#aftermath series

[pipsqk-art]

Cassie's Christmas scrapbook page, inspired by @glitchpunkz 's fic "The Happiest Day"

you've already seen it but...

ping

@pizzaperplexed

[rainyarcades]

Every time I see the aftermath series get love, I feel so so happy. Like, yall actually like this thing I made. And it's not like art-- art, I usually end up not liking so much. I wish I was better at it every day, it takes 2-5 hours of my time a day to create, and I don't put as much love into it every time. Writing I feel more confident with, it takes far more time and care, and I put my all into it.

Not to say I don't love creating art, or that no love goes into art at all-- It's just that so much love is poured into my writing that it means a good chunk more to me than my art.

So seeing people read it and appreciate it... it's the same feeling as people appreciating my art. No biggie. But when people actively get hyped for chapters, discuss the lore and mysteries, their theories, how they think characters will feel about certain things, etc... it makes me feel more loved than before. It makes me TRULY realise that people love this. That I'm doing something good here.

And when you're living in a pretty shitty environment and you're on the cusp of getting yourself together to escape all that mess, when every day is stressful... those words I read from people who adore what I write is the best thing to happen in a day, hands down.

It's thanks to readers that Whatever Happened to Tony Becker exists. It's thanks to readers that a third and final fic, Reprise, will exist. It's thanks to you all that I keep going, that I feel good about it! And I'm so so grateful for that.

Thank you all. <3

[haveanotherfandomblog]

Roses and Thorns

Chapter Three: Halloween

Pairing: George Weasley x Fem!OC

Genre: Adventure, Angst, Comedy, Fluff

Word Count: 5.2K~

Warnings: N/A

Masterlist || <<Previous | Next>>

Mid-September brought a slightly less than subtle change to the weather. The sun spent most of its time hiding behind the clouds as the wind ran rampant through the ground of Hogwarts. Gwen liked to spend her free periods outside, soaking in what little bit of sun was left before winter came barreling in and made it near impossible to go outside.

Though she was beginning to miss the warm weather, her mind was kept occupied by her studies and Quidditch. All Cedric talked about for the first two weeks of school was Quidditch--him and Tamsin. Any time spent in the Hufflepuff common room was spent talking about the game, and the pair explaining to her the fundamentals of what they called “the best game in the whole world”;  though she did get a kick out of telling them it was just the wizard version of basketball.

Quidditch tryouts for the Hufflepuff team were on the second Saturday in September. Cedric paced around the common room all morning, wringing his hands until they were a nice, bright shade of red. Tamsin and Gwen sat on the couch, attempting to study, but ultimately just watching as he paced until tryouts.

They all made their way to the Quidditch pitch. It was a large field with slightly overgrown grass and stands that stood high upon stilts. On either side of the field sat three hoops. Gwen gave Cedric a charm bracelet she had made for good luck before following Tamsin up the stands. There were scattered students in the stands, most of them older and using the excuse to come outside. There were a few other Hufflepuff students she recognized from her year: Heidi, Maxine, James, and Arthur. They were seated in the front row, watching intensely for the tryouts to start.

Cedric made his way to the middle of the pitch, clutching a broom in his hand. One by one the players began rising in the air. The Captain, Jenetta Weaver, a sixth year, was in the middle of all the players, directing them around the field. She was a fierce looking girl with long brown hair pulled into a French braid and a serious expression that always made her seem slightly confused.

She blew a loud whistle, then tossed one of the balls in the air. Immediately, the players dove for the ball, tossing it to one another and making a beeline for the hoops. One of the seventh years, who Tamsin said was a Hufflepuff Quidditch legend like Jenetta, was pacing the hoops. She had short black hair kept back by a bandana that Gwen knew was being kept in place by magic. She watched in amazement as she blocked the ball with practice ease, a smirk on her face.

Cedric was floating in the air, watching as everyone played. Another Hufflepuff student was waiting in the air with him. He didn’t do much in the air, just watched the other players.

“Tamsin,” Gwen called, pulling her out of her conversation with Heidi. “What position is Cedric going for again?”

“Seeker. That’s the one that goes after the golden snitch.” Gwen nodded her head as she watched the rest of the players. One boy, a seventh year named Marshall Allen, was hovering nearby Cedric, his hand wrapped around a bat. He had short blonde hair and was big and burly.

A black ball came whirling towards them. Cedric had barely turned half an inch before Marshall was swinging the ball, knocking it clean towards the other side of the field. Gwen gave a gasp as the other Hufflepuffs buzzed with excitement. She went to lean on the railing, more concerned with Cedric’s wellbeing than with the possibility of falling several feet.

Then he began to dive. The girls jumped from their seat, watching as he dove straight for the bottom of the pitch. They waited with baited breath as he slowly pulled the broom up at the last minute, keeping one of his hands outstretched. He slowly turned his broom before he wrapped his hand around something.

Jenetta blew her whistle, waving to gather everyone’s attention. He rode up to where she was and triumphantly held the golden snitch in his hand. Gwen hollered, clapping and waving as she jumped in the stands. The other students murmured around her, giving her odd stares. She didn’t care as he waved back before passing the snitch to Jenetta.

Tryouts continued for some time. She didn’t realize how late these could run, but she was determined to stay the entire time. Most of the other Hufflepuff students had ventured back inside, leaving Gwen, Tamsin, Maxine, Heidi, and a couple of boys from Cedric’s year in the stands.

It was almost dark when Jenetta announced her decision. She would, of course, remain as one of the chasers along with Jaqueline Beck, a seventh year. Malcolm Preece, a skinny second year with brown hair and fair skin was to join them as their third chaser. Marshall Allen remained a beater, and Anthony Rickett, another second year with a round figure and ashy-blonde hair, would join him as the second. Hufflepuff legend Ida was to remain keeper, and Cedric was the new seeker.

Gwen was beside herself, cheering and jumping and dancing. She grabbed Tamsin’s hand and dragged her down the stands, running to where he was dismounting. She tackled him to the ground, laughing and cheering. His second year friends joined her, dog piling him as they cheered. Tamsin let out a laugh before joining in, patting his shoulder aggressively. He let out a laugh, staring up at the darkening sky.

“You did it!” Gwen shouted for maybe the thousandth time as they entered the castle. “Are you going to tell your parents? I bet they’ll be so proud! This is so exciting! OMG, now I want to play Quidditch! Don’t know if I’ll be any good, but it’s always worth a shot, right? You did it!”

He nodded his head, doing the dance to enter the common room. The other Hufflepuff students gave him a round of applause . He bowed his head before collapsing onto the couch. He was still drenched in sweat but he didn’t care. Midnight barked and jumped onto the couch. He made himself comfortable on Cedric’s lap before promptly falling asleep.

“So, when’s the first game?” Gwen picked Midnight up from his spot and set him on her own lap. He provided little protest as she went to scratch his ears.

“Well, the first game of the season is sometime in early November, but the first Hufflepuff match will be mid-to-late November,” he said. “That’s when I’ll get to play.”

“You’ll be great,” Tamsin assured him. “You were like an all-star out there. Before you know it, you’ll be a Hufflepuff Quidditch legend.” He laughed softly, shaking his head. Only time could tell.

***

The rest of September was highly uneventful for Gwen. She spent most of her time studying for her classes. Cedric was swamped with school-work and Quidditch practice, so she hardly ever saw him, and when she did, he was always exhausted. Tamsin spent most of her free-time hanging out with their other dormmates, giggling over things Gwen didn’t understand. They never excluded her, but there was little fun to be had when every joke had to be explained.

No, she didn’t understand their wizard jokes, but she harbored no ill-will. She simply opted to put her focus where her family excelled, in their studies. It provided her with great comfort that Mark was always as eager to study as she was. The only problem was he was selective about which subjects he wanted to study for. Half of their classes fell to the bottom of the list. His favorites consisted of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, and Charms. He only put in an effort with potions to avoid detention with Professor Snape.

Ava was willing to give each class equal attention, but getting her to sit down and put forth the effort was another story. She would have rather spent her Saturdays wandering and exploring the castle. As fun and exciting that sounded, Gwen knew they needed to do well in school if they wanted to stay. She assured her there would be plenty of time to explore after their work was done, but getting her to focus was like getting a dog in a bath: chasing her around until you lured her with a treat.

The only person who put in the same amount of effort as Gwen was Richard. When he sat down to work, he didn’t stop until everything was done and done perfectly. Every step in his process was meticulously thought out and planned, and while the other three certainly threw more than one wrench into his work, he never left the study group or said anything mean, he simply continued on and reworked what he needed. He also helped Gwen make sure Ava and Mark completed all their work so the pair wouldn’t have to serve detention.

***

Gwen would want her kind personality and academic achievements to be her mark on Hogwarts. Unfortunately for her, her legacy would consist of wit and mischief, and it all began at the beginning of October.

October First marked the start of another school week, and the official countdown to Gwen’s favorite holiday. She and Richard were on their way to class, discussing the homework from the weekend, when two unexpected visitors stepped into their path. Richard latched onto Gwen’s arm, forcing her to stop and pay attention to the people in front of her.

“Hey there, Gwenny ol’ girl,” Fred greeted, an innocent smile on his face. His nose was still slightly swollen, despite the magic of Madam Pomfrey. “Heard ‘bout your friend making the Quidditch team. George an' me got on too, see. Beaters.”

“Congrats.” Gwen moved to step around them, tugging Richard along. Fred stepped to the side, bending his head down slightly.

“What’s the rush?”

“We need to get to class. Have a nice day.” She sidestepped them once again, and he followed suit. She exhaled loudly through her nose, frustration beginning to bubble inside her. “Can I help you?”

“Have a piece then.” George produced a piece of candy from his pocket, wrapped in shiny silver plastic. “Go on. It’s delicious. Toffee flavored.” He stuck his hand out farther, a matching grin on his face.

Something in Gwen’s body pinched the base of her spine and worked its way up to her neck. She glanced over to Richard, who seemed annoyed rather than suspicious. She gently pushed his hand away, reaching back to find Richard’s.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass.” She pushed between the boys, tugging Richard along. Once she felt they weren’t going to follow, she took the chance of looking back. Both boys looked infuriated and disappointed.

“What do you suppose that was about?” Richard asked, pulling out his books. He set them neatly in the corner of his desk, spines lining up with the edge and the top sides lining up as well.

“I don’t know.” Gwen frowned, turning back to look at the door. “I doubt anything good.”

Her instinct was right. By dinner time, she saw multiple students, from all the houses, covered in massive blue polka dots, all claiming the same story: Fred and George Weasley had offered them the toffee flavored candy in the shiny, silver plastic wrap.

Ava told Gwen they had received a week’s worth of detention and had lost ten points each. Gwen shook her head and returned to her table. Those boys sure seemed to have a knack for getting themselves into trouble.

Cedric had told her they were just as bad their first year too. Sooner or later they were going to do something they couldn’t come back from, and when that happened, she just hoped they didn’t take half the school down with them.

***

Gwen, Mark, Ava, and Richard had agreed to meet every Saturday in the library to review the week’s lessons and to catch up on any work. The four fell into a routine, and while it was still far from a friendship, Gwen knew that they’d be inseparable by the end of the year.

The only issue came from Richard. While the rest of the group had other friends to hang out with, Richard seemed to be a loner, and not the stare-off-into-space-brooding-bad-boy type. It was more along the lines of help-no-one-within-a-ten-mile-radius-will-come-near-me type, and that bothered Gwen to no extent. He refused to spend time with any of his housemates, including his dormmates. In fact, he only went to his dorm to sleep. It didn’t help that almost all students outside of Slytherin avoided him too.

He assured her he didn’t mind spending time alone, and she knew that some people needed time alone, like her sister Nat, and others simply liked it, like her sister Penny, but the two of them still interacted with other people.

On days Gwen didn’t need to study, and most of the students were just hanging around, and Cedric was busy with his Quidditch practise, her and Richard would spend time walking around the black lake, bundled up as Jack Frost nipped at their noses. He wasn’t much of a talker, like her brother Nick, but Gwen found comfort in having someone listen to her without interrupting. In a family as big as hers, being heard wasn’t as easy as it should have been.

It was a Saturday after a particularly hard week in Potions, two weeks after the candy incident, that Gwen ran into the Weasley twins. Running being an operative term as the four of them had been on their way to the library when a familiar sharp pain entered Gwen’s back and shot up her spine. She stopped in her tracks, furrowing her brows.

“Gwen? What’s wrong?” Ava asked, tilting her head. Gwen didn’t know what to say. She looked around the corridor, but there wasn’t another soul.

“I don’t know. Something just feels… off.”

“I think you’ve been working too hard,” Mark said, turning back around. “Why don’t you get some rest, we’ll catch up tomorrow.

BOOM!

The entire corridor lit up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve. Fireworks shot out bright colors into the castle ceiling and produced dancing creatures of all kinds. The loud noise had startled Ava, Mark and Richard, as the three of them quickly ducked for cover.

Gwen, on the other hand, gave out a laugh, looking up and giving out a long whistle as the creatures disappeared.

“Oi! Come on!” Fred and George stumbled from their hiding spot, looking at her in utter disbelief. She gave them a grin, shrugging her shoulders. Her group rejoined her in the middle of the corridor, looking less than thrilled with the Weasley’s.

Of course, Mr. Filch was also less than thrilled with the mess and fire hazard they had caused. She’d never heard such shouting before. They slumped their shoulders as they were escorted to Professor McGonagall’s office, and given another week’s worth of detention, and lost another ten points each.

“I don’t know what their problem is,” Ava said, sitting with her back against the window. “They keep losing our house points and soon wea not gonna have any.” She put three piles onto the table and pulled out her ink and quill.

“Forget the points,” Mark said, dumping his bag’s contents onto the table. “They’re putting everyone in danger with stupid pranks like that. I mean, the  amount of fire hazards from that prank alone could have had devastating consequences.”

“How come you didn’t react? Did you know about it?” Richard sat with his back against the door, moving to put Mark’s items into a controlled space before setting his own books down.

“I didn’t know. I just got a weird feeling. Besides, those weren’t that bad. I mean, you haven’t seen real fireworks till you’ve been to D.C. on the Fourth of July.”

“Wow, you Amaricans are a lot mora tough than I thought.”

As the days passed, Gwen found her excitement for Halloween dwindling. The other students didn’t seem to care about the holiday, seeing as for them, it was always Halloween. They didn’t care for carving pumpkins, there was no way to watch scary movies, and nowhere to go trick-or-treating. The excitement of Halloween was almost non-existent, and that brought her cheerful demeanor down several notches.

Tamsin was the first to notice her shift in behavior. Instead of her normally cheerful jigs, Gwen’s violin seemed to only produce slow and melancholy tunes. Even in the common room, they could hear her sad songs that even made the Fat Friar sad.

She decided that Gwen needed a nice pick me up, and there was no better place for spooky lore than the library. On their way there, another sharp pain shot through her spine, causing her to stop in her tracks. She held out her arm, stopping Tamsin as well. She opened her mouth to protest, but was quickly shushed.

She was not amused by Gwen’s sudden odd behavior and pushed her arms away, placing her hands on her hips. She gave her a pointed look, looking around the semi-empty hallway.

She brushed off her annoyance, watching as Mr. Filch marched down the corridor, Mrs. Norris hot on his heels. He grumbled as he passed the girls, ignoring most of the students as he went to round the corner.

Loud screaming startled the corridor as he fell backwards, legs stuck together like a mermaid. The children’s mouths fell open as Mr. Filch flailed about the floor, yelling and pointing like a mad man. Gwen covered her mouth as Tamsin struggled not to laugh.

It was no surprise when the culprits turned out to be Fred and George. They emerged from around the corner, faces almost as red as their hair. They turned their heads and saw Gwen and Tamsin staring at them, disappointed but not surprised. Fred looked like he could strangle someone as George drew his mouth into a thin line.

“What is going on here?” Professor McGonagall’s voice carried through the corridor loud and clear, effectively silencing everyone except Mr. Filch, who was still flopping around the floor like a fish. She cast an unamused stare down at him before pulling out her wand and giving it a slight wave.

His legs were released and he scrambled to stand up, turning a nasty stare onto the twins. Professor McGonagall held up her hand, silencing him at once. She turned her sharp gaze onto them, releasing a slow and steady breath. 

Of course, with his impeccable timing, Peeves came swooping in from another corridor, laughing and pointing at the pair. Though usually excited for the encouragement, both looked like they wanted to throttle the poltergeist.

“Oh ho ho! Looky what we have here! Silly silly boys!” He let out another rambunctious laugh circling above them. Professor McGonagall simply shooed him away, with threats of Dumbledore and the Bloody Baron. He stuck out his tongue before flying away to cause problems somewhere else.

“Everyone, get to your classes. Now.” The other students scrambled to avoid getting detention. Tamsin pulled Gwen along, eager to leave Professor McGonagall’s war path. “As for you two, after your fiascos this month, I see it only fit that you both receive a month’s worth of detentions. As such, you both lose twenty points-- each.” Gwen felt bad that they kept getting into so much trouble, but she couldn’t understand why they did it. No one was laughing, not even them. Hopefully now they learned their lesson.

When Halloween was right around the corner, Gwen found herself in a sour mood almost everyday. Her sunny disposition was nowhere to be seen, and the entire Hufflepuff dorm was filled with her low and somber music. Even Richard was beginning to miss her chatter. Her mood was a mystery to everyone, herself included.

Halloween had always been a happy time in her life. Her family always went trick-or-treating in Grandpa Dave’s nice neighborhood, followed by a trip to a haunted house, and ending the night with a big party at their house. Yet the excitement for her family’s favorite holiday was nonexistent.

“Oh, chea up Gwen,” Ava encouraged. They had just finished their last class of the day and were going to drop their books off in their respective dorms. “My dad told me tha’s always a big feast for Halloween. Sure to be a sight to see.” Gwen shrugged, fiddling with the edges of her notebooks. “Don’ worry, you’ll feel tons betta when you get some suppa in you.”

“Okay.” Gwen waved goodbye as she continued down to the common room.

Most of the students were rushing out of the common room, eager to feast upon the delicious food they’d been smelling throughout the day. She pushed past the sea of hungry students and went to her dorm room, where her dormmates had already deposited their stuff. Heather’s books were piled neatly into her trunk, the lid left open in her haste. Heidi and Maxine had both placed their books on top of their trunks before they’d undoubtedly ran to join Tamsin, whose books laid in a skewed pile on her bed.

Gwen carefully placed her charm book on top of her other books before carefully closing the lid. She shuffled to the common room, which was almost empty save for the other Hufflepuff pets that weren’t owls.

Midnight was amongst them, lazily perched above the fireplace, his tail flicking back and forth. His bright blue eyes watched her carefully as she shuffled through the barrel hole and made her way to join the other students.

Ava’s dad was true to his word, the Great Hall was a spectacle to behold. Candles floated above them, casting a spook-tacular glow around them. The ghosts were floating around as well, moaning and causing quite the ruckus with Peeves. Candy and other Halloween themed food lined all five tables.

Cedric was seated near the end of the Hufflepuff table, chatting with the other Quidditch players. Their first Quidditch game was only a matter of weeks away. He waved her over, giving Tamsin a shove as she chatted with Heidi and Maxine. She moved over without breaking away from her conversation, shoveling her food into her mouth.

Gwen sat between the two, grabbing a fair and healthy serving of food. Cedric returned to his conversation of strategy and Tamsin only offered her a smile. Their plates were piled with delicious food and sweets of every kind, both magical and muggle. Gwen grabbed her fork, but couldn’t bring herself to take anything. She pushed her food around her plate, resting her chin in her hand.

She glanced around the Great Hall. Ava was sitting amongst a group of Gryffindor girls, giggling and chatting. Mark was eating and listening to whatever the other boys in their year were going on about. Richard was seated at the end of the table, a book in his hand as he read and ate silently.

It seemed no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t bring herself to enjoy the festivities like the other students. Even the ghost choir, who were singing a beautifully haunting melody, couldn’t put her in a good mood.

“You doin’ alright Gwen?” Cedric asked, pulling himself away from his teammates. Gwen let out a sigh, stuffing her mouth with mashed potatoes. “That bad, huh?” She shrugged, keeping her eyes on her lap. He gave her back a gentle rub, moving to eat his own food. She set her fork down, excusing herself from the table and turning in for an early night.

She knew that right about now, her siblings were seated in a circle in their living room, negotiating candy trades, with Kate and Lily easily swindling their other siblings out of their fair share. While that was going on, her parents would be seated on the couch, her dad with his cup of decaf coffee and her mom with her cup of herbal tea, watching in amusement as they waited for guests to arrive.

She knew Aunt Penny would have the coolest costume, and she’d have brought the pumpkin pie cupcakes with the white frosting sprinkled with cinnamon and nutmeg. Uncle Derek would have new ghost stories to tell and games to play.

The only thing Gwen couldn’t figure out was if they missed her as much as she missed them. She  wished she could call them and let them know she wanted to be there. She wanted to hear the new story and have one of Aunt Penny’s cupcakes. She wished she could have gone trick-or-treating and carved pumpkins and gone to a haunted house.

Instead, she was left wandering towards her dorm. Maybe if she hadn’t been so deep in thought and self-pity, she would have felt that sharp pinch slither up her spine. Maybe she would have heard the echoes of footsteps and muffled laughter. But alas, as she wound the corner to the stairs towards her common room…

SPLASH!

Water poured down on her, leaving her completely drenched. Her mouth fell open as she let out a gasp, looking around. Fred and George fell from their hiding spot, holding their sides as they howled with laughter. There were tears in their eyes as they rolled around the floor.

Now, Gwen loved a good prank. Pouring water on someone wasn’t too bad, and on any other night, she might have joined in on their laughter with a promise to return the favor. But this wasn’t any other night. And if they’d taken two seconds to look at her, they’d have seen what they did had a worse effect on her than they intended.

Tears welled in her eyes as her lip began quivering. One of the twins, she wasn’t sure which, hit the other, looking at her. Both stopped laughing as her tears began falling down her face. They glanced at each other before they both ran for it. One of them paused, turning their head back briefly before they disappeared from view.

She took a seat at the bottom of the stairs, bringing her knees to her chest. She rested her head on her knees, shivering as her tears mixed with the water dripping from her hair. This had to be, by far, the worst Halloween of her entire life.

“Gwen?”

She lifted her head to see Richard standing in front of her. His hands were gripping his satchel and his brows were furrowed. He took a seat next to her, eyes darting all over her.

“What’re you doing here?” She let out a sniffle, smoothing out her school robes. She used the back of her hand to wipe away her tears, not that it made much of a difference.

“I saw the Weasley twins leave shortly after you did. I wanted to make sure they didn’t do anything. I guess I was too late.” He reached into his bag, scrunching his nose as he pulled out his wand. “Reverte.”

The water vanished from her and left her nice and dry, though she was still cold and her eyes were puffy and bloodshot. She gave a breathy chuckle, using her sleeve to wipe her nose. She thanked him and fiddled with her robe, keeping her gaze down on her robe.

“So, do you want to talk about it?” He tucked his wand back into his bag, scrunching his nose as he fixed his glasses. She shook her head, tucking her knees back under her chin and earning a slight chuckle from him. She turned her head. It was the first time she’d heard him laugh.

“What?”

“First time you don’t want to talk, and it’s the first time you need to. Come on.” He gave her a gentle nudge.

“It has nothing to do with the twins,” she confessed, squeezing her legs. “It’s just-- it’s stupid. Getting worked up over something so silly.” She paused, but he wasn’t giving up that easily. He nudged her again, giving her a pointed look. “It’s just-- me and my family always celebrate Halloween with a big celebration. It’s almost as big as Christmas for my family, and, well, this is my first Halloween I won’t be celebrating with them. I dunno, I guess I just-- I don’t know.”

“It’s okay.” He gave her an awkward pat on the back. “There’s worse things to miss.” She turned her head, giving him a deep frown. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being upset. It was something important to you.” He drew his mouth into a thin line, furrowing his brows. “Why don’t you just write to your family? I’m sure it’ll make you feel better.”

She mauled over his words. He was right, if not for the reason he thought. Both her parents had degrees in psychology and both would be able to help her. She stood up suddenly, startling him into standing as well.

“Thanks Richard. You’re a good friend.” She gave him a strong hug, which, after the initial shock wore off, he returned hesitantly, giving her back a couple awkward pats. She skipped off to her common room, her mood better than it had been for most of the month. The first thing she did was pull out a roll of parchment and a quill.

Dear Reid Family and Extended Loved Ones,

I hope you guys had a spook-tacular Halloween! Mine wasn’t too interesting. Actually, mine wasn’t fun at all. They threw a big feast and had a ghost choir, but there wasn’t any trick-or-treating or haunted houses or Aunt Penny’s cupcakes. I’m sure Uncle Derek had a lot of cool stories to tell. Surprisingly, the ghosts here don’t tell many scary stories. They’re just really, really, really sad. I guess that’s what happens when you’re dead.

On a happier note, I think I’ve entered my first prank war. These two boys, brothers, have been trying to prank me all month. I’ve avoided it for the most part, but they got me today. It wasn’t too bad, just some water, but now I’ve got to think of a good comeback. (I’m looking at you for help Daddy!)

I was a little upset today because I missed you guys, but Richard (that’s my friend in Slytherin) really helped me today. He was actually the one who suggested I write to you guys. I can’t wait to see you all in a couple months for Christmas! I love and miss you all!

Love,

Gwen

She carefully folded the letter and slipped into an envelope before scrawling her mother’s name on it. It was a quick and uneventful trip to the owlery and back to the common room. By her return, most of the students had returned and were heading to bed for tomorrow’s classes.

“Gwen.” Cedric waved his hand, jogging over to her. “You okay? You left pretty early.”

“I’m okay.” She gave him an affirmative nod and a chipper smile. He smiled too, chuckling. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Well, you certainly look happier. Come on. You should get to bed. We still have classes tomorrow.” He nudged her towards her dorm room before he headed off to his own.

She climbed the stairs until she reached her room. Everyone was already asleep, happy in their candy-induced comas. She changed in her pajamas before also climbing into her bed. Midnight jumped onto her bed as well, snuggling right by her face as drifted off.

[luxaofhesperides]

the beginning - danny

0.

The Lazarus Pit brings Danny back.

The child who went into them, however, is gone forever.

Danyal al Ghul is the soul who should reside in this body. Danyal has a life still to live and Danny died ages ago, old and surrounded by loved ones, ready to spend the rest of his forever in the Infinite Realms.

Something's gone terrible wrong, he thinks rather wryly, squinting through the cold green water that surrounds him. An ache echoes through his body and he brings a hand—small, a child's hand that shouldn't belong to him— to his stomach, where he can feel a large wound slowly pull itself together.

Did I get stabbed?

He means to continue the thought, but a sharp pain hits his head, making him curl up. He gasps and air bursts from his lungs, water rushing to fill in the empty space. Danny chokes, panicking, as memories slide into place, the lives of Danyal al Ghul and Danny Fenton fighting for dominance in his head. His lungs burn, throat working futilely to push water out, but there's nothing to be done.

Danny is a child again, and just like last time, he dies young.

1. So.

Assassins.

Danny honestly can't tell if this is a step up or a step down from mad scientist parents. On the one hand: he knows they loved him, as clumsy as it was, even though they loved their work more. On the other hand: assassin cult sounds like something out of a fairy tale, and while cool, is definitely not safe for kids.

And Danny, somehow, is a child again.

This really wasn't what he expected when he woke up on the sandy bottom of the pit. He's in ghost form, which is an unpleasant shock, but at least its familiar.

He is also, if his memory as Danyal serves him correctly, nine years old.

Kinda sucks that he died so young this time round. Didn't even make it to the double digits before he was taken out of the running.

He can't remember what it was like being so small in his last life. He can't imagine how anyone would look at a child and run them through with a sword. It's a cruel world he's woken up in. It's made worse by the fact that he's alone.

At least being down here without needing to breathe is giving him valuable time to think.

Danny has lived a full life already. He didn't really need or want another one, content to be a full ghost in the Infinite Realms. But going back isn't really an option, now that he's in a new body. The kid he could have been deserves to live fully, and the least Danny can do is live that life for them.

It'll be hard, but Danny's sure he can manage a decent life for himself.

Being presumed dead will make his escape from the assassins easier, though he'll miss getting the chance to meet his new mother; assassin as she is, Danyal knows her not by her blades but by her soft lullabies and jasmine-scented hair. The loss of her child must be hurting her deeply, but it's necessary. If Danny wants any semblance of a normal life, he has to leave her behind.

Besides, he's seen enough death. He doesn't want to ever be the cause of it.

So, he needs a plan for this new life.

Step one: get out of dodge.

The rest he'll figure out on the way.

2.

Turns out assassins weren't the most shocking thing in this new life.

No, that honor goes to superheroes.

Genuine, honest to God superheroes! With powers and everything!

To think that Danny once called himself a superhero. Ha! As if! He's nothing compared to the likes of Superman or the Flash or even Green Lantern. They're in another league. Literally. They're part of the Justice League, which has a whole slew of other heroes, and Danny is possibly their biggest fan.

Not like that's weird; most people in this world are huge fans of superheroes. Makes sense, since they're the ones who rely on their protection the most.

It does suck to know that his background belongs to that of a villain. Assassins aren't known for saving people, after all.

Part of him contemplates becoming a hero again, taking up the role of Phantom and joining the ranks of Superman. But he's had many years to come to terms with the loss of his teenage years and the bitterness that came with it. That experience, that life once lived, helps him decide each time that being a civilian is the gift this life owes him.

At thirteen, Danny lives in a foster home with six other kids. He's the oldest and has his hands full taking care of everyone else while their foster parents work three jobs between them to keep them all afloat.

When his younger siblings play superheroes, he gladly takes the role of the villain, swooping in with a blanket to kidnap away an innocent bystander that has to be rescued. He falls over dramatically at the end of each fight and praises his siblings' strength and teamwork, making them puff up with pride.

It's all fun and games so long as it only stays fun and games.

Superpowers are cool and all, but his came at the cost of his life, his health, his future. He knows, better than anyone, the price of being a hero. He knows that even Superman carries heavy losses on his shoulders, struggles under burdens no one can see.

He's lucky that the small town he ended up in—Luray, Virginia—has no heroes or villains. Too small a place to be on anyone's radar, apparently.

His classmates often complain about how they wish they could live in a big city where there's more to do, more to see, superheroes flying through the streets to protect them.

Danny is happy where he is. It's quiet, and small, and nothing like what he's used to, but it's safe.

That's all he really wants.

3.

Here's something that stays the same no matter what world he's in: Danny is a magnet for trouble.

If the trouble stopped at bullies, everything would have been fine. Danny could handle Dash, and he could handle Justin just as easily.

But the universe loves to escalate with Danny, specifically, which is why Danny had to reveal his powers when some villain-wannabe school shooter attacked his high school.

And to think he felt bad for Jackson when he didn't make it onto the track team.

Luray does not have a meta population. They're too small to have much of a population at all, and much of it is white which made him, half-Iranian, stand out even before he threw out a barrier of ice to protect his classmates a second before the gunfire began.

"Danny?!" his seatmate, Clarrissa, cries out in alarm.

"Everyone get out the window and run for it!" he orders, "I hold him back as much as I can!"

"You can't stay here!"

"Don't worry," Danny says, offering her a tight smile. "He couldn't kill me even if he tried. Now go!"

His classmates hadn't wasted any more time, sending him shocked looks as they escaped the classroom. A glimpse of his reflection in the window revealed glowing green eyes and blue mist wafting out of his mouth.

Looks like his time in Luray is up. He hopes his foster siblings won't be too mad at him for running away.

The gunfire stops, and Danny takes his chance to leap through his ice, intangible, and tackle Jackson, easily knocking the gun away from him.

"Monster!" Jackson spits at him, and Danny laughs.

"Bold of you to say that. I'm not to one trying to kill people."

He doesn't want to hear anything else that comes out of Jackson's mouth, so he knocks the guy out with a solid hit to a pressure point on his neck. Hopefully that'll keep him down long enough for the cops to get him.

Danny stands and means to leave, but something hits the back of his head hard and he's out before he realizes what's happened.

When he wakes up, he's strapped down to a table in what is undeniably a lab, and sighs.

At least he made it to sixteen before he went into another lab. Maybe in his next life he might even get all the way up to twenty before he's pulled back down here.

4. Though he has all his powers and a ghost form, that doesn't mean he is a ghost in this life.

No, he's fully a meta, which means meta-suppressing cuffs work on him.

It's not exactly a discovery he was hoping to have while locked up in a lab, but it's what he's got, so he has to roll with it. The cuffs are heavy on his wrists and around his throat, keeping him from escaping as a group of people in masks and lab coats bustle around, ignoring him.

His head is still foggy, though likely more from the drugs than the hit he took to his head.

He doesn't bothering talking to any of them; they don't see him as human, and Danny's dealt with enough of that in his past life.

Mad scientists love to talk though, so he still hears the gist of their plans: recreating the meta gene for normal people, making a profit from selling powers, getting rich and famous from their accomplishments. They had been using Jackson to get corpses for human testing, but they got Danny instead — someone they can harvest bio material for, a much better find than a couple dead kids.

If he had the energy to rage, Danny would have killed everyone in the room already. They planned to kill his classmates just for test subjects.

He doesn't want to be an assassin, but he'd gladly lean into those old lessons to make sure they never hurt anyone again.

But the cuffs and drugs do a good job of keeping him docile, barely able to think, as they transport him around to different locations and cut him open.

He's not sure how long it's been when they ease up on the drugs a bit. It still takes time for his body to work through everything, and he comes too with a throat that's dry and a stomach that hasn't had anything in it for quite some time.

The first thing Danny does when they start asking him questions is throw up on them.

If they wanted cooperation, they should have treated him better. This is fully on them.

It makes for a convincing argument for food and water and a bathroom break, at least, so he gets what he demands and takes care of his human body under the cold gazes of three scientists.

"You guys suck," he says conversationally. "Keeping test subjects alive is like basic knowledge. No wonder y'all suck at your jobs."

"Your comments aren't needed," one of the scientists says primly. "Get up. We need to study how using your powers affects your body."

They hook a bunch of different things onto him, then lock him in a glass cage and use the cuff around his throat to send jolts of electricity through him when he doesn't do anything. He throws a chunk of ice at them, watching as it breaks apart into small pieces when it hits the glass. The scientists scribble in their notepads, and when they look at him again, he flips them off.

He gets shocked again, but it's worth it.

The process repeats for another few hours, then he's pulled out of the cage, gets an IV stuck in his arm, and drops off into drugged oblivion before he has time to start throwing hands.

5.

It must have been months. Danny's not sure; it's hard to keep track of time when locked in isolation.

He knows he's fed at least once a day. He's been getting a tray of bland food at random times, but he's counted over 50 trays sliding through the little slot on the bottom of his cell door.

Turns out insulting scientists and their procedures is a bad idea, especially when he has the language to really bruise their egos.

So.

Isolation sucks.

But at least they don't drug him anymore!

The cuffs do their job of keeping him in place, and if he didn't have memories of another life to keep him company, he definitely would have lost his mind long ago.

There's other people in here, other metas. He's heard them screaming and begging for mercy. He's heard them go chillingly quiet. He wonders why there are so many superheroes in this world when not a single one has come to save them.

Surely at least one would notice metas disappearing and would investigate?

But no.

No one ever comes to save them.

So Danny needs to figure out a way past the cuffs, and then he can be Phantom again long enough to free the other metas and make every scientist involve pay for their crimes.

He just needs to wait.

He just needs—

6.

When Danny wakes up, the alarms are ringing. It makes his head pound, throbbing with each piercing sound.

He stumbles up, using the wall to keep his balance, and freezes when he sees that the door to his cell is open.

…Huh.

The hallway is bathed in red light when he steps out. No one's around. He wanders around the facility, searching for answers and only finds more questions.

There are other cells, also empty. Certain rooms have blood splattered across the walls and the floor, but no bodies. Labs are destroyed, broken glass on the floor. But every room is empty.

He wanders until he finds what must be a security room. There's a strange device dangling off a keychain on a rack, and Danny eyes it curiously. He runs his fingers around the cuff on his throat, feels the little depression where the collar comes together, and takes the rounded device. If it doesn't work, then it doesn't work.

But if it does work…

The cuff pops open easily, as if it hasn't been his greatest foe these past few months.

All at once, his strength returns to him. He has forgotten what it was like to breathe easily, to feel his powers come to his call so easily, to be reassured that he can take care of himself.

It's almost like coming back to life.

He transforms, settling back into his ghost form with relief, and flies through the facility in search of any other metas that may need help. He finds no one, but he does catch a glimpse of the outside.

The sky is so blue it almost hurts to look at. Part of the facility has been blown apart; rubble surrounds the place and the surrounding forest has been flattened. It looks as though a fight has moved through the area.

Maybe a superhero did come to save them? Rude of them to leave only Danny, though.

He continues his search, poking his head into different rooms and hallways. He finds a staircase going down and follows it into the basement. More labs greet him, and the glow of computers and strange vials of liquid leave him unsettled.

There's a green glow coming around the corner than reminds him of the Lazarus Pit he flew out of, once upon a time many years ago, and that's what draws him forward.

Tucked away in that familiar glow is a small body, floating in a tube of liquid. There's an oxygen mask attached to her face, but that doesn't stop Danny from recognizing her.

"Ellie?"

7.

Just like in one life, Danny is cloned. The difference is that this time, there's no reason for it, no insane godfather trying to recreate a version of him that will choose him.

No, this time it's from a group of scientists who should have known better, who decided to mess around with his genes, and brought his once little sister now daughter into such a cruel, dangerous world.

Danny barely remembers breaking the glass to get her out of there. He doesn't know where he found the coat to bundle her up in, flying out of the facility as fast as he could. He feels sick, knowing it's his fault that she's here now, forced into a painful, terrifying existence because he wasn't strong enough to save himself.

He's a runaway meta victim of mad science. He can't take care of her.

"I'm sorry, Ellie," he whispers to her, pressing a kiss against her head. "I'm so sorry."

She small in his arms. She barely weighs anything.

Danny blinks back tears and tries to find some place he can stop and rest, somewhere safe he can gather his thoughts and figure out his next steps.

This isn't like when he first woke up in this world, with both sets of memories.

This is Ellie.

She deserves more than just a wish and a half-baked plan for a better life.

She deserves a family that wants her, that can care for her, that can protect her. She deserves to grow up normally and not worry about destabalizing or being a replacement for him or being hunted down.

She deserves one life to be a kid and grow up safe and be whoever she wants to be.

Danny will never be able to give her that.

But maybe he can give her to someone who can.

8.

Danyal grew up with an assassin mother and a cruel grandfather who expected far too much from a child. He was taught to kill and be more weapon than child. He was taught the world was something for him to take, to protect, to water with blood.

Danyal was meant to be the next Demon Head, and the next Bat.

Danny knows he can't go to his mother. If they're both lucky, he will never have to see her again. Knowing his luck, he's already planning explanations for why he never went back to her.

Danny's father, on the other hand…

It didn't take much to put the pieces together. The notorious Bat is Batman, Gotham's vigilante and one of the founders of the Justice League. While a child would have been left confused by the many comments his mother made about his father, it was simple enough for Danny to line them up with what he learned about the heroes of this world and realize, oh, that's my dad.

It takes a few weeks of research, using public libraries with Ellie tucked securely in a wrap to his chest, but he's able to learn more about Batman.

The most important thing being that he has kids.

Of course, none of this is officially acknowledged, but everyone knows that the Robins are his kids. Current Robin, especially, likes to remind people that he's 'the son of Batman'.

Okay. Cool.

Danny has siblings.

Awesome.

He's… not looking forward to those conversations.

At least it means more people to look after Ellie. Assuming they take her in, which Danny's really hoping for.

But it's the best he can do, so Danny sets course for Gotham and hopes that just this once, everything will work out.

9.

Meeting the Bats of Gotham is a lot harder than he expected.

A week in the city and he's barely caught more than a glimpse of them. He can't dedicate a lot of time to tracking them down either, needing to break into grocery stores to get food for him and Ellie.

She's so quiet as a baby, and it terrifies him. She's only cried twice the entire time he's had her, and Danny spends every day begging her to hold on.

Time during the day is spent catching naps and researching common vigilante spotting areas in Gotham. He's got a map of Gotham taken from a library and has been steadily marking it up, putting stars in the best places to find a Bat. There are places all over the city, and Danny has no idea how to know which ones are the best.

The only thing he can do is wait at a different rooftop each night, clinging to Ellie, wondering if this is the last night he has with her.

On the ninth night, someone finally arrives.

"Step away from the edge," a voice demands.

Danny turns to see Robin approaching, hands held out as if to catch him. He's bigger than Danny was expecting. Which makes sense; most of the stories Danny got online are from when Robin was a kid, and it's been a few years since then. He must be a teenager now. Older, but still young.

"Robin," he manages to say, his throat tightening. It feels almost like there's a noose around it. It feels like that meta-suppressing cuff has clicked back into place, leaving him helpless.

"Step away from the edge," Robin repeats. "There is no need for this to be your last resort."

"But it is," Danny whispers.

Robin darts forward and wraps a hand around Danny's wrist, yanking him towards the center of the roof. "Why on Earth would you come up here? Surely you must have known that someone would stop you."

"Batman," he gets out. "I need to speak to Batman."

"What for?"

"I'm… I was told, once, that I'm his son."

10. Robin stares at him for a long moment.

Then he takes off his mask.

Danny knows those eyes: he sees them every time he looks in a mirror.

"Danyal," Robin breathes. "You died before I was born."

"I did. Are you…?"

"Mother told me about you."

So he has a little brother. If only he hadn't left first chance he got, he could have known his little brother, gotten away from that place before it hurt him too. Danny has made many mistakes since he arrived in this world. Missing a little brother is perhaps the worst of them.

"Mother…" Danny repeats. "She put me in the Lazarus Pit. I remember that. She didn't want me to die."

"I was born to replace you."

Just like Ellie.

So many mistakes repeating. He's never felt like more of a failure.

"Batman. Our father. He treats you well? You are safe with him?"

Robins brows furrow, but he nods, which is enough for Danny. "Yes. Of course. Isn't that why you're here now?"

"I'm not asking for me." Danny carefully, gently, unwraps Ellie. "I'm asking for her. Please, take care of her. She deserves more than I can give her. Ellie… she'd be your niece."

Robin's eyes are wide. He's frozen until Danny pushes Ellie against his chest, forcing him to lift his arms to hold her.

"Wait, what about—?"

When Robin looks up, Danny's already gone.

It's for the best.

(masterpost for all parts)

[wotchernewt]

seriously though nothing can stop me from interpreting Real Life as canon just for how it progresses the canary curse situation. i'm obsessed with it. the curse gets broken in secret life and then in the very next "series", as much of a joke as it is, you get a situation like THAT. jimmy enters a mineshaft and everyone but him dies. not just his team, though obviously it's more significant because they were all red, but ren/martyn/skizz all get a mineshaft-death apiece. that canary's not doing his job anymore. he escaped his cage and made a break for the surface and everyone else is paying the price for it, and i for one could not be more proud of that little bird.

[thesummerstorms]

Okay, but I've been thinking about the parallels between The Last Olympian and The House of Hades.

Annabeth was the one who convinced Luke to kill himself. Obviously, it's a lot more complicated than that and ahe'd given him opportunities to change before. But in the end, it was only because of her and their promise that Luke was able to throw off Kronos's control during the battle in the throne room.

She's the one who convinced Percy to give Luke the knife. Luke killed himself with her blade and saved the world.

Then we get to House of Hades and Tartarus. And at the doors of death, Damasen tells Annabeth that she was the one who changed his mind and convinced him to fight his father. She's the one who tells Percy that they have to leave Bob and Damasen, even knowing they'll die. She cries and sobs and hugs Bob, but she makes the choice.

I'm just saying, after talking someone into to their heroic death twice, even though she had to do it, even though she mourns, even though she's not her fault-

She deserves to be a little fucked up by that.

[spicyvampire]

Great's Dying Brain vs Reality: Part of the undressing for Great & Tyme's first time

4MINUTES (2024) EP. 4 // EP. 6

[veveisveryuncool]

was it worth it was it worth it was it worth it...?

kirbtober day 02: revenge (late!!!)

[realbeefman]

house md episodes will have the characters casually mention some deeply devastating and traumatic event in their past that would’ve fundamentally altered them as a person and then it will never be mentioned again for the rest of the series

[immediatebreakfast]

I have noticed something when it comes to vampires bites in this book, or the concept of watching the vampire feeding itself. The book has said how the vampires feed, how the Weird Sisters feed, and how Dracula hunts his prey; however, so far, the actual act of biting and feeding is never described nor shown.

Jonathan sees the Count give the Weird Sisters a child, he hears it cry again and again, then everything goes silent as the horrifying implications hang over his head. Yet, there are no words for teeth sinking into flesh, of blood bubbling as it escapes the arteries, or pained expressions, the act that is so characteristic of vampires is... not seen in what is considered the Vampire Novel.

However, it fits, it fits a lot with how the gothic is constructed. We don't need to read how the Weird Sisters kill a baby in front of Jonathan's eyes, it doesn't need to be described because the implication, and the poiting towards what is happening away is far more terrifying. It creates a sense of helplessness that permeates everything around the biting. You can't save those children, they are already "dead" the second the Count grabbed them.

Weirdly enough, I thought that since Jonathan isn't being actively bitten in front of our eyes, then It could mean that the Count is not biting him to bide time with his new favorite "lady" before consuming him, but no.

He was either dead or asleep, I could not say which—for the eyes were open and stony, but without the glassiness of death—and the cheeks had the warmth of life through all their pallor; the lips were as red as ever.

The lapses of memory, the tiredness, the blurriness between what is real and what is not, Jonathan is suffering from these while he is slowly drained in moments that we don't even know about, but it happens. Dracula now has the warmth of life coursing through his body as Jonathan becomes weaker, his lips are red while Jonathan is more ghastly as the days go by.

I thought he might have the keys on him, but when I went to search I saw the dead eyes, and in them, dead though they were, such a look of hate, though unconscious of me or my presence, that I fled from the place, and leaving the Count's room by the window, crawled again up the castle wall.

The rage of the Count to see Jonathan try to escape once again despite the pure torture he has been subjected. How dare he keep fighting when his body gets weaker every day?

We may not see the bites happen since the aftermath of those bites is what is important. What the victim feels both physically, and mentally is the focus in the story; just because the bite is finished doesn't mean that the horror stops.

[kyeomssant]

aftermath ○ lee dokyeom

Being announced as a driver for Red Bull Racing was a dream come true and to do so alongside The Dokyeom━ she still thinks, to this very moment that this is a figment of her imagination and that any moment now, she’ll wake up, finding herself back in her driver’s room, getting ready to race for Prema and not Red Bull.

Everything she has worked for led up to this very moment, every hour she has spent practising, spending time on improving herself, burning bridges and losing people she once held close to her, all of the things she’s sacrificed to get into Formula One━ except, meeting Dokyeom ‘He goes by Seokmin off track’ Lee, was nothing like one would expect.

Seokmin Lee was not the sunshine she saw on the television, no big grin in sight, no kind eyes and warm words in vicinity as he stared at her, lips pulled into a thin line and eyes hard.

She should’ve known, after all, they do say, never meet your heroes

series masterlist

chapters:

i. welcome to the show ii. already over iii. first time iv. fare well v. who we are vii. anything but viii. fast times viii. read your mind ix. vicious x. lonesome xi. catharsis xii. there it goes xiii. into you xiv. sweetner xv. bad idea xvi. imperfect love

taglist.

@piastrylvr @hyperdramas

let me know if you want a tag

[whumpypepsigal]

Whumptober 2023 | No. 19

Alternative prompt: Aftermath of Failure

1923 s01e02: “If I'd known I would have never split us up. I would have kept us together.”

@whumptober @whumptober-archive

[forwhump]

a/n; sorry !!!!!!!!!!!!! (either for the delay or the fact that I’m posting again depending on how you feel about me)(I’m from mountains, canada and I drove to prairies, canada & at one point completely out of nowhere my friend was like “you could hide a military base out here so easy” I was like 👀)(silas could literally be in flatlands, manitoba we don’t even know)

anyway LOL this is for the anon that asked for more outside pov !! I was actually looking for smth hal ‘cause I have a lot more lighthearted stuff & sort of caretaking healing things from hal’s pov BUT !!! I felt partway through june needed more screen time & I went back and wrote a lot of early stuff from her pov & this is some of that & it is TOO GOOD not to post !! more wren backstory 😏 but nothing good has happened to wren in his life so y’know

tw/cw: sexual violence, rape, noncon, transphobia, misgendering, graphic depictions of violence, serious bodily harm, forced imprisonment, captivity, mentions of kidnapping, sexual slavery, medical torture

outside pov, military whump, mentions of super soldiers

June has been in the unit for about two years — she thinks — when Point comes to escort her from the common room, and it isn’t unusual. Not at first.

She safely assumes it’s for combat or field training, which are two of the only three things she ever gets escorted from the unit for. The third is medical. She’s never seen anything else, she’s never been taken to any other part of the district, and the hair on the back of her neck starts to rise as Point leads her deeper and deeper into the labyrinth, farther and farther from familiarity.

“Sir?” She tries, and he doesn’t even look at her.

He leads her to a door at the end of a long, empty hallway. He stands with his back to it, finally looking at June. Something in his jaw twitches. “Against my better judgment,” he says, and has to stop, to calm himself, closing his eyes, breathing in slowly through his nose. When he opens his eyes again, he looks at her and says, “if I had another choice, you would not be here. You are about to become privy to information only my most trusted men have been entitled to. It is contraband. If, for any reason, my superiors find out, and she is taken from me, I will not be happy. And if I’m not happy, your employment with me will be terminated by means of your life. Do I make myself clear?”

June had never seen any farther into the district than the arenas, even further underground. This is a single, armoured door, at the end of a long, empty hallway, at the junction of more long, empty hallways. “She?” June asks.

“Do I make myself clear?” Point repeats, and June’s body nods with no help from her brain.

“Sir,” she says.

Point clicks his tongue, irritated, before he unlocks and unarms the door.

It opens to the worst thing June has ever seen in her life.

“Fuck!” She says, and she doesn’t mean to, taking a quick step back. She can see Point watching her, blank, from the corner of her eye, but she can’t look at him. She doesn’t want to look anymore but she can’t pull her eyes off the body laid flat on its back on the concrete.

The costume dress is ripped and stained, tulle and gingham soaked through with blood. The body is so emaciated that June can clearly make out every bone in its leg beneath its waxy, bruised skin.

She fixates on the long, white hair. Robin has the same hair.

“Oh my fucking god,” she says.

Robin speaks of him, still, but he hasn’t been the same since this place got to him. None of them are. He isn’t frantic in the same way, but he still talks about him. When Robin talks, it’s most of what he talks about.

When he’d been taken, escorted here, his brother had been with him. The artist. They’d taken him, too. The soldiers all staunchly denied him ever even having a brother with him, so June had always assumed he’d been killed at the scene. Robin had insisted as long as he’d been there — they’d taken his brother, too. He was here somewhere.

He was right.

June feels cold all over.

“I think her pelvis is broken,” Point explains, and she has never experienced the rush of emotion she feels now, wet and hot, like a tide that breaks in her chest.

“You think her —“ she starts, and it almost makes her gag. She has to take a long breath in through her nose. She still can’t look away. “You think his pelvis is broken?”

“No,” Point admits. “Her pelvis is definitely broken.”

“Oh my fucking god,” June says again, and her voice sounds really far away. Robin’s brother has been real this whole time and Point’s been keeping him as a pet. “Oh my fucking god. You raped him to death.”

“She’s still alive,” Point says, and he says it like she’s dumb. He steps closer to nudge him in the side with the toe of his boot and Robin’s brother makes a quiet, wet sound June has only ever heard from dying men.

She reacts without thinking, shoving Point away from him. He moves, but he sneers as he looks down at her. “Stand down, January.”

“Get the fuck away from him!”

One of his eyebrows lifts, menacing. She doesn’t like Point, and she’s never liked Point, but one of the things she’s growing to loathe is his almost cartoonish villany. His mood swings are goofy and violent and it sets her teeth on edge. “I own her,” he says, low and dangerous. He leans in close. June is a big girl — Point is a massive fucking man. She doesn’t want to be intimidated by him but he speaks like a threat and his breath is hot against her face. “I can do whatever I want to her. That’s not why I brought you here.”

June would be shivering if she let herself, which is interesting because she’s actually as hot as if she’s running a fever. The sweat is cold as it trickles down her spine. “Why did you bring me here?”

Point looks down at the blood dried on the concrete, at Robin’s bleeding, broken brother, and says, “I don’t know what to do.” He looks at June slowly and his face is completely void of any emotion that June knows or recognizes.

“What?” She says.

He looks down again, back up, and she still can’t read his face at all. “I don’t want her to die,” he finally admits.

“Oh my fucking god,” June says, and she doesn’t mean to. She doesn’t know what else to say. She knew Point was a mean bastard but she never would’ve thought he would’ve been capable of this. “You should’ve thought about that before you raped him to death.”

“She doesn’t have to die,” he says.

“What do you want me to do?” June cries.

He looks at her like she’s a little stupid, which is just mind blowing, and motions to Robin’s brother with one arm. The other is held at his back, at ease.

Wren.

The name comes to her out of nowhere.

Robin’s brother is Wren.

“You’re also female,” Point explains, and kind of tilts his head, “I think.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” June says. “So?”

He motions at Wren again.

June looks at him, too, and it’s so much more horrible now that he has a name. He’d had family before, loved ones, somebody who was worried about him, and that was bad enough, but now this small, bleeding thing, broken down the middle, has a name.

Wren.

What was their last name? Some other kind of bird, wasn’t it? Was it Heron?

“I don’t know why you think I can help him,” June says.

Point’s eyebrows lift. “I figured you would’ve dealt with your share of female hysteria.”

“Female hysteria?” June repeats. “He was raped to death!”

“She isn’t fuckin’ dead!” Point snaps.

“He’s dying right now!” June cries. “You know that or you wouldn’t have come for help. What the fuck do you expect me to do? Really?”

Rage simmers in Point’s face for only a second. It’s gone just as quickly, replaced by something shier, almost more bashful. “Word is,” he says tightly, “you were a big…female advocate during your time. I thought you might’ve —“ and he cuts himself, exhaling sharply. “I thought you might’ve known somebody who’d been…hurt like her before. I thought you might know what to do.”

“They died,” June says.

“No,” Point says.

“Yes,” June corrects. “I worked around a lot of men like you. They were always civilians, always young, and they always died. Always.”

“You just let them die?” Point says, like he’s horrified by that.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” June says. “He needs a doctor. Have Medic —“

“No.” When he’s not speaking with too much emotion, Point doesn’t speak with a lot. Still, this is the flattest June’s ever heard his voice.

“Oh my god,” she says. “I know what to do and that’s what I know. If those girls in the field had been allowed access to a doctor they might not have died. They would’ve had a fucking chance, at least. What do you think is —“

“No,” he says.

“You’re really just gonna let him die here?” She protests.

“She’s contraband,” Point says, flat. “I thought I made myself clear.”

“So?”

Point looks her up and down once, lip curling disdainfully. “On paper,” he says, “she was terminated on site.”

Something shivers in June’s chest and makes her breath rattle. “Oh my god.”

“She is an unsanctioned pet,” Point says, “and —“

“Oh my fucking god,” she says. She takes a step away from him and she isn’t sure when she had gotten so deep into this room. She doesn’t like it, but she’s standing between Point and Wren and she can’t bring herself to stand anywhere else.

He kind of rolls his eyes at her. “And —“

“So he was always going to die here!” June cries, and the spike of hysteria in her voice surprises even her but this is fucking unbelievable. This is unreal. This place was a hellscape when these men were just working guard detail at a fucked up mad science program making super soldiers.

She should’ve known better. She was in the military, and she knew what those men were like. Point was right, kind of; she didn’t really work as an advocate, she just got a nickname. She used to fight, physically fight stationed doctors to try and get them to help the girls the soldiers always left behind. But they were always locals, civilians; the military’s doctors weren’t authorized to help them.

She should’ve known they’d never just be working guard detail.

She just never would’ve thought they’d be keeping a fucking sex slave in the basement.

What the fuck?

“What the fuck!”

Point exhales through his nose. “Yes,” he agrees.

June puts a hand to her chest and her heartbeat is like gunfire. Robin had been so hysterical about his brother when he’d gotten here, but he’d been going through withdrawals. June had never doubted that he was real, like Hal had, but she really thought they’d killed him, and that Robin had probably just blocked it out. That he’d completely forgotten it after the lobotomy, or whatever the hell they did to him.

He’d been real this whole time and Point had been keeping him as a pet.

“Oh my fucking god.”

“I don’t want her to die,” Point admits again, and June can feel it under her hand, the way that makes her chest constrict.

“At this point it’s probably the least you can do,” she spits, and her head is spinning.

“No,” Point says, and she hates that she agrees with him, but he’s right.

She can’t let him die down here. Not like this. “He needs a doctor,” she says.

“No.”

“That’s all you can do!” she protests. “There’s no other way to help him! You broke his fucking pelvis. He probably needed a doctor six months ago but if he doesn’t get one now he’s going to die. If you don’t want him to, tell Medic.”

“They’ll take her from me,” Point says.

June throws her arms up. “Then he’ll just be dead!”

Point looks down at her for a long time and she looks right back. She thinks he’s probably trying to intimidate some hidden medical prowess out of her, but she’s serious, and at some point he sees it in her face. His lip curls back from his teeth and he leaves. Without a word, he leaves, and he locks the armoured door behind him.

“Fuck,” June says out loud, and she doesn’t mean to. Her voice breaks.

But they’re alone. At least they’re alone.

Slowly, she turns to Wren, and slowly, she sits beside him. “Hi, Wren,” she whispers. He doesn’t respond and she doesn’t really expect him to. Slowly, she reaches out to him, brushing bits of crusted hair out of his face. He looks like he’s probably really beautiful, and he looks young. He looks so young that it makes June nauseous and she has to do everything in her power to keep her voice soft and calm and sweet. She wants to scream for him. She wants to cry.

She starts to push his hair out of his face and his eyes don’t open but he flinches with his whole body. “It’s okay,” June whispers. “It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. My name’s June. I’m a friend of your brother.”

It stirs something in him. His head turns slowly against the concrete and his hair is so white the parts dried with blood look like they’re rusting. Blinking open his eyes, he looks up at her, and he has eyes so much darker than June was expecting. He has really, really dark, really wide eyes, bloodshot and bruised underneath, and he looks up at June from beneath wet eyelashes and it makes him look even younger and she cries with him, then. She can’t help herself.

“Robin?” He asks, but just barely. His voice is really small, but when June strains to hear it, she can hear Robin’s accent, softer and sweeter. “He’s alive?”

“Yeah,” June agrees, smiling wetly, “and he’s clean. He’s all big now, looks like a real cowboy. They fixed his teeth, too. He’s got a great smile.”

He chokes out a wet sound that June only realizes is a sob when a tear clears a track in the grime on his face.

“I know,” she agrees softly. “Really seems like you got the shitty end of the deal here.”

He makes another choked sound and June likes to imagine that in another life, he got to laugh towards the end. “I’m gonna die,” he says, and June can hear it in how thin, how wet his voice is, that yeah, he probably is, “aren’t I?”

“I think so,” June whispers. “I hope not.”

He chokes out another sound, another sob. “I think I want to,” he whispers, and his brittle voice breaks. “I don’t wanna do this anymore.”

“I know,” she agrees. “I think I would, too.” He moves his head, tips his face up towards the ceiling, and strips of flesh have been peeled from the side of his throat. She takes his hand so carefully, and she doesn’t look at the bruising around his wrist or every one of his broken fingernails. “I don’t think I’d want to be alone,” she explains.

He makes a choked sort of sound. “I’m never alone.”

“I’m sorry,” she says softly. “Do you want to be alone now?” His fingers tighten around June’s, almost frantic, and she says, “it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.” She squeezes his fingers as much as she’s comfortable, which is just barely. “Couldn’t get very far if I wanted to.”

She’s crying, but that feels rude. What does she have to cry about? She tries to wipe her eyes with the back of her other hand and says, “I’m really sorry this happened to you.”

He doesn’t say anything but his fingers are still shaking so June knows he’s still alive. He’s so cold she thinks it would be hard to tell, otherwise. She doesn’t think she’d let go of his hand either way.

They sit there for such a long time that June thinks that Point’s left them both to die. She holds Wren’s hand and cries for him when he isn’t conscious to hear it. When the door is finally opened again, she jumps so hard it feels like it throws something out in her back.

Jumping to her feet, she keeps Wren safely behind her as Point filters back in, face blank. Close at his back is Medic and June sobs out loud.

She would go as far as to say she likes Medic. A trauma surgeon, Medic is a good doctor and he’s kind to them. He’s a prisoner, too. He doesn’t want to be there, either. Him and the entire rest of his team are fitted with collars, flickering at all times with dangerous red light. Insubordination will lead to electrocution which will lead to death.

Medic is a prisoner and he’s one of if not the only person down here with any sort of humanity left. He reacts to Wren like any normal person would — with horror.

He recoils so hard it makes him take a step back, and he bumps into June. Neither of them acknowledge it. “What the fuck?”

Point opens his arms, dismissive. “Fix her.”

“Who is this?”

“Who cares?” Point says. “Can you fix her?”

“What the fuck?” Medic repeats, ragged. “What did you do to her? Who is this?”

“Robin’s brother,” June says, and Medic looks at her with eyes blown wide with horror.

They blow even wider with realization. He looks at Point slowly. “What the fuck?”

“You’re wasting time,” Point says. “She’s dying.”

“His pelvis is broken,” June tells him quietly, and Medic sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth.

“Fuck me,” he says. He rubs his face slowly, but if there’s one thing June likes best about Medic, it’s that she respects him. When he lowers his hands, he looks at Point. He says, “get the fuck out. Take June back to the unit, and stay the fuck away. If you try to see him at any point while he’s in my care, I will fucking kill you. You understand?”

Point’s lip curls back from his teeth. “You’re in no position to tell me what to do, doc.”

“Then maybe we’ll have Weaver come down here and take a look at him instead,” Medic says.

Point snarls, actually snarls, like some kind of fucked up beast, and the way the sound reverberates through the room is deeply unsettling. But he takes June by the arm, and he turns.

June turns to look over her shoulder, but Medic closes the door between them. As she turns back around, she sees it’s because Point tried to look back, too.

She doesn’t say anything to Robin. Maybe that’s the wrong choice, she isn’t sure. What would the right choice be? Would she wanna know, if it was her? What if she’d been lobotomized?

She doesn’t say anything and she doesn’t see Medic for months. When she does she’s sitting in a bed in the medical bay, trying to peer around for any sign of him. The medical bay, unfortunately, was designed for privacy; the size of a large airplane hanger, there are enough beds for a small army but spaced out far enough that June can’t peer end to end.

When the door is pushed open and Medic lifts the corner of his mouth at her, she has a bullet in her arm but she forgets that it hurts and blurts, “is he okay?”

Medic smiles a little more properly and the relief that crests in June’s chest almost makes her start crying out of nowhere. “No,” he says, “but he’s getting there. He’s alive.”

“Oh my fucking god,” she says, and he laughs. “Can I see him?”

“Let’s get this bullet out of you,” he says, “and we’ll see.”

A few months after that, somebody new is introduced to their unit. Like every other time, they don’t know until the guards show up with them. The new guy, this time, has long white hair, the same colour as Robin’s.

June cries pretty uncontrollably.

Robin doesn’t cry — can’t, maybe? — but June cries enough for him, too.

[mechazushi]

Spoilers for Chapter 117

GUYS, GUYS, GUYS, Guys, guys !!!!

Hear Me Out....

KafHoshi.... is fated reincarnated soulmates / doomed yaoi.

Kafka's ancestor and Hoshina's were good friends up until a certain point. The stress of the upcoming battle was straining their relationship and it all came to a head when Hoshina's ancestor said "You're not fit for this clan."...

It would be the last thing he said to Kafka's ancestor before he died.

While Kafka's ancestor got injected with the souls of a tortured thousand, Hoshina's ended up regretting his last words so much that he prayed to be reincarnated at a point where he could meet Kafka's and be the friend he should have been until their last moments.

Now I'm just imagining Kafka not being able to look Hoshina in the eye after the fight. Not in a "you doubted me once, you'll doubt me again." Sort of way, but in a "I can't be with you because it will happen again." Sort of way.

GOD, the angst is delicious.

[circusinarun]

Last thing for today is CJ, insomnia and his emotional support cockroach

Awh! C'mon! Look at em!

They has a bowtie!!!

[clairedaring]

I didn't mean it like that. I asked because I just wanted to know. After all, it's your family's land and it has nothing to do with me.

I Feel You Linger In The Air (2023) | 1.10