#storiedtm

The witch had been around for three months now; altogether that time frame used to be a blimp, it now dragged on for Lucas. Phillipa had come to investigate runes written in languages that with their founders died with: Latin, Old Norse, and a language he couldn’t even recognize. Her reasoning behind it all was seemingly noble, but naturally the vampire found a way to have it benefit him. Sure, he’d help her translate the magical tomes and put his input in for interpretation. But he wanted in on the necromancy; a lot of good men and women died on him throughout the growth of his drug empire. If he could bring back even a fraction of those people back, he’d be doing even better than before.

It was stupid, stupid to be offended. It was stupid to think so much into a passing comment. He wouldn’t usually, he gave as good as he got when it came to Mickey’s good natured teasing. Hell, he fucking enjoyed it, usually. It was one his favourite things about the other bloke, the fucking mouth on him. Usually he would have laughed, casually slipped some muggle money to the poor, unfortunate pick-pocketed soul and left it at that. No harm, no foul and all that.

“You can’t just fucking — the second you start blurring the fucking lines of what’s right is when it all goes to shit.” he ranted, running a hand through his hair as the other fumbled for his own pack of cigs in his pocket. “What’s the fucking point? What’s the point of all this, if in the end you’re not even on the moral high ground? What kinda fucking world is that gonna be?”

He’d killed someone.

He didn’t even know their name. He didn’t know if they had a family, or friends that would miss them. He hadn’t even had time to think, before they’d even gotten the start of the killing curse out of their mouth aimed at Sirius — James had acted. He’d only meant to disarm them, but his adrenaline fuelled spell had overshot. Their wand had gone flying, them with it and James hadn’t even needed to hear the sickening crack to know their neck was broken. Their mask at an odd angle and before he’d had chance to take it off, to reveal who they were and look into the eyes of a man he’d just killed — Sirius had grabbed him and apparated them both away.

He was a killer. There was no getting around it. He was no better than the scum they were fighting against. It didn’t matter if he hadn’t meant it. It didn’t matter if it was in any kind of defense because someone was dead. What did that make him? What kind of world were they going to be left with if they killed just as easily as the other side did? People had fucking congratulated him, had celebrated it as though it was some kind of fucking achievement and all James could think about was a sickening crack and a terrifying mask tilted at a jaunty angle.

It wasn’t Mickey’s fault. None of it was. But he didn’t know who he was dealing with, he didn’t know who James really was. He thought he was some great, moral person and James wanted him to fucking hate him. The way he hated himself right now. Yet he was terrified he would. Mickey was rapidly becoming a place to breathe in a world where James felt like he was drowning. But James couldn’t share the big things with him and he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with that information.

He wanted Mickey to love him. He knew that by now. But he didn’t wanna be loved under false pretences. For a moral code that maybe he didn’t deserve to be assigned to him. He wanted to earn it, for it to fucking happen because Mickey knew who he was, and it just wasn’t fucking possible.

The urge to say it had taken over him suddenly. They were just sitting there, comfortable in the silence as Mickey poured them drinks and it’d hit him. It’d hit him so quickly he couldn’t control it coming out of his mouth. He was going to get him killed. He was going to get Mickey killed for the sake of a few selfish moments. He was giving the other side leverage, giving them someone James cared about and someone who was relatively easy pickings.

Sure, Mickey could hold his own in a fight. He was tough, he was fucking ruthless when he wanted to be. But he wasn’t magic, he was no match against a wand. He wasn’t going to outrun a killing curse. He wasn’t going to be able to suck up a crucio, or will himself out of magical bindings. He could be used, tortured relentlessly and all for just knowing James. For being someone James cared about. Because if they took Mickey? It was a sure fire way of getting James Potter where they wanted him. He wouldn’t even fucking hesitate.

But Mickey was his best mate. He was something, he was special and maybe it was something more than mates but it wasn’t really something either of them needed to say out loud. But he was the person James wanted to tell these things to. He was the one he wanted advice from, the one he wanted to tell all his worries to. To share things. To lay it on the fucking table and see if they could somehow make a meal of it.

So he’d said it. He’d let it fall out of his mouth with no thought to the consequences. He was a Gryffindor and he was supposed to be brave. He was supposed to be noble and self sacrificing and he should’ve given Mickey up a long time ago.

“What? No that’s not — “ he shook his head, running a hand through his hair when Mickey went off. Because he didn’t want him to think that. Letting him think James considered him a  danger wasn’t fucking noble, it was leaving Mickey with something that would stick with him, would burden his relationships. “No — it’s not — you’re not the danger! You’re not — it’s — it’s me — “

He bit his lip, eyes wide as he fingered the wand in his pocket. He could obliviate him if he wanted to. He could pretend they’d never had this conversation, but James didn’t want that either. He never wanted to use his magic as an advantage, as some kind of one-upmanship and there was something so incredibly wrong about taking someone’s memories against their will.

“I — I’m mixed up in some shit okay?” he said at a rush, trying to be vague, trying to keep enough detail out of it as he could. “There’s people after me — powerful people and I — well it’s not safe, it’s not safe to be around you cause they’ll — fuck I don’t — they’ll use you, they’ll use you to get to me and I — “

He paused, shaking his head, his heart pounding in his chest. He was trying, trying to say everything without saying anything at all and he didn’t know how he’d gotten here. He didn’t know how he’d got himself in this position. Hiding so much from someone he lo — from someone who meant so much to him.

        “You didn’t see anything.” Florian tried to ignore the stickiness of the blood on his face. Just by his feet, a freshly killed body. They could still be breathing. Florian looked at the other, bloodied knife on his left hand. He didn’t even feel that it was still there with the coldness of the hilt and the warmth of his hand collided. 

        To be honest, he didn’t remember why he killed this person. He was sure that it had something to do with his cousin. Everything he did, he did them for Snow. Of course, she was his light. She was his life. He might be seen crazy, but it was all out of love. His love was dangerous, he knew that. But it would make both of them safe. 

@storiedtm based on 05. of this list

“You do-” Jack had been out like a light as soon as he settled into a nice position on the couch of the living room and as a deep sleeper, almost certainly nothing would be able to awake him. Except Cleo. His niece who was only eight weeks, thus a tiny human, now had somehow managed to alter his entire world. 

He went from being a full-time international traveler with a healthy social following to a full-time guardian with a healthy social following. Taking care of his sister’s child was not something that he had ever imagined doing in a million years but, when the news that a child was coming broke, he couldn’t imagine doing anything else. 

“You don’t have to go, Wren...!” Jack stumbled as he struggled to peel himself from the cushions. He felt lightheaded quickly as he stood up too fast and groaned, hands flying to his head with temporary regret. 

He was currently renting a room in the house that the woman lived in. It had been rather tough finding a place he could stay at for a few months, just until he figured out what the permanent living arrangements would be, and he was eternally grateful that she accepted his situation. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel obligated to take care of Cleo. Fatherhood was hard, but something that he quickly embracing.