#Damn. Kin Assign Got Hands

[thalassous]

goodbye autism! i love you! ♡

[ ID: A painted, full scene of Wally Darling. He is laying on a couch backwards, his left leg kicked up against the back support. His hands are in a similar position of that of Baphomet's, where his left is downturned with two fingers and his thumb up, and the right is upturned with just the fingers up. He is looking directly at the camera with his mouth open in a cat-like smirk. The background is darker than he is, with dark noise encroaching. Underneath him in bright yellow reads, "Just The Most" and then a heart. END ID ]

[brokenpieces-72]

Graves Circumstance

Part 3 | Navigation

TW: anxiety, some violence, let me know if I missed any

As you walked around you found yourself experiencing some anxiety. Graves noticed you bracing yourself against posts and benches. Phil stopped every time asking if you needed to take some time. It took little for him to help you sit on the ground to let you breath through it. Right now his primary concern was you. You were waiting for the police station to call you in to retrace your steps and hopefully find where you had been held for so long.

“You sure you want to do this today?” He asked. You needed to do it today, but Graves didn’t want some kid traumatized all over again.

“No… but I want to… I need to.” You said. Phil was impressed. You had guts, and a strong will. Recovery would take time, and he wasn’t about to force anything. Almost didn’t want you to go retrace your steps. Worried you might rush in and crash. If this is what you thought was best he wasn’t going to argue. He checked his phone and still no call or text. Maybe the cop from last night had said something.

“You ready to keep walking?” He asked. You nodded.

“When we go to the station, if you ever feel unsafe or like you need to brace yourself, you speak up. If you can’t, then pat me on the arm, or squeeze my hand or something. Okay?” He asked. You nodded again, and he helped you up to your feet. Just in case you held on to his arm.

Phil wasn’t exactly a patient man, but this was beyond ridiculous. It was the afternoon and no call from the police asking you to come in. Phil tried calling them and got a voice mail. A police station with a voicemail? Really? A small town but come on.

Graves decided to take you there directly, fed up with waiting. When he took you there they explained they had some other things come up. For fuck’s sake, they had a minor come to their precinct carved, bruised and almost naked, and they’re telling him this now? This was a problem. If he had to tell his boys he couldn’t show for some things they would understand but this wasn’t something any station would just put on hold. Had they even gotten in contact with your parents or next of kin? No? Then what hell is he supposed to do with you?

“Mr. Graves we can take care of them, assign an officer to them for witness protection instead.” The cop offered.

“One of your boys already did last night and I told him no.” Phil argued. “Now why the fuck isn’t this case being examined more closely? Or is this not the first time a young kid comes to your station like that?”

“Mr. Graves may I remind you that you have no jurisdiction here, nor are you my superior. So either get out and wait until we call you or leave Y/N with us.”

“I have half a mind to take them to the next town.” Phil continued. “If this doesn’t get sorted soon I’ll sort it myself.”

“And you have no authority Mr. Graves.” The cop said. Phil wouldn’t admit it but he wanted to hit the cop in the face. You were too young to be dealing with this kind of shit.

“I don’t get a call by tomorrow morning I’ll go with them myself. Authority be damned.” Phil warned before storming out of the station, retrieving you on the way out. He was pissed. Something is fucking around and he’d had enough.

Phil got you into the truck and sat in the driver’s seat. No information on you. No information about your case. No one seemed to give a shit. Graves sat there trying to think of what he could do next. Something Phil doesn’t like is when people put him in a box. If he can’t get the cops to help then he’ll help you himself.

He looked in the rear view mirror, and saw you staring out the window. Something didn’t sit right. If you’d shown up to a police station like that, and in a small town like this, the cops would be sending out warnings to locals, there would be manhunts for your captors. More alarms would sound, so why was your appearance only chiming bell? These guys were treating it like it was just another case on their list. At this point he wanted to call Laswell but after everything that had happened she was busy. And he wasn’t someone she’d be willing to talk to.

“Kid?” He asked, noticing you get comfortable under the new blanket. Wait wasn’t that in his bag at the motel? Whatever not important. You perked up to listen. “Let’s take a small trip.”

He put the truck in drive, and headed back to the motel to gather your stuff. You’re fidgeting in the seat, like you wanted to say something. He knew what you wanted to ask, but right now he was banking on your trust. No doubt his reaction to the news broadcast didn’t help your trust issues.

“Need you to trust me here kid.” He said reaching the motel easily enough.

“T-trying.” You said.

“Need a minute?” He asked. You nodded and he got into the backseat. You weren’t tearing up and breathing hard again. “Can you name five things you can see?”

“Uh… the car seat… your brown hair… the motel door… that tree… the door handle.”

“Four things you can touch. Can you name those?”

“The blanket… the seat… my hoodie… warm socks…”

“What are three that you hear?”

“Your voice… um… my breathing… I think my stomach…”

“Two things you can smell? Can be anything.”

“The truck… your after shave… I think it’s your after shave.”

“Body spray, but good enough. What’s your…favourite taste?”

“… dark chocolate.” You answered. Graves nodded.

“Alright, I’ll get you something to eat but right now we’re gonna get our stuff and blow this stand.” He said.

“No fucking- kid stay in the truck.” Graves said putting the truck in park.

“What’s going on?” You asked, as he undid his seatbelt.

“Stay in the truck.” He repeated, pointing to you before closing the door. He stormed over to road block where a couple of cops were standing behind concrete barricades. Hell no, they did not get to pull this shit with him.

“The fuck is this shit?” He demanded.

“Sir, please get back in your truc-“

“Tell me what the fuck is going on first!” He barked at the officer.

“When you tell me what the fuck is with your attitude then I will, until then why don’t you cool off in your truck first?” The cop barked back getting in Graves face with the barricade between them. Graves stared the cop down, pressing his lips and taking a minute. He was a commander, not a sergeant and didn’t like being pushed around. Right now he didn’t get that luxury. He had to reel it in a little.

“I’m sorry officer…?” Graves said, taking a breath.

“Hodgkins.” The officer replied, his face stoic. The more names, the better. Certainly would report them for this crap.

“Been a long day, just trying to get home. My kid misses their mama very much.” Graves exclaimed. Hodgkins glanced down at Graves hand, not seeing a wedding band.

“Are they now?” Hodgkins asked, doubt very heavy in his voice.

“Joint custody. Not the favourite parent.” Graves said, with a half grin. Hodgkins leaned over to try and get a look at you in the truck.

“Small avalanche, pretty much covered the road.” The officer said, as if it were obvious and right behind him. Graves didn’t like that. “There’s a motel in town, you can call your ex to let her know you’ll be late. Sure your kid can understand, that leaving town right now is not an option.”

That last part was a warning and threat, one Graves didn’t take kindly. Phil gave the officer a curt nod, thanked him for the time and got back to the truck. You jumped when he opened and closed the truck door, before turning the truck around and driving back into town. Graves was thinking and fuming. The tension could be hit with a hammer.

“…kind of wish I stabbed him with the fork?” You asked. Graves’ gritted teeth loosened when you said it, smirking.

“Yeah. It’s getting late, and you need a proper dinner.” He said, changing the subject.

While the two of you walked back to the motel Graves was the one scanning the area. He seemed distracted as well. If you wanted to look at some stores he went with you, if only just to look around and kill time.

At one point you come across some plush animals. Your face seemed to light up a little seeing the cute little toys.

There’s a beagle plush with little bandanna around its neck. Graves doesn’t mind getting it for you. He noticed on the drive back his demeanour probably scared you a little. You hadn’t tried to say much of anything and you were often pawing at a blanket or pillow. You were a teenager sure but something you could hold and squeeze couldn’t hurt to have.

At dinner, Graves was able to get takeout and brought it back to the motel with you, while you were thinking of names for your new friend. By now Graves was your living shadow, watching over you, not letting you out of his sight.

“Bailey? No…” you thought out loud.

“What’s wrong with Bailey?” Phil asked.

“Doesn’t look like a Bailey.” You answered. “What about Bagel?”

“Bagel the Beagle… sounds like a kid’s cartoon.” Graves commented.

Once inside you took off your shoes and flopped onto the bed.

“Just in case kid, could you sleep in the further bed tonight?” Graves asked. You looked up at him and then at the closed and tightly locked door. You crawled off the bed and sat on the edge of the other one.

As Graves set the food down on the small counter you figured now would be better than never. “Are we stuck here?”

Graves shrugged off his coat. “If I can’t track down dynamite to blow up that barrier then I’ll find the components.”

Your eyes go wide realizing the situation. You were still trapped. Your cage had merely expanded and given you new privileges. No no, you were so close. Without realizing you were rocking and clawing at your arms, muttering to yourself. Graves came to your side immediately.

“Hey. Look at me. Look at me y/n. I’m not gonna get you out of this. You understand?” His words were firm and stern.

“… it can still find me!” You said, panicked. “I’m gonna get you out of this. I will do everything I can, you got that?” Graves said firm, holding your shoulders. You sniffled, trying to tell yourself that was true. You looked past Graves and eyes widened and your cried out. Graves turned to see a figure peering in the window before trying to run off. Phil was faster. He reached the door and opened it to find an older man. The guy looked startled, but Graves had him by the shirt and against the wall.

“Who are you?!” He demanded.

“Dude, I’m sorry! I swear I thought it was my room!” The guy said, terrified. Graves stared him down.

“How long have you been at the motel for?”

Graves asked. The guy was confused, and Graves shoved him into the wall again.

“Dude I swear! I’m sorry if I scared your kid! I was just checking, my buddy said he got us a room! I just misread the number!” Graves let the guy go, and requested his phone. The guy gave it up quickly, hands up, and pressing against the wall. Graves found the text messages, and sighed. He returned the phone.

“Thank you for your time.” He said, letting the guy tremble some more while he returned to you. He shut the door and locked it drawing the curtains again. When he turned around you were gone.

“Shit… kid?” He called. Graves was cautious now. The guy hadn’t gotten far from the room when Graves caught him. Graves peeked around the beds, and couldn’t find you. He turned the light on in the bathroom. “Kid I’m coming in.”

Graves looked around the door and even drew back the curtain of the shower. Not there either. Then he heard a sound from the counter in kitchen area.

Graves got to the counter and knelt down. He kept his voice down. “Kid it’s me. Gonna open the cupboard now okay?”

Graves opened it and found you inside, curled up tighter than he ever thought possible. You looked uncomfortable and a little stuck. “Ya need some help there partner?”

It was a little awkward but Phil got you out of the cupboard and told you what happened. You just stared at the curtains as he spoke, thinking every shadow that passed seemed to linger for too long.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving @cutiecusp @shikigami-the-paper-spirit

[nagipops]

hii I love your blogs sooo much you're really talented (I just needed to say it sorry) so straight to the point, I already made 2 requests to you and I really enjoyed your writing so I would like to make another again. As I'm clueless about what to request I'll just ask for random hcs for konoha 11, idk if it's too much but if so then you can do with Neji (I love him so much), Kakashi and Naruto. Thank you in advance and sorry anything ^^

RANDOM KONOHA 11 HEADCANONS!

FEATURING: naruto, sakura, shikamaru, ino, choji, neji, rock lee, tenten, kiba, hinata, and shino

WARNINGS: mentions alcohol, drugs, food, bugs, and the tiniest nsfw mention if you get the joke. hehe

A/N: AHHHH ANONN this seriously made my day, im so so glad you enjoy my work!! 💖

NARUTO

you know how we all have “the chair”, where we throw all of our dirty clothes onto?

yeah, imagine that, but from the seat to the fricking ceiling

its just a GINORMOUS MOUND of clothes, you wonder how he even goes through that many clothes so quickly???

definitely shoves it under his bed whenever guests come over (somehow)

holds chopsticks really weirdly. but it works.

asked tenten to put his hair into space buns to mimic his sexy jutsu and went around flirting with the village

jiraiya was so proud of him T-T

comes up with the WORST pickup lines

they’re so bad, its almost charming. almost

has gone AWOL multiple times, disappearing from everywhere, just everywhere

it scared you a little, so you searched the entire village for him

you finally found him sitting on the ledge of a cliff, gazing out at the vast sea

concerned and panicked, you cried out to ask him what was wrong

he turned to you with a crestfallen, devastated look on his face and said,

“i bought shrimp ramen instead of chicken ramen.”

you’ve never searched for him after his disappearance ever again.

SAKURA

100% makes origami shurikens and chucks them at you

they are deathly precise and deathly sharp. seriously, how are these not illegal weapons yet???

writes threatening motivational notes to herself on the mirror

“u got this!” “make sure to smack naruto today!” “ino sucks!”

her backpack would always be way too high up on her back. idk why but. it would

does her hair all nice and pretty before she goes out but once she arrives to her destination SHE KEEP. TAKING. IT OUT. and redoing it over and over and over again

like it’s impossible to make eye contact with her because she’s holding a bobby pin between her teeth while braiding her hair

her guilty pleasure would be hostess treats

ding dongs are her favorite. don’t ask me how i know, i just know.

eats the yellow starbursts just to spite naruto and all her haters

loves small lap dogs, she think’s they’re so cute and cuddly

but she especially loves chihuahuas

they’re so feisty and naruto HATES them, so of course she had to go and get one for herself

dresses the poor dog up in little bonnets and jackets and ties its tiny fuzzy hairs into pigtails

she and the chihuahua are not that much unlike <3

SHIKAMARU

this man is a god at shogi but he absolutely SUCKSSSS at cup pong.

is this an ick? idk. but he is absolute trash at this game.

it gets even worse when he’s got a couple drinks in him

tries to calculate the velocity and acceleration and angle and shit but his shot is always a good two feet off BYE 😭

just mutters an “aw, shit” before awaiting his turn again

hates checkers, loves chess

“checkers is for WUSSIES” - shikamaru nara

i said this in another post, but he is Very Good at whistling

like that’s his hidden talent

can copy any tune with the perfect pitch and rhythm

speaking of, he can do really cool tricks with his tongue

like making a four leaf clover, touching the bridge of his nose with it, flipping it upside down, you name it

he has slanted, scrawled handwriting, to the point where it’s almost illegible

wbk he cheats in school SO OFTEN. but he never gets caught. he’s not stupid, he just couldn’t care less about his classes.

thinks weed and e-cigs are stupid, cigarettes are where it’s at

you just can’t replicate the feeling of taking a drag from a cig after a long, tiring day

plus he looks hella cool while doing it B)

INO

teaches the boyz™️ how to braid their hair

like they all gather in a circle around this feisty fashionista and fail attempt to braid their hair

sakura was just fuming in the sidelines

“OI, INO-PIG, THAT’S A DUTCH BRAID, NOT A FRENCH BRAID!!”

yeah, ino 🙄

the only one that can actually do it is neji because a) this man is talented af and b) he’s got the long hairrr

ino probably envies his thick, sleek hair because hE’S a bOy

also asks everyone for their blood type and zodiac signs and tells them if they’re compatible with her or not

and definitely judges you for your sign 😣

“oh, you’re a gemini? hmm, what a shame...”

makes bouquets for her favorite people and kin assigns everyone a flower

only assigns the pretty nice ones to the people she likes (sorry sakura, you’re out of luck)

one of her favorite hobbies is crafting! she’s really good with details and small things so she loves making those miniature dollhouses and stuff

also really good at watercoloring. especially painting flowers and landscapes

also i feel like she would be really good at playing any instrument because of her skilled hands

can play a badass flute solo. period.

CHOJI

would honestly rather die than get anywhere NEAR an asparagus

he just thinks they’re so gross and bitter and NOT SALTY

he always eats his yakiniku a little bit undercooked because he’s way too impatient to wait for it to cook fully. who do you think he is??

whenever he cloud gazes with shikamaru, when asked what he thinks a cloud looks like, he just says some sort of food

“oi, choji, what does that one look like to you?”

“a... yakiniku grill... with... pineapple rings on it! ooh, and a wagyu steak right there!”

he thinks pringles are an abomination to society. where’s the crisp? where’s the grease? where’s the saltiness?!!!

asks ino to teach him how to do his hair all fancy and the two of them devote an entire day learning different hairstyles

it’s his new favorite thing to do now :D

he really likes crayons!!!!

like he’ll write with them, draw with them, color with them, do everything with them

he’s even tried to eat them. he said they tasted good.

definitely had the 128 crayon pack WITH THE BUILT-IN SHARPENER, and everyone thought he was the coolest kid in town

he ate it UP, he even scored some bbq dates with the ladies

i also feel like he loves basketball, and he has a MEAN slam dunk

like his vertical isn’t that high, but the man can REACH

he loves when people laugh at him when he challenges them to a 1v1 and then proceeds to absolutely destroy them <3

NEJI

he seems like a cucumber kind of guy.

just cucumber

like i feel like he puts it in everything; soba, salads, sandwiches, his face, yeah

it’s mellow and cool, just like him!

speaking of, i feel like he lives for spa days and facials

it just lets him be alone in his little cucumber scented world for an hour or two and he gets damn clear skin from it as well

seriously he has PERFECT skin. flawless. not a single blemish. his cheeks feel like baby butts they’re so smooth.

i feel like he’d be a god at solving rubik’s cubes, don’t ask me why

like if anyone scrambled theirs on accident they would just take it to neji and he’d solve it in the blink of an eye

CAT PERSON!!! loves the little meow meows

who are we kidding, neji basically is a cat; agile, aloof, does silly things without trying to, very cute

he just feels akin to the little fuzzballs and he thinks petting cats are extremely therapeutic. good for the soul

he is a golf man. he would take his juniors golfing and everyone thinks he’s uncool. cmon neji let them go to the skate park at least T-T

also very good at karaoke, definitely surprised everyone once he got a few drinks in him since he started serenading you

LIGHTWEIGHT!!! do not get more than one shot of alcohol in him. he will go berserk.

i also feel like he’d really love photography; not taking pictures of people, but of nature

he loves taking a quiet stroll through a pretty forest and snapping pictures of all the unique flora and fauna

it’s so serene ︶ ‿ ︶

ROCK LEE

100% milly rocks everywhere

gai got in on it too once he asked what lee was doing

“is that what all the youthful cool kids do these days!”

they also dab together. a lot

DO NOT BE SEEN WITH THESE TWO!!! you are not associated with them.

definitely is the one breakdancing in the middle of the dance circle at a high school party

he’s mad skilled at it too

headspins and windmills galore

challenged naruto to a dance-off and completely OBLITERATED him

lee then asked if naruto wanted a rematch, this time with one hand tied behind lee’s back

naruto obliged, and he STILL lost

RIP naruto and his fangirls, they all scrambled to lee afterwards T-T

i feel like his favorite subject is science

not the boring physics equations and laws and theories but the fun EXPERIMENTS

definitely has singed all of his hair off one time and he went to gai blubbering to help him grow back his precious hair

but he loves experimenting with different combinations and chemicals to get different reactions each time

created a potent love potion and carried it around with him all day one day

and it was actually working

girls were flocking to him left and right, staring at his lips and his face

he was so abashed at the sudden attention

heck, it even worked on sakura

“oi, lee-san!”

“hehe, yes, sakura-san?”

her eyes shifted downwards to his lips and his heart thumped harder

“hey... lee-san?”

“what is it?”

“you have something on your lip. we’ve been trying to tell you all day but you just winked and blew kisses at us.”

legend has it lee has still not recovered to this day.

TENTEN

has THE prettiest handwriting. and she can write SUPER fast

it’s like a superpower

like she transcribed five pages of a report in less than two minutes with perfect handwriting

naruto is so jealous.

she is also super good at origami! those diligent, accurate hands aren’t just for throwing things

taught sakura how to make shurikens but does NOT endorse any violent uses of them

she can replicate all of her weapons with paper and they can actually function, it’s so cool

made paper kunai knives one day and the wholeee village wanted to get their hands on them

i feel like she’d listen to mitski. idk i just get those vibes

LOVES BIG DOGS!! especially fluffy wuffy samoyeds

like man’s best friend?? no, GIRL’S BEST FRIEND!!

hugs and cuddles and squishes all the big dogs

she thinks small dogs are spawns of satan

sakura and her have definitely quarreled over this

but at the end of the day, all dogs are adorable fur babies, so she lets it slide :,)

KIBA

kiba always looks SO GOOD in photos you take of him, candid or not

like you could just whip out a camera and snap a photo of him at any given moment and he would look perfect

you framed a picture of him yelling at akamaru for peeing inside the house

it’s pure artwork

i feel like he tries to swagger around with his hands shoved in his pockets but it fails MISERABLY and the girls are wondering if he broke his leg or something 😭

kiba just walk normally. for the love of god please just walk normally.

he tries to slump back in his chair really low but one time he slouched way too low so he slipped off of his chair and onto the ground LMFAOOOO

he just wallowed there... in shame...

also.. he LOVES when the girls put makeup on him!!

he tries to act like he hates it. but it secretly gives him so much confidence

not to mention the girls hyping him up are a huge ego boost

okay the inside of his jacket hood is the warmest. thing. EVER!!!

seriously, no wonder this dude is so happy-go-lucky all the time, he’s living in literal heaven 24/7

it’s like you’re sleeping on a cloud inside a warm, cozy bed during a cold winter morning

10/10 would recommend letting him give you his sweatshirt when you’re chillin with a hair tie ���️

HINATA

always smells like lavender soap. always

also has the cutest pencil pouches with little puppy faces and kawaii things

oH and she has those mini yoobi highlighters, she thinks they’re so cute (and functional!)

everyone flocks to her to try them out and marvel at the cute tiny highlighters

and they try to steal them from her but she doesn’t even stop them because she’s too timid to 😭

naruto goes BALLISTIC over them

she lets him have all of them <3

tennis girl!!! tennis girl.

all of her opponents always underestimate her because she’s so timid and shy and quiet

but she has a KILLER serve

and then she takes her opponents to the slaughterhouse with a complete shutout ;)

she’s really athletic believe it or not, she can beat most of the boys in a mile run and she has incredible endurance

i feel like she really loves velvet scrunchies

she just thinks they’re so pretty and they keep her hair soft so they’re cute and functional

also takes the PRETTIEST notes!!

color codes, dividers, headers, you name it, it’s all super readable too its insane

everyone asks her for her notes, not to study but just to appreciate the pure artwork that it is ^w^

SHINO

shino is SO easy to prank

“how do you catch an eyemaster?” *cue naruto and kiba snickering*

“eyemaster bait. that is because—”

even when everyone’s laughing their asses off, he still continues to explain his answer since he does NOT GET THE JOKE

tried his hand at writing haikus

here’s his best one so far:

“Bugs are amazing. That is because they are bugs. Bugs are very nice.” - Shino Aburame

VERY proud of it, since it took him weeks to perfect

praise it, pls

had one of those ant farms and bug-catching kits as a kid

and he would fill the kit TO THE BRIM. LIKE IT WAS HEAVY BECAUSE THERE WERE SO MANY BUGS.

he loves the little chitters of the different bugs

he had jars of different bugs all lined up on a wall shelf in his room

collects silkworms off of trees and sticks them into his pockets (no i definitely did not do this as a kid...)

HELP I FEEL LIKE he would record a timelapse of his ant farm growing and upload it to youtube with a movie maker title screen that says

“my ants”

if you enjoyed this post, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) feel free to request here, and make sure to read the rules first! have a lovely day everyone <3

[caro-amante]

Hushed Whispers

« A Marauders, drabble? idk, just a small scenario between the furries we all love »

a/n: here’s a short piece i wrote last night, this was not proof-read! please don’t hold back any constructive criticism! hope you enjoy:)

heavy mentions of wolfstar, peter because some of you need a warning for that😒 remus being grumpy, lmk if there’s any more i should add on.

—————————

“ It was a few days before the full moon came to beam over the waters of Britain, bringing about the irritated state of the spindly lad. His constant murmurs of vulgar words and nasty outbursts to the exasperating fellas he called best friends were considered normal at this point. Said furries had to watch their every move, or they’d have a very angry Remus shouting at them in a moment. “

—————————

The blazing fire sizzled as it rested upon the fireplace, crisping the wood to an obsidian black. The warmth radiated off the fireplace, bringing a mellow ambiance to calm those present. The sharp crackling of the twigs aflame- muted due to the voices of young students conversing. Various discussions and chats sparked as others died down, laughs echoed off the peeling, red walls.

It was a rather stressful week for the Hogwarts students; Extra loads of work piled up on their arms, due to Christmas break soon catching up. Although that did not impede them all from coughing up a few chuckles and displaying their pearly whites. On the other hand, many of said teenagers choose to ignore their work. Procrastinating their assignments to the last week the papers must be turned in by.

“That’s absolute rubbish..! Who would believe such a thing?” The cracking voice belonging to a young lad, of very handsome features one may note, tore the monotone volume of the common room. A challenging smile slid onto a blond boy’s face, who laid quite comfortably on the dusting couch. His eyes darted mischievously to a bespectacled boy, mirroring said actions.

“Y’mother does, at least that's what she told me last night…” The Ravenhead’s frown quickly dropped, soon forming a face that clearly expressed, ‘Really Wormtail?’

“Hehe…”

“Don’t make that bloody face! Bloke’s got humor, he does!” The boy of a tousled mane and lanky glasses called out. Potter, James Potter is his name, quite a character he is. “Y’know it damn well Pads!”

“Will you lower it down..!”

James, who had forgotten of his other friend’s current state, had pretty much shouted that last bit. His smile quickly swiped into a straight line, a squeaky, “Sorry, Remus…” escaping his lips.

“Tsk…”

It was a few days before the full moon came to beam over the waters of Britain, bringing about the irritated state of the spindly lad. His constant murmurs of vulgar words and nasty outbursts to the exasperating fellas he called best friends were considered normal at this point. Said furries had to watch their every move, or they’d have a very angry Remus shouting at them in a moment.

“Tell your boyfriend you love him.” The whisper belonged to the brunet, poking at the pale boy beside him. The lightning McQueen kin stared expectantly at his best friend, waiting for him to follow said order.

“What?” The hushed whisper left the other boy’s chapped lips. “Why?“

“I dunno, maybe that’ll cheer him up.” James’ swiftly shrugged.

“I mean,” Sirius’ silver eyes glanced over to Remus’ slouching form, “I guess…” He stood up, sock-covered feet lightly padding on the carpeted floor. He came to a halt, quickly going back to his previous spot.

“What is it?” James’ voice urgently whispered, furrowed brows enveloped by his curly, obsidian locks.

“He gave me the look.”

“Oh.”

“Yup.”

“Well, there’s nothing we can do now, is there?”

“Other than run away to escape Moony’s wrath?” Sirius glanced beside him, locking eyes with the brunet. The two simultaneously turned their heads to face the sandy-haired stripling, defeat sewed onto on their features.

“No…”

————————

Requests are open, im closing them sometime from dec 1-5; so hurry up now !

have a wonderful day, darling:<3

[krabmeat]

𝟷𝟶𝟶 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜? 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢? 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔? 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛?

HELL YEAH FELLAS YOU HEARD THAT RIGHT!! FIRST MAJOR MILESTONE BAYBEEEE LETS GOOOOOO!!

guys, i really dont think you see how insanely mental this is. like what?!?! i joined here cause a friend of mine was gushing about a writer here and eventually convinced me to get tumblr. they called me their "noob reading friend /affectionate" and now look at me!! not even a year in and ive gained a crowd? thats so damn cool to think about!! to think that this many people are willing to put aside time in their day to read some fics made by me, im floored man!! all in all though, i have no one to thank but my wonderful mutuals and followers who have helped floor and construct the fantastic beginnings of this blog. which is why im here to bring you all this event that i sincerely hope you guys enjoy!

🦑KRABS KAN MAKE WRITING EVENTS WOW!!🦑

ALRIGHT FELLAS, IM DOING A WRITING EVENT!! HERES THE RULES AND PROMPTS NOW BOSSMEN!

~rules~

only 2 people per prompt

despite me not writing romantic fics yet, all participants are absolutely welcome to!

no smut/nsfw, im not that kind of blog and i do plan on reading entries so please dont submit anything related!!

any and all fics glorifying and supporting bigoted or misogynistic ideals will not be tolerated or respected. this is non-negotioable but if the fic has any of this that results in the putting down of or generally recognizing these ideals as negative then that is completely fine!

you are to use the quote prompts in your fic (im gonna be loose on this though so dw!! :DD)

you can use as many different prompts as youd like!!

please keep submissions in mcyt territory as thats who i write for most. but this doesnt confine to just mcyts in the dsmp! go wild dudes, hermitcraft, third life, pop off!!

keep all fics for minors platonic and platonic ONLY

generally know and respect the boundaries for ccs

when asking for a prompt, please put who you will be writing for!!

TAG ME IN YOUR FICS!! I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH PLEASE ID ADORE IT IF YOU TAGGED ME SO I CAN READ YOUR WONDERFUL WORK!!

you can use and interpret the prompts any way you want! doesnt matter if its in the angst section, you see fluff potential? go for it, vice versa!!

~prompts~

~fluff~

"I swear, if you make us late one more time I'll tape a clock to your wrist." "Isnt that a watch-?" "Shut it!"

"Look! I think it likes me!" (@ohworm-writes with cc!beeduo)

"Man, how did I catch such a good person?"

"Yknow, your parents really did something great when they made you."

"WELL HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT WOULD HAPPEN?!" "THERE ARE WARNING LABELS RIGHT THERE!"

"Take a picture, itll last longer~" "Okay!" "Wait you actually did that-?"

"That does NOT fit you." "Yeah it does! Just gotta roll it up a bit!"

"You aren't 'built different', you're just stupid." (@ohworm-writes with cc!tommy @jschllatt with cc!sapnap

"If it ever happens again, tell me. You know i adore you."

"Well..they dont even deserve you anyways! Just look at you- gorgeous!!"

~angst~

"KEEP F*CKING WALKING, THEN! CANT EVEN FACE YOUR OWN DAMN PARTNER! (or friend! :])"

"No, youre amazing!" "Then why arent i treated like it?"

"Do it again, see if i care."

"Guys..? GUYS! THEY ARENT MOVING!"

"Put the damn drink down and talk to me!"

"Its about time you get whats due, you know."

"So not only do you think im stupid, but you also think im still naive?"

"Just take me seriously for once in your damn life!"

"You'd better start running in the next 5 seconds."

"What do you take me for, a joke?!" "Wasnt that obvious?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

now that thats done, heres the ask game part of the event!!! send me the corresponding emoji in my ask box and ill respond!

👽~ ill tell you a weird or memorable occurance that has happened on tumblr between friends and moots!

😳~ ill kin assign you and try to guess who you kin! (friends and moots only)

🍒~ ill rate your blog aesthetic on a scale of 1-10

🥀~ ill give you a bunch of emojis that remind me of you! (friends and moots only)

😎~ ill tell you obscure things i think are very neat!

🌺~ ill tell you a random interesting fact i know!

🦑~ if you send me a description of yourself, personality etc then ill write you a short ship fic with a mcyt!! specify if you want it to be platonic or romantic and if you want it to be c! or cc!(this is to work on my romantic writing!! friends and moots only)

💃~ ill tell you songs that remind me of you! (friends and moots only)

📕~ ill tell you something small or obscure i secretly think about you! (friends and moots only)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

now...onto the final part- HONOURABLE MENTIONS!!!

@myceliummenace ~ these guys got me into tumblr, some of my closest friends and theyve been supporting me since day one. i couldnt be happier to breathe the same air as these guys, they all deserve a crown and if you disagree i will chomp your hand

@niceimafan ~ an absolute saint!! i came across inks former writing blog and fell in love with both them and their wonderful work /p!!!! theyve helped me through some hellish times and are all around so damn open and accepting

@jschllatt ~ istfg this lady is just-- SOOOO BEAUTIFUL INSIDE AND OUT??? nat is incredibly talented and has encouraged me throughout my time here and i couldnt be happier with how weve grown as friends!! and i know, despite how wholesome and soft nat seems to be i promise you she knows how to keep a bit going like no other. an amazing moot, stay funky :]

@im-an-ungodly-mess ~ okay look,, i know i havent interacted with these guys for a lot buttt...CAN YOU REALLY BLAME ME??!!? LIKE CMON THEYRE ALL JUST SO COOL!!! the moment i met them i knew our chaotic energies would merge and boy did they merge alright. also theyre just insanely nice and super willing to endulge with me in my random interest which is always a sexy trait to have. 10 out of 10, these guys are neato

@ohworm-writes ~ ahhh wormmm, delightful all around and just a sweetheart....BUT THEYVE GOT SHENANIGANS- as well as being extremely skilled as well like, dayummm!!! i live for our bond over fandoms outside of the mcyt fandom and i feel blessed to have you be a moot! much love, dear!

@marcooze ~ bro....whyd you have to do me like that dude? being so gosh damn kind and accepting like that like sheesh all the stuff you reblog is gold!!! it can be the most cracked out post or the most serious and informational one. idgaf that youre a reblog blog, you mean the world to me and i shall place a supple kiss on your hand as bros do <3

@ramzawrites ~ THE FIRST WRITERS BLOG IVE EVER FOLLOWED!!! ramza dear, if no one has ever told you how iconic you are then PLEASE LET ME BE THE FIRST!!! everything you do leaves me in awe and despite your talent, you still have miles and miles of kindness and generosity? you are one in a million, ramza. you deserve everything and please know how much you mean to me. thank you for supporting me so much for so long, and i hope your days are filled with really cool rocks :]]

[five-rivers]

Goals

Hey!  @puns-are-great-and-so-is-danny!  Here is your gift fic!  It got a little out of hand, and it doesn’t have a super solid ending, but I hope you like it.  :)  

.

.

.

Dear Albus,

I hope this letter finds you well.  I know these are trying and troubling times, both here and in Britain, and part of me hesitates to ask this of you for exactly that reason. But, as ever, circumstances leave us with few viable options.

News of what happened to Amity Park this Spring has spread far and wide at this point, so I won’t waste your time repeating what you already know.  What is not common knowledge, however, is that after the dust settled, the Aurors assigned to the case encountered several irregularities, not the least of which was a disturbingly high number of completely untrained young witches and wizards.  

Once news of them gets out, I have no doubt the official line will be that they simply fell through the cracks, that, unfortunately, our spells for finding young magically-gifted persons are imperfect, that the nature of Amity Park obscured them from view.  This, I fear, is a lie.  

I have no proof, but I believe they were deliberately removed from MACUSA files on account of their heritage.  Albus, they are descended from Scourers.  

Perhaps that should be obvious, perhaps you had already guessed, considering the so-called reasoning behind the attack on Amity Park, the ideals those murderers professed, but I want to make myself and my own reasoning clear.  Though it shames me deeply to say it, those children will not be safe at Ilvermorny, nor, I believe, will they be at any other school on this continent.  For all the time that has passed, the Barebones Incident and its repercussions are too fresh in the minds of the people.  

There are seven of them.  Well, seven that are of concern to me.  The others have found or are seeking alternate arrangements.  They have been staying at the school, for the time being.  My colleagues and I have been attempting to give them a good grounding in magical basics. They would not come to you without foundations.

Albus, I am begging you, accept these students into Hogwarts.  I know this is a poor time.  I have heard rumors, horrible, horrible rumors, about what is happening in Britain, about what happened at Hogwarts last year, but I fear for these children’s future, for their spirits, should they be forced into a place where they will be hated simply because of who their ancestors were.  

I know that even in Hogwarts they would be unable to escape that, but it would be less.  Britain does not have the same history with Scourers that we do.  More, for some of them, they would not be forced to walk in the same halls as the kin of their parents’ murderers.

I will understand if you refuse, but I am relying on your compassion.  

Eagerly awaiting your reply,

Agilbert Fontaine

Headmaster of the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore looked down at the letter from his old friend and colleague and sighed, his heart heavy. Agilbert was not a member of the Order of the Phoenix.  Albus knew more about the situation in Amity Park than Agilbert assumed and likely was aware of things that Agilbert himself was not.  

For example, while the bulk of the group that had devastated and decimated Amity Park were indeed Magical Separatists and those looking for generations-late revenge on Scourers, their core leadership included American Death Eaters.  

He was also aware of the children Agilbert had mentioned.  Most of the truly astonishing number of magically inclined children and adults in Amity Park had chosen to find private tutors, go through correspondence or summer courses, or attend one of several small schools in North America that had quickly shuffled to make accommodations for them, on the condition that they hide their origins.  

The seven mentioned…  Well.  They didn’t really have those options.  Either their names were too infamous, or they had no one to stay with while they puzzled through correspondence courses.  Or both.

And the names.  Even here, some of them were well known.

Albus could understand why Agilbert had asked for his help.

But was it responsible to drag these children here while Voldemort was lurking in the shadows, building up his power base once again? To offer them safety he could not give?

For those students already attending Hogwarts, it was one thing, they were already involved, simply by virtue of where they were born and where they lived.  But those seven, in America, they would be—

Well.  Not safe, perhaps, not with their parents killed and their home ravaged by hostile magic. But… farther away from the direct line of fire.  

But would they be?  Beyond simply spreading fear and hate, was there another reason for the attack on Amity Park?

Albus heaved another sigh.  

At times he enjoyed making decisions like this.  Enjoyed power, knowledge, experience, those things people tended to mistake for wisdom, even though he had made more mistakes than anyone else he knew, and all the privileges and responsibilities that came with it, all the control over other peoples’ lives.  This was a failing, a flaw, he knew, and time and time again it had come back to bite him.  Karmic vengeance for being an old man who kept too many secrets.  

But times like these…  In times like these, he despised the choices he was forced to make.  

“What troubles you, Albus?  I can hear you sighing from the other room.”

Albus did not flinch or startle at the ghost’s approach and gently chiding tone.  He looked up and smiled thinly at his former and present colleague.  It seemed Cuthbert was having a good day.  It was a pity so few students saw him at his best, and regarded his lessons as utterly boring, but Albus could never find the heart to replace him.  Nor, sadly, the budget.  Damn the board of directors.

In answer, Albus turned the letter to face him.  Cuthbert Binns was not a member of the Order, either, but he, like every other member of the Hogwarts staff, had been informed of what had transpired at the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament.  He would understand Albus’s dilemma.  

“Amity Park?” murmured Cuthbert, tapping the second paragraph.  “That sounds… familiar.  That—” Cuthbert broke off.  

If Albus had not spent significant portions of his life surrounded by ghosts, he would not have caught the subtle change in Cuthbert’s silvery complexion.  

“Perhaps you heard about the tragedy that happened there recently.”  Which would be a first, even alive, Cuthbert had never really cared about anything that happened more recently than a hundred years ago, but not impossible.

“Tragedy?  No.” Cuthbert shook his head.  “Amity Park it’s—It is…”  He trailed off, looking down at the letter, disturbed.  “Albus, I have known you for many years.  You have been here for many years, with all us ghosts, and…  You know there are things the dead do not speak of to the living.”

Albus did know.  “Are you saying Amity Park is related to one of those things?”  Could this be another attempt on Voldemort’s part to defeat death? His suspicion regarding horcruxes was bad enough, what that could mean for Harry…  But if that man had yet another way to stave off death…

Cuthbert dithered, and Albus wished fiercely that he could trust him enough to tell him about the Order, about Voldemort’s plans, to impress upon him how important this was, how vital that Albus know.  

But he couldn’t.  It would just take one bad day, and one misplaced question from a student related to someone unfortunate, and everything would come tumbling down.  

No.  Albus could not push him.  

“I—I must go,” said Cuthbert, halfway through the wall. “I have to look into something. I’ll be back before you know it.”

He was not.

.

Albus had still not made a decision on Agilbert’s letter the next night.  He had consulted Minerva, Severus, and the other teachers who were also in the Order on the matter, and had distracted himself with other, arguably more important, matters.  

(The eyes on Number Four Privet Drive, the movements in and out of the Malfoy residence, the horribly dangerous games Severus was playing, the master schedule for the next school year, the still-empty Defense Against the Dark Arts post, extra protections on Hogwarts’ boundaries, how to keep the Order safe…)

But he shouldn’t put something like this off for much longer.

It would be much easier to deny Agilbert’s request.  As tragic as the seven students’ circumstances were, they weren’t his responsibility, and he had so many.  

Would you feel the same if the attackers had been Gellert’s people?

They’re children.  Like your students.  Like Adri—

Albus closed his eyes and forced the tiny and vicious voice away, out of his mind.

“Sir Nicholas wants to speak to you,” said one of the portraits.  

Surprised, Albus turned his head to face the image of his predecessor.  “Of course. Could you tell him he can come in?”

A few minutes later, the Gryffindor ghost floated through the wall.  “Hello, Albus,” he said, the outlines of his figure crisper than they usually were, and continued before Albus could greet him, “I am sorry to interrupt you like this, but is it true?  Seven students from Amity Park?”

“Cuthbert told you?”

“He told all of us,” said Sir Nicholas, shrugging in a way that made his head roll unsettlingly.  “You should accept them.”

Albus raised his eyebrows.  

“There is a certain element of risk involved,” the ghost’s voice was careful, “but if they come to Hogwarts, there is a possibility that you may gain a powerful ally, and that…”  Here, Sir Nicholas hesitated.  “Certain ancient wrongs might be righted.”

“I suppose it is that second the ghosts are interested in?” asked Albus, both curious and, despite himself, amused.  

Sir Nicholas gave him a gentle smile.  “Do not imagine that we are careless of your struggles, Albus, but many of us were long dead before you were born.  We care, but… sometimes the picture in front of our eyes is not the same as the one before yours.”

That was reasonable.  

However.

“Can you give me any more detail?” asked Albus, hopefully.

“I’m afraid not,” said the ghost, drifting backwards.

.

The next letter from Agilbert was much thicker and contained the records of seven new Hogwarts students.  

.

The wand turning in his fingers was made of pear wood.  Not that Danny could tell, just by looking, but the wandmaker, who had accompanied her wares to Ilvermorny, had been very talkative, even when Danny had… not.  

Pear wood, cut from a tree that had grown up through a chain-link fence on the wandmaker’s property.  She had meant to cut it out, she said, but by the time she had gotten around to doing so, there had been bowtruckles in it, and she wasn’t about to cut down a good wand wood tree.

Danny still wasn’t entirely sure what bowtruckles were to be honest.  

The wood of the wand was normal.  The core, apparently, was not.  It was hair from a magical creature, which most wand cores were, but the wandmaker had cheerfully admitted to having no idea what the hair was from. It had shown up in her workshop one day, in a little box, black and white, in neat little bundles.  

Danny had suspicions about where it had come from.  

Suspicions that had been exacerbated by the fact that both Sam and Tucker had been ‘chosen’ by wands with the same core.  

Anyway, Danny had liked the wandmaker, even if he thought she was a bit weird, for using components that just showed up out of nowhere in her work.  

(She reminded him a bit of Mom.)

Danny wasn’t sure why he was thinking of her.  It had been months since then.  But he was feeling lonely, even though his friends were just in the next room, and Jazz was here, and maybe she was the closest he would let his mind get to…

To…

“If you keep doing that,” said Jazz, “you’re going to put your eye out.”  

Danny glanced over at her.  There was an east-facing window behind her, and the sun was shining through her shoulder, lighting her up like stained glass.  

“If they catch you in color, they’re going to have questions.”

Jazz rolled her golden eyes, but the color drained out of her, leaving her ‘properly’ silver and gray.  “If they actually listened, instead of dismissing everything weird in Amity as untrained magic acting up, then they wouldn’t need to have questions.”

“Yeah, but they didn’t, and I don’t think they’re going to. So, considering what we have to do…”

“We need all our advantages.  You don’t have to tell me again,” said Jazz.  She pulled a face.  “Well, you did, actually, I guess.  I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” muttered Danny.  “You only died a couple months ago.  It takes time to recalibrate.”

“Mm,” said Jazz, sticking her head through the windowpanes and looking down.  She pulled back.  “Your escort’s coming up.”

“Oh?  Yeah?”

“Or at least someone.  It’s hard to tell who, what with the hats and all…”

It was time to go, then.  Danny gathered his things and joined the others in the common area.

.

Hours later, as the sun was setting, nine Americans stepped out of a fireplace in the Ministry of Magic.  Seven were students.  One was a very haggard chaperon.  The last was a ghost whom aurors and representatives from the Department of Spectral Affairs hadn’t quite been able to dissuade from haunting her brother.  

Such was life.  Such was death.  

“Alright, kids,” said the chaperon, chivying them towards a central area.  “We just have to go through customs, and then we can find a place to relax until the representatives from Hogwarts get here.”

“I thought we already went through customs,” protested Dash.

“Yeah,” said Paulina.  “The American side.  To make sure we weren’t smuggling anything out.  Now we have to go through the British side, to make sure we aren’t smuggling anything in.”

“Smuggling isn’t really the main issue,” said the chaperon, “but, yes.  MACUSA knows you aren’t in the states anymore, and we have to make sure the Ministry over here knows you are, so you can comply with their laws and such.  Oh, and so you can get the Trace, but that isn’t important.”

“The Trace?” asked Sam, doubling her word count for the day. Ever since the attack, she had been rather taciturn.  

“It’s how they keep track of underage magic over here,” explained the chaperon.  “MACUSA phased it out a few years ago.  It isn’t very reliable, and besides, recent studies show that magical persons of any age can use magic accidentally, and there’s no good way to tell if there is a magical adult nearby, so…”  She gave herself a little shake.  “But it’s the law here, and it doesn’t matter.  You’ll be at Hogwarts the whole time, anyway.”

“You mean they’ll be tracking us?” asked Danny, trying to keep the alarm from his voice.  That could be… problematic.  Considering what he was really here for, and all.  

“Not you in particular,” said the chaperon, snagging Tucker by the back of his shirt before he could make a detour to investigate a guarded cart of ominously sparking electronics.  She pulled him back.  “It’s my understanding that every child with the trace on them shows up as a dot on a map, and the dot changes color if magic is performed near them.  Some of the more sophisticated versions can determine what kind of magic, but, well… it isn’t like they ever know which dot belongs to which person, so unless you’re living with all no-maj family members—They call them muggles, here, I think—in a particular house, it is very difficult for them to determine who did what.  I’d tell you more, but this isn’t my area of expertise.  Perhaps the customs agents will know more?  You should ask when we go through…”

Danny began to tune her out.  He caught Sam’s eye, then Tucker’s, and they all nodded at each other a little bit.  Not that they had a plan or anything, but sometimes it helped to know that other people also found a situation to be sucky.  

Where would the Minister of Magic be in all this mess, anyway? Danny let his eyes rove over the hall. There was no guarantee that he was even here today, and Danny wasn’t to the point where he wanted to reveal himself. He had been given lots of instructions, but one of them had been to keep himself safe.  Clockwork had even said it was a priority.  

Best to stick to letters, for now.  Even if none of them had been answered, yet.

They reached the long, winding line that was customs, had their luggage gone through yet again.  Tucker lost another PDA, and Danny had to wonder how many more he had hidden.  The American side of customs had done a pretty good job of finding them.  Sam got taken aside for questioning, because some of her goth paraphernalia had a passing resemblance to ‘Dark’ objects.  Star had to explain her medications.  Valerie set off some sort of magical metal detector, and the customs agents started arguing about what had caused it.  No one had found out about her suit yet.

Meanwhile, Danny was sent to another table, to fill out forms for Jazz.  Again. Because, for reasons Danny didn’t fully understand, even with everything Clockwork and the other Ancients told him, wizards thought they could control and regulate what ghosts did and where they went.  

Danny did not particularly care for wizards, as a group. The paperwork—The stupid, pointless paperwork, because Jazz was going to do what she wanted and no one would stop her, he’d make sure of it—made him angry.  A lot of things made him angry, lately, when they didn’t just make him depressed or sullen.  

“Breathe, Danny,” said Jazz, leaning down, next to his ear. “The language in this is stupid, but I don’t mind being called names.  We both know they’re wrong, and what they think isn’t important anyway, yeah?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, forcing his muscles to relax.  He finished the paperwork.  

They passed through the last customs barrier together, and soon found themselves in a large atrium with a large, extremely gaudy, gold fountain in the center.  

Now, Danny had to admit, he had only the briefest of encounters with house elves and goblins, and none at all with centaurs, but he couldn’t imagine that the look of adoration on their faces was at all accurate. At least not for the species as a whole.

He tried to imagine the statue with a ghost in it, with a half-ghost in it, and he just—

Yeah.  No.

Wizards.  

Or, at least, these wizards.  Whatever.  

They found a bench off to one side, to wait for the Hogwarts representatives.  Danny had to wonder how they’d find them.  Would they hold signs?  Seemed probable.  Everything in the ‘wizarding world’ seemed to be stuck fifty years back in time, if not more.

Or, maybe, the chaperon knew who they were meeting and would wave at them.  Like she was doing now.  

Okay, so, Danny had to check himself to make sure he wasn’t coming up with random prejudices.  Ancients.  If his first encounter with the supernatural had been those people in cloaks showing up out of thin air and starting to kill people, he’d probably never be able to pull himself out of that mindset.  

Not all wizards were terrible.  Like the wandmaker.  She was okay.

He took the time to assess the two witches who had come to pick them up.  They were opposites of each other, at least in appearance.  One was tall, thin, and severe, almost sharp.  The other was short and round and sort of soft around the edges.  The only areas in which they demonstrated similarity were their age and apparent gender.

“Alright, kids.  This is Professor McGonagall,” she gestured to the taller woman, “and this is Professor Sprout.  They’re the heads of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, respectively.  Minerva, Pomona, these are Dash Baxter, Daniel Fenton, Tucker Foley, Valerie Grey, Samantha Manson, Paulina Sanchez, and Star Thunder.”

“And Jazz,” said Danny, annoyed that his sister had, once again, been left out.

“Hey,” said Jazz.  “Nice to meet you.”

Professor McGonagall nodded.  “We will be taking you to Diagon Alley to pick up school supplies for the year before we go to Hogwarts.”

“Yeah,” said Star, eyes tracking a flock of apparently animate paper airplanes, “we know.”

McGonagall raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn’t comment. “Do you want to come with us, Cerise?”

“No, I have a few other things to do on this side of the Atlantic.  That’s why they sent me.  Have a good time in Diagon Alley, kids, it’s a historic place!”

.

Danny had to wonder about goblins.  Did they just… really like banks, or were they forbidden from holding jobs elsewhere?  Or effectively forbidden by prejudice?  Because, thus far, he had only seen goblins when changing currency.  ‘No-maj’ money to the denominations used by American wizards, and now from that to the infinitely more confusing British ‘galleons.’

It would probably be rude to ask.  

Maybe he could find a book…

But were these people self-aware enough to write about stuff like that?  He shook his head.  Prejudice, prejudice…  He barely knew anything about any of these people, he shouldn’t jump to conclusions prematurely.  

Not that he didn’t already know several unsavory things about their system of governance, thanks to the Ancients.  And their not-so-little terrorist problem.  And the fact that they thought erasing people’s memories with a spell that could cause long-term brain damage was A-Okay.

Yeah.  But that didn’t mean all of them were bad.  Just that their government sucked.  Which was true for almost all governments, so it didn’t mean anything.

McGonagall and Sprout were very efficient as they went through the shops, giving the impression that they had done this, or something like this, many times before.  They did not allow detours, despite the many, many distracting things on display on the street and in the windows.  Professor Sprout, however, kept up a running commentary on what things were, so it wasn’t too frustrating.  

About halfway through the shopping trip, they stopped at the place that sold uniforms.  Sprout stayed with them, while McGonagall left to go get other supplies.  It was an experience.  Other than his jumpsuit, Danny had never had any clothing fitted specifically for him before.  

The fitting made him… nervous.  

The tape measures and needles flew close to his skin.  The seamstress who had been assigned to him also kept touching him, which was part of her job, and it wasn’t invasive or anything, but still.  Also, there were a lot of other teens, and even some preteen kids, in the store, getting their uniforms, and they were all staring.

What they were staring at wasn’t the same from person to person, Paulina and Jazz seemed to be the biggest targets for whatever reason, but it was still staring.  The parents waiting with their kids were staring as well, and Danny started to fidget. Which meant that he got stabbed by the needle a few times.  Which wasn’t fun.  

But eventually that was over, and they were on their way to Hogwarts.  

.

Considering that Agilbert had tried to compress years’ worth of magical education into the space of a few months for these students, the results were remarkable.  True, with one notable exception, none of them were on a fifth-year level in Transfiguration, but Minerva didn’t feel the need to put them all in first-year or remedial classes, either.  

She could only hope they did as well in their assessments in other subjects.  They would have a hard enough time figuring out schedules for these seven, without having to account for them bouncing across year levels.  

She picked up the written assessment from the one student she would be accepting into fifth-year Transfiguration.  His penmanship was shaky, none of them had quite mastered writing with quills, and his grasp of the theory behind the spells was incomplete, but it was better than some.  She tried not to roll her eyes as she thought of Crabbe and Goyle.  

As a teacher, she should be above that.  Alas.  

Mr. Fenton did have some insights in his essay questions that were truly extraordinary for a person who didn’t even know magic existed at the beginning of the year.  Perhaps they had another Hermione on their hands, although he didn’t give off the same air as she did.  Or he had spent the summer focusing only on Transfiguration.  Or Mr. Fenton had a singular talent in Transfiguration. Regardless, gifted and motivated students were always a pleasure to teach.  

Minerva gathered her papers and left to meet Filius, who had tested the students before her.  She was tempted to go look in on them now and see how the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was handling her first teaching experience but suppressed the urge.  She would see them, and, sadly, Delores Umbridge, at lunch in only an hour.

Which was why she was so surprised to find the children in a hall so far away from Delores’ room.  

Then she reminded herself that, appearances aside, these were not fifth-year students.  They had no experience navigating the castle.  

“Are you lost?” she asked.

The students exchanged glances.  “Uh, sort of?” said Miss Sanchez, twirling a curl of hair around her fingers.  “We weren’t sure if we should try to find Mr. Snape, or if we should go to the lunch hall.”

“Professor Snape,” corrected Minerva, mildly.  “Did you already finish Professor Umbridge’s assessment?”

“She didn’t give us an assessment,” said Miss Manson, angrily.  

Minerva’s eyebrows went up.  “Excuse me?”

“Yeah,” said Mr. Fenton.  “She basically said that she was doing the same curriculum for everyone, so she didn’t need to.  So, we were wondering if we should move on to, um, potions?  Potions.  Or if we should go to lunch, or just hang out, or what.”  

“Professor Snape is unlikely to be expecting you at this point,” said Minerva, feeling a headache growing behind her eyes.  What was Delores thinking?  The same curriculum for all years?  For eleven-year-olds and eighteen-year-olds?  There would be riots.  Or at least hexes.  “I can take you to the Great Hall.”

“Thanks, Ms. McGonagall,” said Mr. Foley.  And what was that he was hiding in his robes?  How many cursed muggle machines had he smuggled in?

Minerva sighed.  Honestly, it was probably harmless, though she possibly should speak to Charity about it.  “Professor McGonagall.”

“Sorry,” said Mr. Fenton.  “It’s just… hard to adjust.”  He rubbed the back of his neck.  

“I suppose it is,” she said.  “This way, children.”

.

Jazz floated through a wall, carefully avoiding the paintings.  Their inhabitants weren’t quite ghosts, from what she and Danny could tell, but they also weren’t not ghosts.  

It hadn’t taken her long last night to find the actual wizarding ghosts.  They’d been expecting her, in more ways than one.  But they had been weird.  Empty. They didn’t have any ectoplasm in them, and the intensity that was a part of every other ghost Jazz had ever met, Danny included, was absent.  

Clockwork and the Lady had warned them about that, before sending Danny, and by extension Jazz, Sam, and Tucker, off on his mission. Jazz just hadn’t quite believed it.  

Wizarding ghosts weren’t made of passion, need, want, duty, or even stubbornness.  They were made of fear.  Fear, by itself, didn’t hold ectoplasm well, especially not fear of death.  Wizarding ghosts might as well be mere imprints for all the power they had.

From the beginning, Jazz had been less than enthusiastic about pretending to be one of them.  Now, she was even less so.

It wasn’t their fault, though.  At least, it wasn’t entirely their fault.  None of the ghosts here were around back when the Ancients and the wizards of the day came together and put their names to the Tenebris Carta, and they were trying to make amends.  It sounded like they hoped the old treaty could be renegotiated, or that they hoped Danny and Jazz could get them an exception.  

Jazz didn’t hate them.  Didn’t dislike them or anything, and Danny would probably try to help them, so long as they didn’t turn evil or anything.  That was just the kind of person Danny was.  

She just needed more time to… adjust to them.  And the paintings.  Because wow.  

“Ah, Miss Fenton!”  

Jazz twisted herself over, mid-air.  “You can call me Jazz, if you want, Sir Nicholas.”

The silvery ghost smiled.  “If you insist.  We’re going down to the Great Hall, to introduce ourselves to your companions over lunch.  I was wondering if you would like to join us.”

“Sure,” said Jazz, descending to float by the other ghost. “But who do you mean by ‘we?’”

“All the castle ghosts,” said Sir Nicholas, “and possibly Peeves, though he won’t be invited.”

“Peeves?”

“The poltergeist.  He isn’t really a ghost.  At least…  he’s not a ghost like us.”

“Mhm,” said Jazz.  “Should I look forward to meeting him, or should I be very afraid?”

“Ah, neither, I suppose?  He tends to play pranks, but he never does anything terribly dangerous, and he couldn’t hurt you if he tried.”

“Well,” said Jazz, “as long as he doesn’t mess with my brother, we’ll probably get along just fine.”  She flexed her hands to disperse the pale green flames that had started to creep up her fingers.  “If he does, I’ll tear him apart.”

“Speaking of your brother, do you have any guesses as to which house he will be joining?”

“I wasn’t under the impression it was a choice,” said Jazz.

“It isn’t, exactly.  Students are sorted into the houses with, well, I don’t want to spoil the surprise, but houses are selected based on a student’s personality, aptitudes, and values.  Normally, if they came in as first-years, they would be sorted on the first, but given the circumstances, they’ll be sorted tonight.  I’m rather hoping to have a few new students for my house.”

Jazz grinned, detecting a note of competition.  “And what does your house look for?  Gryffindor, right?”

“Bravery,” said Sir Nicholas, proudly.  “Considering your brother’s accomplishments, I’m looking forward to seeing him join.”

“He is the bravest person I know,” said Jazz.  

.

Several dozen ghosts phasing through the walls didn’t just set off Danny’s fight-or-flight response.  Sam readied her wrist-lasers, while Tucker grabbed Danny’s wrist and started hunting for a place to hide Danny so his transformation wouldn’t be noticeable.  Dash and Star took cover under one of the tables.  Paulina pulled out her wand.  Valerie materialized a hand blaster.  

It wasn’t entirely clear what weapon went off first, but it didn’t really matter.  The end result was chaos.

“Oops,” said Jazz.  

.

“I am so, so, sorry,” said Jazz, hovering over Danny. Literally.  

“It’s fine,” said Danny.  “Really.”

“No, it isn’t.  I should have realized how everyone would react.  I should have told them to stop it, or something.”

“They were already on their way through the walls when you got there, weren’t you?” asked Tucker, swinging his legs back and forth as he sat on the end of the hospital bed.  

No one had been seriously injured, but a few tables had been exploded before the teachers had calmed everyone down and confiscated the ‘bizarre muggle weapons.’  On the other hand, everyone had a number of inconvenient scrapes and bruises that Madam Pomfrey insisted on taking a look at.

“Still,” said Jazz.  “I know all of you have PTSD from repeated ghost attacks and those people, I should have known what that would look like to you.”

“Er,” said Dash.  “It really is fine.”

“Yeah,” grunted Valerie, which was surprising.  

Outside of ‘Team Phantom,’ none of the others interacted with Jazz very much.  They didn’t seem to know how.  Valerie, however, outright avoided Jazz most of the time.  

Which, well.  Danny wasn’t about to call her behavior reasonable, but it was definitely in-character. This seemed like a good sign, though.

“Yes, dear,” agreed Madam Pomfrey.  “It isn’t your fault.  We adults should have said something before things got out of hand like that.”  She waved her wand back and forth over Star’s prominent black eye, and the bruise just… vanished.  Like Star had never been hurt.  

Danny inhaled slowly.  It wasn’t the first time he had seen magical healing—The aurors who had arrived a few hours after the attack on Amity Park had done a great deal—but if there was anything of magic that Danny wanted to learn, it was that.  And anything protective.  

“Is there a class for that?” he asked.  

“For what?”

“Healing.”

“Yes, it’s an elective,” said Madam Pomfrey.  “Though it does have a few required courses. Perhaps you will be able to take it next year?”

Danny swallowed down envy and nodded.  “Yeah, I guess we aren’t going to have time for electives, for the most part.”

“You may be surprised.  Now, I think you’re all set, unless you’re hiding something from me?”

The students shook their heads.  

“Good.  I believe Professor Snape is expecting you?”

.

“Did that seem… weirdly easy to you?” asked Sam.  

Danny thought about it for a second.  “Not the ‘what does this plant or animal part do’ questions,” he said, finally, “but the practical part of it?  Yeah.  It was just… cooking.  Really fiddly cooking, but still cooking.”

“Speaking of,” said Tucker, “how did you get by the parts where you had to use animal body parts.”

“Oh, I didn’t,” said Sam.  “I just skipped those.  I’m pretty sure I failed, judging by the look on Professor Snape’s face.  My end result was pretty nasty-looking.  It smelled bad, too.”

“You’re the reason we were stuck in an unventilated basement breathing in burnt hair fumes?” asked Paulina.

“Yeah.  I mean, it didn’t smell like burnt hair to me, but probably.”

Paulina sighed.  “I have to hand it to you, girl, you stand by your convictions.”

“I don’t think it’s unventilated,” said Star, contemplatively. “I wasn’t really paying attention, but there was definitely movement in all the, uh, vapors, or whatever. Professor Snape totally needs a better teacher face, though.  Like, does he just have the one expression, or what?”

“No, no,” said Sam.  “The look he gave me when I turned in my disaster was way more pronounced.”

“Still needs more than disdain and mega-disdain,” said Tucker. “Even Lancer had a wider range.”

“Come on, guys,” said Danny, “he can’t be much more than, what, thirty?  He has time to develop more emotions.”

“Yeah,” said Valerie, flatly.  “Give it a couple more years, and maybe he’ll nail down hyper-disdain.”

This surprised a snicker out of everyone.  Almost everyone.

“Uh, guys?” said Dash.  “I think I might have been the one who made it smell like burnt hair.  What was it supposed to smell like?”

“I’m so glad I don’t need to breathe,” said Jazz.  

“Oh my gosh, Jazz, that’s way too soon.”

.

“What do you think?” asked the hat.  

The hat.  

Danny could understand the paintings.  He could almost understand how the paintings worked, even.  They had the shapes of people who had once lived, their image, their likeness, and had by virtue of magic snagged a piece of their soul as they left this world.

But a hat.  Who would try to give a hat sentience?  And how?  Was the thing possessed by an extraordinarily unfortunate ghost?

“Um,” said Danny, shaking off the shock.  “I liked it!”

“Sorry,” said Star, “I’m just a little surprised.   Are you really a… a hat?”

“Yes, I am the Sorting Hat!  It is my job to divine which of our four houses each of you should belong to.  Weren’t you listening?”

“We were,” assured Star, “it’s just…”

“You’re a hat,” finished Tucker.  “Did you used to be a wizard or something?”

“Goodness, no, I was Godric Gryffindor’s hat!  He enchanted me.”

“So, are you like a computer program?” continued Tucker. “Are you an AI?”

“No Skynet,” muttered Sam.  

“Why do you guys keep thinking I’m going to make Skynet?”

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.  The other teachers were all present, except for the headmaster and Professor Umbridge.  Their absences had not been explained.  

“When you hear your name,” said McGonagall, “please come up and put the Sorting Hat on.  It also usually helps if you sit down on the stool.  Once the hat has determined your house, take it off, and put it down for the next person to use.”

Alright.  That sounded easy enough.  Danny wasn’t quite sure why such a big production was being made of this.  A few comments from the teachers and the ghosts—not that Danny had talked to them very much, this was the first full day they’d been at the school—suggested there was some kind of rivalry between the houses, but it couldn’t be that bad.  It was school.  

Except Casper High had its nasty cliques, too, and he could just imagine how school-sanctioned cliques would work out. Especially if they were backed up by centuries of history and a magic personality test.  

Fun.  

Not.

He hoped he, Sam, and Tucker would all be in the same house. And that Dash wouldn’t revert to being a bully as soon as other students were added to the mix.  And that…  Oh, he hoped a lot of things, but he would be thankful if the ‘school’ part of this whole ordeal was as easy and drama-free as possible.

After all, he had other things to worry about.

“Baxter, Dash,” said McGonagall, evenly.  

“Good luck, man,” said Tucker, holding up his thumbs. Everyone mirrored him.  

Dash looked very strange, sitting on that small stool, but he wasn’t on it for more than a second before the hat shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!”

The hat was very loud.  Dash returned to the bench with a confused expression on his face.

“Fenton, Daniel.”

Danny stood up slowly.  He had expected something more like a conversation.  Was this a mind reading hat?  Was the ‘take a peek inside your head’ bit literal?  

Ugh, this was going to be a pain.  Good thing he had a lot of practice in compartmentalizing.  

“Ah, a burgeoning occlumens!” said the hat in its warm voice. “How unusual.”

“I have no idea what that means,” said Danny, mildly.  

“Oh, I’m sure your teachers will explain it to you.  I won’t take the pleasure from them.”  

The voice was, Danny decided, more than half in his head, which was…  Unsettling. Voices in his head usually either meant mind control, some jerk with telepathy, or someone trying to overshadow him. He didn’t like this.  He really didn’t like this.  

“No need to be so nervous,” said the hat.  “I keep everything strictly confidential.”

“Forgive me if I’m not reassured,” said Danny.  

“Hmf.  In any case, you have traits that would do you well in any of the houses.  Perhaps not Ravenclaw, though.  As clever as you are, you are behind academically.  You need a more nurturing environment, I imagine. As for the others… You are brave. You love your friends.  You’d do anything for them?”

“Yeah,” said Danny.  

“And there’s… something else you need to do?”

Danny was silent.  

“I can’t see it very clearly, but it is an important task?”

Danny shrugged.  

“A goal.”

“Sure.”

“I think, then, the choice is between the badger and the snake,” said the hat.  “But I believe the decisive phrase here is ‘do anything.’  Therefore, you will be SLYTHERIN!”

Wow.  Even bracing himself, that had been loud.

Danny stood up and carefully deposited the hat back on the stool.  He noticed on his way back to the bench that more than one teacher looked flabbergasted, and several spectating ghosts looked disappointed.  Almost crushed.  He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.  Yes, he was a celebrity among the undead, no he couldn’t be in two houses at once. They should have prepared themselves.

Not to mention that, as important as education was, it was somewhat secondary to his true goals here.  Which the ghosts partially knew about.  

“Foley, Tucker.”

.

“I can’t believe it,” said Filius later that evening when all the teachers (sans Umbridge) gathered for a drink.  

“I did say you would find the results surprising,” said Sybill, smugly.  

“Two muggle-born American transfer students in Slytherin,” said Filius, wonderingly.  “I didn’t expect to get any of them for Ravenclaw, but Slytherin?”

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t denigrate my house, Filius,” said Severus.  

The diminutive teacher waved his hand.  “Oh, that’s not my intention.  But you have to admit, it seems like a strange choice.”

“They aren’t really muggle-born, though, are they?” asked Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank, opting for tea instead of wine.  “I’m not sure about the Sanchezes, but the Fentons were quite prominent, back in the day, weren’t they?  At least, one of their ancestors wrote the first English book on new world magical creatures.”

“Muggle-borns and half-bloods are chosen for Slytherin all the time,” said Severus, annoyance clearly increasing.  “Not, perhaps, as often as for the other houses, but it does happen regularly.  You don’t have to be so shocked.”

“It’s nothing against Slytherin,” assured Pomona.  “We were just expecting them to get split between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor.  American stereotypes in play, I suppose.”

“Mm,” said Septima, who was doodling equations on the back of her wrist.  “On my end, my thought process was more that they wouldn’t do well trying to play catchup in Ravenclaw, and they wouldn’t have the ambition and drive to hold their own in Slytherin.  The Sorting Hat disagreed.”

“Evidently,” said Severus.  He didn’t look especially pleased, but then he never did.  

“Better you than me,” said Filius, after a few minutes.  “I can’t imagine it will be easy integrating them.”

Minerva, who had three of the students, laughed, “You aren’t getting out of it that easy, Filius.  They still have charms.  How did they do, by the way?  We never really got around to discussing it.”

“None of them were brilliant,” said Filius.  “But they have promise.  I was wondering what you all thought about doing an accelerated class for some of them, to get them to a higher year-level.”

.

Being on the Hogwarts Express without Ron at his side felt wrong.  Sure, he wasn’t entirely alone, Ginny was with him, and Hegwig, but it felt different. He felt exposed.  

Although, that might have had something to do with all the people staring and pointing at him.  

The Daily Prophet had spent most of the summer convincing everyone he was a lying show-off.  The only things that had really competed with the ‘Harry Potter is delusional’ articles were the ‘haha, America is going to hell in a handbasket, aren’t we glad we aren’t them?’ articles.  

(Harry wouldn’t have even cast a glance at the second, except that he and the others had overheard some of the Order members mention Death Eaters had been behind the attack on the muggle town.  Even so, reading them made him feel grimy.)

They had to go all the way to the end of the train to get away from the unfriendly eyes, and that’s where they found Neville.  

“Hi, Harry,” he said, out of breath.  “Hi, Ginny…  Everywhere’s full… I can’t find a seat…”

Ginny squeezed past him to look at the compartments behind him.  “What are you talking about?  There’s room in this one, there’s only Loony Lovegood in here—”

“I don’t want to disturb her—”

“Don’t be silly, she’s alright.”  She slid the door open and pulled her trunk in.  “Hi, Luna.  Is it okay if we take these seats?”

It took a couple minutes to get situated in the compartment, during which time Harry tried not to stare at Luna Lovegood very much.  The blonde girl was surrounded by an aura of almost impenetrable oddness.  

“Have a good summer, Luna?” asked Ginny.  

Luna opened her mouth to answer, then closed it, frowning. “No, actually.  My father had some friends in Amity Park.  The town in America, you know.”  She turned her head slightly.  “You’re Harry Potter.”

“I know I am,” said Harry.  

The four of them then proceeded to have a fairly enjoyable conversation, right up until Neville’s mimbulus mimbletonia sprayed them all with rancid sap and Cho Chang opened the compartment door.  

Cho Chang who he had a crush on.

Yeah.

Harry had a strong desire to curl up and die.  

Ron and Hermione did not turn up for over an hour, by which time the food trolley had come and gone, and most of the bounty acquired from it had been eaten.  

“Oh, you have food.  Brilliant,” said Ron, taking a Chocolate frog from Harry and throwing himself into the seat next to him.  “You won’t believe what happened.”

“Malfoy’s Slytherin prefect?” asked Harry.  The fear had been buzzing in the back of his head ever since Ron and Hermione had gotten their badges.  

“Well, yeah,” said Ron.  

“And that complete cow Pansy Parkinson,” said Hermione.  

“But that’s not the real surprise,” said Ron, oddly dismissive. “You remember all those articles in the Prophet?  Not the ones about you.  About that town, in America?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, some of kids who survived were wizards.”

“And witches,” added Hermione.  She pulled Crookshanks into her lap.  

“Well, apparently their ministry didn’t think they’d be safe over there, so they sent them here.  Seven of ‘em.”

“What?  They think it’s safe here?” In Hogwarts, maybe it was, except Harry had been snatched away even with all eyes on him, in the middle of a heavily attended competition.  “With Voldemort on the loose?”

Everyone flinched.  

“Well, that isn’t exactly being publicized,” said Hermione. “Not—Not in the right way.  Besides, none of them knew about magic before this summer.  They’re all our age, though.  It must have been a shock.  Especially after losing their families like that.”  She shuddered.  “We’ve been asked to help them acclimate.  That’s why the meeting ran so long.”  

“Are they in Gryffindor, then?” asked Luna.  

“They’re sort of spread out,” said Hermione.  “They’re in all the houses but Ravenclaw.”

“And I’m still not sure how they got put into Slytherin if they’re muggleborn,” said Ron, who had tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling.  “It doesn’t make sense,” he complained.

“Merlin was muggleborn,” said Luna.  “He was a Slytherin.  I’m sure there were others.”

Ron pulled a face.  

(Harry thought about Voldemort—About Tom Riddle and his muggle father.)

“Anyway,” said Hermione.  “We have three of them.  Hufflepuff and Slytherin each have two.”

First Death Eaters in America, and now Slytherins from there?  Harry shook himself internally.  No, it probably didn’t mean anything.  

“We probably won’t see much of them,” said Ron.  “They’re taking mostly remedial classes.  First and second year stuff.”

“Say,” said Luna, “do you know who the prefects are for the other houses?”

“Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw,” said Hermione.  

“And Ernie Macmillian and Hannah Abbot for Hufflepuff,” added Ron.  “You know, other than helping keep track of the younger kids and patrolling corridors every so often, there’s not really much we’re supposed to do as prefects.  From how Percy talked about it, I always sort of thought there’d be more.”  Then he grinned.  “We can give punishments out if people are misbehaving.  I can’t wait to get Crabbe and Goyle for something…”

Predictably, this set off Hermione.

.

“There’s nothing else about the Americans?” asked Draco, frowning. “I’m not sure how we’re expected to ‘help them acclimate’ with so little information.”

The Head Girl rolled her eyes.  “You’re expected to talk to them,” she said.  “Considering that they’re real human beings and all. They’ve been through a lot, apparently, and I can appreciate them not wanting to have it spread around.”

Unspoken was the ‘do you?’ at the end of her sentence.  Draco let his lip curl.  People from other houses were always so eager to think the worst of Slytherin when all they were trying to be was logical.  

“I’ll do that, then,” said Draco, stepping out of the prefects’ carriage.  He needed to find Crabbe and Goyle.  Annoying. As much as he was their leader, and he watched them, they were also there to watch him and—

(Draco chose not to think of the people who had arrived at Malfoy Manor over the Summer, of the things he’d seen.)

(When he was quite young, he’d read a book about muggle Germany during the time of Grindelwald, and how Grindelwald had subtly influenced things in that country.  He’d always been struck by the use of informants, of how everyone had been convinced to watch one another and report those who stepped out of line.  He found he could appreciate it even more now that he was inside a similar trap.)

But the Americans.  It was so odd.  They couldn’t have any lineage to speak of.  Not if they were living like muggles in some backwater town.  

… some backwater town the Dark Lord had seen fit to destroy.

… ‘Fenton’ sounded vaguely familiar.  

… Perhaps ‘Sanchez’ was from a Spanish pureblood line.

Draco would have to do research.  He was good at that.  But whatever he found, he’d have to keep an eye on the Americans.  

If nothing else, it would be good to have friends overseas.

.

“We’ll be in different dorms after this,” said Danny, vaguely depressed.  “Different classes, too, most of the time.”

“We can still see each other during the day,” said Sam.  “I think the only meal that’s segregated by house is dinner, anyway.  We should be able to hang out at all the other times.”

Danny sighed.  He had yet to have much success in his missions.  

He’d felt something wrong on the seventh floor, but he hadn’t been able to pinpoint it.  He’d found a giant inaccessible dungeon full of snake statues, a snake skeleton, and a number of other somewhat questionable things underneath the school. There had been an echo of something there, but whatever it was had been long gone by the time Danny got there. He also had the faint sense of a ghost—a real ghost—beginning to form there, and he hoped he hadn’t messed it up by spreading his ectoplasm around.  

On the second front, he hadn’t heard anything from any of the leaders of the wizarding world.  Unless he counted a reply from a secretary who thought he was disturbed.  

But there was one bright spot.  They’d met the Headmaster yesterday, and Danny was certain the man’s wand was one of the two subjects of his third quest.  Which was hilarious.  Out of everything, he’d thought the Hallows would be the hardest to find.  

Not that he could just take it.  Not now.  Not yet. Not with everything else still so uncertain and Clockwork’s quiet assurance that he would find most of what he needed to at Hogwarts.  

(Clockwork and the Lady had made a deal with him, bound in old magic and ghost law.  Three tasks. Three nearly impossible quests, but at the end of them, the one who had destroyed half of his world, who had harmed his people, would be gone, and in the meantime Amity Park would be protected. Danny knew he had gotten the better half of the deal, with Clockwork practically on his side.  Even with the… other requirements.  Still, he couldn’t help but feel discouraged.)

So, he’d stay, and wait, and keep a careful eye on the Headmaster, and try to find the thing on the seventh floor, and figure out what spells worked on ghosts and if he could circumvent them, and figure out how to intercept at least one magical head of state, and, and, and…

Ugh.  

“If we aren’t too busy,” said Danny.  

“You know we’re here to help,” said Tucker, prodding Danny’s side.  “And even if the rest of them don’t know about, you know, I think they’d be willing to help, too.”

“Within reason,” said Sam.  

It was true.  Surviving near-death experiences together tended to make people—well.  Not necessarily friends, but something more than mere acquaintances.  Allies, at the very least.

(Especially if a lot of other people had died at the same time, and the survivors were holding on to the relationships they still had with all their strength.)

“I know,” said Danny.  He bit his lip.  “There’s something on the seventh floor, I think.  Need more time to figure out what, though.”

“We’ll keep an eye out,” promised Sam.  

“And an ear, too,” said Tucker, tapping his.  “I’m sure there’ll be lots of rumors and legends in a place like this.”

“Me too.  Jazz has been interrogating the paintings, you know.”  He frowned.  “They’re so weird.”

“Everything about this is weird,” said Sam.  “Can’t believe we thought ghosts were the whole extent of the supernatural.  It seems so dumb, now.”

“Not really,” said Danny.  “I mean, ghosts were all that we saw, and they didn’t really mention anything else.”  He sighed. “Guess we should get ready for the feast or whatever?”

“Yeah,” said Sam, standing.  “Good luck meeting your classmates.  Housemates?  How are we even supposed to say that?”

“I don’t know,” said Danny.  He sighed.  “At least we each have at least one person from Casper with us.”

“That’s true,” said Tucker.  “Can’t say I feel like I have much in common with Star, though. Other than,” he gestured, vaguely, “all the Amity Park stuff.”

Sam raised an eyebrow.  “And you think I have a lot in common with Dash?”

“You have a lot in common with Valerie,” offered Tucker.

Sam shrugged.  “We do both fight ghosts.”

Tucker’s grin turned slightly wicked.  “And have a crush on the same guy.”

“Take a walk off a

Danny let himself smile.  It had been a while since the three of them had gotten some good banter in. It was hard to verbally spar when you were depressed.  

.

Sitting next to Paulina at an otherwise empty table felt strange.  But it would feel even stranger to sit not next to Paulina at the very large empty table.  Danny let his eyes drift over to the other three house tables.  It seemed that the others were of the same opinion, sitting together in little, painfully awkward clusters.  

All the close friend groups had been pulled apart, after all.

“Danny,” said Paulina.  Her voice wavered at the end.

“Yeah?”

“The wizard kids will have cliques.”

“I mean, yeah, they’re still human, right?”  And even ghosts formed groups.  

Paulina nodded and clenched her jaw.  “We’re going to get into one,” she said, firmly.  “We’ll have to find the best one, and fast, otherwise we’ll wind up at the bottom of the pecking order.  You know how much that sucks.”

“Yeah,” said Danny, his eyebrows raised.  He was a little surprised to be included.  

“The wizards we’ve met so far are pretty weird.  You know how to deal with weird.”

“Uh,” said Danny.  “Is this a strategy thing?  Isn’t it a bit too late for that?”

“It’s never too late to salvage social standing, and we haven’t even started,” said Paulina.  “Anyway, you’re the backup plan, in case they’re aliens who don’t fall for my charm.”  She put a hand to her heart and fluttered her eyelashes.

“Should we even use charm like that here?  I mean, since it’s a class, now.”

“Hmf.  I’m good at that, too.”  She examined her fingernails.  “We’ll probably attract a bunch of people, just because we’re here and visible and new.  We just need to make sure that people stay interested in us.”

“I’m not sure I want attention, Paulina.”

“Then pay attention and follow my lead.  If you’re in the right clique, you can fade into the background.  Like Star. No one notices the stuff she gets up to. They’re all too focused on yours truly. As they should be.”

This was true, actually.  People didn’t really pay any attention to Star, except in her person as Paulina’s satellite.  Even Danny, before becoming Phantom and gaining a new perspective on life and the people in it, hadn’t.  

“Besides,” continued Paulina, “now that we, well.” She didn’t quite blush.  “You guys don’t suck as much as I thought you did.”

“Uh, thanks.  You, too?”

Wow.  That was quite possibly the worst response he could have had.  

Paulina sighed heavily.  

However, she was distracted from whatever she might have said to him by the first of the Hogwarts students coming in.  Paulina turned her attention away, her eyes flicking from one set of green and silver highlights to the next.  Whenever a student looked their way she smiled and waved, pouring on the charm.  

Danny didn’t know how she did it.  Social engineering was never going to be his strong point.

(Perhaps he could set Paulina and Star on the Minister of Magic’s trail.  They might have more luck.)

Before he could follow the train of thought, they were surrounded.  In a simply physical sense.  There was no malice and very little aggression from the students that sat near them, more than one of whom had prefects badges.  Still, Danny did have to fight down a knee-jerk reaction.  He saw Paulina shift uncomfortably as well, and he gave her robe what he hoped was a steadying tug.  

She returned it with a tight smile.  

There wasn’t much time to talk before Professor McGonagall stood up with the hat and started calling names.  Everyone went very quiet during the sorting, except for the cheer that rose with the hat’s every shout.  

Then there was food.  A lot of food.  Most of it was recognizable, but some of it was sort of weird.  Many things were pumpkin flavored.  There was even something Danny was fairly certain was pumpkin juice.

He didn’t know how to feel about that.

Paulina took the time to engage in social engineering. Danny took the time to watch.  They were both watched back, of course, but Paulina naturally drew more attention.  

However, there was one boy who kept staring at Danny. He was about their age and had pale blonde hair.  Really pale blonde hair.  

(Danny had thought Star and Dash were blonde.)

“You’re Daniel Fenton, correct?” asked the boy.  

“Um.  Yes. And you are?”

“Draco Malfoy.  I’m the fifth-year prefect.”

“Oh, Draco like the constellation?”

Draco blinked.  “Yes.”

“Did your parents like astronomy a lot, then?”

“Astrology,” corrected Draco.  “Astronomy is what muggles do.”

Danny carefully forced down the white-hot rage he felt at that statement.  Yeah, he had more than a normal admiration for astronomy, and, therefore, a more intense than normal reaction to astronomy and astrology being confused, but magic was real, apparently, so maybe astrology wasn’t useless.  Right.  Yeah.  And they were both about stars, planets, and space. Nothing to get mad at.

“It’s been a tradition in my mother’s family for generations,” Draco was saying, “although we occasionally make some allowances for other traditions.  My mother’s name is Narcissa, for example.  Is there anything similar in your family?”

“Dad’s side does ‘J’ names for the first born.  Jazz got stuck with that.”

The boy’s eyebrows went up.  “You have a sister?  She isn’t magical?”

“Magical enough to haunt me,” said Danny.  

“Pardon?”

“She died.  She’s around here somewhere, though.”  He gestured vaguely.  “Didn’t want to be around big crowds.  I think she said she was going to hang out with Myrtle?”

“Myrtle?  Do you mean Moaning Myrtle?  Who haunts the bathrooms?”

This time, the reaction Danny suppressed was a cringe, the emotion embarrassment on behalf of the young witch ghost.  “She just introduced herself as Myrtle.  Well, Myrtle Warren, but…  Yeah.  It’s kind of rude to describe someone as moaning, isn’t it?”

The boy puffed up, slightly, clearly offended.  

Oh, dear.  

.

The Americans were… interesting, Harry thought.  

Ron and Hermione had sat near them as part of their ‘prefect duties,’ with Harry and therefore Ginny and Neville following after.  

Well.  That may have had more to do with curiosity than anything else.  

They introduced themselves by their first names only. Dash, Valerie, and Sam.  Dash was… well.  Harry had encountered people like him both before and after coming to Hogwarts.  For example, McClaggen.  Harry hadn’t ever interacted much with McClaggen, even if they were in the same house, but Dash definitely gave off the same feeling.  Meanwhile, Valerie just sort of glared at everyone, resisting all attempts at conversation while tearing at her food with extreme aggression.  Sam had managed to engage Hermione and Katie Bell in a conversation about dark magic that was getting Hermione progressively more flustered.  

Harry couldn’t tell if it was because of the misconceptions Sam had about magic in general, or because Sam seemed to think some kinds of dark magic should be legal.  

He was starting to get a very bad feeling about these Americans.

.

“Hey,” whispered Tucker, while the students around them were distracted by something a rather round ghost was saying.  

“What?” whispered Star.

“Is it just me, or is everyone here sort of depressed? Like, I can understand us being depressed, but…”

“No, no it’s not just you.  Wasn’t there something about a student death?  Some kind of freak accident.”

“Oh,” said the student sitting across from them.  “You heard about Cedric.”

.

Danny wondered if he could get to the Minister of Magic through Dolores Umbridge.  He hadn’t gotten a good read on her during their very brief encounters the previous week, but now...  She gave off the impression of having some kind of political power.  His understanding was that the headmaster had a lot of influence among the wizards and witches of this country, so for her to be interrupting him like that…

Or maybe he was like Danny and weak against social awkwardness.

Also, her speech seemed to have a deeper meaning he couldn’t decode.  He didn’t understand wizarding culture or their political climate enough, despite his research.

Eh.  He’d have to get a better grasp of her personality and position.  Hopefully, that wouldn’t be too hard.  He did have a class with her.  

.

“The events of last spring have left a mark on the whole school,” said Severus Snape into the muffled quiet of the Slytherin common room, his voice just barely more emotive than during the placement test he had given the Casper High students, “and no doubt on many of your home lives as well. I want you to know that if you have any… concerns… regarding the behaviors of fellow students or… more sensitive topics, you can come to me.”

The man blinked slowly at them.  

“That is all,” he said, finally, and with an overly dramatic swish of his cloak he departed.  

The room quickly filled with light chatter, students breaking off into little cliques, some of them slipping away down shadowy corridors.

Paulina tugged him towards one of those groups.  

“Hi, Pansy,” she said, giving the girl a little wave, “hi, Draco.  We were wondering if you guys could show us around?  We were told our stuff would be moved here, but…”  She trailed off, shrugging elegantly.  

Danny tried to echo the movement.  

He most likely did not succeed.

(It wasn’t like he could tell.  His superpowers did not include seeing himself from the outside—Or maybe they did.  There could be a spell for that, he supposed.)

He had to admit, as the prefects made a (just slightly supercilious) show of presenting the Slytherin dormitories to them, that he rather liked the space.  It was surprisingly well-ventilated and warm, but there was still a general air of closeness, of security of bone-deep chill that spoke so well to his ghost half.  

Of course, a lot of that would probably evaporate once Danny tried to sleep in a room with half a dozen strangers, but, well, he’d deal with that when he got there.

.

Magic was great and all, but Tucker would trade it all away in a second if only to get his PDA to work properly.  

In the tent formed by his bedsheet and his body, Tucker hissed and rapped on the staticky screen, hoping an impact adjustment would do… something.  He didn’t know what.  The last three hadn’t done anything.  

The way the metal casing was heating up under his hand was disturbing.  Quickly, he thumbed the power button.  He didn’t have a lot of these left, and he wanted to be able to use them to communicate with Danny and Sam.  He missed their late-night Doom sessions.  

(Along with everything else about his life in Amity Park. He at least had the power to make talking to his friends possible.  The rest? Not so much.)

He groaned into his pillow.  He’d been working on this off and on all week.  Another night wouldn’t matter in the long run.  

Maybe one of his classes would help him understand what he was doing wrong.

.

Sam had sort of enjoyed needling Hermione (the girl reminded her a lot of Jazz), even if she knew she shouldn’t, but the nasty fight between some of the fifth year boys in the common room had really ruined the mood. Hermione’s friend, Harry, was apparently some sort of celebrity.  Like, in the same way Phantom had been a celebrity following Walker’s invasion.  

So.  Not really a great thing for him.  

Ugh.  Sympathy. Feelings.  She sighed and stared up at the red and gold ceiling.  If the color scheme didn’t do her in…

.

Danny met Jazz in the air over the school.  

“I didn’t see you much today,” he said, twisting hands that he is keeping carefully transparent.

“Yeah,” said Jazz.  “I’m just…  I’m still adjusting.  I think you’ll like Myrtle, by the way.  She’s lonely, but fun.  I think there might actually be a bit of ectoplasm in her, believe it or not.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.  She can flood the toilets, apparently.  Although… I’m not sure if she meant the toilets themselves, or just the room in general.”  She frowned. “Because she said something about sinks…”  She shook her head.  “Not important.  Want to hear what she told me about the secret underground room and the giant snake skeleton?  Not to mention all the other ridiculous stuff that’s happened here.  If this is ‘safer,’ I don’t want to know what the rest of the wizarding world is like.”

“Like what happened in Amity, I guess,” said Danny. “But!  Yes.  Please tell me what you found out.”

.

Breakfast was nice.  Especially when Sam, Danny, and Tucker compared schedules and realized that they had more classes together than they expected.  Not with all three of them at once, but even just two of them together was better than nothing.  

Yes, they got a lot of strange looks, especially when Jazz joined them.  Evidently, eating breakfast with people from other houses just wasn’t done.  Which was stupid, in Sam’s opinion.  Actually, the whole house system felt increasingly stupid to Sam.  She just didn’t understand the point.  Was it for sports?

It was probably for sports.  Sports were the root of all evil.  Just look at Dash.  He hadn’t had any sports for a whole Summer, and now he was acting like an actual decent human being.  

Okay.  That reasoning was suspect.  Sam would have to come back to this when she was more awake.  Early mornings were the worst.  

Anyway.  She had an acceptable breakfast with her friends and the people she’d grown to tolerate, then she set out to find History.  

Which is how she overheard the conversation between Hermione and her friends.  

“What’s S.P.E.W.?” she asked.

Hermione’s two friends glared at Sam.  Probably for the sin of eating with people from another house. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“Well,” said Hermione, just slightly hesitant.  “It’s the Society for the Promotion of Elvish Welfare…”

(Sam found a new cause to get incandescently angry about. Wizard society sucked.)

.

Harry was surprised to see five of the Americans, the three Gryffindors and the two Slytherins, standing by the door to Defense Against the Dark Arts, quietly talking to each other.  

“What’re they doing, then?” asked Ron, scowling. “Consorting with the enemy?”

“Honestly, Ron,” said Hermione, rolling her eyes.  “They aren’t the enemy.  And they’re from the same place.  It must be difficult, being so far away from home.”

Ron grunted and shrugged.  “What d’you think Umbridge’ll be like, anyway?” he asked, changing the subject.  

They filed into the classroom, the remainder of the class, including the Slytherins, their green looking horribly out of place amongst all the red trim, following shortly after.  No one knew what Umbridge would be like, regarding punishment, so they didn’t want to immediately get on her bad side.  

“Well,” she said, in a sickly-sweet tone, “good afternoon!”

There was a mumbled response.  

Umbridge said “Tut, tut.”  She actually said tut tut.  Out loud.  “That won’t do, now, will it?  I should like you, please, to reply ‘Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.’  One more time, please.  Good afternoon, class!”

“Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge,” said the class, in something approaching unison and the least enthusiastic tone Harry had heard since Ron had tried to convince Hermione to help him with his Divination homework last year.

“There, now,” said Professor Umbridge.  “That wasn’t too difficult, was it?  Wands away and quills out, please.”

Many of the students exchanged gloomy or exasperated looks. Lessons without wands tended to be uninteresting, with very few exceptions.  

(Instead of quills, the Americans produced pencils and pens from their bookbags.)

Umbridge opened her handbag and pulled out her own wand, which was as stubby as she was, and tapped the blackboard.  Words appeared on the board at once:  Defense Against the Dark Arts, A Return to Basic Principles.

Harry couldn’t quite repress a groan.  Luckily, he wasn’t the only one.  

“Well now, your teaching in this subject had been rather disrupted, hasn’t it?” stated Professor Umbridge.  She turned to face the class, her eyes briefly lingering on Harry, and then the Americans.  “Or completely nonexistent.  The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O.W.L. year.

“You will be pleased to know, however,” she continued, still acting like she was talking to kindergarteners, “that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year.”

Each word Umbridge spoke made Harry’s heart drop farther. How could Dumbledore let this woman teach them?  This year?  When knowing how to fight dark magic was more important than ever?

Umbridge rapped the board again, and new words appeared. Course aims:  1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic. 2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.  3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.  

Oh.  This year was going to be bad.  As for the day, it got worse when Umbridge assigned a reading from what had to be the dullest book Harry had ever read.  Including that one time—No.  Focus.

He massaged his temples and wondered if he needed to get a new prescription for his glasses.  The words on the page refused to stay sharp.  

Harry looked up when the Americans started to whisper among themselves and caught sight of one of the most shocking things he had ever witnessed: Hermione not reading.  

Soon, everyone was staring either at Hermione or the Americans, who had left off whispering after some pointed glaring from Umbridge but had replaced the whispers with passionate gesturing at something in the back of the book.  Those, too, died down after a while, in favor of looking at Hermione.  

Eventually, Umbridge could no longer ignore the situation.  

“Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?”

“Not about the chapter, no.”

“Well, we’re reading just now.”  Umbridge smiled.  It wasn’t pleasant.  “If you have other queries, we can deal with them at the end of class.”

“I’ve got a query about your course aims,” said Hermione, undeterred.  

“And your name is—?”

“Hermione Granger.”

“Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully.”  

“Well, I don’t.  There’s nothing written up there about using defensive spells.”

“There’s nothing in the book about using spells, either!” said the Slytherin boy, waving his copy angrily.  “There aren’t even any of the, um.”  He paused and looked at Sam for a second.  

“Incantations,” said Sam.  “I mean, that’s what I’d call them?  I don’t know the official term.”

Umbridge inhaled through her teeth.  

“Using defensive spells?” she asked, voice pitched unnaturally high.  “Why, I can’t imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss—”

“And what about outside of the classroom?” interrupted the Slytherin boy.  

“Like, this is supposed to teach us how to not die, right?” asked the girl next to him, examining her fingernails.  

“You have to practice self-defense to actually get good at it,” agreed Valerie, crossing her arms.  “What’s the point of this class if we’re not going to actually learn how to do stuff?”

“Yes,” agreed Hermione, “surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?”

“Students,” gritted Umbridge, “will raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class.”

At once, a dozen hands went up.

“Miss Granger?” Umbridge asked, voice dangerous.  

“Isn’t the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts to practice defensive spells?”

“Miss Granger,” said Umbridge.  “As you are not a Ministry-trained educational expert, you are not qualified to decide what the ‘whole point’ of this, or any, class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have—”

“I really doubt that,” interjected Ron.  

Umbridge took another deep breath.  “You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way—”

“What’s the use of that?” demanded Harry, loudly.  “If we’re going to be attacked, it won’t be in a—”

“Hand, Mr. Potter!”

Predictably, Umbridge turned her back on him as soon as he thrust his fist into the air.  Instead, she called on Dean Thomas.  

(The part of Harry’s brain that wasn’t vibrating in frustration noted that the Americans were passing notes between each other.)

“Well, it’s like Harry said, isn’t it?” he asked, once she had gotten done with interrogating him about his name.  “If we’re going to be attacked, it won’t be risk-free—”

“Do you expect to be attacked in class?”

Harry was very tempted to say yes, considering that three of his four previous DADA teachers had wound up attacking him.  

… Did Professor Lupin’s werewolf form having a go at him bring the count up to four?

Umbridge talked over Dean.  “I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school,” she said, with the air of someone who was about to do just that, “but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed—not to mention,” she gave a nasty little laugh, “extremely dangerous half-breeds.”

The Slytherin boy stood up, chair scraping across the floor. Sam, next to him, had gone pale. Her fingers were wrapped tightly around her wand.  

“Sit down, Mr.-?”

“I’m leaving,” said the boy, not deigning to give Umbridge his name.  He picked up his bag.  “Maybe I can sit in on an actually useful lesson.  I mean, if I can figure out how to make a pineapple tap dance, I can get it to fly into someone’s face.  At least that’s something.”

“Sit down,” repeated Umbridge.  “I do not know what your classmates have told you, but you, all of you,” she said to the class, “have been frightened into believe that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day—”

“We haven’t been frightened into believing anything!” exclaimed Dash, also rising from his seat.  “Our entire city was attacked!  We need—"

“Which was a tragedy.  One that is unlikely to be repeated!  Now, sit down.”

The other Americans stood up.  

“We heard about Cedric Diggory, you know,” said the Slytherin girl, coldly.  “And a lot of the people who attacked us were never caught.”

“We also know about the giant murder snake that apparently lived here,” said the boy.  

“I, for one, can’t believe that wizards are less likely to be murders than any other human,” said Valerie.  “If normal people need to take self-defense classes, I don’t see why we shouldn’t be able to.”

“The government preventing people from learning how to defend themselves is historically a bad sign,” said Sam.  “Of course, slavery is also a bad sign, and you all have been ignoring that for God only knows how long.  There are actual slaves in this school.”

“Wait,” said the Slytherin boy, horrified.  “Are you serious?  Is that what you were talking about before?  Oh my God—"

“Children!” exclaimed Umbridge.  “Your hands are not up.”  

The looks Umbridge got after that outburst were filled with incredulity, not

Parvati Patil raised her hand.  

“Yes?” asked Umbridge.

Harry was beginning to wonder if she was looking for punishment.  

“Isn’t there supposed to be a practical bit in our Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.?”

“As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there’s no reason you shouldn’t be able to—”

The room exploded into a flurry of objections, spurred on by the Americans.  

“Who exactly do you think is going to attack you?” shouted Umbridge over the ruckus.  

“I don’t know!” shouted Harry back, even though part of him knew this was a bad idea.  “How about Lord Voldemort?”

Silence.  

“Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter?”

“Points?” whispered Dash.  No one else spoke.  

The Slytherin boy was looking at Harry with something like hunger in his eyes.  

“Now, let me make a few quite plain.  You have been told that a certain Dark wizard had returned from the dead—”

“He wasn’t dead,” said Harry, “but yeah, he’s returned!”

“Do not make matters worse for yourself, Mr. Potter!” exclaimed Umbridge shrilly.  “As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. This is a lie.”

“It is NOT a lie!  I saw him! I fought him!”

Glee spread across Umbridge’s toad-like face. “Detention, Mr. Potter.  Tomorrow evening.  Five—  What do you think you’re doing?”

“Um,” said the Slytherin boy, who like the rest of the Americans was halfway to the door.  “Leaving. Like we said?”  He hadn’t stopped walking.

“You will do no such thing!  All five of you will be joining Mr. Potter for detention.”

“Pass.”  His eyes flicked towards Harry again.

“Excuse me?”

“We have better things to do than humor someone who’s refusing to do their job,” said Sam.  

The classroom doors slammed shut right in front of the Slytherin boy’s nose, and he took half a step back.  

“Tomorrow evening, at five o’clock, all six of you will join me for detention in my office.  Now.  The rumors of that Dark wizard’s return are lies.  The Ministry guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard.  If you are still worried, if someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark wizards, come see me outside of class hours, I would like to hear about it.  I am here to help.  I am your friend.  Now, kindly, continue your reading.  Page five, ‘Basics for Beginners.’”

The Americans slunk back to their seats but pulled a variety of colorful transfiguration textbooks from their bags instead of Defensive Magical Theory.

With an air of triumph, Umbridge sat down behind her desk.

Harry stood up.  

“Harry, no!” whispered Hermione, tugging at his sleeve.

Harry ignored her.  (Which was, in all honesty, a stupid move.  Ignoring Hermione rarely had positive consequences.)

(In his defense, the preceding several minutes had been… stressful.)

“So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?”

“Cedric Diggory’s death was a tragic accid—”

“Just like Amity Park, huh?”

“A tragic accident,” continued Umbridge, voice full of ice.  

“It was murder.”  Harry was shaking.  He felt like he was under a spotlight, and he wanted to be anywhere but here, talking about this.  “Voldemort killed him, and you know it.”

For a second, Harry thought Umbridge would start screaming, but instead her lips curled up into a parody of a smile.  “Come here, Mr. Potter, dear.”

As Harry walked forward, Umbridge started scribbling on a small, pink, piece of paper, angled so that Harry couldn’t see what she was writing.  Something moved out of the corner of his eye, and Harry flinched.  

The…  What were they even doing?  Why were they sitting like that?

“Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear,” said Umbridge, holding out a roll of pink paper.  

Harry took it from her without a word, turned on his heel, threw open the door, and—

Was almost trampled by the Americans all escaping the room at once.  

Dash grabbed him by the upper arm, and soon all six of them were running down the hallway.  It took several seconds for Umbridge to start shrieking, and, by that point, the Slytherin boy had pulled them all into a secret passage that someone who hadn’t been at Hogwarts for even a month shouldn’t know about.  

“Wow,” said Sam.  “You work fast, Danny.”

“Thanks,” said Danny, giving her a thumbs up.  “Got to thank the Bloody Baron, though.”  He paused.  “Still can’t believe that’s his actual name…”

“Sorry about dragging you with us, by the way,” said the Slytherin girl.  “I’m Paulina. This is Danny.  You already know these three, I think?”

“Er,” said Harry, not at all sure how to deal with this situation.  Part of him just wanted to shout.  He was still vibrating with suppressed rage.  

“I didn’t really catch your name in all that, though,” she continued, gesturing behind them.  

“It’s Harry.  Potter.”

It was… interesting, how his name didn’t spark any recognition in them.  At least not at first.  Then Danny stiffened and—

“The poltergeist is coming this way,” he said, mildly.  

“You can tell?” asked Paulina.

“I could always tell.  Why do you think I was always in the bathroom when ghosts were around?”

Valerie scowled, and shot a truly venomous glare at her watch.

“Do you think we can convince him to bug Umbridge?” asked Sam.

Danny shot a look of surprise at her.  Then he smiled.  “Maybe,” he said.  He turned back to Harry.  “It was nice meeting you.  I hope we can talk again sometime.  It sounds like you’ve been through a lot, and, well…”  He shrugged.

Harry suddenly remembered that the Americans were here, for the most part, because their families were dead.

“But you should probably track down Professor McGonagall sooner than later.  I’d bet that Umbridge put a timer on that.  If that’s possible.  Is that possible?”

“I don’t know,” said Harry, suddenly a hundred times more anxious about the paper clenched in his hand.  

“Gosh, imagine if Lancer could do that,” said Dash.

“I’d take Lancer any day,” said Danny.  “He actually tried to teach stuff.  Anyway, I’m going to go head off Peeves.  You might want to go around.  I hear he can be kind of a jerk?”

“Right,” said Harry, walking further down the secret passage, because he had been here for a proper length of time and had learned about it properly.  

… Although he supposed that asking the ghosts was a proper way to go about learning the secret passages.  

No, he had to focus on how to explain getting kicked out of class to Professor McGonagall, not on the weirdest interaction with Slytherins he’d had to date.

[luminous-shifting-vibes]

*sequel* to actual fucking quotes from the shiftblr coffeehouse discord server

once again, it's out of context because x1000 funnier

also x1000 longer than previous post

"ur satan is gnc af"

"Bestie I’m already having gender envy over a fucking demon please"

"O_O ODEPIJHFbavevisdpvfhzdcnjawedsidjksjdkoeirjfmkdsoeirujdksodifjndmksoidfjdksidfj ITS" NOT IN MY FRAFTS IS SPEDNT 1 hour PN THAT SHIT"

"AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

"ohoho sexy"

"I am very proud of myself"

"himbo x edgy fuck"

"YOU COULD SQUISH HES CHEECKS"

"he has teefs"

"SQUASH"

"good for biting 📷"

"he's a himbo basically"

"B͂̒̄iͫ̍̈tͧ̓ͯè̄̇"

"bifth"

"i havent watched blue exorcist in years but mr okumura my beloved </3"

"MY LIFE QUESTIONS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED"

"is it important information to mention that the person i put up for my turn is the son of satan" "I know like 1 thing about everyone who isnt ranboo lmfao"

"crimes"

"tumblr sexyman"

"idk why but my first thought was cowboy onceler"

"I vibe with him but he is very long and twisty"

"steampunk e-girl"

"steampunk tumblr sexyman"

"Canonically bi crimelord I agree!!"

"OOO FRIEND SHAPED"

"ARTIST SIGHTED"

"they look like someone i would want to be friends with but is way cooler than me so i'd never actually talk to them"

"babby..... would die for him"

"honestly i probably kin him"

"i'm sure he's lovely but he looks way too much like my ex i'm sorry-"

"i'd be down for another rotation! i have another twink to show y'all"

"Also :00 blonde friend"

"Let us all infodhmo"

"Hsjagdvbs shhh im on phone"

"Nix woukd you like to joon?

"skitters away"

"I have two braincells and they both drink dumb bitch juice"

"oof wait whats the order again i have 0 memory"

"i want to bond with him over cosplay-"

"Awkwardly watches in band kid"

"One day I'm gonna a broadway star"

"which isnt to say they were bad. they were just fortnite dancing during rehersals"

"I threw it so hard my glasses flew off and slid under the stage right divider"

"anyway heres my boi"

"emo"

"haha emo"

"virgil sanders kinnie"

"he looks like he listens to my chemical panic at the fallout boy"

"Bro I bet he'd kick my ass with his deck"

"bird man my beloved"

"fuck i had so much to say and then i forgot it all"

"Birds!!"

"guiguhuh"

"crabrave"

"She sounds like someone I would end up stealing her personality"

"yess name collector gang"

"alias glass aiden haven absinthe fish brick rice"

"But I have Cypress, Remure, Genesis, Lemres, and Comet"

"And she's named after a mars candy bar bc alien"

"Hey, if plato went by plato, you can be king thief"

"im not dissing my gramma like that shfojd"

"My dad has seven legal names" "bitches be like *looks at fictional character* *steals their name* it's us we're bithces"

"coraline lowkey traumatized me but i adore it regardless"

"mmmmmm magic man :]"

"°0° green man"

"criminal (affectionate)"

"he would shoplift a candy bar from walmart and then brag to all of his friends about the sick stealing he did"

"despite the fact he's canonically been capable of overpowering a minor deity"

"i would commit so many crimes for him"

"Very babey"

"Yes please tell green man he is very pog"

"he also keeps a lot of dumb secrets"

"but I will sorely miss the chaos and energy of this here chat until I wake again" (by request XD)

"i just say words and if they're funny then they're funny"

"* or extremly chaotic either works"

"at this point we are just taking turns rambling"

"oH--"

"bc my brain has a schedule"

"Hopefully they have gyoza there or I will lose my mind"

"hehe yes spooky man"

"my ghost glucose guardian"

"the head of the undead group that lives there, and we end up dating. (yes I date a ghost, no I will not be taking constructive criticism /lh)"

"ghosts r just inherently sexy"

"i mean im becoming a squid thing so"

"Raven quirk raven quirk!!"

"ł â m p"

"łæmp"

"mothman: ooh lamp you look very nice today! do you come here often? mothman: wait shit no"

"I'd date a ghost"

"mine is still accurate, i am still sobbing (/j)"

"p e e p e e"

""@nick wilde is a tumblr sexyman" is the best thing i have ever seen"

"im sorry im cackling like a dying hyena"

"you're all 12 year olds"

"PEENIE"

"He once caused global warming on accident so he could get a tan"

"god, what a himbo. i love him"

"that reminds me of my friends kin assigned me jesus"

"Man outside of battle be like: princely crying but then in battle hes like: "CATACLYSM! DISASTER! DEVASTATION!" Chill out man"

"Every time I talk about satan it never fails to shock people it's my favorite thing to do"

"im kin assigning him roman sanders" ""Oh yeah he caused global warming because he wanted to get girls" "he what""

"oh damn i forgot satan was straight"

"twink appreciation club"

"give us the twinks"

"my first thought was bottom-"

"so many people to try and get his dad to love him"

"daddy issued"

"OH MY GOD ITS WILBUR"

"Big boy but"

"anyways janus is swagggg"

"........................."

"gib twink"

"give twink then i will share"

"holds him gentle like hamburger"

"This dumb bitch opened a book that said "do not open" and got possessed by a little bastard"

"he is. fragile creachur"

"klug is beauty klug is grace i would let him step on my face"

"If I'm playing swap and I have to hear one more "Pwanet Powew" Im gonna lose it"

"Who is to blame? Pandora or the box?"

"Bakugo isnt my type but I respect the drip"

"i say like my type isnt long-haired pretty boys and girls that look so gnc that people have a history of confusing them for men"

"hes a gremlin and i can appreciate a pretty gremlin"

"that is to say i am attracted to VFlower vocaloid. This is a confession."

"note i am a lesbian"

"You may like Schezo wegey"

"why does he have one single expression"

"soul soul eater passes the vibe check"

"magic wand"

"I Want To Hold His Hand"

"i would commit a war crime for him any war crime idc which one"

"my favorite one is when he sounded rlly gay because he said "Muscular bodies keep me satisfied""

"p e a n u t"

"Klug is a homophobic homosexual its just facts"

"grug from the croods is peak male performance"

"jaw drops to floor, eyes pop out of sockets accompanied by trumpets, heart beats out of chest, awooga awooga sound effect, pulls chain on train whistle that has appeared next to head as steam blows out, slams fists on table, rattling any plates, bowls or silverware, whistles loudly, fireworks shoot from top of head, pants loudly as tongue hangs out of mouth, wipes comically large bead of sweat from forehead, clears throat, straightens tie, combs hair Ahem, you look very lovely."

"tag yourself im the fireworks shooting from the top of the head"

"i like essays"

"central time gang"

"11:11 pog-" (wait... is that a suprise angel number?? yes it is lovelies just for you <3)

"Then again im also a dumbass bitch who wonders what the souls in soul eater taste like. SERIOUSLY THOUGH. THEY LOOK TASTY AS HELL!!!! LIKE GODDAMN BRO YOU'RE MAKING ME FUCKING HUNGRY. Like. that shit- it's Bone Apple motherfucking Teeth. hell yea my guy. Im hongy now.... shlorp I'm seriously considering this. Like. They seem kinda like a liquid? But a solid? Are they like jello? The fuck they taste like my guy???? I keep imagining they're like sour, like sour candy maybe? Or do they taste salty? Sweet? Maybe some combo of two? Do they even have a taste or is it about the texture? The sensation? God my mouth is watering what the hell. I am starving. I think I need to go get a cookie. I'm gonna go get a cookie. Brb. I'm better. I'm still craving souls though. Which is a weird-ass cringey thing to say but I'm being dead-ass rn. They just.... look tasty???? And I wanna eat one. Thus. I am shifting to Soul Eater for the express purpose of satisfying my fucking cravings. enjoy"

"points were made"

"jello? more like helloooo schloooAHFJDSDAIDWNALDHSJKDAIDANDM"

"WAIT I THINK I HAVE AN ANIME GIRL BITING VIDEO TOO"

"anime girl voice: mmm! mm... ahhhhmp!! mmm, mmm... aaahmp!"

"i think it sounds great i'm going to start eating like that"

"several people are typing"

"do these look edible to you"

"forbidden gummies"

"when I was on lsd I couldn't eat my fruit gummies because I thought they were alive because they had little faces on them"

"oh shit yeah don't do drugs"

"anyways general consensus is puyos are edible, ty for your input everyone"

"everypony is a word so powerful it can bring nations to its knees"

"pls the self control it's taking me not to say "hewwo everypony" in gen chat when someone new joins-"

"hewwo evewrypony uwu deaw cewestia i hopwe it doewsnt wain owo"

"ive cooked up a sowution wiwth the knowwege ive acwued. they say a kitcwen time saves niwne, but im just savwing two. Ive gathewwed the inwedients to make a time sowbet. Thewe's hawdly woom fow seconds when the seconds mewt away."

"I had a ten year old sister... you know what happened to her??? very sad, very tragic... she turned eleven....."

"NIIICE"

"Guts dont say the secks word :( /j"

"watch your fucking language in front of the president"

"im so sorry lumi"

"i think you're like ehhhh 8/10 funny"

"now me???? 10/10. Hilarious"

"sometimes i have to take a step back and remember that this is the same guts i follow on tumblr /lh"

""ok every here's some good shifting advice!!! uwu have a good day" "yeah i did lsd and ate fruit gummies""

"i have one setting and it's whatever this is"

"my bitch ass cat just pushed the door open with his fuzzy face and now my sleeping dad is being lulled into dreams by Cosmo Sheldrake's 'Pliocine'."

"me on discord: nick wilde"

"me on tumblr: shifting water! haha funne! me on here: my hermit crabs are cannibals also i want to eat souls."

"im sorry yOUR VIBESA RE JUST SO DIFFERNT"

"u give off older cousin ive never spoken to but always admire at the family gatherings vibes"

"what the fuck"

"BC I HAVE LIBERTU"

"If you adopt me then yes"

"am I qualified for dad jokes???"

"we're all a lot smarter on tumblr"

"I'm like "awww... sweet... sweet little shiftlings... posting such sweet shiftling content... so pure, so wholesome... does not even know abcs....""

"can't think before you speak if you never think B)"

"I'm not responsible enough to be a mom"

"cat pet"

"show us pictures of the cat or i will do Crime"

"maybe thats me being a coward tho"

"MOTH!!!! MOTH MY BELOVED"

if y'all want I can make this a series bc shiftblr keeps giving me more content

[lovelyirony]

Fic title meme : pulvis et umbra sumus (We Are Dust And Shadows)

On every single document, including the ones that show what actually happened to Howard and Maria Stark, Tony Stark is listed as dead among them. 

He is not. 

But in not calling in the accident on the abandoned road, Tony managed to find someone else to take his place and escaped. 

Tony Stark is dead. A whole family funeral and everything. Obadiah pretends to cry. Tony is at the funeral with shitty dye in his hair and sunglasses that he wouldn’t be caught dead wearing. Ha. 

The funeral is closed casket. All their faces are rumored to be impossible to fix with make-up. 

He makes new documents. Anthony Jarvis, from Boston. Airtight background. Likes puzzles. Scored damn high on the SAT, but not the perfect score. 

(Killed him to answer some of those questions wrong, seriously.) 

Anthony Jarvis goes to MIT and requests a single room. He gets one for one semester, and then the room next to his burns and destroys his as well. So he gets moved to Jim Rhodes’. 

Jim becomes Rhodey, and he is the first friend of Anthony Jarvis, and nicknames him Tony. 

He grins at that. 

There are plenty of times that Tony wants to tell him. The thing about secrets is that they need to be shared. No one really wants a secret, nor do they want to keep it. But he keeps his mouth shut and asks if he wants to go for Thai food. 

“This is the third time this week.” 

“Not my fault it’s good! I’ll pay...” 

“Sign me up.” 

Tony and Rhodey gets Thai food. It’s good. 

Rhodey lets him in on a secret that Tony had actually known about since his room assignment. 

(You remember that guy’s room that caught on fire? Yeah, he swore that his microwave hadn’t been on, and nothing had been plugged in. He was right. But Tony needed an accident.) 

In other circumstances, Rhodey would have ignored the offer that he had. He had had his heart set on Air Force. But there was something about the man who talked to him. 

“It’s a place called Strategic-Homeland-something I can’t remember,” Rhodey says. “Point is, they’re a big deal and kind of shady, but not in the government shady kind of way. The only thing I can find out about them is that they’re an international company who need engineers, pilots, and basically anyone like you and me. I don’t know how I feel about it.” 

Tony nods. 

“You want me in on this?” 

“I mean, you did tell me a couple of weeks ago that you weren’t sure what you wanted to do after graduation.” 

(It was two weeks, three days, and fourteen hours ago. Not like he was counting.) 

“...thanks. I’ll check it out with you.” 

Anthony Jarvis shows up in a nice suit, stupid sunglasses, and impresses the higher-ups by diagnosing a problem with the engine that others had previously marked as “impossible.” 

He’s hired on the spot, same as Rhodey. 

Tony Jarvis gets his own keycard, finds an apartment in New York that’s within at least biking distance, and gets started on inventing some cute little toys for the spies in Research and Development. 

He brings the laser-lipstick to life, poison-drop-earrings, spyglasses that actually work and have HD, and briefcases that use mirroring technology to change color. 

“How did you do this?” Rhodey asks, eyes wide. “I swear this is unreal.” 

“Aw,” Tony says. “You sap. I got some inspiration from some old comic book ads. I think I’m gonna try a ring decoder next, what do you think?” 

“Almost makes me want to go on missions instead of flying them.” 

Tony Jarvis is known for working odd yet long hours. He comes up with results. And he keeps his head down and minds his own business. 

This is all to find out exactly who killed his parents. As much as his and Howard’s relationship was...interesting, he still wanted to know. 

His desire to know the truth leads to somewhere he hadn’t thought was possible: Hydra. 

His hands freeze as he looks at the paper file with thick, black lines all over. The information there was sparse. Howard, Maria, and Anthony Stark all died. It was ruled: 

And there’s nothing there. 

It wasn’t an accident. Sure he knew that, but there was something far more sinister at play. Why wasn’t it an accident? 

- 

He gets Alexander Pierce in his apartment with a man in the corner. His arm gleams in what little light from the lamps outside give off. 

“Why are you searching for the Stark files?” He asks. 

“Why didn’t you just schedule a meeting? I’m available tomorrow at three,” Tony jokes. “Who’s your friend here?” 

“Someone you wouldn’t want to shake hands with,” Pierce answers. “You need to stop looking into this before you find yourself in a situation you don’t want to be in.” 

“And if I don’t?” 

“Accidents will happen,” Pierce says. He gets up from the table, to the counter. Gets out a glass. And makes himself water. He smiles as he looks to the man in the corner. “Do you want any water, Winter Soldier?” 

Winter Soldier remains impassive. 

Tony stills. 

“So, the legends are true. And Hydra is still around.” 

“And if you aren’t careful, you won’t be,” Pierce says. “Don’t bring any of this up. Or this won’t be the last time you see Winter Soldier. I know your moves, Jarvis. Don’t think you can surprise me.” 

They exit the apartment. Tony realizes that Pierce took his glass. 

And he laughs. 

Because this? Not according to plan, but god he’s gonna have fun with it.  

It starts with telling Rhodey who he actually is. 

It does not go as planned. 

“So let me get this straight. I’ve known you for years and you just. Never told me?” Rhodey asks. “Why not?” 

“To be completely fair, no one knows besides a man in Wisconsin, and he’s from Wisconsin,” Tony says. “Also I was drunk. Drunk me is a terrible person who would sell me for a buffalo nickel.” 

“I’m still mad, even if that’s funny,” Rhodey says, trying not to smile. “So. Why tell me now? I’m assuming you need something.” 

“I would like your help,” Tony says. “It is not required but I am toppling a secret organization living in SHIELD and I think if I get your help, I will most likely not get fired by the end of this. Fury likes you, he hates me.” 

“False, he mildly tolerates you. You’ll be fine. Probably. Who else should we get to help?” 

Tony had originally planned for no one. 

But then there was Pepper Potts. 

She had been deemed by the media as “crazy” for accusing Obadiah Stane, longtime-CEO of Stark Industries, as ordering a hit out on the Stark family. 

She had been booted from the company--anticipated--and then Hydra had ordered a hit on her. 

Slightly unexpected. 

Point is, Rhodey brings her into the apartment and tells Tony casually that the grocery store had run out of his usual hummus brand, was the generic okay? 

“That’s like asking if I’m okay with blue pens,” Tony curses. “Also, is that Pepper Potts? Why is she here? Did you run into her at the grocery store?” 

“No, as I was coming back. Did you know that she has a hit out on her? Fun times.” 

“Oh my god, will someone explain to me what’s going on here?!” Pepper seethes. “I was just trying to get my yogurt without anyone taking a picture of me and some random fucking guy had a knife thrown at me and then this guy took me to your house!” 

She then rants for ten minutes about the “questionable design choices going on in this establishment, who honestly thinks shot glasses are a decoration?!” 

“Are you done?” Tony asks. “Because if you want to help with a conspiracy plot, you need to be done.” 

She is. 

Pepper does not get a job with SHIELD. In fact, she mainly just decides to take care of the redecoration in Tony’s apartment. 

“You will be paying me for this.” 

“Why would I do that? You’re using my money to buy everything. You’re living here rent free for now.” 

“Because I’m helping you make better life choices. I also want new shoes.” 

What Pepper does is provide very valuable access to Stark Industries: she knows the ins and outs, what employees do and don’t do, and also is very helpful in telling Tony what he needs to do when he takes the company over. 

“Who said I was going to take it over?” 

“Me,” Pepper says. “Also because I reviewed every single old document and the company was specified to go to next-of-kin. You are. And you’re not dead.” 

“My death certificate is literally framed,” Tony says, pointing to his graduation photo that Rhodey took. He had swapped out his official diploma with it as a joke. No one had seen it. He thought it was hilarious. 

“Yeah, but they can do DNA testing,” Pepper says. “This is like the twenty-first century Anastasia except this time they don’t find you with metal detectors!” 

“I don’t like that you know that story as well as you do,” Rhodey says. “But I’ll leave you a credit card for furniture and groceries. If you get rid of my drinks in the fridge I’m literally never forgiving you.” 

“Noted, and I don’t need forgiveness,” Pepper says. “But they’ll stay there.” 

So begins the plot. 

Pierce doesn’t know three things, which is a lot of things not to know: 

1.) Tony Jarvis is not Tony Jarvis. 

2.) Rhodey actually likes Tony and most of the time him saying that he would “kill Tony in a variety of ways, starting with sporks and moving forward...” is mostly (mostly) a joke. 

3.) Pepper Potts resides in their apartment and is having fun telling Tony she bought new silverware. 

“Why did you buy new silverware! It was fine!” 

“I recognized all of these forks and knives from restaurants. Why did you steal them from restaurants?” 

“They can replace them!” 

“Don’t. Anyways now your spoons match and you don’t have the shitty ones from different places. Also I painted the bathroom.” 

“My landlord is gonna kill me.” 

“I made her cookies and discovered that she likes going to concerts. You’ll be fine.” 

(Pepper is a goddess. You can’t convince them otherwise.) 

Pierce doesn’t know any of this, but he still holds a key piece of blackmail: Tony Jarvis shouldn’t know about Hydra, and he’ll do anything to make sure that he doesn’t lose his job. 

Tony has been recording their conversations for weeks. 

(Pierce thinks he doesn’t design things to get around the available technology. Pathetic.) 

He also has bugged Pierce as well as his house, and figures out that Winter Soldier is going to be on assignment within the DC area in an effort to kill some higher-up on the foodchain that was SHIELD. 

Well. 

Tony has always wanted to go and see the cherry blossoms a little more up close. 

Pepper, of course, doesn’t like that they left his boots on. 

“This couch is new and red,” she says. “Take off his boots!” 

“He is unconscious and probably won’t be in the next fifteen minutes,” Rhodey says. “We are not touching him and possibly shortening that fifteen minutes.” 

Winter Soldier wakes up to three faces staring at him. 

“Mission failed?” he asks, voice robotic. 

“Nope, you just got a new one,” says the man on the right. He is wearing a t-shirt. Winter Soldier thinks that in this situation, a t-shirt is not the best option. 

(Of course, he’s not supposed to think. But they don’t have to know that.” 

“Can you take your shoes off?” says the woman in the middle. “Please. You’re getting germs on the couch.” 

He’s confused. 

“Who am I killing?” 

“No one, yet,” says the man on the left. “Do you know who you are?” 

“Winter Soldier.” 

“No, like a name? I’m assuming you’ve had a name at some point.” 

“Someone has called me Mr. Freeze before.” 

The man on the left snorts. Man on the right taps his arm lightly. 

“Well, um, okay then. How do you feel about the name...aw shit. I can’t think of a name for you when your mask is on. Can you take the mask off?” 

He takes it off. It’s nicer to breathe. 

The man in the t-shirt pauses. 

“Okay. So your name is Bucky Barnes. Do you know that name?” 

Something clicked. But he doesn’t know what. 

“Sounds...familiar.” 

“Cool! So that’s your name now, do me a favor and don’t google it. I’m Tony, this is Rhodey, and this is Pepper. If you don’t take your shoes off, you’re going to be scared of her.” 

Newly-named-Bucky highly doubts that he will be scared of Pepper because she is built like a twig and she is wearing high heels. 

(He is wrong about ten minutes later when she forcibly throws a fork at him.) 

“Why am I here?” he asks. “Should I be checking back in with Handler Pierce?” 

“No,” comes the consensus from everyone else in the room. 

“Technically, he thinks you went rogue and went back to Russia. He’s organizing a team to go get you. We hired an actor to play you. It’s been entertaining. He got some plums. Do you like plums?” 

“Why is that relevant?” 

“It’s vapid and not interesting at all, Tony loves questions like that,” Rhodey says. “Now come on. We need to get you actual shirts. Also some body wash.” 

Bucky Barnes learns how to be a person. He stares at himself in the mirror for an hour and smiles slightly when Pepper calls him “vain” and pushes him aside to grab her hairbrush. 

He then learns that Hydra is trying to overtake SHIELD and they have a slight window with Pierce out. 

This involves two things: 

1.) Tony Stark coming back from the dead. 

2.) SHIELD panicking that they didn’t know this secret and taking another look at the paperwork, in which case Hydra will be found out. 

These are both easier than anticipated. Tony can act like a showman better than anyone, and has been carefully growing a goatee that is eerily reminiscent of his late father’s. Of course he’s had to switch it up. 

The media is going crazy. SHIELD as well. They’re scrambling to find paperwork that proves that it happened, and they find that the “accident” was no accident. That Howard hadn’t been working for the “enemy” at the time. 

The enemy was in the building, and they had blended in seamlessly. 

This all happens on a Wednesday, by the way. Pepper has it marked on the calendar and everything. Rhodey made his coffee. 

Bucky is busy slamming people into drywall and listening for any word from Rhodey, who is also slamming people into drywall. 

“You know, you’d think we’d get something like a suit of armor for this,” Rhodey pants out, slamming another guy out of his way. 

Bucky nods. 

“Best I can offer is a grenade.” 

“Where in the fuck did you get a grenade?!” 

“Supply closet. Second floor. What, you didn’t check?” 

“No sorry must’ve missed it--of course I didn’t fucking check the second floor closet!” Rhodey yells. 

Bucky says he’s stressed. He should calm himself. 

Rhodey chucks a particularly nasty Hydra agent out a window. 

(Bucky thinks Rhodey is probably the coolest person he’ll ever meet.) 

Tony is fashionably late to the take-down of the century. He’s already foiled a lot of plans, and taken a key-card for Project Insight to work. 

He waltzes in and nearly gets hit by a mug. 

“So, how’s the party going?” he yells over to Pepper. Pepper is still in her heels. She looks like a goddess still, as usual. It is a Wednesday, after all. 

“As fine as it can be,” Pepper says. “We’ve met some resistance. With Pierce gone there’s little infrastructure. You got his plane delayed, correct?” 

“Even better. Got it sent to London. Motherfucker is gonna be there for a while,” Tony says. “Also may or may not have said that he was a threat. SHIELD branch there will investigate, find out some questionable things in his file that he will swear up and down were never there.” 

“Good,” Pepper says. She launches a stapler at someone’s head. “Do you think we’ll have time to pick up takeout for dinner?” 

“Depends on whether or not Deputy Director Hill is Hydra.” 

They see Maria Hill pass by in a blur, yelling as she jumps onto a man and sends him crashing down over a railing. 

“Lovely, she isn’t!” Pepper cheers. “By the way, I was thinking about redoing our kitchen.” 

“‘Our’ kitchen?” Tony says, ducking a bullet and drawing out his personal lipstick-laser, firing it with expert precision. “I told you the living situation was temporary.” 

“Oh please, you have an extra room.” 

“Which was an office!” Tony tells her. 

“Like you can’t have your office at Stark Industries,” Pepper says. “I expect to hear how the reveal went over dinner. Also, please hire me back. I don’t wanna be your interior decorator for forever.” 

“Neither do I, you like modern art. Disgusting.” 

And so the fighting resumes. 

It is done by five-thirty-two, with an official surrender from Pierce. 

“Thank god, I already ordered Chinese and they said it’d be here at six,” Rhodey says. 

They all sit on the red couch. 

Shoes on. 

Tony tips four hundred percent. 

-

“So what are we doing tomorrow?” Rhodey asks. 

“I am not moving for six hours,” Bucky answers. “Also maybe getting a library card.” 

“This is the first thing you want out of the icebox? A library card?” Tony asks, laughing. 

Pepper laughs. 

“I have errands to run. You can come with me and we’ll swing by.” 

“What are the errands?” 

“Getting a kitchen mixer and also making sure that my plates match my napkins.” 

“A travesty if it doesn’t happen,” Rhodey deadpans. “Pass the lo mein, Tony. You’re hogging it.” 

“I had to fight on a Wednesday and run,” Tony says. “Today isn’t cardio day.” 

“Literally hate it when you speak,” Rhodey says. “Absolutely abhor your language.” 

They go to bed, although it’s more of laying on the floor. 

Sure, Tony will have to deal with retaking a business that he knows a bit less about and Pepper will have to be trained (again) and also fight against being made CEO (but she won’t fight much). Rhodey will get a new job with SI because it’s not like Tony will let him work at SHIELD (Rhodey tries, Tony will get him fired at some point). Bucky just...he needs to get a bit more than a library card. 

But that’s for tomorrow. 

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #633: So.... About Sephiroth....(SSBU x Persona 5)

Ryuji: Ok. I know we should be focusing on Christmas Shopping and all, but can we PLEASE talk about how and why Sephiroth is in this mansion right now!?

Morgana: What?

Futuba: EX-F**KING-CUSE ME!???

Makoto: Futuba, what do we told you about texting out cuss words in our Groupchat?

Futuba: I covered up the middle words!

Makoto: Even still, that doesn't make it any less inappropriate. Please don't do it anymore, okay?

Futuba: Yes, ma'am.....

Ann: I'm already lost. Who's Sephiroth again?

Ren: Silver Haired guy with Long sword. He's also a one winged angel.

Futuba: The One Winged Angel.jpg

Ann: Wow he's hot. But alas, my heart still and will always belongs to my dear Shiho-kins~

Haru: Awww~

Ryuji: Okay, Ms. Shakespeare lol.

Ann: ಠ︵ಠ

Sonic: Cute lovers' stuff aside, let's not forget that this man has been the thorn in Cloud's side ever since day one......Whenever that is.

Haru: Goodness. I wonder what he has done to make Cloud-Senpai so upset.....

Morgana: That's what I've been wondering too now that I think about.

Futuba: Well, for starters, he murdered Cloud's best friend, Zack, and his companion named Aerith.

Haru: Oh my gosh, REALLY!!?

Yusuke: Oh dear.....

Makoto: Excuse me!!?

Morgana: My god! I didn't know all of that!!!!

Ann: Yep. Now, I'm definitely glad I don't any feelings for him now.

Ryuji: Right!? The guy's a ruthless monster! Even if he is cool looking!

Ren: So is he like.... Officially moving in the mansion now. I mean, I know people say that he's one of the new entries in Smash Tournament and all, but idrk.

Futuba: WAIT! HE'S A NEW WHAT NOW!!?

Sonic: Well, he doesn't really moved in or anything. He only comes here for Ganondorf's League of Villains Club or whatever. Not only that, but Hades actually brought him from hell and everything.

Ren: Now that's freaky.

Ryuji: I know, right. I'm guessing this was after Cloud killed him in that Advent Child movie I watched a while back.

Makoto: I can't believe Hades would go as far as to bring someone back from the dead....

Sonic: Tell me about it, but there is another reason why he did this besides joining some villains club.

Futuba: For real!?

Ryuji: Hey!

Sonic: Yep. You guys remember that whole World of Light fiasco we all been involved in, right?

Ren: Yeah. Those were some really crazy times for all of us back then.....

Ryuji: But what does that have to do with anything?

Sonic: Well, you guys remember we all had to split into two groups to clear out all of the remaining forces of Galeem and Dharkon.

Morgana: Oh yeah, I remember now. We were all assigned to deal with the rest of Dhakron's mess.

Sonic: That's right. While you guys did that, me and the other half of the group face off against Galeem on our own. It was hard work, but eventually, Sephiroth came in at the right time to slice that thing in half, causing an army of Master Hands to disappear.

Ren: Huh. That's.... actually pretty cool of him to do that for everyone.

Sonic: Yeeahh, but.....

Ren: Oh god. What did he do next?

Sonic: Nothing too major.....He just attacked us is all.

Makoto: Why?

Sonic: I don't even know myself, Queen. He just flew in and bodied almost all of us without breaking a sweat. Greninja, Pit, Rosalina, Samus, Bayonetta....

Ren: WITCH MOMMY!?

Sonic: Yup! Especially her! And I haven't even gotten to the part of what he did to my poor pops!

Morgana: You're talking about Mario, right? What did he do to him?

Sonic: Wellllllll......

Sonic: Fatal Strike.jpg

Ryuji: HOLY SHIT!!!!!

Ren: ........WELL!!!

Makoto: Oh my god!

Morgana: ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW!!!?

Ann: (‘◉⌓◉’)(‘◉⌓◉’)(‘◉⌓◉’)(‘◉⌓◉’)

Yusuke: This can't be real.....

Haru: Oh my goodness. I think I'm going to cry....

Futuba: FHJKJVFFJN MARIO FREAKING DIED!!!?

Sonic: Everybody, CALM DOWN! Relax! Mario is fine. I repeat: Mario is 100% fine! Look!

Sonic: Sike! He Missed!.jpg

Ren: Oh thank Goddess Mom.

Futuba: Right!? That is such a relief!

Makoto: I agree. I don't think my could take it if he actually got himself hurt like that.

Ann: Hey, Haru, are you okay at your end?

Haru: I'm doing much better now that my sweet little Mona-Chan is here with me~

Haru: My Little Knight and Shining Armor.jpg

Futuba: D'awwwwww~

Ryuji: Damn, Mona. You really are her son lol.

Morgana: Shut it, Ryuji.

Haru: Mona-Chan, are you embarrassed of me? :(

Morgana: No! Of course not, mom! I love you with all of my heart! Really!

Haru: I know you do, sweetheart. I was only messing with you is all. I love you too~ ( ˘ ³˘)♥

Morgana: Haru why?

Haru: I just wanted to see that adorable face of yours flustered. I'm sorry.

Morgana: It's fine. I forgive you.

Haru: ( ꈍᴗꈍ)

Sonic: Adorable cuteness aside, the plumber dad was in no harm whatsoever. And mom makes extra sure he stays that way too, cuz I just saw her hugging him like a teddy bear in their bedroom.

Sonic: Protective Momma Peach on Duty.jpg

Ann: Yeah. Not gonna lie, I would totally do that for Shiho if she ever gets hurt.

Makoto: I would do the same for Ren.

Ren: Why?

Makoto: Because you're a reckless idiot and I love you.

Ren: Love you too, 'hon~ :D

Makoto: ( ꈍᴗꈍ)

Futuba: Ignoring the blantly obvious Married Couple, I'm glad all of you guys are safe.

Makoto: ಠ_ಠ

Ren: ಠ︵ಠ

Sonic: Thanks, Futuba. If Cloud wasn't there to fight the madman, we all would've been done for.

Ryuji: Speaking of which, how does Cloud feel about Sephiroth joining the tournament?

Sonic: He's not too happy about it. But he has been ignoring him since a day or two ago, so that's something.

Haru: That's wonderful news. I sure do hope his presence doesn't cause Cloud Senpai too much trouble in the future.

Sonic: Same. The poor guy look like he's been stressed about it for days.

Makoto: While we're on the topic of Sephiroth, I think it's best for all of us that we stay clear from him for now.

Ren: I agree with Makoto on this one. If.the guy's that strong enough to beat half of everyone in this mansion, I stutter to think what would it be like if any fight him. So let's not get in his way, alright?

Ryuji: Right.

Ann: Roger.

Yusuke: Very well.

Haru: Okay.

Morgana: Good enough for me.

Makoto: That means you too, Futuba.

Futuba: Why me specifically?

Ren: Because we all know how much of a fangirl you are in almost everythingg video game related. Sephiroth looks like the type of guy who is dead serious on everything and I don't my baby sister to get hurt because of him.

Futuba: Rennnnnnnn I'm not a baby!

Ren: You are one to me damnit.

Futuba: ಠಗಠ

Ren: Okay. Okay. I kid lol. But seriously though, just try and stay away from him for me, alright?

Futuba: 'Aye, 'Aye, Captain!

Yusuke: I apologise to ask you this so suddenly, Sonic, but do you still have the picture you showed us not too long ago?

Sonic: The one Fatal Strike one? Yeah, I still got it. Why? You need it for something?

Yusuke: Yes. I must make a painting of this immediately!

Ryuji: Dude, seriously? Why?

Yusuke: I am not too sure about the reasons myself, but.... the dark, gloomy atmosphere of the picture alone has already peaked my attention. And it's telling me to create a masterpiece of it immediately.

Futuba: Of course you would be interested in making something like that, Inari.....

Ann: Could we just focus on our Christmas Shopping plans instead please? I don't even wanna think about that photo.

Haru: Me too. It makes me sad every time I see it.

Yusuke: Very well. I suppose I can try painting it in memory. Or at least, I hope I can....

@keyenuta

@princekirijo

@26shann

@italian-love-cake

@albion-93

@chompycroc

@incorrectsmashbrosquotes

@toriwest

@caleb13frede

[revivebook]

hello! sorry for the later anon again tonight, I have been very tired all day :( but its okay! I'll make up my rest this weekend!

how has your day been, though? for me aside from the underlining sleepiness ive had a good one! gettin ready for my first final of my finals season Monday and the preparation is actually going quite well so I'm very happy about that!!

then not to mention the content today!! it was a lot but all still very good and I am both terrified and very excited to see where everything goes! if I do not get more protective ranboo I'm going to riot, just so everyone's aware

and to acknowledge ur ranboo kin assignment, ur right i am a ranboo kinnie! i feel like its pretty obvious by the fact I started doing this soft anon thing to begin with lmao. and trust me i love seeing ur responses! when i send in late night asks I stay up an extra 30 mins to see if u replied just because knowing ur smiling makes me :]

and who knows ram, maybe I was going for a one sided love simon au

as ramble-y as ever - soft anon

YOU BIG SOFTY YOU NEVER HAVE ANYTHING TO APOLOGIZE FOR CMERE IM READMORE-ING YOU AGAIN BOSSMAN

You goofball. You Absolute Buffoon no apologizing necessary ever ever, never feel obligated to send anything okay?? I care abt you So Very Much and I miss u when I don’t hear from you for a bit because I am Clingy but YOUR ENERGY IS PRIORITY DAMN U !! You have absolutely nothing to make up for but. If you did wanna send stuff oh the weekends,, peepoShy :D

My days been.. honestly way better than I was expecting?? The date itself can be a lik rough but oh my god I Love My Friends So Fucking Much Okay. I want to literally shout it from the rooftops I’m so lucky I stg. And for you—okay mr (? :O) hotshot look at you go being all prepared for finals season leave some for the rest of us smhhh. BUT SERIOUSLY IM PROUD IF U AND SO GLAD ITS GOING GOOD FUCK YEAH!!! you’ve literally got this in the bag :DD

And oh my god. The Content Today o(-(. The fnaf stream fuckin LORE and then one of the sweetest ebs streams we have had in literal weeks I am So. sobs into hands what did we do to deserve this oh my god (/pos) I’m so hyped I cannot WAIT. And softy softy absolutely same hat protective Ranboo makes me CRY ok holyshit my heart I just. Yearns

AND HAH. HAH I KNEW IT !! I know a Ranboo kinnie when I see one hehehe we are a matching set :] AND HEY NO jack manifold voice DONT READ NOW!! NO STAYING UP FOR MY RESPONSES THIS ISNT 4AM AND IM ABSOLUTELY TERRIBLE WITH RESPONSE TIMES HEY. spray bottle noise NO PRIORITIZING ME OVER LITERALLY SLEEPING YOU GOOFBALL

And u bastard you can’t just leave me with those final two lines I’m going to be thinking about that until I fall asleep how could you do this to me. u r so very cruel. this is endearment bullying softy I hope you know

And all of your responses and the things you say are perfect don’t you even start. Since your late night rambles are You I wouldn’t want them any other way :D

—love, ram :]

[dreamyyang]

To All The Boys I’ve Hated — 01

Summary: “What starts with ‘f’ and ends with ‘uck’? Firetruck! Welcome to Camp Firetruck, we hope you aren’t carrying any carrots because the demon rabbits will attack you.”

or

Three weeks of summer camp with the seven boys you hated the most was a clusterfuck of chaos waiting to happen.

Warning(s): themes of bullying (here and there), behaviour that really shouldn’t be condoned, cursing, a few questionable life decisions, weird animals and even weirder camp counsellors, author has never been to a camp so spare her if she fucks up

A/N: it’s here y’all

previous | next

Your heart ached, its walls clenching in anguish. The pain coursed through your veins like electricity, the sparks concentrated in the cavity in your chest. The light from your eyes had vanished. It had been snatched away from your irises, leaving behind a shadow of its former glow of happiness. Your lips were dry and chapped, the lines on your lips ran deep, but not as deep as your emotional scars—

“Wipe that look of long suffering off your face would you? You look like we’re sending you off to a concentration camp,” your mother said, exasperated.

“But birth giver, do you not see that you’ve thrust upon me a fate that I believe is just as painful—”

Your mother only rolled her eyes, tossing a pile of clothes at you, “Save the theatrics for summer camp, would you? I hear they tell stories every night. You can recite your tragic soliloquy then. Now start packing, you don’t want a late night.”

Your body lazily slid down the side of your bed, limbs flopping onto the floor in response. Your mother smacked you on the back of your head, “You’re dragging the clothes down with you.”

You pouted exaggeratedly, speaking in a baby voice, “Sowwy mummy, pwease forgive me.”

“I’m this close to selling you.”

You huffed, making a face at your mother’s back as she left the room. After sitting on the ground and staring at your open suitcase for what felt like an eternity, you finally got off the floor. You grabbed the clothes on your bed as well as those from the clothes basket your mother had left behind and began packing. Your mind was already trying to come up with ways to get out of going to camp.

To be fair, your mother was sending you to a place where you’d had some of your best memories as a child. You’d spent two weeks of your summer vacation at Camp Firetruck since you were six years old but you stopped going by the time you were eleven. Now going back at sixteen just felt weird to you. Wouldn’t you be too old by now?

Of course, there was a bigger reason as to why you didn’t want to go back to camp but you forced yourself not to think about it. You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to mentally push out your thoughts. It took you a few minutes, but you finally opened your eyes, having been able to move your thoughts to the back of your mind. You stared down at your suitcase for a moment before slamming it shut and zipping it up, as if that was a way for you to keep your memories at bay.

You stood up, a queasy sensation in your stomach making your knees feel weak. You let out a shaky sigh, rolling your eyes at yourself.

“Fucking hell, y/n, it’s not that deep.”

The loudness was unsettling. Camp was far more chaotic than you remembered and you were feeling extremely uncomfortable. There was a flurry of activity around you, campers of all ages were running around, parents were yelling goodbye and telling their demonic kin to behave themselves and the camp’s theme song ‘Firetruck’ played loudly in the background. In the middle of all the life and activity was you, standing stiffly with your suitcase in hand, backpack on your shoulders and a terrified expression on your face.

You were trying to get to the quadrangle where orientation would be held but there was so much going on and you felt so out of place. A hilarious contrast to your previous summers. You used to fit in perfectly. Perhaps that was why camp felt more normal back then, you were just as loud and full of energy as it was— and still is. After what felt like an eternity, you managed to make it towards the front.

Having noticed that you were struggling, a boy with bright orange hair walked up to you, “Need help carrying your bag?”

You shook your head, “No, it’s just that there’s so much going on, I’m scared I’ll hit someone with my suitcase.”

“It’s fine, they’ll just laugh it off if camp is still as chill as I remember it to be.”

“You haven’t been here in a while? Me neither!”

“Yeah, I moved back to Shanghai for a while. That’s my hometown. Well, city. You?”

You bit your lip, refusing to recall the memories that had been in your head the previous day, “I got busy during the summer. So yeah…”

You trailed off before realising that you had yet to introduce yourself, “I’m y/n, by the way. You are?”

The boy tilted his head slightly, “Don’t you remember me?”

You frowned and blinked, “Should I?”

The boy seemed amused as he smiled, shaking his head, “Nevermind. Well, at least we can get to know each other this summer?”

You smiled weakly and nodded. You didn’t get along well with boys, especially those your age, but that was mainly because the boys at your school weren’t exactly the nicest people. However, you were sent to camp because your parents felt you were being too asocial. This could be a chance to break out of your shell and prove to yourself that not all boys were terrible.

He hadn’t told you his name yet and you were about to ask again when a familiar boy walked up to the two of you, “I see you’ve met y/n.”

Park Jisung. What was he doing here at camp? You would’ve expected that his parents would take their little golden boy on some sort of exciting trip abroad. You tried your best not to feel disheartened but your hopes of having a male friend for the first time in years was already making its way down the drain. If he was friends with Jisung then it was unlikely that he was going to like you for long.

Suddenly, the unsettling feeling came rushing back along with a distant memory. One of twelve year old Zhong Chenle shrieking in front of the entire class, “Y/n has boy and girl parts!”

Your eyes snapped from Jisung to Chenle, panic rising in your mind. There was no way you were dealing with this. Not for three weeks. You cleared your throat, preparing yourself to grab your suitcase and make a run for it. All of a sudden, the sharp feedback from a microphone breached your ears, directing yours as well as the rest of the campers’ attention to a familiar bespectacled boy who was struggling with his megaphone. Your palms grew sweaty as you watched in horror.

“Uhm, check? Testing? He-hello?”

There stood one of your biggest nightmares. Clad in the dorky lime green camp shirt and jeans with a cap shaped like a siren with a smiley face. Mark Lee. The tension in your mind built as he continued to fumble with his megaphone. That malicious, soul-sucking wretch who’d be sent from the murky abyss of hell to personally torture. The smiling cicada with chibi eyes could only mean one thing. You were going to suffer.

“Yo campers!”

“Fighting haeyadwae!”

“Mom please pick me up, I’m begging you!”

“No, y/n, what a ridiculous reason! Just because the boys you don’t get along with are at the same camp as you are, doesn’t mean you should leave,” you could practically hear your mother rolling her eyes as she spoke.

“But ma—”

“No! You kids are so ridiculous, you fight all the time and make it hard for everybody else.”

“Ma—”

“Nothing doing, y/n, you are staying at Camp. God, when did you become such a brat? You’ll really use any excuse to stay inside your room like a bat.”

“Seriously though—”

“Natural sunlight won’t hurt you, now get off the phone, I’m driving.”

“Fine, I love y—”

Your mother cut the call because you could finish your sentence. You sighed, you were definitely one of two things: either someone who committed a heinous sin in their past life or an adopted child.

“I’m guessing it didn’t go well?”

You shrieked, surprised by the sudden voice. You spun around, involuntarily reaching out to punch the owner of the voice. However, you just ended up punching air.

“Ouch, that hurt,” Na Jaemin said, sarcastically.

You internally groaned, you were really hoping to avoid interacting with Mark and his friends. Especially Jaemin. Out of the seven devils, he was inarguably the worst.

“Why were you eavesdropping?”

“Why are you being such a baby and crying for your mommy?” He retorted with a grin which you ached to punch off his face.

“None of your damn business,” you snapped before walking towards your assigned cabin, making it a point to harshly brush your shoulder against his own.

You heard him mumble to himself but you couldn’t be bothered to try and listen. You were just fixated on appearing confident as you walked away.

“Channel your inner Hwasa, channel your inner Hwasa,” your mind repeated until you’d reached your cabin.

You swore you could feel Jaemin’s gaze burning through the back of your head but that could just be the self consciousness that he brough out in you. Na Jaemin was easily the most intimidating boy you knew. Standing within even a centimetre’s radius of him terrified you. You fought the urge to behave like the stupid main character from the horror movies you loved and turn around to look at the monster creeping around behind you. You swallowed, your throat uncomfortably dry and your palms sweaty. Before you could reach out to twist the door knob, your cabin mate stepped out, pushing you off balance. Your eyes widened as you caught a glimpse of Lee Jeno, his face mirroring your surprised expression.

Jeno panicked, his arms reaching out to grab you. Thankfully, he managed to pull you back to your feet. Your scalp was less than thankful though, it was burning with pain. Jeno, being the idiot he was, had grabbed a fistful of your hair to keep you from falling. You grimaced, your hands massaging the back of your scalp as you softly hissed in pain. The boy in front of you was still wide-eyed, words spilling from his mouth incoherently. You held up a hand, your face still scrunched in pain, halting Jeno’s unintelligible apology.

To his credit, Jeno looked incredibly apologetic. And slightly scared of what you were going to say; you weren’t a person of few words. Indubitably, you were going to give the poor boy an earful. His friends had teasingly mentioned that he looked like a puppy and he silently prayed that he would look pitiful enough for you to not raise your voice.

Your angry rant never came. Jaemin had strutted up to you with a pleased grin on his incessantly chapped lips, “Getting kinky are we? Gosh, at least do it inside.”

Your glare was quickly diverted to him, much to Jeno’s relief. You were aching to give the both of them a piece of your mind but you couldn’t work up the courage to do it. You hated how weak Jaemin made you feel. Clenching your hands into sweaty fists, your gaze awkwardly darted away from Jaemin to the bright red ‘9’ that had been painted onto the cabin door. You were at the correct cabin but why had Jeno been inside your cabin? Your mind began to race with thoughts. Perhaps him and Jaemin were trying to pull a prank on you. That would explain why Jaemin had been keeping an eye on you a few moments earlier.

Trying your best to muster up the courage to sound harsh, you glanced at Jaemin for a second before speaking, “I’d prefer it if you stayed away from my cabin, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb.”

You could have sworn you saw Jaemin’s eyes twinkle. He jokingly stood at attention and saluted you, “The Tweedle twins reporting for cabin mate duty.”

“Fucking pardon?”

[tfw-no-tennis]

mtmte liveblog issue 9

back at it again, and its time for the shadowplay arc, HELL yeah

oh I'm so excited i love this arc lets DO this

oooh its nightbeat and quark!! way before they become relevant, which is so cool

‘one of those recepticon fanatics’ lmao imagine if they were...the recepticons. just doesn't have the same ring to it 

god i fucking love all the politics of mtmte. i love how they’re talking about the senate here before we really get to See how bad they were (we heard a bit about it from whirl a few issues ago, and now here)

love how nightbeat is pretty much agreeing with the decepticon ideology here, even if its clear that he isn't Actually a decepticon - it just drives home the fact that, in this story, The Decepticons Were Right About A Lot Of That Stuff (or at least, they had a reason other than ‘destruction’ for rebelling). 

AND THEN THERES RUNG!!!!!!! WITH HIS MODEL OF THE LOST LIGHT....god i fuckgin LOVE the continuity in this story bc the first time reading this ur like oh ok rung is old yea makes sense...but then later all the time travel stuff happens and then its like OHHHHH 

damn poor rung nightbeat can rlly tell he's lonely just by looking at him vbhjdkdfhbjsjkdf geez. also nightbeat that's ur mystery stick bf from the future js!!

quarks extreme POV on all of the stuff is so interesting, and makes so much sense bc of Course he would think that as a non-combatant scientist who, due to his functional value in current society, wouldn't really benefit much from a revolution - in fact, he’d probably lose a lot. and that’s the sort of thing where you’re like, ok well think about everyone else dude, have some perspective - but at the same time, quark did suffer a pretty terrible fate, so his fears weren't entirely unfounded...augh, its so fascinating...im sorry I'm not gonna shut up about space robot politics this Entire time

HOW did nobody notice that dead body before now

ratchet spray-painting the hands he stole from pharma to match his own paintjob is like...kinda gruesome if you think about it hvbhsjkdfbkjdf

i love rewind sooo much oh my god 

he rlly stashed rung’s comatose body in a wheelchair behind the bar hbkjdhfbshjkdf rewind 

rewind and chromedome’s tag-team explanation....ough hhhhh THEM 

wait a sec, rewind, you have medical records in your database? that is, at least according to regular medical laws, very illegal lmao. my favorite long-running theme in mtmte: the fact that hipaa and osha laws on cybertron are either basically nonexistent, or just universally disregarded 

what the actual fuck is up w/cybertronian time units. that shit is wack as hell 

ooh i love how chromedome looks different in the flashback - no shoulder tires! - that's a cool detail

how come prowl just said ‘minute,’ rewind was busting it up w/all the wack ass fantasy time units just a second ago. geez

also goddd i love the scenery of pre-war cybertron, its SUCH a cool setting like, visually and aesthetically and politically

like, i adore details like the sign in the bg that says ‘everyone’s shape serves a purpose.’ really adds to the ‘society on the precipice of civil war currently controlled by an increasingly-desperate faction who are doling out propaganda like crazy in an attempt to maintain their image and control over the populace’ vibe

good ole murder mystery setup. love it!

pre-war prowl is such an interesting character. actually prowl in general is such an interesting character...I kinda wrote him off during my first read of mtmte (and even a little during my second readthru) as just this dude who’s an asshole (espec bc my prev tf experience involved watching tfa as a kid, and this prowl is very different from tfa prowl lol)...but prowl is SUCH a multi-faceted and interesting character, even in the relatively little we see of him in mtmte 

plus it was interesting to learn later that prowl was one of the characters that jro wanted for mtmte and didn't get, and MAN i wish he got prowl bc I would've loved to see what jro would've done w/prowl on the lost light, that would've been amazing. like, just imagine the arc he would have...I have no idea what that arc would BE, but I know it would be awesome. plus I’d be really interested to see how prowl would factor in, relationships-wise, amongst the crew of the lost light. so much potential!

anyways. I'm in a very talky mood tonight it seems. its currently 4 am so that kinda explains it. ok, moving on!

chromedome and prowl bantering....in their own morbid forensic-cop way...

skids bvhjdbsfjasf. speaking what we’re all thinking: is prowl gonna keep showing up in mtmte despite not technically being part of the cast??

swerves drawing of prowl lmaoooo

AND THEN REWIND IN SOME OF MY FAVORITE MTMTE PANELS....fuckgin cracks me up every time god. rewind was rlly about to flip their entire ass table just to demonstrate that prowl is a serial table-flipper...and then he cant even make the table budge and he just stares at his hands like ‘how could you betray me like this’ hvbajkhhsfdhksdf PEAK hilarity

drift hvbshfdjbasdfj his forcibly cheery expression even tho he’s being harassed by rodimus, who is a big whiny toddler w/drift lmao 

rodimus is the type of guy who, upon drift not replying to one of his texts, would post a whole twitter thread being all like ‘these days u cant trust any1 to hav ur back...u think u kno someone and then they just ghost you...(1/14)’

again, rewind, HOW and WHY do you just Have medical reports, oh my god, somebody please call a hipaa agent I’m scared, 

ratchet interrupting the story to give a quick medical PSA....that's Such an on-brand thing for Me to do that I feel like jro is assigning me ratchet kin as I read this

also, hey, its sonic and boom, those two decepticons from delphi! nice little continuity there

AND HERES ORION PAX SUPER COP

can’t believe idw made my dad optimus prime into a cop. smh. shouldn't be that shocked tho, I feel like half the idw characters are cops

orion rlly hit them w/the omae wa mo shinderu arrest strat

orion: I cant believe you're beating this guy up. anyways, now I'm gonna beat YOU up,

when ratchet puts his hand over drifts mouth and then gets spray paint on drifts face bhjdfsvsdjhfgbjdskf

pre-war ratchet and drift ;_; ratchet’s little inspirational speech...the fact that he tells drift that he’s special...the fact that drift remembered all of this even after 4 million+ yrs...it gets me bro it GETS me

ALSO the layers in the fact that drift then goes on to become a well-known murderous decepticon...so this little scene of him and ratchet in the past gives a lot of context to ratchet’s general attitude towards drift - ratchet clearly feels at least somewhat responsible for all the blood on drift’s hands, since he saved drift’s life way back in the day

the whole relinquishment clinic thing is such cool worldbuilding, bc of course that's the kind of thing that would develop in a society of robot aliens who are only allowed to work within the rigid confines of their alt mode 

I love the whole matrix thing bc its kinda like being the pope or st but also you have a ton of political sway, so its a super important position, so of Course the corrupt senate would want full control over that power, and would assassinate the current prime to try to get their own guy in 

god vhbhjsdkbgshjdf rodimus is such a dick lmao poor drift

HHHHH I love that the cybertronian version of an autopsy is taking the dudes body apart into the smallest components and laying them all out. that's so fucking cool

hmmmm chromedome maybe you should Not be interested in mnemology, how about that,

oh god. time to start being sad about op and senator shockwave. oh god

senator shockwave more like senator sexy 

also the first time I read this I thought I had just missed his name and like halfway thru the story I went back and scoured the pages looking for it hbvhsjdfbshgfdsbj then I was like oh ok so we’re maybe supposed to just know who this guy is from another comic? but NOPE it was very deliberate and I only realized very close to the end that they were setting up some sort of reveal

its funny bc normally I'm not a huge fan of stories where politics play a huge role but I fuckgin love it here, the politics and worldbuilding is all so interesting and also balanced out with a healthy dose of cool sci-fi hijinks, so

lmao there's chromedome being obsessed w/people making the ‘pfft’ sound 

also wow yet more hindsight, maybe you Shouldn’t be so interested in the Institute, chromedome, 

OHHHH shit I forgot abt the red alert stuff happening at the same time as this :( :( :( 

AUGHHH what a fucked up situation. god 

oooof i gotta continue now!! what a solid issue, I love the shadowplay arc

[mommymooze]

Group Wolf?

Felix is assigned a battalion

warning: foul language, fighting, war stuff, disgruntled swordsman

“No.”

Felix stands, adamant as an impenetrable fortress. He is a lone wolf. He works alone. He is not a babysitter.

The Professor is not one to be refused. They argue for quite some time. Felix refuses to back down. He fights tooth and nail, cursing and gnashing his teeth. At the moment he suddenly finds himself heading to the training grounds to meet his new Battalion leader.

He opens the door to find a corpulent figure dressed in leather and ringed armor loosely fastened over a green sleeveless tunic, heavy belt with a sword hanging to the left, black shorts and worn knee high leather boots standing back to the door, putting the last bits together of a training dummy. The figure stands about five and a half foot tall and looks to be 4’ wide at the shoulders, owing to arms and legs as thick as logs, dark hair everywhere. A long dark brown ponytail swishes left and right at the back of her head like a horse tail chasing flies. Tanned skin marked with scars far and wide having spent too much time outdoors and in battle shows beads of sweat associated with hard work.  Byleth calls out and the figure turns ‘round. “Kat! This is Felix.”

Kat drops the hammer and throws her right mitt up, grabbing the Professor’s tiny and delicate right hand in a merc’s handshake while slapping the much smaller woman on her right shoulder, knocking her a bit off balance. “Lassie! It’s good ta see ya!” the matronly figure laughs.

Felix’s face looks like a fish out of water, his mouth opening and closing without a sound. This is a woman? The crone looks older than Manuela, probably close to 40 and has more facial hair than all the male students added together. Her cheeks have a dusting of thin dark hairs, she definitely has a mustache and a very thin beard on her neck. Her muscles put Raphael to shame.

Kat sets her eyes on the young male student. “Felix, eh? We’re goin’ to teach ya how to cooperate. How to work a team.“ She scowls at him, in return he gives the woman a disgusted look.

“Heard yer a lone wolf. Sometimes that works for a man, but yer gonna need ta figure out how ta play well with others. That’s where I come in.” She smirks, dark eyes piercing him like swords. “We’re gonna be joined at the hip for a while lad, so get used ta seeing my smiling face.“ She grins widely, offering her hand to the disgruntled swordsman for shaking. When he makes no effort to move, she grabs his right with her left and forces his hand to meet hers, shaking the hand and the rest of him heartily.  Felix jerks his limb down, bringing his hand to a fist at his side while mumbling “disgusting” under his breath.

Kat looks at Byleth who is rolling her eyes. The small mountain of a woman smiles widely and gives a little wink. “Go on now with ya, we’re gonna introduce ourselves right properly here.”

Byleth snickers, leaving the training grounds. Kat follows her to the door, bars it from the inside, and turns back to the young noble. “Let’s see how well ya kin fight.”  Marching to the stand of wooden training swords, she tosses one at Felix. His jaw is set, arms crossed, as he stands and frowns. Refusing to look her in the eye, he lets the sword bounce off of his chest and clatter to the ground.

---> x <---

Felix fights until he can’t hold a sword. If he doesn’t fight, he gets the crap beat out of him. When he fights, the swords or fists hit him less often. He’s battered, bruised, and can’t think of one spot on his body that doesn’t hurt. Still, she makes him fight. Still, she makes him move. Again. Pick up the sword, strike or be struck. Again. He can’t remember if 4 or 6 hours have passed. Suddenly the constant barrage stops. His eyes glaze over, his breathing is weak. He begins to collapse as she catches him and hefts him onto her shoulder, carrying him to his room like an old rug. She sets him down at the door, and he balances himself, then tries to slide in so he can slam the door in her face. A huge shoulder easily keeps the door blocked open. He grabs fresh clothes and she takes him to the baths. While he undresses, she runs the water and prepares the bath with soaps and oils. He is too tired to move. She finishes stripping him down and gently lowers him into the tub. Sinking in the water, that is the last thing he recalls of that day.

Felix wakens with a shock. He had slept. When was the last time he just slept? He can’t remember. There was not one nightmare.  He hasn’t been that tired in a long time. He then recalls …her. He sits up, too quickly, his head spins, he winces as the pain causes him to fall back on the bed. He sighs heavily. Trying again, he rolls to his side, carefully placing his feet on the floor, sits up, cognizant of Kat’s eyes piercing into him.

“You’re staring. Get dressed, we have a busy day.” She turns around, looks back down at her notepad and jots a few more notes.  She doesn’t look behind her as he makes a flurry of offensive gestures directed at the back of her head.

“You’re rude and stubborn. You’re also a big boy, you can dress yourself eh?”

Felix grunts, getting out of bed, to find everything neat, clean. His boots are polished and ready at the bed, soiled clothes set in the laundry, fresh clothes laid out. He grabs them with an exaggerated motion that painfully reminds him he is still sore from yesterday. He gingerly gets dressed. With every bit of strength he has left, which isn’t much, he storms for the door and heads out. Blasting down the hall, down the stairs, he heads toward the classrooms. A large arm wraps around his shoulders and he’s now heading to the dining hall. If his feet try to take him in the wrong direction, a hand in the back of his shirt lifts him from the ground and points him in the proper direction. Felix smolders angrily.

Brows furrowed, jaw set, the fuming male gets in line with his shadow queueing next. Grabbing a plate of eggs, bread & butter, and cheese, he slumps at a table.  The behemoth sits next to him, placing an apple and a glass of milk next to his plate and a folded vellum with some powder. He raises an eyebrow, staring at the unwelcome additions.

“Yer a growing boy. Drink yer milk. Not an option. The other is to knock the pain down a notch or two.” A nod at his tray, she takes a bite of her eggs, waving at him to eat.

He glares at her. He should leave. Recalling the events of last night, he knows she will hold him down and pour the milk down his throat like she did the healing potions.  He doesn’t need everyone staring at him here. Maybe he is a bit hungry. He eats quickly, starts to get up, hears a grunt, meets her eye and sits back down. When she finishes her meal, they clear the table and head to his first class. She leaves his side once he passes through the doors to the classroom.

“Who is your girlfriend?” Sylvain taunts the indigo haired man. The redhead is rewarded with a swift kick to an ankle that makes him yowl. He did learn a few new spots to inflict quick pain yesterday, may as well put them to use.

Class proceeds uneventfully. He manages to give several evil looks to the professor. At the bell, he knows ‘she’ waits for him at the door. There is only one exit to the room. Damn. He stomps out, she falls in with him as they head to the dining hall again. She leads him toward a table full of mercenaries. She slows to advise him, “These are my boys. You’ll greet ‘em properly. Noble or commoner, courtesy is free and expected.” The table of young men looking to be 16-30 years old boisterously greet the pair. Handshakes and introductions are exchanged, with Kat only having to give Felix one or two nods of encouragement. Plates of food are already there for the two that have just joined. One of the guys approaches Felix and puts a small jar on the table in front of him. “Name’s Roy. Heard ya like spicy foods.  Enjoy.”

Felix’s eyes get a bit wide. “Uh, thanks” he mumbles. He opens the jar, the reddish brown powder smells like some kind of peppers, making his nose tingle. He sprinkles some on his stew. The teen observes the others as he eats.

The conversation around the table settles to a low roar. He wants to be anywhere but here. They are all talking to him. He feels exhausted answering their millions of questions about nonsense, favorite foods, worst foods, did you ever eat this or that, ever been to one place or another, what weapons have you used. Felix gives short answers to every question an elbow in his side inspiring him to comply. He gives a side eye glance at the beastly thing sitting next to him. He can feel her nod whenever he’s said enough to satisfy her. Why the hell does he have to know these people? Don’t you just point, they go, and that’s it? Giving orders, that is what commanding is about. He shakes his head. This is a waste of time.

Lunch is complete. The table is cleared by the battalion. They stand and look at Felix and Kat. She stands, informing the group as to their plans. “We got a bit of a chore before we can let ya go, come on.” The bear of a woman gets up and heads out towards the front gate. The company falls in behind the pair. Heading outside, they walk along the walls surrounding the campus. Following a well-worn path along the exterior walls where patrols monitor the grounds at night, they see a large uprooted tree. When it fell, the roots lifted a large mound of earth and created a hole in the stone wall surrounding the monastery making quite a mess. This breach in defenses needs to be addressed quickly.  

Kat hauls herself up on one of the stones that have fallen from the wall. There must be 15 that fell loose, they are huge. Whole stones are at least 2 foot tall, three foot long and a foot or more thick, laying akimbo on the ground.

Kat directs her words at Felix. “A battalion is an amazing show of what teamwork can do ta get things done. One man, if he’s lucky, kin lift a stone. A team of ‘em can move mountains. You need communication, clear and to the point. Resolving conflicts. Problem solving, decision making, persuasion and influencing skills, rapport, reliability and recognition.  No prob, eh Felix? Since I’m in a good mood, I’m gonna start ya off.”

She addresses the battalion. “We need the stones moved and stacked here.” Kat walks to a spot, shoves a stick in the ground that is about 20 foot from the wall and to the right of the toppled stones.”

“We gotta fill the hole left by the fallen tree. That’ll keep patrols from falling and breaking somethin’ when they’re policing the walls at night. If there’s time, we need to get the fallen tree away from the wall so there’s room to maneuver.”

Felix is hauled up onto the rock as Kat jumps down. “You get to tell us what to do and how to do it.” She folds her arms across her chest and stares straight into his eyes.

The young man stands there dumbfounded. What the hell does all of this have to do with fighting? Why is he even here? He wants to jump down and run. His mouth is getting drier by the second and his fists begin to shake.

A merc with sandy brown hair sticking out of a flat cap tips his head up. “Oy. We’re all here mate. We can help, just ask. We’re a team ya know.”  Nods and grunts of agreement surround him.

“Who has done this before?” Felix hears his voice croak. He calls out to the 2 that answered to give their account of how the job was completed. He starts to catch his breath. He asks the group again, any other suggestions? One of the men suggests keeping people that are really short together and really tall together, makes for better lifting. Felix feels his hands relax, he nods. His glance flits to her. She is bowing her head and nodding.

“Those are great ideas. Useful information. Uh. Anything else?” he coughs.

One man raises a shovel, the end of Felix’s mouth curls up a bit. “What tools do we got here?” A count of shovels and axes is provided as well as a smaller wagon and some ropes in the inventory.

Felix starts dividing them into teams. He gets the best axe users separated from the best with shovels and the best in heavy lifting. He begins sending them out. “Axe users, clear up the area the stones are to go to. Make a clear path. Knock those roots off then start on lower branches.”

Felix stands at the stones. Lifters are in 2 teams of 4, 2 front 2 rear. “You 4, carefully move the top stone, let me know if anything shifts.” They are able to get the stone free from the pile and a couple feet away, but it’s difficult to make any distance. Felix calls a couple axe users over. He  has the front 2 lift, they can get an axe handle under the stone and with 2 more in the center lifting using the ax handle to support the weight in the center of the stone, and allowing those two to stand farther out so they’re not arms and legs all over each other. On the count of 3 they lift, and the small team readily moves the stone to the destinated clearing that is now ready. Felix grins, then catches a look on Kat’s face, she’s mouthing “thank you.”

“Great job men. Well done. Take a minute to breathe, get the next team ready.” Felix awkwardly says. He heads back to begin again. When they’ve cleared the immediate area, the first team is ready to start on the next block.

Felix orders the shoveling workers to begin to fill the hole closest to where the stones lay, making it easier to access the rest of the fallen wall and make better stepping ground.

Felix sets the axe wielders working on the high point of the root ball of the prone tree.  They work together and plan to knock the roots off and dirt, lessening the weight at the base of the tree and freeing more dirt for fill.

The academy student runs between units, helping lift here, steadying there, helping stomp a shovel in the ground, making sure the teams keep clear of each other, are aware of their surroundings. He thanks them with a slap on a shoulder a nod, a word. He stops a stone lift in progress, hearing something shift. The group stands back as a stone that was still wedged between others 10 feet up the wall, falls to the ground where they had been standing. Worried smiles and grateful thanks are shared for a moment, then work resumes.

Kat begins sorting the broken stones while the larger ones are moved by teams. She tossed smaller chunks in holes as fill, carrying the ones that could be reused to the end of the neatly stacked rescued wall blocks.

“Hey Felix!” hollers a merc with a scar cutting through the left side of his face, he’s Vaughn, right? “We’re done with the stones.”

“Great job,” Felix remembers to say on his own, no reminder needed.

The swordsman eyes the tree. It is very thick at the base, but as it had grown, branches grew out on the side away from the wall. He discusses with the axe wielders the best place to cut the trunk base from the rest of the treetop, what branches have to go so the remaining trunk can be rolled over to give the needed room for patrol runs. Those that are not chopping are dragging away the freed branches to make room to work and keep the path clear. The huge stump is ready in no time. All hands together, they roll it far from the wall. The ground behind is nearly flat except for where they run out of earth to fill the hole. They drive some branches in the ground about 3 or 4 feet tall making a fence around the pitfall to prevent any injuries.

Kat holds her hand out and Felix grabs it, accidentally feeling a smile on his cheek that he has to fight back down to a more neutral position. Kat whoops heartily and the battalion joins in with thanks, waves, slaps on the back, and claps on shoulders, as each is recognized for their work.

“Tank, finish the clean up, gotta get our student back ta class” The battalion leader says as she gives him a firm hug and ruffles what little black hair he had on his head.  Major tasks are accomplished in a short time. Not unlike a mountain being moved.

The two walk alongside each other toward the gate leading back into the Monastery. “If I was yer teacher, I’d give ya a B+.  I thought you were gonna stand up on that rock and turn to stone yourself for a minute there. I kin tell you’re not much on communication. Talking and listening. Lemme try to tell ya in a way you can connect it. Say you’re fighting another sword slinger. He’s coming at ya. You’re watching his style, how he’s holdin’ himself. How he moves is talkin’ to ya. He’s telling ya how he’s coming, where he plans to hit.  Yer anticipating what he’s gonna do. Then he feints, dodges, pulls back and whips it to a backhand twist. You react, you change yer plans, tell yer body to adjust so yer eyes shift, hand takes a different grip, feet move to shift your weight to counter and set your attack. You’ve been waving that sword so long you don’t think about that any longer, you just react.

“Your battalion is another weapon. One you haven’t used before. Gotta learn how to wield it. Think of it as a man and his sword. To get them to move, ya talk to em. Figure out how best to work em, how hard to push, keeping it in balance. Use em to protect ya from danger, take out enemies. Mold ‘em into the tools that are gonna get the job done. When you’ve worked with ‘em long enough, they know what ya want, anticipate it.”

They have arrived back to just outside the classroom. She slings an arm around him in a half hug. “Ya done okay boy. Come meet us in the dining hall after class.”

Felix walks in, catching the professor’s eye with a smug look on his face as he gives a fist pump. Byleth’s head tips back and her eyes go a bit wider.

After class, he meets his battalion in the dining hall. His plate is already there. He checks with Tank, “Cleanup go okay?”  The merc gives a nod and thumbs up with one hand as he is holding a turkey leg to his mouth with the other. The swordsman can’t help himself and asks several of the men in the battalion if they want to spar.  A few guys accept the invite, but tonight they are drinking. They invite him to town to join them, and he will soon, just not today.

Once the student finishes his vegetables, Kat lets him head to the training grounds. She brings one of the mercs with her to find him sparring with Dimitri. Once the students have finished their rounds, Kat pulls Dimitri over, and Roy heads to Felix.

“Hey blondie, lemme show ya a few tricks to take down the porcupine over there.” She says slapping the prince on the shoulder.

“What? Who the hell’s side are you on anyway?” Felix snaps angrily.

“Whadda ya mean what? Yer gonna learn how to counter it, I’m keeping ya on yer toes boy.”

Roy grabs a training sword. He’s a bit taller than Felix, with short brown hair and brown eyes. They square off. Roy goes in for the first attack. He’s nowhere near as smooth as Felix, but he’s got a lot of strength behind his hits. “Do your worst, and I’ll pay ya back.”

The indigo haired student does not hold back. Roy and Felix go at each other for nearly an hour. Felix has the finesse, but Roy has guts and determination. Roy finally yields with a sword at his throat.  

Standing up, the prickly victor bends over and grabs his gut. “You kicked the crap out of me. Damn.” He laughs.

Roy has caught his breath. “Use all that ya got, there ain’t no rules when you’re fighting for your life.”

Kat hands out a couple vulneraries. Dimitri excuses himself as he has other duties to attend to. He doesn’t escape without getting a handshake, a thanks for the workout, and a pinch on his cheek. “See ya, cutie pie.” Kat grins.

The student helps his former opponent off the ground. They shake hands and share thanks. The merc heads out, going to town to join the group for drinks. He shakes his head as he gets no takers.

Kat invades Felix’s space, taking control his life for well over two weeks. Every day they have a new project to complete, every day he sits next to a different member of his battalion and every day he spars with someone else. Sometimes they teach him new techniques, sometimes he is teaching them. He knows all of their names, where they are from, what are their talents. His entire free days are spent with them.

Kat guides him, pushes him to work on building the team, getting them all together in the same mindset. Stressing the need to be able to rely on each other. It always goes both ways. Felix is instructed on persuasion and influencing. One cannot simply order someone to do things differently, you have to explain the why and how it benefits them, generally and directly. After meals she pulls him aside to discuss rapport building and listening. Everything is based on communication.

After sparring she marks battlefields in the dirt of the training grounds, pointing out scenarios for the best use of the battalions, and when not to use them. What tactics give advantages. Gambits, useful for them as well as for you, can give you time to observe the battlefield and adjust your strategies. All the time she is touching Felix. Patting him on the back, on the head, messing up his hair punching his shoulder. He notices one day that he doesn’t flinch at it any longer. He expects it, and he would never tell another soul, but he looks forward to it.  

Felix really learns how to listen. Not only to what they say to him, but what is said to Kat, how it is done. The group relies on her to keep them together. Some of the guys even call her mom or ma. She’s not their mother, but takes care of them like one. He even asks her why she lets them do it. She explains that this is her family and wouldn’t have it any other way. She loves them all, and they belong to her and she would do anything for them, they would do the same for her. Life’s too short to be holed up in a room or being off by yourself all the time.

The day has come. Felix and his battalion are ready for battle. Demonic beasts have been spotted outside the monastery walls and he goes out with the Professor and the Blue Lions to defeat them. Kat puts an arm around the swordsman, telling him he’s ready to do this. They run out to the woods to battle.

Before he would have run straight out to the beast himself, taking it on alone if he had to, but today is different. He has his battalion that he is responsible for, an extension of himself, a weapon at his disposal to be used properly and not ignored. He sends them forth in a gambit at the beast, sending the monster into mass confusion. As his team gathers back, preparing for another attack, he strikes the beast on his own. He is shocked at the cheers and encouragement coming from Kat and his men. It is inspiring and reassuring. A couple rounds later he sends them in again for another gambit. This gives him the opportunity to survey the remainder of the battle area. He and his men strike the beast a final time and it falls. He’s already leading them further down field to take on a knight with his own battalion surrounding him. Felix calls out to individual members of his group, getting the placement of his fighters best matched against the enemies. Their movements together work smoothly, the swordsman is reaping the benefits of working together with these fighters for weeks, knowing their abilities and weaknesses like his own. They plow through the battlefield as one, bringing down the enemies quickly.

When the battle is over, Felix is congratulating the team, handshakes, slaps on the back, everyone rewarding each other with reaffirming touches and positive energy. Kat has the biggest grin on her face as she hugs him until he almost can’t breathe.

“Yeah, you can be a lone wolf, but there is nothing quite as awesome as running with the pack.”

Felix puts his arm around her in a half hug. “I never thought I’d say this, but you’re right.”

[quirkykayleetam]

Broken Pieces Superhero AU

Welcome back to our beautiful collaboration!  Damien and the world we’re in belong to the ever-talented @burtlederp while Daniel Wei is adapted from my series, Broken Pieces.  We wrote this together and could never have done this without each other’s wonderful help and support!

Chapter Two: Old Habits Die Hard

Damien took one last drag on his cigarette, fully exhausting it before he flicked it away and ground it into the gravel with his shoe. He paused, looking around with his hands in his pockets, letting the smoke slowly curl from his nostrils, admiring the lushness of the woods surrounding. 

He loved the summer here; the verdant forests, the bustling life, the warm summer sun (or having sun at all), even the damn mosquitoes. He took a deep breath of the fresh summer air before he turned to climb the rickety metal stairs to what he called home--apartment 204.

“Those things will kill you, you know,” a mellow voice said from the shadows opposite the door.  “Of course, I’m guessing you’re waiting on your choice of housing to do it first.” 

When the voice appeared, it belonged to a tall Chinese man with warm down-turned eyes and a slight grin on his face.  He knocked softly on the biohazard sign on the door next to Damien’s.  “I honestly thought this was a joke at first, a clumsy way to hide a secret lair, but no.  You actually live next to a biohazard.  How’s that working out for you, kid?”

When the man first spoke, he scared the daylights out of Damien, who jumped and cursed loudly, gripping the railing of the stairs with one hand and his chest with the other. He glared at the guy, frowning, and finished ascending. 

"I'm not dead yet," he replied gruffly, brushing past the man to get to his own door. He didn't add anything else, hoping this guy would leave him alone as he shoved his key into the door and entered.

“It sure is a rough world when the one and only Alchemist has to work three jobs on top of his League gigs just to afford this place,” the man said evenly.

Damien froze for a moment, door half open, then closed his eyes, sighing exasperatedly, and left the door open behind himself. 

"C'mon in, then, I wanna sit down."

Nodding, the man followed, wiping his shoes off at the door though there was no mat to be seen.

While the apartment was old, and dingy, and didn't smell particularly pleasant, it certainly wasn't barren and appeared very lived-in. The door opened to the kitchen in a way that it made the entrance feel very tight with the kitchen counters and cabinets on either side and a pile of shoes in the corner right of the door. A small wooden dining table filled what space was left of the kitchen linoleum after the counters ended on the far wall, the smooth floor giving way to the weathered carpet of the living room. It seemed the wall that was right of the entrance was a small closet, and Damien's room was on the far right end of the apartment.

An ancient sewing machine sat on the kitchen table, many bolts of fabric accumulated over years lying stacking in the corner behind it. A jacket hung off one of the three chairs around the table, and the living room was a mess of… well, more cloth. Left of the fireplace seemed to be the designated 'superhero suit' storage pile, the other side just laundry. Boxes were stacked all over the wall opposite, almost entirely blocking the front-facing window, a couch buried somewhere beneath them. Covering the fireplace, the wall behind it, and large swaths of carpet surrounding it, was a layer of singed carpet or wood and char, like a fire had once had its way here, uncontrolled.

Damien opened the fridge and pulled out a brown glass bottle, popping off the metal cap as he flopped down into the one chair at the kitchen table that didn't have something on it. He took a swig of his drink and stared, looking very tired, at the man expectantly. 

Unperturbed, Damien’s guest walked slowly around the apartment, taking off his black, military-style jacket before meeting Damien’s gaze.  In just a white t-shirt, he was clearly more muscled than Damien expected.  The corner of a tattoo, something red and gold peeked out of the cover of his left sleeve.  Throwing a selection of manila folders on the table, he offered his right hand to Damien.

“I’m Daniel Wei.  As you can probably guess, I’m ‘with’ the League.”  The man’s use of air quotes was not comforting.

Damien switched the bottle to his right hand and shook Daniel's offered hand briefly, his grip tight, and lifted the cover of the top-most folder with passive curiosity. 

"Mm," he grunted in response, taking another drink. "This isn't going to take long, right? I have rounds to make." 

“Kid,” Daniel said, “I’ll be honest with you: I’m in town for other reasons and there are other places I’d rather be right now too.  But since I’m here and here for good, I’ve been assigned as your brand new mentor--”

Damien nearly choked on his drink, leaning forward abruptly as he nearly spat it out. He swallowed it with a grimace and interrupted, "My new what?!"

“The League has let you operate on your own for an awful long time, but when I was headed here anyway, we saw this as an opportunity to...help you out a bit.  Give you a little guidance.  That kind of thing.”

"I--" Damien glared at  Daniel, trying to find words. "No?! No thank you?" he spluttered. "I'm doing fine, I don't need any help."

Daniel took another hard glance at Damien’s nearly empty fridge and the burned expanse by the fireplace.  “Sure, kid.  You’ve never gone hungry, never gotten yourself so hurt you could use a medic or at least another hand to hold the bandages.  You’ve never sprayed your opponent in deadly corrosive acid because you didn’t know what kind of damage it would do and you’ve definitely never struggled to understand your alchemical powers without even a high school diploma.

“I’m just saying that I’ll be around and, if you let me, we could make things a lot easier on yourself.  Check out those folders.  I’ll leave you my card.”

The small slice of paper Daniel left on the table didn’t have his name on it.  It was blood red with the stylized emblem of a wide-brimmed hat.  The only text read “The Rogue” with a phone number beneath.

Damien opened his mouth once or twice but closed it every time Daniel spoke again, face red with anger. He didn't say anything as Daniel tossed the card onto the table, didn't even glance at it. After a moment, he swallowed, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath--Daniel could almost see the steam blowing out his nose--and set his jaw. He took another generous gulp of his drink and met Daniel's gaze, anger still sparking behind his brown eyes, but his expression was even.

"Thank you. I'll consider it." The words sounded forced.

Daniel smiled and nodded.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Damien.”  Then he turned, put on his coat and walked off into the night.

Damien watched him go, nose curling as soon as Daniel was out the door and he was alone again. He shut and locked the door, then stood there, hand on the knob, the bottle in the other, and clenched his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling the anger boil in him. Who the f--k does he think he is?! Calling me "kid"?! His fingers dug into the cheap wood of the door and Damien quickly drew away when he realized he was leaving deep scratches in the wood, nearly going all the way through the door. He cursed, flicking his hand and looked around his dingy, lonely little apartment that felt much less little ever since he'd started being here alone.

Hesitantly, he walked back to the kitchen table and sat down stiffly, frowning down at the folders. He drummed his fingernails on the bottle, then gave in to curiosity, flipping the top one open.  Inside were the architect’s blueprints for a different apartment, a much bigger apartment, an apartment on the “right” side of town closer to the places that he worked.  The blueprints indicated secret basement access through a trapdoor in the bedroom that led to a laboratory of sorts complete with drains, air vents, a ventilator hood, and steel bookshelves built into the walls.  Beneath the blueprints was a lease already signed and paid for.  When Damien gave the folder a slight shake, keys fell out from the bottom.

Damien stared down at the shiny silver keys that glinted in the wan, dingy light of the one functioning light bulb remaining in the kitchen ceiling. He swallowed, looking back to the plans, flipping through them. After his eyes darted all over the pages, he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face. He peeked out, looking around the little, cramped, dense apartment. The little, cramped, dense place he called a home. It was the last thing he had left of his life before… well, before he wasn't a kid anymore. If his Mom got better--She won't, a tiny voice in his mind reminded him--this… this could be the only place she could remember. Unless it wasn't here anymore. 

Damien frowned, and closed the folder after putting the keys back, and tossed it lazily to the overflowing trash can, where it bounced and scattered all over the kitchen floor.

"If this is another piece of f--kin' charity, I swear…" He muttered, turning to the next folder.  Inside he found a GED with his name on it, signed by members of the League and backdated to the first time he used his alchemical powers in public.  Underneath it was a letter written in excited academic writing from a former biochemistry professor and inventor who retired in Qinniq asking the Alchemist, whoever he was, to come work with him.  The man had so many different theories he wanted to discuss. 

Damien felt anger in his gut rise again. He scowled, memories of public school and old bosses and coworkers and his father and everybody in between flooding his mind, their taunts and jabs and nicknames and slurs and all of it coming back to him--

He tore it up and tossed the bits of it to the trash again, then opened the last folder.  This one was smaller than the rest.  It held only a prepaid bus card for fare from Qinniq to Anchorage, where Damien’s mom was, enough for him to go every weekend for an entire year.

Damien picked it up, his anger fading a bit. He swallowed, glancing between the card and the discarded folders in the trash. He slipped the card into his wallet and got to his feet, finishing off his drink and leaving the bottle on the table as he pulled off his shirt. 

He thought over Daniel's words, his offer, the folders as he changed into his costume. He pulled his gloves on slowly and frowned.

"Asshat," he muttered to himself as he slid open his back window and lept out into the night still lit by a sun that wouldn't disappear over the horizon until 11 o'clock.

Tag List (I’m including those of you who enjoyed the original Broken Pieces story, but if you want to be taken off, please just let me know!):  @stoic-whumpee​​​​​​, @whatwasmyprevioususername​​​​​​, @whumpty-dumpty-fell-off-the-wall​​​​​​, @straight-to-the-pain​​​​​​, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog​​​​​​, @0idril0​​​​​​, @fallingstormphoenix​​​​​​, @whump-fantasies​​​​​​, @imagination1reality0​​​​​​, @whumpback-wail​​​​​, @whump-tr0pes​​​​​, @untilthepainstarts​​​​​, @captivity-whump​​​​, @burtlederp​​​​, @redwingedwhump​​​​, @whumpiary​​​​, @captivity-whump​​​​, @blue-flare10

[habbytician]

im afraid but... kin assign me, coward

My hands shake as I hold this ask.

I lower it back into the box and think, ‘Coward...? How could...’

Then it hit me.

Trevor Garbo icon. That’s the escape. I knew this was the obvious answer, but something didn’t feel right. It felt like a void... a void a ‘coward’ must overcome to say. Trevor Garbo. That’s what my mind says, but deep down I know the true answer. I knew that after all these years of knowing tumblr user spectralgf, the answer would strike me as clear as day.

With one last shaky inhale, I hand you your kin envelope.

A got damn clown.

[basically-i-write-shit]

A lot of packs have a rule: if an alpha wants to join, they need to bring an omega with them. An alpha (any character, but I feel like an aged up first or second year would feel more in place?) befriends Yamaguchi with the intent of tricking him and bringing him to be his entry price for their pack of choice (any team). Please, thank you, and I understand if you decline this prompt. Cheers!

Hey friend? Thank u. 

There’s one thing that Tsukishima Kei knows well– the Karasuno pack leader hates him for…some damn reason. Not only that, but Old Ukai had been very old fashioned, and even though Ukai isn’t the leader anymore he’d never get into the pack if he didn’t have an omega to bring with him– oh, and if he got on Sawamura’s good side. 

He just needs to find an omega to bring with him to the meeting he has with Sawamura and his co-leader Sugawara in a week. 

A whole week. 

Kei needs to get into the Ukai pack; he’s going to university in Miyagi, and his brother was part of a branch of the Ukai pack, before he decided that pack life wasn’t from him. And– And, well, he really wants to impress Akiteru-nii. 

A week. 

Kei is pondering this over at lunch one day when he looks up and makes eye contact with an omega on the volleyball team. Yamaguchi Tadashi. He frowns. Yamaguchi smiles and waves, and suddenly an idea comes to his head. He waves at Yamaguchi to come over, smile on his face. 

If he can’t get an omega to come willingly, he can just trick one into it. 

“Yamaguchi-kin, we’re going to the same uni, right?“ 

“Oh, yeah, sensei gave us our acceptance letters on the same day. So that’s where you decided, huh? I only got into the one, but that’s alright!” Yamaguchi laughs. “It’s close, which is good! My mom is sickly, so I don’t wanna be too far from her.” 

Kei nods, pretending to be interested. “Well I’m glad that that’s the case, then. Anyway, I have a quick question about it.” 

“Go ahead and shoot.” 

“Well, I have an interview to join a pack in a couple of weeks and I’m rather nervous. You see, I’m supposed to bring an omega with me, but the family friend that will be joining me in the interview can’t come into town until the day of the interview. I had some friends set up a mock-interview with some of their friends, but I don’t have an omega to practice with…would it be alright if, maybe, you went to the mock-interview with me?” 

Yamaguchi looks surprised, but pleased. “Oh, if that’s alright! I’m not a pack omega, my mom raised me a loner, y’know? But I’ll do my best to make it seem real for you!” 

Kei smiles. “Thank you very much, Yamaguchi-kun. You see, my friends are also going to make sure it’s realistic– so they’re sending me to someone I don’t know. I’d feel a lot more comfortable if I was with someone familiar.” 

“Oh I totally get that! Do you want me to write down notes for that omega friend? A- After, of course! So they can review some of the questions?” 

“Oh, it’s no issue. I’ll message you about the details.” 

“Awesome! Oh, hold on– I’ll write down my number, you don’t have it, whoops!” Yamaguchi laughs airily, and quickly scribbles his number on the back of an old homework assignment, smiling brightly. “There we go! Message me whenever–” 

The bell rings, and Yamaguchi waves and hops back to his desk, stumbling. 

Oh, yes, hell be great. 

-

Kei spends the next week romancing Yamaguchi while also preparing for the “mock-interview” with him. Yamaguchi is a nice kid, and Kei appreciates how sweet he is. He would blend in perfect with the other omegas in Ukai’s pack– he’d met them over a month or so ago when he scheduled the interview. 

There’s a knock on his front door and he straightens his collar once before answering the door. Yamaguchi is in a semi-formal dress, cheeks flushed a little when he sees the up and down look Kei gives him. 

“Ready to go, Tsukki?” 

Kei almost cringes at the nickname, but he keeps it in check. Man, he hopes that nickname doesn’t stick. “I am. The mock-interview is just at a coffee shop down the road from the university.”

“Alright!” Yamaguchi skips – yes, actually skips – down the front stairs. Kei follows, shaking his head. 

The walk doesn’t take long, and Kei feels his nerves growing as they get closer and closer to the coffee shop. Sawamura and Sugawara are already there, which makes Kei even more nervous. He’d hoped that he could arrive early to calm his nerves. 

“Remember, this is going to be like a real interview so they’re going to act like they don’t know me and be pretty tough with the questions– so just answer like it’s real and it’ll be over soon enough.” 

“Right.” Yamaguchi nods, face set in a determined frown. Kei opens the door for Yamaguchi with a feigned smile, and follows the omega into the coffee shop. Sawamura looks up and when he sees Tsukishima, raises from his seat to greet him. 

“Tsukishima,” He murmurs, shaking his hand. 

Tsukishima doesn’t address Sugawara without the omega addressing him first, like he was trained. “Sawamura.” 

“And this is..?” 

“Yamaguchi Tadashi.” Kei says. Yamaguchi gives a nervous-looking wave, fidgeting with his skirt. “He’s the omega that I’ll be–” 

“That’s such a lovely dress, Yamaguchi-kun, Where’d you get it?” 

“Suga.” 

“Sorry, Daichi, I know this is supposed to be serious.” Sugawara’s cheeks flush and he giggles, falling back into his seat with a grin. “I’ll ask you later, Yamaguchi-kun. Let’s get back to the interview.” 

“Right.” 

They get down to business and Kei makes sure to keep the talk centered on him as much as he can. Of course Yamaguchi still has to speak, but it’s mainly on his major, what he plans on doing party-wise, how responsible he is. By the end of the meeting, Sawamura seems to have warmed up to Kei. Great. 

“Alright, well I think that’s all we need from you two.” Sawamura stands and he and Kei shake hands again. The omegas stand as well, and Kei smiles when he sees them hug. Perfect. If Sugawara likes Yamaguchi, it’s almost a shoe-in. 

“Thank you for meeting with us, Sawamura. Sugawara.” He smiles. 

“We’ll let you two know our decision in a about a week.” 

“Alright.” 

Kei and Yamaguchi head out, and as soon as they’re around the corner he slumps his shoulders. “Man, that was stressful.” 

“Yeah, haha! I’m sure glad I’m not going to the real one, it’ll probably be even more stressful.” 

Kei hides a smirk. “Ah, yes. It definitely will be.” 

“But man, you had it down! You were all serious, it was scary.” Yamaguchi beams at Kei, and he smiles. “And your friends really acted like they didn’t know you all that well!” 

“Right. I’m just glad it’s over.” 

It’s almost over. He just needs to…

“Y’know, Yamaguchi…I really enjoyed spending time with you today. Mind if I take you out to dinner? to thank you for today?” 

Tadashi’s cheeks are flushed. “Y- Yeah, I’d like that.” 

Hook, line, and sinker. 

“Great! I’ll walk you home. Any time you wanna get that dinner, I’ll take you to your favorite place.” 

“That’s super sweet of you, Tsukki! I can’t wait.” 

Once he romances Yamaguchi, it’ll be easy as pie to get him to come to the pack. And, seeing how flustered Yamaguchi gets around him and how starved for affection he is, it won’t be too hard.