhui quickly learns why one should never judge a book by its cover. –or– After being resurrected by the rather plain-looking, gap-toothed Li Wenxiao, Wei Wuxian has to contend with constant dismissals of his skill and intelligence. Luckily for him, Hanguang-Jun is willing to stand by his side no matter what. If only Wei Wuxian could figure out why…
My comments: ❤️This was written for my art-prompt and I love it SO. MUCH. The idea of wwx resurrecting as a homely woman has haunted me for years, because there’s such fertile ground there to explore. And Eudoxia did it with verve. This fic has everything: unexpectedly-female wwx, humor, adorable juniors, utterly smitten and thirsty lwj, philosophy on gender, shameless wangxian…. And more coming up in the series! (Which is great, because I cannot get enough!)
Excerpt 1:“So polite, Lan-gongzi. This one is called Li Wenxiao. Just call me whatever, I don’t mind. In fact, most people I meet call me gongzi or xiansheng, on account of my face!” She laughs, pointing a finger at her bright smile.
Lan Sizhui frowns, studying her face for a moment. It’s a very plain, boring face; round cheeks, a bit of a second chin when she smiles, thick eyebrows, peach blossom eyes. There’s a small but noticeable gap between her two front teeth when she smiles. Overall, a rather forgettable face. Lan Sizhui can’t help but think it’s a little tragic that a young woman—perhaps only ten years his senior—would be unlucky enough to have such a face.
Excerpt 2:Lan Jingyi grabs his arm, shaking him as he hisses, “What do you mean you don’t know? Look at how familiar they are! Hanguang-jun is guiding Li Wenxiao’s donkey! He may as well be,”—Lan Jingyi struggles for words, waving his arms in the air like he’s juggling, before he finally says—“caressing her face! I don’t know! Who isshe?”
canon divergence, resurrected as a girl, wei wuxian comes back as a girl, POV multiple, female wei wuxian, adorable juniors, teacher wei wuxian, (not officially but he is SUCH a teacher), lan sizhui is the best boy, gender and philosophy, oblivious wei wuxian, genderqueer wei wuxian, shameless lan wangji, demisexual lan wangji, some very light and well-earned lan xichen bashing, light angst, thirsty lan wangji, pining, love confessions, getting together, idiots in love, doting lan wangji, het smut, favorite, @eudoxiav @mdzsrbb
T, 15k, lan sizhui & lan wangji, lan wangji & lan xichen, lan wangji & madam lan, wangxian
Summary:Banished from the Lan Sect after Wei Wuxian’s death, an unexpected revelation sets Lan Wangji on a new path.
My comments: Lovely peek into what an exiled lan wangji would do (it’s still waaaay better than the 33 lashes!). He takes a-yuan and wanders for a while, but has a tip that his mother might still be alive, so heads towards the general area she might be found. Meanwhile, he strengthens his bond with his new son and learns a new way to be in the world. Mom, when he finds her, is pretty great.
lan wangji is banished, lan wangji nopes out of the lan sect, 13 years, cut hair, shorn hair, grief/mourning, parent-child relationship, healing, feels, character study, rogue cultivator lan wangji, madam lan, lan wangji’s mother, rogue cultivator madam lan, family feels, exiled lan wangji, POV lan wangji, canon divergence, madam lan lives, happy ending, @ahlaishepherd
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Summary:When Jiang Yanli joins Jiang Cheng in visiting Wei Wuxian at the Burial Grounds, the two brothers are on the verge of cutting ties forever — until Jiang Yanli has a better idea. Wei Wuxian doesn’t need to leave the sect. He needs to get married, and she has the perfect Sect Leader in mind.
When Lan Wangji is invited to come along on Wei Wuxian’s visit to the Unclean Realm to spend time with his new betrothed, Nie Mingjue, he agrees — even though his heart is breaking. How else is he ever going to see Wei Wuxian again?
When Nie Mingjue welcomes Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji into his home, he realizes two things very quickly: 1.) They clearly want each other so badly they can barely stand it, and 2.) Nie Mingjue is Into That.
(In which arranged marriage to Nie Mingjue solves just about everyone’s problems)
My comments: Aahhh, this was a ship I never realized I needed in my life, but here we are. Author does it so well: in the context of the story, not only is it robust and believable, but it’s honest and loving and fun for all three of them. And if, in the process, the course of canon is changed such that everyone lives and the world is a brighter, happier place, than so be it. (Of course, there’s some angst and intrigue and machinations to get through first, but that’s requisite seasoning, imho.)
(Seriously. I’m very jealous and protective of my OTP wangxian, so it has to be a pretty special story if I’m willing and happy to share them with someone else. However, remember that your mileage may vary.)
canon divergence, OT3, niewangxian, raiarranged marriage, angst, pining, jealousy, but only briefly, POV multiple, courting, nie mingjue just says I’ll marry both of ‘em, flirting, golden core reveal, first kiss, first time, top nie mingjue, bottom wei wuxian, poor lan wangji has to wait a few months, fix it, domestic, friends to lovers, polyamory, fluff, xiyao, sect politics, jiggy being morally gray, sooo much threesome smut, light dom/sub, dom nie mingjue, dom lan wangji, sub wei wuxian, nie sect qi deviation issues, tenderness, joy, everybody lives, jin guangyao redemption, he’s a really interesting character, wen qing doing all the arcane and impossible medical procedures, happy ending, epic, podfic available, @giraffeter
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G (maybe a very soft T for making out), 82k, wangxian, marked as incomplete, but it feels wrapped up tight, so ignore that
Summary: Alternate Universe - Jiang Fengmian never adopts Wei Ying.
Lan Zhan meets Wei Ying as a beggar on the street and convinces Lan Qiren to allow him to come live in the Cloud Recesses.
Lan Zhan and Wei Ying grow up together as best friends. Nothing has really changed, but everything is different.
My comments: A soft story wherein the Lans take in homeless wei ying and he and his lan zhan grow up together, tightly entwined. We get glimpses of their earlier childhood, pass through the cloud recesses study arc (look at lan wangji making friends! and being stoically amused by intimidating nie huaisang, who had the audacity to sneak liquor into his cup). There is light angst and pining, before they figure themselves out, but the wen attack and sunshot campaign bring them to a new understanding.
child wei wuxian, child lan wangji, in which wwx goes to gusu as a child, adopted by the Lans, non-yunmeng wei wuxian, friendship, different first meeting, POV multiple, growing up together, light angst, pining, students at cloud recesses, lan wangji has friends, oblivious wei wuxian, feelings realization, getting together, love confessions, attack on cloud recesses, sunshot campaign, fix it, soft, fluff, first time, fade to black
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Nobody tagged me in the “show your top 3 Additional Tags on ao3” meme, but I’ve seen enough people say “consider yourself tagged to CONSIDER MYSELF TAGGED, so:
Canon divergence: hell yeah
First kiss: yup sounds right
Food: …food? What the— :eyes Eric Richard Bittle, cheerfully stress-baking his way through life: yeah okay. Food.
“The queen should just slaughter us all. At least we’re relieved of the burden of protecting a kingdom that would reward our failures by taking the only light of our lives,” she said, biting her lip. “Each time I believe I have done what is good, the people I’m supposed to protect await punishment.”
“I will not let her do this. You know that, don’t you?”
“I have no reason to doubt you, Jaime. But do you think you’re enough?” She turned to him then, revealing tears on her cheeks. “On one side is the dragon queen. She will not hesitate to burn us all. Your sister on the other. What makes you think she will forgive you?”
Okay, level with me here. When Jane Chatwin set the timeloops, it was at a time when our heroes were young adults and attending (or about to attend) Brakebills.
However, her brother had been going to the wellspring to drink from it every day since he found it, and with every one of those drinks, he grew more powerful. So by the time the group is in place to fight him, he has already become very powerful.
So what if, in one of the timelines where Jane changes one thing to see if this one works, she calls upon Quentin sooner? Like, teen aged Quentin, sooner?
14/15 year old Quentin Coldwater becomes the youngest student to attend Brakebills ever (there is some heavy magic involved with getting his father to sign off on this, or something). However, it’s only Quentin, Fogg and Jane can’t get the rest of the gang as well, for various reasons.
So Q has to face the Beast with a different group of Brakebills students. Most of which don’t matter, because they die fighting Martin (which absolutely adds to Quentin’s trauma, by the way). But three of which are Josh Hoberman, Marina Andrieski, and Charlie Quinn. (I’m messing with the ages of these characters a little, because Charlie wasn’t that much older than Alice as he would need to be here.) And Viktoria (the traveler that Martin held in his dungeon and who was together with Josh)
Josh becomes the High King of Fillory. Due to the age difference, he kinda views Q like a little brother.
Even Marina has a bit of a soft spot for Quentin, even if she doesn’t want to admit it.
Charlie, probably due to Quentin being the same age as his little sister, becomes the most protective, and tries to take the beast on himself, to shield Q from this kind of responsibility. Like Alice when she fought Martin, the magic becomes too much for Charlie, and he niffin’s out. Again, like Alice, Niffin Charlie then kills the beast, When Charlie tries to kill the others, Victoria manages to travel everyone to safety, but is fatally wounded and dies shortly after.
So, anyway, Niffin Charlie is in the wind, Josh stays in Fillory to be High King with his wife Fen, and Marina and Quentin return to earth. (Maybe all this contributes to Marina hating Brakebills and Fogg in particular so much, and becoming the top bitch of New Yorks covens.)
The experience has left a deep fucking mark on a far too young for this Quentin, and he turns his back on Brakebills and Fillory and Magic as much as he can.
Now, forward a few years to the time when the others are all in Brakebills finally. (Julia too. Because there is no longer a reason not to admit her) (Julia is also curious if she can find some kind of magic to hopefully find out what happened to her childhood friend Quentin, who had just fucking vanished one day and never come back. The police just filed him as a run away. No even his father knows what happened to him, it’s all very mysterious…)
Alice, just like in the series, is there in the hopes to find out what happened to her brother.
Anyway, the group encounters some kind of problem, because of course they do. (Reynard, some other godly being, magic becoming unstable, or something that looks like the beast, but that can’t be because Martin is dead!!, just some kind of fuckery that they have to deal with)
And of course the answer to the problem lies in Fillory. Unfortunately, the only people who know how to get to Fillory, are the ones who have been there before. (And, technically Jane should know too, but maybe she wants to try to make things up to Quentin, and hopes that if the group has to work with him on this, that they can help him find his love and passion for magic and Fillory once more) - or maybe she just fucked off after Martin was killed.
Fogg, who does not want to burden Quentin any more than they have already done, seeks out Marina first. But she absolutely refuses to help. Fogg even tries appealing to her soft spot for Q, reminding her that if she doesn’t tell them how to get to Fillory, then they have to rope ‘him’ into this. However, turns out you need a royal key to open the portal to Fillory. Which Josh gave to Quentin, hoping the kid would come back to visit and let Josh and Fen help him through all the bad experiences.
Marina only very reluctantly tells them where to go (she was the one who helped Quentin vanish from his old life in the first place, faked a new identity for him or something. Brian? - They have stayed in contact)
So, when Quentin Coldwater one day opens his door to the sight of Dean Henry Fogg and five people approximately his age, plus his once best friend Julia, the real story begins.
(also, when they do get to Fillory, Josh doesn’t need to have aged too much. Fillory and earth are not always on the same timeline, after all. ;-) )
Written for @gameofdrarry Drarropoly ‘21: International Version, the prompt is – Draco is missing and the Aurors aren’t doing anything about it because of his Death Eater background.
Title: Don’t Take My Sunshine Away Rating:T WC: 828 Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Horcrux Hunting, Malfoy Manor (Harry Potter), Established Relationship, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Torture, Blood and Injury Summary:When Draco is captured by the Death Eaters, Harry is willing to move heaven and earth to rescue him from the clutches of the Dark Lord.
—
Harry woke up to voices. What he was told chilled him to the bone; Draco was missing .
AfterReparo-ing the glass his accidental burst of magic had shattered, he turned to Tonks.
“What do you mean by ‘we can’t find him’?”
“Harry… Draco is a Death Eater. The Aurors cannot, in good faith, search for him.”
“Draco Malfoy may have Voldemort’s mark on his arm, but he’s on our side. Need I remind you who stayed up nights with Hermione, researching the Horcruxes? Don’t you remember him saving my life in the Ministry?”
Harry was enraged. Why didn’t these people realise that Draco was as instrumental in the downfall of Voldemort as Harry himself?
“You know what, here’s the deal.” He addressed the room at large. “I will fight withDraco, or not at all.” Ignoring their gobsmacked expressions, he turned to Hermione.
(of a ghost) manifest itself at (a place) regularly.
“a ghost who haunts the farmhouse”
(of a person or animal) frequent (a place).
“he haunts the barn”
be persistently in the mind of (someone).
“the sight has haunted me for years”
be persistently and disturbingly present in (something).
“I am haunted by his shadow”
What is the definition of a haunting?
It begins like this: between one day and the next, an intruder appears in their house. It begins like this: their home, between rolling hills and poppies, is now haunted.
——
Come check out chapter one of my time traveling ghost fic!! Right now it’s soft, but heed those tags!
It’s loud and all-encompassing and it expels Rey out of the passionate kiss she’s sharing with her prisoner.
The slick oily darkness she’s come to associate with her Master oozes inside her mind as she’s summoned through their psychic link forged over many years of use.
Kiss broken, the obsidian gaze that stares back at her is filled with pain and worry.
“What was that?" her ward pleads, eyes searching hers, shoulders curling forward and trembling hands still grasping onto her.
Pursing her lips in thought, she gives an almost imperceptible shake of her head with narrowed eyes.
"You heard that?” she quizzes. How could he have possibly heard her Master’s voice in her head?
*****
Yes! This story has been resurrected from its 2-year hiatus! New chapters are being worked on now.
ClickHERE for Chap 5, Click HEREto start from the beginning.
Summary: Xerxes falls and the only two survivors walk away from the dead city.
Homunculus is keen to make the most of the new human body he now wears, and he goes out into the world, still planning his ascension to godhood as he strips away his vices and turns them into homunculi.
Van Hohenheim believes he has become a monster, and he hides himself away, befriending the other abominations of the world, failed human transmutations doomed to agonising half-life without the intervention of a Philosopher’s Stone.
Years later, Homunculus meets Trisha Elric and sires two sons with her before vanishing into the night, whilst Hohenheim tries to foil his doppelgänger’s schemes.
Years after that, Edward and Alphonse Elric are caught up in the middle of it all…
A Father-Hohenheim role reversal switcheroo, following Mangahood’s main plot with elements of ‘03, based on the premise ‘what if Father was Ed and Al’s father and Hohenheim was the one hiding under Central?’
If it wasn’t for the stranger, Ed reflected, he might be dead. Staring up at the cloudless sky above Resembool, he remembered the mysterious figure who’d appeared during their altercation with Scar in Eastern City. They had only been there for a minute or so and they had disappeared as soon as the military had arrived; vanishing as quickly as they had come onto the scene as they dashed into the darkness of the alleyway they had jumped out of in the first place. Still, their presence had been enough to turn the tide, levelling the playing field and distracting Scar for long enough to allow Mustang and the others to come and take charge.
They hadn’t been an alchemist, at least, Ed hadn’t seen them use alchemy, but they were fast, and they were strong, and as Ed had looked on in a haze of pain and panic and my arm is destroyed and I have no defence and I’m about to die, he had caught a glimpse of their face beneath their hood - a sharp, angular, youthful face, with messy blonde hair.
The thing that struck Ed most, though, were the eyes.
“You’re thinking about the stranger again, aren’t you?”
Ed glanced sideways at Al, then looked back at the sky with a sigh.
“Yeah, I guess I am. I just can’t get over the eyes, you know? I’ve never seen anyone with our colour eyes before. Apart from, you know. Him.”
“Yeah.” Al gave a long sigh. “Do you think…” He trailed off, but Ed could follow the train of thought. He didn’t press the point, letting Al come round to it eventually. “Do you think they might be related to us? I mean, if our father had other children, then perhaps…”
Ed really didn’t want to think about it. It wasn’t that he was averse to the idea of having more family members, although it was a very strange concept to consider when his family had consisted of just Al and Mom for as long as he could remember. He just didn’t want to think about his father for any length of time. Especially not about where he might have gone, what he might have done, and whom he might have done it with. Ed didn’t even remember his father, he’d left that long ago. Hell, Al had never even met the man; he’d vanished into the ether whilst Mom had still been pregnant with him.
“Granny kept that photo, you know,” Al said presently, and Ed sat bolt upright.
“What?”
“That photo of our father, the one that Mom always kept. Granny snuck it before we burned the house.” Al paused, contemplative. “I think she wanted to keep it in case he ever showed up again so she wouldn’t forget what he looked like and she could beat him up.”
Ed snorted. “She’d have to wait in line.”
They fell back into silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts.
“Would you want to meet them?”
Ed raised an eyebrow. “Who, our potential half-sibling?”
“Yes. And any other potential half-siblings that might be out there.”
“I don’t want to think about us having any half-siblings at all, let alone more than one.” Ed scoffed. “Still, I suppose we could bond over weird eye colour and terrible fathers.”
“I think it would be interesting to meet them.” Al continued to muse. “Maybe they might be able to tell us more about him.”
“Maybe. I don’t want to know more about him, though. I know all I need to know. He left when I was tiny and you weren’t even born. He left Mom on her own with a toddler whilst she was pregnant. That’s all I know and all I want to know. I don’t care about anything else.”
“I know. A part of me feels the same way, but then, there’s a part of me that keeps asking why. Why did he leave?”
“Because he was an asshole.”
“Well, yeah, I guess. He never said anything to Mom, did he?”
“Nope. She woke up one morning and he’d vanished. It was like he was never there.”
“He saw, he conquered, he came, and then he buggered off.” Ed turned sharply on hearing Granny’s voice. “I thought you might be talking about him. Al told me about the mysterious friend who saved your skins.”
She held out the small snapshot as she came towards them, and Ed took it, passing it to Al without looking at it. It was the only photo of their father that existed, and despite everything, Mom had always kept it. It wasn’t out of any sentimental value, not really. She’d kept it more as a reminder of everything he’d done, leaving her high and dry with two children and no explanation.
She’d never liked to talk about him all that much, but sometimes she’d told them stories of the mysterious man who’d turned up out of the blue one day and swept her off her feet, a man with hair and eyes like the sun and brilliant alchemy to match. Sometimes Ed wondered if his and Al’s dabbling in alchemy had ever caused her pain to think of the memories of before they were born. She’d never shown anything but pride in their work, but it must have been a reminder every time they transmuted something.
“Well, if this mysterious friend is related to that bastard, then it sounds like they’ve certainly inherited the disappearing act genes.” Granny sighed. “You know, I can’t decide whether you chasing this thread would be a good idea or a bad one. There are big warning signs flashing everywhere I look; the same warning signs that started flashing when he came to town and began wooing Trisha in the first place. I always feel like I should have been able to do more to protect her, but if there’s one thing that can be said of your mother, she was a determined woman. You definitely get your stubbornness from her.”
Here Granny gave Ed a pointed look. “There’s a part of me that wants to just let the whole thing stay buried. He caused enough trouble when he was around, I don’t want him causing you two even more trouble now that he’s not around. At the same time, though, there’s another part of me that thinks maybe it would be good to find some more of his relatives.”
“We’ll be careful,” Ed said. “Whatever happens. Besides, we’ve got other threads to chase.” He thought of Dr Marcoh and his research hidden in Central Library, the key to the Philosopher’s Stone and potentially the key to getting their bodies back. That was far more important than chasing after potential half-siblings via their errant father.
Granny raised an eyebrow. “Hmm.”
“We have got other threads to chase!” Ed protested. “We have a new lead on the Philosopher’s Stone.”
“That wasn’t what I had an issue with,” Granny said dryly. “It was the ‘we’ll be careful’ part. I’ve never known two people less careful. I know you don’t do it intentionally, but I swear one of these days, you’re going to get yourselves into something that’s going to give me a heart attack.”
Al laughed. “Nothing could phase you enough to give you a heart attack, Granny.”
“You just keep believing that.” Granny snorted. “Anyway, Winry’s just finishing up with your arm, Ed. She should be ready in a few minutes. Then you can head off on whatever madcap adventure comes next.”
She left them alone once more, going back up to the house, and Ed fell to thinking again. Finding the Philosopher’s Stone was their first priority, and nothing would change that. Still… Even though Ed didn’t really have any desire to find any potential family members, not like Al did, he couldn’t help but be intrigued by the stranger. There was something about them that really wasn’t normal, something in their speed and agility that seemed… off. And how had they known that Ed and Al were in trouble and needed help anyway? It wasn’t like they were just passing by on the street, not when everywhere was so empty due to the rain and not when they’d appeared out of nowhere. Although Ed hadn’t been paying attention at the time, the more that he thought about it now that he had the leisure to do so, the more he came to the conclusion that the stranger had appeared and helped them purposefully. They’d known that he and Al were in trouble and needed someone to buy them just a few precious minutes.
It was still troubling though, and just as Granny had described, Ed could see the warnings flashing too. Why had they run off when the military had arrived? Why not stick around to make sure that Scar was incapacitated and that he and Al were all right? He couldn’t deny that the stranger had certainly helped them, and probably saved their lives, but they likely had their own agenda just as much as Scar did, even if Ed and Al weren’t currently on the wrong side of it.
He pushed the thought to the back of his mind, determined to focus on their mission in Central and the Philosopher’s Stone instead. He was sure that their meeting had not been a coincidence, and he wondered if they’d cross paths again, but that was a bridge they would cross when they came to it. They had more important things to think about right now.
He still couldn’t get those golden eyes out of his head, though.
X
“You know we’re not supposed to intervene like that. You’ve been at this far longer than I have, you know that secrecy is everything.”
“I know, but I had to. I didn’t think that the military would turn up in time and someone had to stop the poor kid from being exploded. Besides, it’s the Elrics. I can’t just leave them to their fates.”
Note: Just a quick (okay, 5K “quick”…) canon divergence of Emma rescuing Killian from falling into the river (in 5x14). Because there wasn’t enough torture :p Big thx to @spartanguard the amazing beta-ing ♥
There’s no special warning tho be ready for some hurt-confort bloody pirate
_________________________________
Emma ran down the rocky path, the voice of Milah still echoing in her head. She would take care of Rumple, make sure the boat would still be there once they’re back. Because there was no way Emma would walk back to the surface without Killian by her side.
Favorite things: (besides all of it…) Biting his own shoulder rather than scream in front of Emma, Emma being there to see the worst of his suffering, Killian breaking down while she holds him, smile turning into a WINCE eeeeee I love that, the dust sticking to the blood :D, asking Emma to hit him!!!!! and knock him out so she can move him faster babiesssss, the rat attack to just heap on more misery, and well, all of it! :DDDD
When Gwi-nam grabbed and stretched out Cheong-san´s arm, he was sure it was over for him. It restricted his movements; his other hand was held firmly as well. The bully sniffed his arm and Cheong-san prepared for the pain. His last thoughts went out to On-jo, who he couldn´t see because he was held with his back facing the group.
I had an intense hankering for Morrigan and a Female Warden, so happy Pride Month everybody!!
Word Count: 1827 Rating: Smut (18+) Warnings: Pregnancy mention(s), light teasing, bickering, AFAB lesbian sex
Samara Cousland was a woman of refined birth. She came from one of the oldest houses of Ferelden, and had been trained to be a perfect lady, and a perfect warrior. She was beautiful, in face and figure and personality, and her smile brought light to the dreariest of days.
Morrigan was none of these things.
She had been told she was beautiful, once, but that had been from Samara, and Morrigan still didn’t know if she could trust the many, many compliments she received from the naive lady. She tried to believe them but…she was crass, and blunt, and angry - gods, she was always angry. It was easier that way, to pretend like nothing was alright in the world because, really, what good could possibly outweigh what was to come.
Instead, she minds her place. She distances herself from the group, eats only what she is given, and speaks only when something relevant crosses her mind. She isn’t here to make friends with these people - she is here to end whatever it is mother has planned. She has a role to play.
It reminds her of the games Samara invites her to play - to “pass the time and keep you sane”. She had to admit, trivial little games were easier to think about than bedding the oaf Alistair and bearing his child, and then Samara couldface the archdemon and…
Morrigan couldn’t consider that. She asks Samara to set the board again instead.
Samara beat her every time - it was almost another one of their little rituals. The party would return from whatever little quest they went on, Samara would pass out the little gifts and trinkets she found wherever they went. She would eat, she would bathe, and she would pass stories round the fire until she made her way to Morrigan, giving her confident smiles.
She moves pawns around the board with such confidence. Morrigan doesn’t understand how she can change the world like she does, affecting so many lives for the better. She almost resents her for it, the way she bandages every knee and acts as a martyr for all the hopeless dreamers. Instead, she watches as she moves a knight.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Samara says, a smile in her voice. She crosses her legs at the knee, resting her elbow on her thigh and her chin in her hand, “Do I have something on my face?”
“‘Tis that stupid little grin below your nose.” Morrigan retorts immediately, moving her piece. She sees it after she moves, that she can steal the piece.
She does. “Oh, you love it.”
Morrigan just watches her a moment, admiring her…well, all of her, really. She’s a beautiful woman, strong from lugging around a sword and shield day in and day out. Alistair had called her a desert bloom, offered a rose he’d carried in his pocket for weeks. Samara had accepted it with the grace of a friend, quietly disclosing to Alistair that she was, in fact, only attracted to women.
Morrigan had overheard.
Her mother had always convinced her that there were places in the world - there were pawns and kings, and they had their queens. Two queens on the same side of the board would completely ruin the game, the entire dynamic completely null with one slight change.
But Morrigan couldn’t help but wonder. If two queens, on the same side of the board, surrounded by their army of knights and bishops and pawns, if they really needed a king to dictate the ending of the game. Or, perhaps, if the king were the equal of a bishop, or a pawn - a player in the game, but not the equal party.
“You look a million miles away.” Samara says, fist on her cheek, “Come on, what’s bothering you?”
“What?” Morrigan fakes a scoff, “Nothing, I’m waiting for you to take your turn.”
Samara arches a brow, “Well, my dear, you would be mistaken. It’s your turn.” She puts on a lopsided little smile, and Morrigan blushes, clearing her throat and moves another piece - does a bishop move like that?
If it doesn’t, Samara doesn’t comment on it. “Now, what had you so distracted from our little game?” She looks over the board, pondering her next move.
Morrigan looks at Samara, almost with a sense of urgency, and Samara must sense it, ignoring the board. “Alistair approached me while your party was away.”
“Are you two arguing again?” Samara asks, completely used to their childish antics. “What’s caused it this time?”
Morrigan clears her throat, “Alistair has suggested that he believes we are…how did he phrase it?” She tries to put it lightly, then just sighs, “Caboodling.”
Samara laughs, shaking her head, “Did he put it like that? Caboodling?”
“I think I prefer fraternization.” She admits, busying herself with the board.
She looks her over, but Morrigan doesn’t see it, considering she’s still trying to figure out if a knight was allowed to move like she was planning. Samara lets herself relax, smiling, wishing that she and Morrigan were…caboodling.
“Well, it wouldn’t technically be fraternizing.” She explains, moving her piece, “I mean, if Alistair and I were together, we’d both be Grey Wardens, so it would be. But we’re just…friends. No fraternization if we do decide to caboodle.”
Morrigan almost cracks a smile, “Please stop referring to sex as caboodling.”
Samara laughs and shakes her head, “You started it, I won’t stop.” She leans a little closer, “What made Alistair think that we were…having sex?”
“Apparently he thinks that we make ‘kissy faces’ at one another.” She rolls her eyes, taking her move, “I think you share more romantic glances with that mutt of yours.”
Samara fakes a gasp, “Barkspawn is integral to the group.” She smiles at Morrigan, and she is undone. “He’s going to be the real hero of all this, mark my words.” Then, after a moment, “Checkmate.”
Morrigan looks down at the board, perplexed. Her queen had captured her king, after knocking her queen from the board, and she feels like there is some symbolism, or a divine notion that she ought to adhere to.
Instead, she sits back in her seat, “That…was a good game, Warden.” Morrigan does crack a smile this time, and Samara practically beams in response. “I daresay I enjoyed myself.”
Samara snorts - rather unbecoming for such a prissy noble - and smiles at Morrigan, “You better have, considering how often we play this damnable game.”
Morrigan smiles, then pauses, considering, “You don’t like this game?”
Samara shakes her head, “My father made me play it constantly - to help with strategy, he said. All I see now is a controlled, easy board. Nothing is so easy in the moment.” She smiles, much softer than before, at Morrigan, “It’s much better with you, though.”
“Because you win every time.” Morrigan shoots back, trying to hide the lump in her throat. No man had ever made her…pine. Was this pining? She was yearning for her touch, to know if her lips were really as soft as they looked. She wanted to know how her hair felt in her grip, to listen to her and take care of her Warden, her Samara.
“Because of the company.” Samara says, still holding Morrigan’s queen piece.
Caboodling. Morrigan didn’t understand why the idiotic Warden didn’t just refer to it as what it was - sex. Or, more honestly, she did. He was a virgin, inexperienced in the ‘heat of the moment’, in the ‘passion of lovers’. In that moment, though, eyes locked on Samara’s, Morrigan is convinced she wants to call it love-making.
Morrigan licks her lips, watching Samara’s deft fingers turn the queen piece round and round, and suddenly, the Warden’s lips are pressed against hers.
Her lips aren’t soft. They’re chapped, from months of neglect, and her fingertips are callous and rough, but she and Morrigan interlock more firmly than any king and queen ever have. It’s not an explosion of feelings or an eruption of passion, but Morrigan feels something coming to light - Morrigan is Morrigan and Samara is Samara, and they are together now.
Morrigan knows she will have to leave one day. She will bear a child, and she will…
She doesn’t want to think about what comes next, because she doesn’t know. It is easier to have a plan, to know where the pawns will go, and what the queen will do, and when.
Instead, she kisses Samara.
She grips the front of the shirt she wore, like she might try to dart off and leave her. Samara’s fingers intertwine in her hair, and Morrigan stands, the board game forgotten as the Warden is led into the Witch’s den.
Love-making, Morrigan thinks, her lips a breath away from Samara’s undressing her slowly, admiring every scar, kissing over the bone of her hip, across her collarbone. Samara shakes beneath her, and Morrigan’s name sounds like heaven on her lips.
She kisses along her thighs, teasing. She is soft here, not untouched, but Morrigan finds that Samara grips the sheets and whines when Morrigan takes her time here.
She has only ever lain with men, specifically men with assigned male anatomy - she has never evenseen another young woman’s body, unsure of where she is allowed to tread from here.
“Are you…?” Samara asks just as Morrigan looks up to her, “Have you done this before?” She says, as if she is a mind reader - Morrigan knows she is not.
Morrigan swallows and bites back, “I didn’t have many opportunities during the few times I left to wood, much less with…someone like you.”
Samara snorts, and it puts Morrigan at ease, at least a little, though she bristles, “Someone like me? You touch yourself, don’t you?”
Thinking of you, but Morrigan just nods, and dips her fingers inside, using the same tricks that get her off, watching Samara’s face so she could pinpoint exactly what made her whisper her name, what made her toes curl, her nose wrinkle - her favorite was how the Warden’s eyes shut, her lips parted and she ruts her hips into Morrigan’s hand, only to have the Witch pin her down with her free hand, kissing along her navel as she fingers her.
Love. Morrigan thinks it’s a silly word. Laying with the Warden will not convince her so easily, but Samara is a patient woman. Two queens. The concept is still foreign to Morrigan, but she brings Samara to climax twice over before the Warden demands that it’s Morrigan’s turn. Morrigan just smiles, and then rolls her eyes as Samara teases her for it.
Samara kisses at the curls between the Witch’s legs, “We’re caboodling now, you know that?”
“Oh, just shut up, and put that mouth to good use.” Morrigan looks up, but only so Samara can’t see her smiling.
Samara kisses the inside of her thigh, “Anything for you.”
