#and i would highly advise against anyone else doing it either

[rohirric-hunter]

I think a lot of the communities I've seen floating around Tumblr are too....... big. Too centralized. I mean, "this is a community for all fanfiction writers," all of them? Really? You don't want to narrow that down to, like, hurt/comfort fanfiction writers or Buffy the Vampire Slayer fanfiction writers? You don't forsee any problems arising from shoving every fanfiction writer ever into one communal space? No conflicts? No alienation? I mean okay.

[xxdoubledaisyxx]

Faith is different than magic because,

Magic is technically faith used for your bodily pleasures. That's why it is advised as evil and your are told not to do it, or the Devil will write your name in his book to keep track of who uses his tools. When Nick had(s) that book in his life, he punished all the bad people in all of time who used magic the way they weren't supposed to.

That will be either because of what they promised the Devil, or what they promised God. It was part of a occupational agreement I volunteered to do as a mortal during my mortal life that I saw available from the eternal quest board of the heavenly sky of Christs, and solved in one simple and final answer that took only a few moments to complete.

The end result is that I had most of my life to use freely with all the trappings of the best worldly powers anyone could ever hope to want for themselves. Not that I wanted them all for myself, but this is what happened because of the government chasing me around looking for sins in my past that do not exist and they have no reason to believe ever did. You should ask them yourself, because I do not know what worries them so much about me to be as terrified as they are, defensively postured behind an entire military superpower because of how threatened they are.

I am their own "citizen" and a veteran and they are postured behind their military defense armaments against me without offering the public an explanation. I do not know myself. I'm just passing time by writing because I can't really do anything with the USA the way it is toward me, and neither can anyone else because of what that requires of them to do in reality to limit my options in real life, as the legitimate military lord-commander I have become in my personal defense against their "national security defense precautions" or whatever they wrote on the page and didn't understand, thinking a national military was a game to play, and politicians are the players like actors in a movie happening in real life.

It's highly inconvenient, their ignorance, as it disrupts all of social activity and everyone's personal lives on account the government functions being necessary for ALL OF THAT TO WORK!!!

I'd rather be married by now, as I am sure I could have accomplished that too, without their meddling in my private life without my permission as if I were an animal to breed for a royal pedigree.

Nothing can happen until they extricate themselves from my life, an investigation is done to determine the extent of their damages to my individual legal person, and the damage is reconciled accordingly to the appropriate amount the judge of the court finds acceptable.

There will be no reconciliation unless that happens. The sin cannot be forgiven, and we are not going to try. There will be no further human sacrifices, after me, because I don't need anyone to die to make up for what I lost, and account of Jesus doing so in advance for this occasion.

I solemnly accept his gift, with total humility and gratitude, and will do the good of the Christ as best as I see fit to the best I am able to do.

Unfortunately... I have a disability. I would have been able to manage fine with all the civil accommodations there are now, except that the government has gone out of their way to oppress me with most unwelcome and unjustified assaults upon my person as if I didn't know what a "right" is for a citizen like myself to have my rights protected in writing.

The "harmless obstacles" they have put in my life for whatever godless reasons of evil they claim to have, are not as "harmless" as they want everyone to believe. They want everyone to believe they never did what they did without telling you what it is, because I cannot tell you what that is either due to their methods of maintaining anonymity. But I can tell you where they are, and we are getting closer and closer to the exact point between Trump and the Prime Minister of Israel.

Whatever they are doing, it is something horrible vile and intolerably inhumane of the worst kind of evil, that is certain. Human trafficking, slavery, government mind-control with indoctrination using manipulated education systems-- murder for fun. They shouldn't be doing anything at all, that also is certain. If people like that were doing good, wouldn't they want to show you?

How about you show your papa, Satan, what a good picture you drew of him while using my likeness.

... who is going to pull a trigger first? We aren't going anywhere until bang bang bang, let the bodies hit the floor.

I like to write.

That's all this is, and I'm not just doing this for self satisfication, because these events at the moment are truly the most interesting current events in all of time and they are not being reported by any news agencies. Everything else in the world is going to seem a little dull after this, fortunately for your spiritual health. Isn't that great?

However, nothing is happening in general nationally as a productive economy on total standstill, until you make them break their traitorous faces, cry on tv, give me lots of money, and turn all the talking heads around like the exorcist.

(Ms. Blaire should be a model of inspiration all news anchors strive with all of their hearts and souls to emulate, as she demonstrates most capably, your roles toward the public in the media here in this clip from a classic American film. I couldn't be more disappointed to the see the "media" in America, behaving like... "father square" in the clip, who also played his role admirably as the dry old white guy with a collar trying to make the lovely Maiden do what he wants and failing. Perfectly, cute, she is, and he's too old and boring.-- it's her mana quality. It is off the charts on screen right there. How do you not see this?)

I'll tell you over and over until it happens, using the opportunity as one to hone my skill with the whetstone of the divine forge, chopping wood and carrying water like a good acolyte, so they don't start poking their nose in my private life where I have plans they don't need to know about.

[elencelebrindal]

Infinity Nikki rant

Whelp, I regret spending money on Infinity Nikki and I'm going to boycott it. Infold is clowning their spenders and players, and I'm not standing for this.

Updates bring next to no content, story content doesn't last more than a couple hours at best (if you take your time with it), there's no compelling storyline anymore, and it all feels just a marketing strategy for the outfits. Which would be fine, if there was something else other than that.

The game is nothing but opening it, doing dailies, taking photos, and logging off. There's FOMO for every outfit (and they even denied it????). 5 star outfit poses are only available with their recolors, you need to have the full outfit for abilities to work, mira crown needs fully glowed up outfits that can be limited, I could go on. You're literally more likely buying an outfit than pulling for it.

It's a gacha game, yes. I'm not asking to have all the 5 star outfits served on a silver platter for everyone. However, this open world game feels extremely empty and devoid of content, and f2p players should be able to get at least some outfits without skipping heaps of banners due to the unfair pity system. Hell, even players who spend, whales included, should be able to get outfits without investing hundreds into pixels.

The game had great potential at the beginning and it felt nice, it was cozy, it was fun. Now it's just an empty world where stories are only used to sell outfits, FOMO is everywhere, and players are not being respected judging by the response given by the devs to the many complaints and feedback. And it happened in the span of a couple months.

Do better, infold. For now, I highly advise anyone who plays this game to avoid spending money on it. Either their pockets hurt, or we continue being treated so unfairly by a company that seemingly doesn't care enough about the world of Nikki.

I probably missed some points, but I'm tired and busy and I don't really have time to get into more details. This is the main issue with the company, and I'm standing against their behavior.

I'll post pictures here, because that's all you can do in game for now, but I don't know for how long I'll do that. If they keep going on this path, even if my blog is small I'm not really going to post anymore until they get better.

End of the rant.

[sendouakira]

A comprehensive essay on the effects of Sakuragi Hanamichi on Rukawa Kaede from Slam Dunk

 Over the years, there have been quite a few rivalries portrayed in great detail between “dual protagonists” from famous shounen manga. Yet the relationship between Sakuragi Hanamichi and Rukawa Kaede from the most influential sports manga Slam Dunk was and still is regarded as “the gold standard” for this particular type of dynamic. However, as great as the bond that these two share, it’s puzzling that there seems to be a greater focus on the impact that Rukawa has on Sakuragi. I have read some analyses that even claim “Rukawa, at best, thinks of Sakuragi as a really hard-to-get-along-with teammate,” or that, “Sakuragi only helps Rukawa build better teamwork to some extent”. 

In this essay, my goal is to explore the natural progress of the relationship between these dual protagonists as well as the apparent development and growth of Rukawa Kaede as a character after he meets Sakuragi Hanamichi. For the purpose of this essay, I will focus only on Rukawa Kaede’s perspective as the effects that Rukawa has on Sakuragi deserve another essay entirely. 

The first thing that we all need to agree is that, we, as readers, rarely have a chance to know what exactly Rukawa is thinking. Even when he does open his mouth, he has nothing but nasty things to say which may make him look detached and distant (minus very few instances when he actually encourages Sakuragi). We always get a glimpse of other characters’ internal turmoil, their struggles and emotions such as Mitsui’s regret, Akagi’s memories, or Sendou’s plan. But Rukawa is always this mysterious character who never truly reveals his thoughts and his intentions to the reader. This is precisely why he is often misunderstood as a cold person, or that the relationship between him and Sakuragi is overrated.  

If we look at the early dynamic between the two, we can see that  Rukawa indeed doesn’t care about Sakuragi. “An annoying teammate” is likely how he would describe Sakuragi. 

Slam Dunk chapter 20, when Sakuragi is learning how to do a layup shot, Rukawa shows annoyance as he is forced to teach Sakuragi the techniques. 

If his senpai is not there, he would not lift a finger to help Sakuragi. 

Similarly, he’s again put on the spot and has no choice but to teach Sakuragi how to defend in the practice match with Ryonan (Slam Dunk, chapter 43).

Or in Kainan match, Rukawa instructs Sakuragi what to do as they are the first to arrive for defense. 

Initially, Rukawa really has no interest in helping any of his teammates improve, let alone Sakuragi, even though he instinctively understands that the improvement of his teammates benefits him and Shohoku as a whole. 

In the early stage of Slam Dunk, Rukawa doesn’t have any regards for Sakuragi whatsoever, even if he does give Sakuragi guidance from time to time. The only reason he does it is because he’s forced to do so, and he only guides Sakuragi enough to help Shohoku win since he himself wants to win as well. 

So when does the shift in his attitude towards Sakuragi take place? In actuality, it’s a gradual, slow process. It starts with his encouragement for Sakuragi. Note that he doesn’t encourage anyone on his team. He may recognize other teammates’ abilities and talents but still, the only person who has this “privilege” is Sakuragi alone. 

Let’s take a look at the first scene that Rukawa gives Sakuragi encouragment in chapter 95, when Sakuragi is afraid of committing fouls in the match with Shoyo

Even if you argue that, in this scene, he only does it because not being able to catch rebounds seriously hurts Shohoku’s chance to win against Shoyo, such words from Rukawa are profound and unprecedented since this is the first time Rukawa actually acknowledges out loud Sakuragi’s ability to catch rebounds. But what’s even more interesting is another scene from the match with Shoyo. 

 While previously we saw Rukawa helping and encouraging Sakuragi just enough to help Shohoku win, the same interpretation doesn’t work here. Sakuragi is leaving the basketball court. What good does it do to encourage him now? In my opinion, this is the first time that Rukawa temporarily sets his ego aside to acknowledge Sakuragi’s talents, not just because he wants to win; but because Sakuragi deserves it. 

Then comes our most favourite scene between these two, when Rukawa “consoles” Sakuragi after Kainan loss. 

Again, we have no idea what Rukawa truly thinks. We only know that other Shohoku players never blame Sakuragi for passing the ball to Takasago of Kainan. 

Let’s shift our focus to Inoue sensei’s intention of not showing Rukawa’s thoughts. It’s very clear that Rukawa is...planning something. The panel which shows his eyes only is subtext, and the underlying message is that Sakuragi is no longer the annoying teammate that he couldn’t care less about. Here, it is HIGHLIGHTED by Inoue sensei (Rukawa is being SINGLED OUT) in that one panel that he’s thinking about Sakuragi not showing up for practice.

We can only guess what’s going on in his mind at the time. Is Rukawa thinking about finding Sakuragi and confronting him about not coming to practice? I think not. A safer bet is that Rukawa is thinking about how to talk to Sakuragi about it, and the reason which leads me to believe so is this scene. 

This is Haruko’s failed attempt to cheer Sakuragi up after the loss against Kainan. This scene is the key reason why she fails. She unintentionally confirms that it’s indeed his fault by saying, “even geniuses make mistakes sometimes.” Thus, Sakuragi is still stuck in the same thinking pattern that he is to blame. 

It takes Rukawa, who understands a newbie’s feelings and who previously thought carefully about what to say to Sakuragi to cheer him up. Rukawa knows Sakuragi still thinks it’s his responsibility that Shohoku loses against Kainan, therefore, the only way to get him out of that thinking pattern is for Rukawa to assume that responsibility. 

I firmly believe that this scene shows that Rukawa really cares about Sakuragi as a teammate. Everything may look coincidental, that Rukawa happens to see Sakuragi in the locker room, that he arrogantly takes the blame for the Kainan loss which so happens to cheer Sakuragi up. But it’s only on the surface. Rukawa has now from this point on, grown to care about Sakuragi. 

The direct impact that Sakuragi has on Rukawa doesn’t stop here. Sakuragi always has his own way to rile Rukawa up like no one else can. We know that Rukawa loves challenges, and characters like Sendou Akira or Sawakita Eiji are the ones who can provoke Rukwa on the basketball court but it’s because Sendou or Sawakita are truly skilled players, so it is understandable that Rukawa would be provoked to go all out in order to defeat them. 

However, why does Rukawa go all out in a one-on-one game with Sakuragi back in chapter 191? Is it because Sakuragi is so arrogant that Rukawa wants to teach him a lesson? Is it because he takes basketball so seriously that he must always do his best?  Or maybe it’s his personality since Mitsui and Miyagi somehow know that he would not go easy on Sakuragi?

Again, we never find out why Rukawa does the things he does. The narrative on his thoughts is always left out, silent, mysterious. What’s true is that unlike Sendou or Sawakita, Sakuragi doesn’t have skills on par with Rukawa in order to actually demand him to give it his all. It must be something else in Sakuragi that has this effect on Rukawa. 

There is another curious detail which I would like to point out. When Rukawa consults coach Anzai about his decision to go to the US, he is advised to stay in Japan to become the number 1 high school basketball player first before moving to the US. This matter is of Rukawa’s concern only, yet somehow Sakuragi is involved. 

I have always asked myself this question. What does Sakuragi have anything to do with this? Actually, a better question is: why does Inoue sensei intentionally let Rukawa become aware that coach Anzai values Sakuragi as much as Rukawa himself? Not to mention that Sakuragi is never brought up in his conversation with coach Anzai, but Sendou is. 

Rukawa has shown us repeatedly that he’s actually impressed with Sakuragi’s raw potential, but this time is different. This is the first time Rukawa understands that in coach Anzai’s mind, the 2 of them are equal in terms of talents and it would be wrong to assume that Sakuragi is not regarded as highly as Rukawa himself. 

Back to the question above: why Rukawa goes all out with Sakuragi in that one-on-one game. Is it because of what coach Anzai’s wife reveals to him, Rukawa now truly sees Sakuragi in a new light? I find it interesting that right after Rukawa’s flashback in the two pictures above, we have the match between Rukawa and Sakuragi in which Rukawa shows no mercy. 

We will get back to this point later. Let’s move on to another important scene. 

In the death match with Sannoh, when Sakuragi is hurt, Rukawa is perhaps the first person to notice something is wrong (it’s not clear if coach Anzai notices if first or if it’s Rukawa). Either way, he actually knows something is not right even before Mito Yohei. 

By the time Shohoku meets Sannoh, Sakuragi has been playing basketball for only 4 months. In the span of 4 months, Rukawa has learned enough about Sakuragi to notice Sakuragi’s small slip of concentration, as if he’s been watching Sakuragi play all along. 

Next, we have one of the clearest examples of how Rukawa truly feels about Sakuragi. 

In this entire page, we see Sakuragi’s emotions, thought process, his flashbacks, and his gaze. But there is one panel that does not belong to his internal monologue: the closeup of Rukawa’s expression. I don’t think I have much to say about this panel. Rukawa’s worry is written all over his face. 

Of course, this is not the first time Rukawa shows his worried expression like this. When Akagi leaves the court in the match with Kainan (chapter 105), he also shows the same reaction. 

Or when Mitsui collapses in the match with Ryonan (chapter 180).

While it is shown that Rukawa is just as worried when other Shohoku regulars have to leave the court, it is important to note that he only shows this expression when an important player is hurt or injured. Rukawa may taunt Sakuragi for being a newbie, for looking clumsy; but just like Akagi or Mitsui, Sakuragi has earned this worried look from Rukawa as an important player in the Shohoku lineup. 

And even more than that, it’s also hinted that Rukawa seems to be the person who understands Sakuragi the most as a fellow athlete. 

The scene in chapter 270 which shows Hanamichi gundan (his loyal friends, including Mito who is his best friend) understand that Sakuragi has made up his mind, that he will not be persuaded to do otherwise. 

And there is Rukawa who understands Sakuragi without the need for words. 

Rukawa seems to know an aweful lot about Sakuragi, even more so than Mito Yohei when it comes to basketball. While everyone wants to convince Sakuragi not to come in, Rukawa is the only person that understands Sakuragi’s stubbornness without having to talk to him. 

Finally, the infamous scene in which Rukawa encourages Sakuragi for the last time. 

At first glance, it seems that Rukawa is only encouraging Sakuragi here. But on the 9th reading of Slam Dunk(yes, I have actually read the manga 9 times), I suddenly realized it may be deeper than that. This scene takes place right after Rukawa gives Sakuragi a compliment on his desperate attempt to win against Rukawa in the one-on-one game (chapter 191), which is also around the time when Rukawa becomes aware that coach Anzai values both him and Sakuragi equally. 

I believe, this is not just encouragement. Here, Rukawa also indirectly acknowledges Sakuragi’s genius AND shows his willingness to pave the way for Sakuragi. He is no longer the person who is unwilling to guide Sakuragi, or to instruct him on the spot like what we saw above. After the suicidal save, Sakuragi has earned Rukawa’s respect and admiration as a fellow athlete. Rukawa now readily shows Sakuragi the way as long as he is willing to follow his examples. He always knows what’s best to do to cheer Sakuragi up or how to encourage him to keep going. He’s not the cold scoring machine that everyone hails him to be, but a caring teammate who understands Sakuragi well.

In conclusion, while it seems that Sakuragi has very little impact on Rukawa as a character, it’s actually the opposite. Rukawa rarely reveals his thoughts and intentions to anyone and initially, his method of communicating is unconventional in a sense that it always makes him look distant and detached. However, as the story progresses, Rukawa gradually becomes more sympathetic and caring towards Sakuragi. He shows his obvious admiration towards Sakuragi and eventually regards him as an equal. 

[sirthisisa-wendys]

hope i’m not too late, but congratulations on getting 500 followers! i adore everything you’ve written so far, keep up the good work!

can i request an exes au with geto x f!reader? not too angsty, but whether they get back together or not is up to you 👀

You said "not too angsty" but my mind said "HIT EM RIGHT IN THE FEELS" and I don't know wHyYyYyY

Please forgive me, but this... this is the epitome of my "ex of Geto" feelings. It literally flowed out of me in two hours.

"Yes, But...": Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

wc: 2k

tw: FLUFF AND A LIL' BIT OF ANGST

The large envelope slides from his hands to yours, and you look at the package in confusion as you open the flap.

“You want to get out of here and start fresh,” Geto begins, lacing his fingers together. You find a phone, two banking cards, and two passports inside, which is more than what you asked for. “You’ll need that.” When you open the phone, you see various apps loaded on the device - most of which are foreign to you. “Open the banking app.”

You do as your ex tells you, and see the collection of numbers (six digits) and the single comma that will change your life. You look up at the man in awe, trying to catch his black gaze as he looks outside, not speaking.

“Su, I just needed a new passport, not all of this.”

“It should put you in a good place for a few months until you get a good job. I have a friend in the States that should be able to put you up in a nice house, all paid for, of course. There’s a private school nearby so you don’t have to drive Haru there and back, just walk. And there are--”

“Suguru,” you stop him mid-sentence, placing your hand on the table to try and reach him. “We don’t need all of this. My parents are willing to--”

“I’m not sending you back to them, y/n. I want you to be independent of anyone else,” he retorts, nostrils flaring at the mention of your family. You know his frustration with your relatives comes from an honest place.

They had treated you savagely after you married into the Geto family, calling you all kinds of names and not even attending the birth of their first grandson. You weren’t sure if it was the ties to the underground that set them off or the fact that the Geto family had brought in a considerable amount of wealth and fame to your lives. Either way, you were cut off from them until you divorced Suguru due to--

“Our flight leaves at ten o’clock tomorrow,” you whisper, and Suguru shifts in his seat, sighing. “Will you come to see Haru before we go?” There’s a long pause as your ex-husband weighs his options, but you know his choice before he speaks.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he finally answers.

_____________________________________________________________

Tickets in hand, you try to keep your composure as you watch your son hold on to his father for the last time. Your other hand is captured in Suguru’s large palm, and he squeezes your fingers tenderly as you walk to the security checkpoint. While you walk, he talks to your son in gentle tones, telling him to write to him about all of the amazing things he sees and does, as well as the friends he makes, and how daddy still loves him no matter where he goes.

When he finally lets Haru down and places his Inosuke backpack around his shoulders, you turn to Geto, expecting him to say something final, something meaningful. But he doesn’t, opting to pull you into a deep embrace and kissing all over your face. “Please stay safe. Call when you make it in.”

“I will,” you whisper, inhaling the scent of his cologne and reliving your life together in a brief flash. “I promise.”

“I love you, y/n.” You want to reply that you love him, too, that the separation wasn’t his fault - but you just nod. The feeling of tiny arms around your legs makes you look down, and you both see Haru wrapping himself around your legs, holding you two together earnestly. When he lets go, Suguru lets go, and you hoist the toddler into your arms.

“Say ‘see you later,” you tell the child and he slowly waves his hand at Suguru as you walk past the agent at the checkpoint. Haru doesn’t stop waving until he can no longer see Geto, and he also waves until he can no longer see you, finally dropping his hand to his side and wondering why he felt so empty.

_____________________________________________________________

“Today we learned about the rainbow,” Haru sings as he skips with you down the sidewalk.

“Oh, yeah?” you laugh, holding his hand as he swings back and forth.

“And we played in the dirt.” That explains the messy pants, you muse, rounding the corner to the back of your home and unlocking the fence before letting Haru run up the back porch and inside the house.

You lock the fence behind you and follow your son inside, thinking of all the things you had to do before his sixth birthday party the next day. Suguru said he would be sending a surprise - you begged him not to send the fake nichirin sword you already purchased and stowed away - so you’d have to accommodate for whatever he sent your way, which was bound to be lavish.

Among other things that he provided (a house, a car, preschool, an on-call babysitter if you wanted to go out, a nain rug you looked at once and said you liked but you weren’t sure about), Suguru also spoke to Haru every evening, which made you feel at ease. He hadn’t ceased to be in Haru’s life after you divorced, so this wasn’t out of the blue. Co-parenting with him was still easy and somewhat effortless, even thousands of miles away.

You’re still lost in thought when the doorbell rings, and Haru leaps down the stairs to answer it, despite telling him not to do that time and time again. Quickly, you sidestep the boy and open the door, forgetting to check the peephole first. If you had, it might have prevented the massive shock both you and Haru have at the sight of Suguru standing in the entryway.

“Suguru…” you whisper, and Haru immediately goes to hug his father, squeezing him tightly.

“Oh, look at you,” Suguru groans, leaning down to pick up his son. “You’ve gotten bigger since I last saw you, huh?”

“I’m two inches taller!” You shake your head at the toddler’s estimation, smiling, but still in shock. Your eyes roam over the man’s appearance. He looks just as you left him, with long hair and that gaze that could see into the deepest parts of your soul. It’s been a year, but nothing’s changed at all.

“Come on in,” you urge him, and he carries Haru inside, setting him down in the foyer. Haru dashes up the stairs to retrieve something, and you walk into the kitchen, Geto following you around and looking over his surroundings.

“It looks beautiful in here,” he murmurs, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “You’ve really outdone yourself.”

“You should see upstairs,” you reply. “That’s your son’s domain.” Suguru chuckles, then places his hands on the counter behind him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“I wanted to surprise both of you,” he shrugs and you sigh.

“There’s no guest bedroom.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he replies, and your first instinct is to balk at his suggestion and offer your bed. But you know Suguru’s considered his options already and would have gotten a hotel if he wanted to.

“Are your things--”

“In the car. I wanted to see if I was welcome first before I barged in with my stuff.” Haru reappears, holding up his drawing from school today.

“I drew this today! They told us to draw something we love,” your child smiles widely, showing his lack of a right front tooth. You peer over at the picture and see you - with a questionable hairstyle - Haru, and Geto holding hands in front of what you assume to be your house, and a grey… horse? cat? dog? off to the side. “And we have a cat. I named him Gojo after daddy’s friend.”

_____________________________________________________________

You hand Geto a pile of blankets and a pillow, hoping it would be enough to keep him warm on the couch. “You can turn the heat up downstairs if you need to,” you advise, and he nods, taking the offerings. He pauses in your bedroom, wanting to say something.

“Thank you,” he finally whispers, then walks away, leaving you in the room to contemplate your still brooding feelings for the man who walked into your home less than six hours ago.

“Wait,” you call out softly, and he returns, searching your face. “Did you get me that job at the museum?” you wonder, crossing your arms over your chest. “The head of the museum told me I came highly recommended for the Director of Curation position.”

“And if I did?” he wonders, angling his head to the left a little and frowning. You recognize his tell immediately and nod, biting the inside of your lip. “I promised to provide for you and Haru for as long as I’m alive. I’m not going to break that promise.”

Those words stay with you as you toss and turn in the bed hours later, trying to sleep. You’re failing miserably, you realize when you look at the clock, and you rise out of bed, padding downstairs to get some tea and calm down. You tiptoe past the hallway to the living room, hoping you wouldn’t wake Suguru as you heat up a cup of water.

You’ve almost succeeded in your mission when you hear a yawn and the familiar cracking of toes and ankles as Suguru walks into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.

“Can’t sleep,” you explain and he nods, pulling a chamomile tea packet from the caddy by the cabinets. He rips open the packet and hands it to you, leaning against the counter as you dunk it in the cup and watch the color seep out.

“I still remember,” Suguru whispers, recalling the nights you spent awake while you were pregnant with Haru and how the tea was the only thing that could soothe you enough to sleep. He thumbs over to the living room and you follow, settling into the couch beside him. “Nightmares? Or just insomnia?”

“Insomnia,” you reply, and he motions for you to place your feet in his lap. He begins rubbing them methodically, taking his time on the soles as you lean into the arm of the couch and sigh.

“Remember when we used to watch Jeopardy before bed and you’d fall asleep mid-answer?” he chuckles, and you shake your head, a smile pulling at your lips.

“Those were some hard nights,” you reply, and he hums thoughtfully.

“I wonder where it all went wrong.”

You both knew where it went wrong. There was no privacy, no semblance of peace, nowhere you two could go without someone knowing everything and being in your business. And adding Haru to the mix made everything worse. The breaking point came when you were playing with him in the backyard and heard the sound of a shutter capturing your every move. Suguru broke the camera and the man’s arm, but the damage had been done. The only way you could escape the limelight was divorcing him and his name, then escaping somewhere where no one cared who you were or who you used to be. Here, you were just… y/n.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be the wife you wanted,” you whisper, and Suguru shakes his head.

“No, you were - are - the wife I want. I didn’t protect you enough. I should be the one apologizing.”

“Don’t,” you urge him, setting the un-sipped tea on the coffee table. “Don’t apologize.”

“Then I won’t,” he replies, pulling you closer. “But I have to confess something.”

“Say it.”

“My family bought property nearby. I’ll be stateside more often than not.” Geto smoothes a hand across your cheek, cupping your chin as you move onto his lap slowly.

“Haru will love that,” you breathe.

“But will you love that?” he wonders, ghosting his lips over yours.

“Yes, but--” He presses his lips to yours tenderly, cutting you off. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer, feeling all of your shared love in that one kiss.

“Yes, but...?” he asks, pulling away and raising a brow.

“Was this your plan all along?” Suguru smiles, nipping at your bottom lip. His arm curls around your waist as he pins you beneath him, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“And if it was?”

“It’s definitely working.” Suguru hums in pleasure and continues to kiss you until you're at peace in his arms again, and fast asleep.

[jasleh]

FFxivWrite2022 Prompt 2: Bolt

bolt hole, bolting away

character: Rrahna time period: beginning of 6.1

...

It had been a full moon since the Scions had "disbanded." Rrahna had spent every moment of it since leaving Mor Dhona in the place that had become an unexpected (and highly secret) refuge for her - the home of her lover. It was a rare indulgence for her - usually she only dared a night or two every few days. The longest she had spent there previously had been a week following her initial return from the First. With the Scions still trapped, Tataru and Krile had been too occupied to wonder where she might have disappeared to, and she had been beyond exhausted. This time had been far more risky, but Rrahna had been in far too much pain to leave. Anywhere else, she would have had to hide it, push through - as she had been doing the week prior, ever since they had returned from Ultima Thule. Everyone had marveled at the miraculous speed of her recovery, but the Warrior of Light could not be seen to hobble, no matter how much she hurt... and after most of the Scions had berated her for making them worry and coming back so wounded, she could not let them see her pain either. She could tell Urianger had seen through the act from the beginning, but he hadn't called her on it, merely advised her to rest in spite of her claimed lack of pain. It had been a kindness that she hoped she would be brave enough grasp someday, should the opportunity arise. Without that week of pretending she was fine, Rrahna likely would have recovered faster, but at long last she was beginning to feel like herself again. It was still miraculous speed for the gravity of the wounds she had received at Zenos's hands, but the Blessing of Light - Venat's traveler's ward - had long granted her such. Much as she did not want to leave her sanctuary yet, it was time for her to check in on people. The Warrior of Light could not just drop off the face of the star. Sooner or later people would go looking for her, and she very desperately did not want to be found out. Especially by her friends. The very thought of trying to explain made her flinch away. She could barely explain it to herself, and she had lived it. Rrahna went to Tataru first. The enterprising lalafell had both a regular location and was probably in regular contact with the others, so it seemed the best place to make an appearance. Tataru was delighted to see her, as expected, immediately setting her down with refreshments. "It's so much quieter these days without everyone around... Not that I'm pining for your return, you understand. I have my sources, and I know that each and every one of you is doing well and keeping busy with your endeavors." The subtle stress Tataru put on the words, not to mention the knowing smile she gave Rrahna over her cup of tea, made Rrahna's heart sink into her shoes. Her ears flattened against her head. "Y-ye do, do ye?" she managed, in a shakier voice than she would have preferred. Tataru's smile widened. "Mm-hm" Rrahna sank into her chair, holding her tea cup before her face like it could shield her. "Please do no tell anyone," she said in a very small voice. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it." Tataru's smile was now a full on grin - and a distressingly familiar one. The one that said 'I have blackmail material and I know how to use it.' It was the smile she'd given a certain pirate captain before sending Rrahna and a few others off to the Far East. "Now then... did you have any plans for the immediate future?" ... Some time later, after Rrahna had all but bolted out of her presence (And actually wearing her new outfit for once! Honestly the only time she had gotten that girl to change clothes it had been to go to Garlemald, and she would have frozen to death otherwise.) Tataru raised a hand to her linkpearl, once more in the privacy of the Rising Stones. "Krile? You won't believe what I just confirmed. Yes, I know you told me that was where she was hiding, but honestly, who would have believed it? But the way she reacted, your theory must be true. But don't let on that you know, I promised her I wouldn't tell anyone." There had been an undercurrent of 'so long as you give me some advertising by wearing the clothes I made,' but that was hardly important.

"No, she didn't fill in any details. Too much experience with seeing your technique, most like. Still, I'm sure I'll be able to find out more one way or another~" Really, it was almost embarrassing that a secret like this had escaped her for this long. She wasn't even sure how long 'this long' was. But Tataru Taru knew a thing or two about finding things out.

[trashahime]

Anon, sorry for taking so long and the length. There was a lot to address and I tend to ramble. Due to the length I am going to divide your ask in chunks and respond to each paragraph individually for clarity's sake.

I'm curious as to why you have addressed this to Sesskagu shippers both here and later. TBH, this alone will make many doubt that you are truly neutral because you seem to have fallen for the common but false claim that the anti sentiment has it's roots in bitterness over a lost ship war.

Those supporting the end are made up of a variety of people who are simply united in their dislike/disappointment. Among them are shippers and non-shippers, antis, neutrals and even some SR fans who are bothered by how their ship is portrayed.

Personally, I don't think it takes any kind of mental gymnastics to have a problem with how Sessrin is depicted in Yashahime. There are some antis who probably do purposely make the worst possible interpretations to fuel their disgust/anger. But most are being completely sincere in their belief that Rin was married and pregnant by the time she was 15. You have probably already seen and dismissed all the anti arguments to support this view so it would be pointless to rehash them. You can believe it's just about disliking Sessrin but there were many antis like myself who were willing to accept the relationship even if we found it distasteful had Sunrise gone about things differently.

Each "hater" has their own reason for continuing to watch the show and I can't speak for them. Or as a "hater" either as I enjoyed the show. But I also think it's a trainwreck with many issues and problematic portrayals.

If people are targeting individuals and maliciously interacting with their posts then that is definitely harassment. However, I suspect you also mean the general posts made by antis criticizing those who watch the show.

The belief that watching/supporting Yashahime equals supporting a p*dophilic portrayal of Sessrin and other unsavory stuff is an opinion I disagree with. But I also disagree that expressing that opinion is harassment.

I get why you find it to be extremely harsh and hurtful but I also think you are taking it very personally when you needn't.

Consider my position. I'm an anti that still enjoys Yashahime. Most of those posts are made by my moots, some of which I have very friendly interactions with. I have even more reason to feel personally attacked by them but I don't. Just because I respect someone's right to an opinion that doesn't mean I am obligated to agree with it and make it apply it to myself. Unless you agree that liking Yashahime means condoning p*dophilia, then I'd advise you to take the view that those posts don't pertain to you at all.

As for petitions, bad reviews, being glad Yashahime is almost over... Well that's some of the least offensive actions an anti can take. Two of the three are against corporations, not fellow fandom members and the other is just a celebration amongst themselves.

They don't affect anyone else unless the petitions and bad reviews are substantial enough to put the shows future in jeopardy. IMO, the correct counter action is good reviews and supportive petitions, not telling antis to stop. They have the right to express their opinions.

I have seen many grooming and csa survivors say they also don't view Sessrin as having those aspects. However, there are many survivors on the anti side that strongly disagree. While I think that the opinions of those who have endured similar circumstances have more weight, it also creates kind of a never ending tug of war situation where neither side can really "win" the argument because they are equally balanced. For every survivor saying it is, there is one saying it's not.

Generally, I choose not to use the words p*dophilia or grooming when describing the Sessrin relationship or say that everyone who likes the pairing is a P&G apologist.

Many antis don't agree on this, but I think it's possible to have headcanons and scenarios that result in a version of Sessrin in which those things are not present. Fanonwise anyway. To me, the canon situation can definitely be interpreted to believe that they are present.

Mostly, I tend not to use the terms because they have specific psychological and legal definitions. That makes it very easy for SR fans to completely dismiss the idea that they could apply to Sessrin because it's not a perfect fit. I think if it turns out to be part of actual canon or if it's just part of one's own headcanon that Sesshomaru was "waiting" for Rin to grow up and courting her with gifts like the kimonos then that means he had a romantic interest in her when she was too young for it to be acceptable.

He might not be a technical p*do in that he is attracted to children, but his thoughts and actions are of one with regards to Rin. I agree with those that say Sesshomaru would never intentionally manipulate or pressure Rin to be with him, thus not "technically" grooming.

However, informing her via courting that he wants to be with her when she is older does put a type of manipulative pressure on her. For years, she will have to live with the knowledge that her literal savior, the most important person to her in the world, someone she loves and doesn't want to disappoint, is waiting for her. It will absolutely influence her life choices and who she becomes.

No need to apologise, I don't mind being vented at and am clearly prone to long-ass messages myself.

I think you do have some valid frustrations but I don't think they all are.

It's often forgotten that antis are major fans too. Many wanted to love Yashahime but in their eyes Yashahime "bashes" the OG and it's characters. It's ruined something they held near and dear. And they are highly upset about it.

Think about it, that's probably why you and others are so angry at the criticism. It's bashing something you all enjoy or maybe even love and it's making you highly upset. You all are more alike then you realize.

You can let it all impact your fandom experience or realise there is very little you can do about it because that criticism, even if you find it unfounded, harsh or extreme has the right to exist provided it doesn't break the rules of the website. You won't be able to block it all away.

it's a tired old cliche but it's true that you can't control what others do, only your own reaction to it. And frankly I think some of your reactions are as extreme as to what you ascribe to antis. I mean, you want them to stop celebrating the end of Yashahime. How does that really personally affect you?

A change in perspective as I described earlier goes a long way in not taking anti criticism personally. It even works when you are being personally attacked. I have seen posts about me specifically saying I am a deluded and deranged individual with real life mental health issues just because I think Kagura is the mom. Those people don't know me and I know the truth about myself. So why let someone's unfounded false world view affect me or my fandom experience?

Anyway, you probably just wanted to rant and weren't expecting or wanting this massive response. I hope you find a way to deal with the negativity because it's not completely avoidable but it will die down eventually.

[sytco]

collision theory [joochan]

pairing: hong joochan x reader

word count: 1k

in which you meet a boy running from the rules and straight into your heart.

a/n: this joochan high school au drabble would NOT leave me alone until i posted it despite knowing i have 2 requests to finish + edit + post but i forgive it because it’s so cute even though i’m the one who wrote it LOL also in future i would be really interested in making this into a full blown fic!! but for now please show it lots of love!!! thank you!!!!!! -ju

~

The first time you meet Joochan coincidentally happens to be the first time you nearly set your chemistry class on fire.

In retrospect, the new burn you sport on your thumb is minor and will heal up after a week, except your chemistry teacher is also a frazzled worrywart who immediately frog marches you to the infirmary as soon as the panic has died down and advises the nurse to keep you in bed until lunch. It may also be because she’s scared you’ll cause some other big incident that really will cause a school evacuation this time but either way, you’re not complaining because it means you get to miss national history and nap instead.

Or at least, that’s the working plan until someone abruptly slides the curtain of your cubicle back and loudly clears his throat.

Your eyes shoot open and - instead of some random teacher - you see a rather sweaty-looking boy with a shock of light blonde hair, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

He points to the bed you’re lying on. “Are you on the brink of death?”

“What?”

Something about his voice tells you that he is not joking but you are still dumbfounded.

“I said, are you”- You shake your head hurriedly as soon as you spot how his left foot has started tapping impatiently.

The boy breathes a quick sigh of relief. “Great. Okay. Just - don’t say anything, alright? You never saw me.”

And then without any further warning, he dives under the bed and rearranges the sheets so as to conceal himself entirely from anyone who might have been hunting for a boy clearly breaking the school’s regulations on hair color, and poked their head through the entrance of the infirmary.

All of this happens within the span of twenty seconds before you can hear your school’s discipline officer’s robust voice from across the room.

“Is anyone in here?”

You stay quiet as per Mysterious Blonde Boy’s request.

“Oi, you there”- and the discipline officer draws close to your bed - “have you seen anyone run by here? About this tall and sporting yellow hair?”

Despite not being a good actor, you hope the look of confused innocence on your face is enough to fool the officer and it apparently works because he then sighs in a somewhat defeated manner. “Alright. Sorry for interrupting your rest, anyway. If you do see him, come let me know, won’t you?” And he walks off, leaving you to lean back against the pillows you’d propped up.

Another ten seconds tick by.

“Is he gone yet?”

You jump, not accustomed to hearing a voice speak from beneath you. “Y-yes. I think. He’s not in the room, if that helps.”

“Hm. I’ll stay here just a few minutes more so he can put more distance between us, if you don’t mind.” You don’t really, despite how odd this entire situation is, but you worry about him having to hide all cramped up beneath your bed and you tell him as much.

“I’ve hidden in worse places,” he tells you nonchalantly. “So. What are you in here for?”

You subconsciously look down at your thumb, encased in a thick white bandage that you have already started picking at. “I nearly burned down my chemistry class.”

“Oh, that was you?” The boy’s voice sounds amused now and you flush at how the news of your mishap seems to have already spread so quickly. “My friend is in that class, by the way. That’s how I heard about it. You know Kim Jibeom? Tall and in the music performance club?”

You nod before realizing the boy can’t see you. “He gave a great presentation last week about the lab we did on recombinant DNA.”

“Yeah, Jibeom’s pretty smart,” he says. “But clumsy. And so are you, I guess. How’d you end up nearly committing arson anyway?”

It might be the fact that his voice is so comforting and soft that you find yourself focusing less on the fear that he will think you ridiculous like everyone else might. And so you tell him the whole story: from the way you just had to pick the only faulty Bunsen burner in the whole classroom to the way your partner had neglected to turn the gas off, and finally how your lab coat sleeve had caught on the lips of some test tubes containing Highly Inflammatory Materials to the detriment of your teacher’s sanity. He interjects at the appropriate intervals with funny quips about the whole situation that have you feeling better, like maybe you weren’t the world’s biggest embarrassment - and this is how you end up spending your time in the infirmary, swapping stories with the boy beneath your bed about all the times you’ve both been hilariously unlucky.

In fact, the time passes so swiftly that you both forget about the predicament the boy is in until the bell rings to signal the end of lunchtime. With a rustle, he slides out unceremoniously from his hiding place of the last twenty minutes. And this is when you get your first, proper look at him, at the bright smile on his face, at the name on his badge. 

Hong Joochan.

“Thanks for everything,” he says and now that you finally have a face to properly associate with the voice, you feel a little awkward again. You guess he does too because he clears his throat again but much more quietly this time. “Well - I suppose I’ll get going now.”

It’s strange, this feeling of disappointment that has suddenly lodged itself in your throat. “Okay.”

“I’ll see you around probably, seeing as you’re in Jibeom’s class.”

You nod.

He nods too before smiling again and turning on his heel to walk out of the infirmary just as suddenly as he’d run into it.

Left to stare dumbly out the window, you think back to his smile for a brief moment.

Oh. Oh.

You exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding onto and place a shaky hand over your rapidly beating heart.

-

feedback is always Always greatly appreciated

[pickalilywrites]

it’s my first fic since i started my job ❤ i hope you enjoy ^^

..........

You and Me at the End of the World 

Falbi. SF8 AU. 

11194 words. 

Read on Ao3!

»»————- April 3, 2026 ————-««

Falco wakes, a sigh escaping his lips. He feels an incredible weariness in his bones as if he had run a marathon yesterday even though he hasn’t really had PE in a month. He hasn’t had PE since his teacher had run off just like everyone else did when they heard that an asteroid was hurtling towards the earth and set to destroy life as everyone knew it. Everyone Falco knew just up and left their jobs and homes to pursue their dreams: his classmates dropped out of school to become idols or viral TikTokers, the mailman stopped delivering mail to Falco’s house and decided to fly to every place in the world he had always wanted to visit, and even the principal of Falco’s school had resigned but not before advising all of the students to drop out of school because it was useless now that they were all about to die. 

Many people had taken the principal’s advice, but not Falco. He still goes to school on the weekdays and spends the weekend completing homework assignments that will never be graded. A few students had visited the school even after the principal had closed the school down, but they had stopped coming after they saw how many of their peers had dropped out and saw how even the teachers didn’t bother coming back. 

It doesn’t bother Falco that he goes to school every morning and studies in an empty classroom all day or that he has to fish out study plans from the notebooks his teachers left behind just to give himself something to do. His parents have asked him why he bothers going to school when all of his classmates have pretty much given up, but Falco really doesn’t have an answer. If he had to say anything, it’s probably that he doesn’t have anything in particular that he wants to do. 

Falco acknowledges that he’s never been incredibly ambitious like some of his classmates have been. His talents are unspectacular. He knows that he’s neither athletic nor smart. He’s always been average. He never studied too hard because he knew he’d never get the highest score in the class and he never exerted himself too much in PE because there was always someone stronger or faster than him. It isn’t something that ever bothered him, and he’s grown to accept that part of himself. 

He doesn’t have any special interests either. Sure, Falco enjoys playing video games and playing sports like any kid his age, but he can’t see himself wasting the rest of his days on them. Some of his classmates even asked him to join them. Falco has had multiple offers: join a band as a bassist even though he’s never touched a bass guitar in his life, become a part of a dance crew despite his coordination being awful at best, start a video channel pulling off different stunts and tricks to gain a little bit of spotlight before they all died, among others. He declined all of them in the end, preferring to be alone, and even now Falco doesn’t regret his decision. He’s content being a normal kid living out the rest of his tedious life as monotonously as he always did.

His parents live quite normally too except for the fact that they quit their jobs like everybody else did when news of the asteroid came out. Rather than return to their jobs every morning, his parents go out on long walks together, often visiting places from their younger days. They usually leave long before Falco wakes, but his mother is always sure to leave out a freshly made breakfast for Falco and his older brother Colt. 

Colt hasn’t made any drastic changes to his lifestyle, not like some other people his age. He, too, dropped out of school like many of his peers and Falco’s classmates, but he usually spends his time visiting internet cafés or playing baseball with his friends. The elder brother once curiously asked Falco why he bothered going to school and the younger just simply shrugged. Colt never bothered to ask again, and Falco was fine with that. 

Falco rolls out of bed and heads to the bathroom to brush his teeth as he normally does. His hair looks like a mess. Since news of the upcoming apocalypse, people either care excessively about their appearance or they don’t care about it at all. Considering his circumstances, Falco should probably fall in the latter category, but he fixes his bed head all the same, patting down the cowlicks and running a comb through his hair to get rid of all the tangles. 

After washing his face and getting dressed in his school uniform, Falco wanders into the kitchen where his breakfast is waiting for him. On the stove sits a pan with fluffy scrambled eggs mixed with little bits of crispy, dark spinach leaves, and sweet gruyère. Falco twists the knob on the stove with a sharp click before popping bread into the toaster. As he waits for the eggs to warm up, he fixes himself a glass of orange juice. 

Falco ends up splitting the eggs in half, leaving a portion for Colt whenever he decides to roll out of bed. He sits at the kitchen island by himself, munching on some generously buttered toast in between bites of egg. It’s a much fancier breakfast than his mother used to make. Scrambled eggs were usually plain except for a dash of salt and pepper, but his mother has become more experimental with her cooking now that the end of the world is evident. It’s a good change, Falco thinks as the blend of savory bacon and salted eggs melt onto his tongue. It probably would have been nice if his mother had decided to be more adventurous with her cooking beforehand, but it’s not as if having regrets about this can change the past so Falco just eats the rest of his breakfast before dumping his plate in the sink and calling out to his brother that he’ll be heading to school. He doesn’t even wait for a response from Colt before heading out the door. 

Ever since news of the asteroid, Falco has begun seeing very interesting people on his way to school. Some of them are familiar to him. Others he’s never seen before in his life. They’re not all strange, of course. Sometimes there are just kids running up and down the road kicking a soccer ball or couples holding hands as they take a morning stroll. But there are more than a few eccentrics on Falco’s way to school. 

Lately, there have been people claiming to be superheroes. They have superpowers, they insist. Some will rush up to strangers on the street and show off their powers, but Falco has never seen any proof of their alleged superhuman talents. 

Some people post videos online demonstrating their special gifts. Falco has seen a handful of them, mostly because his friend Zofia keeps sending them to him every few days when she finds them particularly funny. He finds them mildly intriguing, although he’s fairly certain that most (if not all) of the videos are either staged or edited to look real. He’s never been fully convinced by any of them. 

On this particular walk to school, Falco passes by a person who claims to be able to create seismic shifts and another person who she can talk to animals. Neither person is particularly believable. Falco only gives a passing glance when the first person begins to demonstrate their powers by spinning in a circle and letting out a low groan that begins to grow into a loud shriek. The earth, Falco notices, does not shake. He’s even less interested when the animal girl starts shouting post-apocalyptic prophecies about how giant bugs will inherit the earth once the dust has settled on the earth after the asteroid impact. 

Falco reaches the school gate and pulls it open himself because there isn’t a teacher there to welcome him like there used to be. He leaves it open to save trouble for anyone who ends up coming after him, although he highly doubts anyone will be joining him. He walks across the courtyard where some of his former schoolmates play soccer, looking at them briefly but not bothering to bid them good morning. When he gets to the building, he pulls open the door and steps inside. The sound of his shoes against the speckled tile echo across the empty hallways as he makes his way to his classroom. 

As usual, it’s empty. Falco could probably sit anywhere he wants, but he ends up at his old desk, the second seat in the third row from the right. He sits down with a thud and lets his backpack fall off his shoulder. He pulls out his notebook and looks at today’s lesson that he copied from his homeroom teacher’s planner earlier last month: geometry, English, social studies, art, and science. 

Falco dutifully completes his assignments for the day. He even double-checks his answers once he’s done. Maybe he’ll look over the answer key after school if he feels like it. He spends his break staring at the window at the kids playing ball in the field or playing pranks on each other in the quad. He doesn’t make any attempt to join them. 

At 2:15, Falco packs his things. He puts away his pens and pencils neatly in his case, zips up his backpack, and slings his bag over his shoulder. As he walks to the door of the classroom, he thinks he imagines footsteps running down the hall. It makes him wonder if the impending apocalypse is making him go mad because he can’t imagine why anyone would be here when the world is going to end in a week. When he pulls open the door, he sees his friend Zofia about to reach for the door. 

“Oh, good,” Zofia pants. She bends over, hands on her knees as she tries to catch her breath. Ashy blonde locks are falling out of her ponytail. “I was afraid I missed you. You weren’t replying to any of my texts.” 

“We’re not allowed to use our phones in school,” Falco says as he looks down at her. 

Zofia looks up, an expression of mild disbelief on her face. “Geez, I can’t believe you’re still doing this.” She straightens up and sighs. “Our teachers probably appreciated what a goody-two-shoes you were back when they actually cared about their jobs, but I assure you that they don’t care at all now that the world is about to end.” 

Falco rolls his eyes and walks past Zofia. He can hear her following him from the extra footsteps that accompany his. “What do you need? I thought you were busy trying to pet ‘every dog in the world’ or whatever before the asteroid strikes.” 

Zofia’s arm links with Falco’s and she flashes a cheesy smile at him. “I realized it was impossible so I settled for petting ‘as many dogs as possible.’ I’m pretty satisfied with my work, so I’ve decided on pursuing something else.” She doesn’t immediately follow up with what it is she’s working on, and Falco knows she’s absolutely itching for him to ask. 

“... What is it?” Falco asks. 

“I’m glad you asked!” Zofia says, tugging him closer to her. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and flips through it for a bit before finding what she wants to show Falco. On her screen is a long post on one of the message boards their classmates post on. “There’s this girl. She’s totally crazy.” 

A glance at the phone screen confirms Zofia’s words. It’s a post that looks like it’s been circulating through message boards of different middle schools in their area. The original poster is someone named Gabi Braun, aged 14, and she attends Liberio Middle School across the city. Her post is a call for all people with superpowers to contact her so that they can save the world together. 

Falco looks at Zofia and wrinkles his nose. “And you’re showing me this because …?” 

“Because she’s absolutely crazy, but she’s interesting,” Zofia replies as she pockets her phone. She smiles at Falco. “Let’s go visit her.” 

“What? No!” Falco says. He yanks his arm away from Zofia. “You said she was nuts! Why would we look for her?” 

“Because the world is ending in a few days, so we might as well do something stupid,” Zofia replies. She links her arm around Falco’s again and pouts, batting her eyelashes up at him. “Come on, aren’t you the least bit curious? There’s a girl our age who thinks she can save the world if she gathers enough nutjobs who think they have superpowers.” 

Falco isn’t curious at all. “I have homework,” he says to Zofia, which he knows is the wrong answer. Although Zofia hasn’t tried to convince Falco to stop going to school like the rest of their peers, she has been pretty vocal about how stupid she thinks Falco is for living the end of his life so mundanely. 

“You also have a friend,” Zofia says. She begins to tug at him after every other word, trying to get him to follow her. “A friend you care about deeply and don’t want to see hurt if she ends up walking into some creep’s trap.” 

“Then why are you going at all if you know it might be dangerous?” Falco mutters, but he knows Zofia’s right. His normal school life consists of him going straight home after classes and doing his homework, but it occasionally includes him reluctantly following Zofia sometimes to make sure she doesn’t get into too much trouble. He’s not too surprised when he ends up walking with Zofia to the meeting place the poster mentioned in their message. 

Normally, Falco and Zofia would have taken the bus into the city, but it’s difficult to flag down a bus. The schedules are erratic at best and oftentimes buses don’t show up on schedule at all. It is the end of the world, after all. 

It’s a curious thing, seeing the city at the end of the world. It’s a little bit like how the movies portray it, but not at all like the movies at the same time. Cars fill the street while drivers honk their horns and shout at each other to hurry up because they don’t want to spend their last days on earth stuck in traffic. The doors and windows of so many shops and buildings are smashed in and their contents gone. If people aren’t running around and screaming at each other on the street, they’re walking around like it’s a normal day save for the fact that they’re all looking for the next thing they want to do before they die. 

“I’d suggest going to the mall downtown or something later, but it’s probably ransacked like everywhere else,” Zofia says with a wistful sigh. 

“We could have just gone to the arcade in our town,” Falco mutters. The internet café and the arcade in their town is a mess because none of the gamers there bother to clean up their trash anymore, but at least there are still computers there and nobody has hauled off the arcade machines. 

The two wander about the city and linger near the subway station entrance the message board poster had mentioned. There are people going up and down the stairs to the subways and some kids skating around and doing tricks on their skateboards. Adults pass by hurriedly with their phone stuck to one ear, rushing to make plans with someone on the other end because they have limited time left. It feels like Zofia and Falco are just standing frozen in time while the world rushes around them. 

“Who do you think it is?” Zofia whispers in Falco’s ear. 

Falco scans the scene, his eyes quickly flitting over anyone that didn’t look like a middle schooler. He doesn’t think it would be any of the skateboarders, so he glances over them too. Whoever this Gabi Braun is, she doesn’t have any interest in anything aside from saving the world with her impossible idea. She must be looking for people just like he and Zofia are looking for her. 

Finally, his eyes land on a girl their age with a stern expression on her face. Her dark eyebrows are knitted together and she turns her head from side to side every few seconds as she scans the subway station, her brown hair whipping from side to side. She leans against the railing near the subway entrance, her arms folded across her chest. Somehow, she looks familiar, but Falco doesn’t know why. 

“Her,” Falco says. He raises his hand and points to her only to realize it’s rude and quickly lets his hand fall to his side. He’s about to jerk his head over in the girl’s direction, but Zofia has already seen who he was pointing to and starts dragging him over. 

“Excuse me,” Zofia says, catching the girl’s attention. The girl’s gaze is intense, her brown eyes scrutinizing the two of them, but Zofia doesn’t shrink away from the girl like Falco does. Instead, Zofia holds out a hand cordially and gives the girl a friendly smile. “You’re Gabi Braun, right? I’m Zofia, and this is my friend Falco. We saw your message reposted on our school forum and wanted to help you.” 

The girl looks at them suspiciously but takes Zofia’s hand, shaking it reluctantly. “You really want to help?” Her eyes flit towards Falco, who looks down immediately. “Why do you want to help me?” 

“Hmm,” Zofia hums and tilts her head to the side. “Because the end of the world isn’t something I’m particularly looking forward to.” She looks over at Falco and, with a grin, elbows him playfully in the ribs. “And this guy doesn’t have anything better to do, so I had him come along.” 

“What were you doing before?” Gabi asks curiously.

Falco purses his lips. It’s not that he’s ashamed about how he’s spending his last days. Living plainly is a far better choice than some people have made. Apparently, some people decided that murder was something they needed to check off their bucket list. If you ask Falco, he thinks being a normal student is far better than being a last-minute murderer. Still, it’s not something he wants to say out loud to a stranger. 

He kicks at the sidewalk and mumbles, “Just … homework and stuff.” 

To his surprise, Gabi doesn’t ridicule him or ask why. She simply nods as if this is a perfectly normal way for someone to spend their last days. She doesn’t ask them any more questions, somehow satisfied with Falco’s answer. She’s already digging around in her back for something and pulls a laptop out of her bag. 

“I’m still waiting for people to show up, but I wouldn’t be surprised if nobody ends up showing,” Gabi says, gesturing for the two of them to sit beside her. Her tone doesn’t sound disappointed at all. In fact, she sounds rather like she expected this to happen. 

Zofia sits on one side of Gabi, peering curiously over the brunette’s shoulder as she types away. Falco wants to sit beside Zofia. It would be more comfortable than sitting next to a stranger, but he would have difficulty seeing the screen. Reluctantly, he takes a seat next to Gabi. 

“I’ve been looking at videos,” Gabi tells them. “People have been submitting them after seeing my message on the school forums.” 

“Is there anyone particularly interesting to you?” Zofia asks. 

“Not really,” Gabi says. She opens up a folder on her screen and a video file pops up. She presses Play. “Technology lets you edit anything into videos now. Some of these powers look super fake, but I still have to take a chance in case they do have powers and are interested in saving the world, right?” 

The three watch the video play out. There’s a man on the screen claiming to have pyrokinesis. He’s wide-eyed and staring at the camera, holding out his hands with his palms to the ceiling. His explanation of his powers is similar to everyone else who has posted these kinds of videos on social media: he was just born with them and never bothered to reveal them until now for fear of being ostracized. 

The flame doesn’t ignite right away. It’s a flicker — a spark, really —  that grows into the smallest flame. The fire is hardly the size of the man’s fingertip, but he looks delighted just the same. The three children watching are not as thrilled. 

“You really think this guy can save the world?” Zofia asks, raising her eyebrow. 

“I don’t think this guy can save anyone,” Gabi replies. She’s so brutally honest that it would be funny if they weren’t discussing the fate of the world. “But I’m taking whatever help I can get at this point.” 

They spend the rest of that afternoon looking through applications. Most of them are just internet trolls and Gabi has to roll her eyes more than once before closing out the applicant’s video. There are a few promising candidates Gabi moves to a separate folder but only when Falco and Zofia also agree that the person might be worth looking into. They go through written applications too, often filtering out any CVs that aren’t descriptive enough and sometimes those that are too descriptive and more fitted to some sci-fi character description than an actual person. Gabi calls a few numbers from the short list of people that the three all agreed on, but nobody ever picks up. Nobody shows up either. Still, Gabi doesn’t seem to be discouraged. 

“Why are you doing this?” Falco asks at one point while they’re watching a video of a man who claims he can read people’s thoughts. 

“Hm?” Gabi says, looking away from the video. 

“Just … this whole thing,” Falco says and vaguely waves at the screen. “You know it too. This might not work, so why even bother trying to save the world?”

Gabi frowns and her eyebrows knit together like she doesn’t quite understand Falco’s question. “Well, what else would I be doing?” 

Falco doesn’t respond because, well, he doesn’t have an answer. It’s not like he knows what to do with the rest of his life either. If Zofia hadn’t convinced him to come here, he’d just be at home with his head stuck in a textbook. Even if it’s useless, whatever Gabi is doing is far more interesting. 

»»————- April 4, 2026 ————-««

Falco’s parents drop him off at the edge of the city. His mother had wanted to drop him off closer to his destination point, but Falco assured her that it wasn’t necessary. Besides, there were a lot of weirdos in the city, he reasoned, especially now that the apocalypse was coming. She reluctantly allowed him to be dropped off at the edge of the city, but not before giving him a can of pepper spray and a baseball bat in case he ran into anybody cruel enough to mug a middle schooler. 

He doesn’t have any trouble meeting Gabi at the library they agreed to meet at. Zofia isn’t there with him after deciding this morning that saving the world wasn’t what she wanted to spend her last moments doing. She did, however, request that Falco send Gabi her best wishes, which Falco promised to pass along. 

The two of them sit on the tenth floor of the library at a table by the window. The library isn’t exactly empty, but it’s not exactly filled up either. There are a few other visitors in the library with them. Some are seated at tables or couches, but others choose to sit between bookshelves, folding up their legs so that people can walk around if they need to get through. Hardly anyone pays attention to Falco and Gabi. They’re too busy flipping furiously through their books, eyes scanning the pages in seconds, as they try to finish their reading list before the world ends. 

While Gabi watches more videos of superpowered applicants while Falco gathers books on powers that interest them: pyrokinesis, psychokinesis, time travel, to name a few. As he gathers research articles, he also stumbles across the section of the library dedicated to outer space and celestial bodies and decides to grab a few books on asteroids and meteors as well. There’s a slim chance that they might help, but Falco might as well try. 

Gabi doesn’t talk much to Falco, too engrossed in her research to hold a conversation with him. He doesn’t talk much to her either. He does, on occasion, glance up at her to observe her progress, but she always seems to be staring at the screen with the same dissatisfied frown on her face. Every once in a while Gabi will lean over and ask Falco about whether or not a certain candidate looks promising, but his answer is almost always no and she goes back to staring at her screen. 

At noon, the two take their lunch break. Gabi hadn’t brought anything. She tells Falco she was planning on just grabbing something from the snack machine near the elevators. The library remains one of the few places that was relatively untouched by thieves and vandals because not many people think “let’s rob the library” when they hear that the world is ending. Because Falco’s mother has a tendency to overpack his lunches, Falco decides to split his meal with Gabi. He figures that a sandwich is far better than whatever half-filled bag of chips Gabi would end up grabbing from the vending machine. 

Falco munches on his katsu sandwich. It’s a favorite of his: two slices of pillowy milk bread with a thick cut of juicy pork cutlet covered in crispy bread crumbs wedged in between. A little butter and mustard give the sandwich a little bitterness that makes the tip of his tongue tingle and savory tonkatsu sauce drizzled over the thinly sliced cabbage underneath the katsu complete the simple but scrumptious sandwich. 

He looks over to see if Gabi is enjoying her food as much as he is, but she’s scarfing it down so quickly that he isn’t sure she’s even taking the time to taste it. In between bites, she’s scrolling through her laptop with greasy fingers, frowning. A glance at the notebook beside her tells Falco that Gabi hasn’t found many promising candidates. 

“Do you really think this is going to work?” Falco asks. He’s halfway done with his lunch but Gabi is a bite away from finishing hers.

Gabi shrugs. She doesn’t look up as she answers. “I don’t know. It’s worth a shot, right?” She scrolls a bit more before she pauses, her fingers hovering above the touchpad. Her eyes flicker over to Falco so suddenly that he nearly drops his sandwich. Gabi narrows her eyes at him suspiciously, her attention entirely on the boy. Her gaze is intense and she scoots to the edge of her seat, leaning in towards Falco. “You’re awfully skeptical about this plan for someone who’s trying to save the world.” 

Falco gulps, trying not to shy away from her intense gaze. If he were a turtle, he’d be curled back in his shell right now. “I just want to make sure we’re not wasting our time,” he mumbles. 

“Falco, do you not believe that people can have superpowers?” Gabi asks.

Falco is about to shake his head and say that that’s not the case but before he can Gabi settles back into her seat, arms folded across her chest, and announces, “I have a superpower.” She says it quite loudly, loudly enough for her voice to be heard across the entire floor, but people are too preoccupied with their reading to pay much attention to her although a few readers do shoot her a dirty look for being so loud. 

Falco is not quite sure what he expected Gabi to say, but it wasn’t that. He sits there awkwardly, sandwich still half-finished in his hands. After a moment, he asks, “Er, what is it?” 

Gabi pops the last bit of her sandwich in her mouth and wipes her fingers on her jeans. After she chews and swallows, she leans towards Falco once more and gives him an impish grin. “I can read people’s minds. Telepathy,” she tells him. She doesn’t wait for him to ask for a demonstration. 

Gabi puts one hand on Falco’s chest and stares deeply into his eyes. Falco’s heart is beating wildly in his chest. If by some miracle Gabi doesn’t hear it, Falco’s certain that she’ll be able to feel it underneath her fingertips. She doesn’t say anything about it, though, just continues to stare at him with those intense brown eyes of hers as she reads every single thought racing through his mind right now, like how he’s never been quite this close to anyone, how he’s never had his heart beat quite this fast, or how he thinks he might just die right here right now before the asteroid even hits. 

Suddenly, Gabi’s face breaks into a smile and she pulls her hand away, Falco’s chest feeling achingly empty now. Gabi is laughing now, but Falco doesn’t have any idea why. 

“God, I didn’t think you’d believe me,” she laughs. She’s laughing so hard that it’s difficult to make out what she’s saying. “I didn’t think you’d believe me, but you really did. You’re really gullible, aren’t you?” 

Falco blinks, confused for a minute as he tries to process what just happened. “You … can’t read minds?” he says a beat too late. 

“No, god, but you thought I did,” Gabi laughs. 

“Then what’s your power?” 

Gabi’s still giggling as she answers. “Something else. It’s not important. I’ll tell you if it ends up being useful.” 

She’s laughing. She’s still laughing. It’s a laugh that comes from her stomach and has her clutching her sides. People are glaring because it’s disrupting the peace, and Falco feels like he should tell her to stop but he finds that he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t even mind that she’s laughing at him. He just likes the sound of it. 

»»————- April 5, 2026 ————-««

They sit with a pack of chocolate-covered biscuits shaped like little bamboo shoots between them. While Falco eats them one at a time, usually popping one in his mouth after he’s read a few pages of whatever book he’s reading, Gabi shovels them into her mouth by the handful without even looking. They’ve gone through their fifth pack of the little chocolate biscuits and it’s not even noon yet. 

“Do you think you can do it?” Falco asks at some point. 

“Save the world?” Gabi asks. She sucks her thumb, trying to get the chocolate off. Falco nods and Gabi says, “Well, who else if not me?” 

“Literally anyone else,” Falco replies because, well, they’re only kids. 

“Right, and just die young, dumb, and stupid like every other kid our age,” Gabi says with a roll of her eyes. “No thanks. I’d rather have died trying to do something. Besides, it’s not as if the adults are having that much luck either.” 

Gabi slides her laptop over so that Falco can see the screen. On it, a video plays of a rocket shooting into space. The caption on the bottom reads “NASA Space Missile Failure.” Falco vaguely recalls hearing about the missile launch earlier this morning. The scientists were excited about it, hoping that the missile would collide with the oncoming asteroid and shatter it into smaller pieces that would burn up in the atmosphere, but it seems like they had been excited for nothing. Apparently, they had miscalculated the trajectory of the missile and it would miss the asteroid completely. 

“That sucks,” Falco says finally. He’s not exactly sure how he feels about the news. He should probably feel disappointed, but he feels the same way he did a month ago when he heard the world was ending: perfectly indifferent. 

Gabi shrugs. “Armin said it wouldn’t work. He said their calculations were off,” she says. She glances at Falco and adds, “Armin’s a genius. He’s my mentor’s husband.” 

“A genius? Is that his superpower?” Falco asks. If Gabi knows someone who’s a literal genius, he doesn’t see why they’re doing all this work. Shouldn’t this genius, whoever he is, have all the answers? 

Gabi thinks for a minute, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m not sure. My mentor just says Armin’s a genius, but he’s way too humble to admit it,” Gabi finally answers. She frowns, leaning forward with her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. “He can’t help us though. He’s busy tending to his fish.” 

Falco isn’t certain he’s heard her right. “His fish?” he repeats. 

“Yeah. He’s a marine biologist. He likes to have some fish at home,” Gabi explains like it’s the most normal thing in the world to take care of your fish when the world is about to end. “He says it calms him down to see them swim around.” 

Falco is still trying to wrap his head around all of this — Gabi and her willingness to save the world, the genius she just spoke of who just wants to take care of his fish, and the asteroid hurtling towards the earth. He doesn’t understand any of it. “So it’s okay for you, a kid, to try and save the world while a literal genius is taking care of fish at his house instead of trying to prevent the apocalypse?” 

Gabi blinks. “Yes,” she replies as if there could be no other answer. “Because it’s what I want to do. And it’s what he wants to do. Why should we be doing anything different?” 

“But shouldn’t you be doing, I don’t know, kid things?” Falco asks. He’s starting to feel a little frustrated talking to her. This isn’t what she should be doing at all. This isn’t what they should be doing. They should be enjoying the last few days they have together. They should be playing games at the arcade, or wandering around the empty mall, or eating snacks at the park, not … whatever this is. 

“Maybe. Probably. But I don’t want to,” Gabi says. She turns the laptop back and starts typing away. “I don’t like the idea of doing something just because the world is ending. I’ve always done what I wanted, so I don’t have any regrets. This is the only thing I want to do now.” 

It’s more than Falco can say. Like Gabi, he doesn’t have anything he wants to do, but then he’s never really ever wanted to do anything. All his life he’s been floating from place to place and participating in whatever was expected of kids his age: attending school, joining a sports team, learning an instrument. He didn’t care about any of it. He doesn’t have any regrets about it, but he does feel a sudden wave of admiration for Gabi. She’s saving the world now because she feels like it, but she could just as easily leave this task for another if something else strikes her fancy. Falco wants to know what it feels like to pursue something so impulsively. 

He wants to want things. He wants to be with Gabi. He wants to help her save the world. 

“Is there something you want to do before the world ends?” Gabi asks. She’s just asking to be polite. Her eyes are already glued to the screen of her laptop, her face turned away from him. “You don’t seem to be as into the whole ‘save the world’ thing as I am.” 

Falco shrugs even though she’s not watching. “I don’t mind it.” Falco could leave it at that. He doesn’t have to say anything else, but he does. “There isn’t really else I want to do anyway,” he tells her, but it’s a lie.

He wants to hold her hand. 

»»————- April 6, 2026 ————-««

Falco has never looked forward to anything as much as the researching sessions he has with Gabi. He’s never really looked forward to anything before, actually, and he’s not sure why being surrounded by books and looking at (mostly) fake superhero videos with Gabi appeals to him so much. 

He likes a lot of things about the way Gabi works. She’s quiet and focused, eyebrows knitted as she decides whether or not to call another applicant that probably won’t pick up. She never gets discouraged even though things don’t look promising. They’ve probably called dozens of people and only a third have actually responded. Most of them turned out to be trolls, which isn’t surprising considering they were taking submissions from strangers on the internet, but Gabi still carries on. Maybe it’s Gabi’s passion and stubbornness that has drawn Falco to her, but it feels like it’s more than that too. 

He feels, in a way, like Gabi completes him. Before he met her, he was wandering aimlessly. Now he doesn’t know what he’d do without her. Staying at home and studying seems unbearable when the option of being with Gabi exists. 

Falco isn’t sure how Gabi feels about him. He doesn’t even know if she has any feelings towards him — if she likes him, hates him, or just feels completely indifferent. At any rate, she doesn’t seem to mind spending her last few days on earth with him, and that makes him feel a little better about the world ending. Occasionally, he thinks about how Gabi probably wouldn’t notice if he stopped coming to help her. Well, she might notice, but Falco doesn’t think Gabi would change her routine. She’d just continue saving the world with or without his help. 

“Don’t you think it’s weird?” Falco asks at one point. Gabi looks at him with a raised eyebrow and he elaborates “We hardly know each other and we’re just here … saving the world together.” 

Gabi frowns, a thoughtful look on her face. “I don’t think it’s weird,” she says to Falco, and he feels his heart flutter in his chest. “A lot of weird stuff has happened because it’s the end of the world and we just happened to meet each other. If a total weirdo had showed up instead of you, then maybe I would be saving the world with them and we never would have met.” She doesn’t seem to mind the thought of working with a total weirdo in place of Falco. 

Falco slumps in his seat, deflated, but Gabi doesn’t seem to notice. 

“I’m glad it was you though,” Gabi continues. 

Falco lifts his head. “Really?” He scoots closer in his seat, curious. “Why?” 

Gabi twirls her pen between her fingers, looking upward as she thinks. After a moment, she shrugs. “I don’t know,” she answers. “It just feels better knowing I’m working with someone. It’s better than working alone, I guess. I might feel the same way even if it were someone else, but I also might not. Still, I’m glad it’s you.” 

It doesn’t really mean anything. Like she said, it could have been some other kid who ended up answering Gabi’s post and helping her with her impossible quest to save the world. It could have been some other person sitting with her and looking up useless articles on asteroids and meteorites. It could have been someone else having this conversation with her. But, Falco reminds himself, it wasn’t. It’s him sitting beside her, eating snacks and discussing the end of the world. It probably isn’t fate that they met, but it kind of feels like it is. 

»»————- April 7, 2026 ————-««

Tired of the same snacks from his pantry, Falco decides to try the café on the first-floor of the library for some new things to eat. He had asked Gabi what she wanted and she told him to just get her anything. 

The first floor café is relatively well-stocked for the end of the world, but maybe it’s because bookworms prefer literature to satiate their appetites rather than food. 

The display case, usually filled with dessert sandwiches with slices of strawberries and kiwi and slathered with whipped cream, is cleaned out, but the shelves behind the cash register are still stocked with different kinds of chips and candies. Falco scans the shelves, looking for his favorites: baked potato chips covered in rich butter, little rice crackers flavored with soy sauce and red pepper flakes, and chocolate cookies in the shape of tiny hamburgers. 

Falco stares, for the longest time, at the other snacks and wonders what Gabi would like, if she has a preference for anything. Maybe he should have paid more attention when they were eating together to see if she ever seemed to gravitate to certain foods he brought or commented on any of the snacks they ate together, but he can’t recall anything. He feels stupid for not noticing, but he also doesn’t want to keep Gabi waiting and ends up grabbing whatever grabs his attention. 

He arrives at their designated research table, huffing from the flights of stairs he had to climb. Falco deposits the snacks rather ungracefully in front of Gabi, letting them fall out of his hands and onto the table. Gabi looks up from the noise, her eyebrows raised, but she smiles when she sees that it’s him and Falco’s heart flutters almost painfully in his chest. 

“These are yours,” Falco says, shoving Gabi’s share of the snacks towards her. 

“Thanks.” Gabi picks up a snack with a gray cartoon cat on the wrapper. It’s a puffed corn stick. Pizza-flavored, the wrapper says. She opens it with a grin. “How did you know these were my favorite?” she asks. 

“I … I don’t know,” Falco says. “Must have been a lucky guess.” 

But it doesn’t feel like it. 

It feels like he knew, from the beginning, what she had wanted. It’s like he had let his instincts take over when he had randomly chosen snacks for Gabi and somehow selected her favorite ones. It was as easy as picking food for someone he had known for his whole life, which is impossible because he hadn’t even known Gabi a week ago. Maybe, then, he had known Gabi in a past life and that’s how he happened to pick her favorites. Or maybe they really are fated to be together and knowing things like her favorite food are just second nature to him. The latter two explanations are almost impossible and yet so much more likely than the first explanation. He doesn’t know how to explain it though, not without seeming crazy, so he doesn’t say anything. 

»»————- April 8, 2026 ————-««

Tomorrow is the end of the world and they are no closer to saving everyone from the asteroid hurtling towards the earth than they were yesterday. In fact, they are no closer to saving the world than they were a week ago when this effort began or even a month ago when they had first found out the world was going to be destroyed. Their attempt to prevent the world’s end was futile and their effort today will probably be equally useless. Still, here they are on the tenth floor of the library doing the same thing they did yesterday. 

The sun is about to set and it’s almost time for them to head home. Falco wonders if they’ll be here tomorrow spending their last moments at the library when the world ends or if Gabi will call it quits and suggest they spend their last day without each other. He’s too afraid to ask. 

They pack up silently, Gabi slipping her notebooks and laptop into her bag as Falco arranges the books into neat stacks on the slim chance that they’ll return tomorrow. Falco notices that Gabi packs the same way she always does — quickly, dumping everything into her backpack as if she doesn’t care if they get damaged — and it stings a little bit that she doesn’t pack a little slower this time like he does just so that he can spend a few seconds more with her. Maybe he shouldn’t be so disappointed because it’s obvious she doesn’t care for him more than she would care for a coworker or a classmate she was randomly paired with to complete an assignment. 

Falco is silently pining when Gabi speaks, startling him. 

“So, the world ends tomorrow,” she says easily. It’s like she’s talking about the weather. “Are you satisfied with how you spent your last days? No regrets?” 

They’re two questions that seem related, but Falco’s answers for them are very different. 

He is satisfied with how he spent his last days. The past week perhaps isn’t as spectacular by other people’s standards. Falco didn’t go bungee jumping or skydiving or deepsea divings like some of his peers. Some people would argue that the way he spent his last few days was as boring as the way he spent the past month, although Falco would argue that it was infinitely better because he had Gabi. He’s convinced that however he chose to spend his last days, as long as they were with Gabi, he would be happy. He could even watch the grass grow with Gabi and he’d be completely content. So, yes, he’s completely satisfied with how he spent his last few days, but he has many regrets. 

He regrets not meeting Gabi earlier. He regrets not being able to spend more than a week with her. He regrets not doing things with her that kids their age should be doing: playing soccer in the field, catching butterflies by the river and letting them go, and hanging out at the arcade and beating their high scores. But most of all, he regrets feeling this way about Gabi and not being able to tell her. 

Falco doesn’t answer her question. Instead, he asks, “Do you?” 

“No,” Gabi replies with a smile and it makes Falco feel a little better about the ache in his chest. 

»»————- April 9, 2026 ————-««

Falco doesn’t expect Gabi to call him the next day. Before bidding each other goodbye yesterday, Gabi suggested they not see each other again. 

“You should spend the day with your family or something,” Gabi said to him. “Your parents probably want to spend their last day with their kids. I’ll just do this by myself. And, you know, thanks for everything.” 

He had wanted to tell her that it was fine if they spent their last day together. He spent his whole life with his parents. He should at least spend one more day with Gabi if this is his last one, but he bit his tongue and said goodbye to her with the fakest smile before turning on his heel and walking as quickly as he could to where his mom would pick him up.

Falco was lying on his bed staring at the ceiling when Gabi called and told him to meet him at the bottom of the hill near the outskirts of his town. She said her mentor was coming back today and that they could visit her to see if there was still a possibility of saving the world. Falco didn’t even question her or ask if they really have any hope after their days of research lead to nothing. He just leapt out of bed, told his parents he would be out and that he loved them, and biked up to the hills where Gabi asked to meet him. 

When he gets there, Gabi is already waiting for him, bundled in a navy peacoat and a gray scarf tied loosely around her neck. Her face breaks out in a grin when she sees him and she waves a gloved hand to greet him. 

“How did you get here so fast?” Falco huffs once he finally reaches her. The hill gets too steep for him to bike, so he gets off his bicycle and walks with Gabi beside him. 

“My uncle Reiner drove me here,” Gabi replies, shoving her hands in her pockets. She rolls her eyes, but her mouth twitches with a smile. “He says he wanted to spend a little more time with his favorite niece before she becomes famous for saving the world.” 

“You really think we’re gonna do it?” Falco asks. 

Gabi shrugs. “I think if my mentor thinks so, we probably have a good chance.” 

They arrive at the mentor’s house at the top of the hill. It’s small, more like a tiny cabin than an actual house. When Gabi knocks, they’re greeted by a blond man with big blue eyes. The man smiles when he sees Gabi, pushing his tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

“Hello, Gabi. I guess Mikasa told you she’d be coming back today,” the man says. He looks over Falco. “Hello. You must be Gabi’s friend Falco. I’m Armin.” The man offers a hand for Falco to shake. 

Falco nods, wondering why the man’s name sounds so familiar. It’s only when he’s shaken the man’s hand that he remembers Gabi had mentioned Armin a few days ago when they were researching in the library. He’s the genius that likes to spend his days taking care of fish. 

Falco follows Gabi when the man invites them into the cabin. Falco’s a little taken aback at how simple the interior is. The living room is small and the kitchen is smaller with only the essentials. There isn’t even a microwave. 

“Sit down,” Armin says, gesturing at the dining table in the middle of the room. He heads towards the kitchen cabinets where he takes out three mugs. “I’ll make tea for us while we wait for Mikasa.” 

“Can we see your fish later, Armin?” Gabi asks. She’s already settled down in a chair, kicking her legs back and forth. It’s clear that she feels at home here. When she notices that Falco hasn’t taken a seat yet, she gestures for him to sit down at the seat closest to her. To Armin, she continues, “I was telling Falco about you and he was curious about what a genius would be up to at the end of the world if he wasn’t trying to prevent the apocalypse.” 

Armin chuckles. “Do you like fish, Falco?” he asks. He smiles when Falco makes a surprised noise, an answer stuck in his throat. “Sure, we can take a look a little later.” 

Over apple tarts and tea, Gabi and Armin fill Falco in on Mikasa. She’s Armin’s wife, Gabi’s mentor, and the key to saving the world. Mikasa has a superpower, Gabi explains, that allows her to identify other people with superpowers and what those powers are. She helps people utilize their powers, but she took off for a month when the end of the world was announced to gather people with powers that might prevent the asteroid from crashing into the earth. 

“Did Mikasa tell you if she met any promising people?” Gabi asks. She’s licked her plate clean and cinnamon sticks to her lips. 

Armin shakes his head, a resigned smile on his face. “Unfortunately, no. She said all the candidates she met didn’t have any sort of useful power, but who knows? Maybe she’ll meet someone on the way here that can stop the meteor.” 

“Ah, it’s a meteor now?” Falco asks, sitting up in his seat. 

“It’s been one for a while,” Armin says. He glances out the window for a second. It’s not blue like it was when Falco woke up this morning. It’s orange now., not like a sunrise but more like someone has set the sky on fire. “We should be able to see it soon. The estimated time of impact is soon if I recall correctly. Hopefully, we get to see Mikasa soon.” His eyebrows are knitted together in concern, but Gabi looks just as unbothered as ever. 

“I’m sure she’ll be back soon,” Gabi says. She collects her empty plate as well as Falco and Armin’s before depositing them in the sink. It’s an awfully normal thing to do considering the fact that the dirty dishes won’t matter when the earth is destroyed. She lets them soak in the sink and then turns to Armin. “Can we go see your fish now? Falco hasn’t seen them yet.” 

“Sure,” Armin says with a smile. He gets up from the table and gestures for Falco to follow him. “Let’s go see the fish.” 

Armin leads the children to a side room. Inside is a large glass fish tank with so many plants, shells, and rocks that Falco doesn’t see the fish at first. He and Gabi crouch beside the tank, their faces not quite touching the glass. Falco can see neon fish the size of his pinky darting back and forth between plants. He spots a miniature catfish the size of his thumb hiding behind a rock while a school of ten or so black and white striped fish zips around the 50-gallon tank. There are many more fish that Falco spots, lots of which he doesn’t know the name of but Armin patiently points them all out and tells Falco both the scientific and the common names of each fish and their habits. It’s clear that he loves it, taking care of the fish and looking after them, and Falco thinks he understands a little bit why Armin has chosen to spend the rest of the world like this. Occasionally, Gabi pipes in with whatever she remembers about each fish, usually their behavioral patterns she’s noticed when she’s visited, and Armin always grins whenever she speaks. 

The three don’t notice when Mikasa arrives. They’re too busy staring at the fish swimming back and forth in the tank without a care in the world. The fish can’t grasp the fact that the world is ending. After all, their world only consists of the four glass walls that encase them and anything outside doesn’t concern them. It’s only when the door to the room opens and Mikasa steps in that the three realize that she’s returned. The fish, however, just keep swimming. 

“That’s a nice way to spend the end of the world,” Mikasa comments. She has a tired smile on her face. She wears a soft cream-colored turtleneck, a long black coat hanging over her arm. “I see Gabi has joined us. As has her friend.” The woman nods at Falco. 

“H-hello,” Falco stammers. He’s not sure what he was expecting Mikasa to look like. Perhaps like a woman with all the answers, someone who looked like she had seen the world, but she doesn’t. She just looks like any other woman, maybe a little more tired than other women, but still just a normal person. She doesn’t look like she has an amazing superpower, but then again neither does Gabi nor any of the potential candidates that claimed to have powers. “I’m Falco.” 

“Ah, yes,” Mikasa says with a nod. “Gabi mentioned you before. I’m Mikasa, her mentor.” She drapes her coat over a nearby chair and walks over to join the three of them beside the fish tank. 

“Did you find anyone?” Gabi asks. She looks out towards the living room, craning her neck to see if Mikasa had brought someone they didn’t notice. 

“No, nobody that could save the world, if that’s what you’re asking,” Mikasa sighs, shoulder slumped. “Although, I did run into a guy who was convinced that the only way to save the world was to destroy it. I got away from him as quickly as possible.” 

“Probably a smart decision,” Armin says with a nod, and Mikasa smiles in reply. 

“Well, shall we go watch the end of the world together?” Mikasa asks, putting an arm around Gabi. She looks around at the others. “I heard it was going to be quite spectacular. Like a meteor show in the middle of the day.” Her eyes settle on Falco and her smile begins to falter. Her brows knit together and she opens her mouth as if she’s about to say something. 

Armin notices the change in her demeanor and looks back and forth between Falco and Mikasa. “What’s wrong? Are you …?” It seems like something clicks in his head and he quickly turns to Falco. With a hand on the boy’s shoulder, Armin asks quickly, “Falco, do you have a power you haven’t told us about?” 

The question startles Falco and he jerks away from Armin’s hand in surprise. “I … I don’t know,” he says, stumbling over his words. He’s never felt like he had any kind of superpower. He’s never shown any sign of being special. He’s always just been … normal. 

“You … do you not know?” Mikasa asks, her eyebrows raised. She looks at Gabi. “Falco can save the world.” 

It’s too much for Falco to take in when the world is about to end so soon. He has too many questions like: What power is he supposed to have? How come he didn’t know about it before? Is there still time to save everyone or is it too late? He opens his mouth to ask, not knowing which one will come out of his mouth first, when he feels a comforting hand on his elbow. Falco looks over to see Gabi standing beside him, somehow calm despite this revelation. 

“What’s his power, Mikasa?” 

“He can travel back in time,” Mikasa says, still staring at Falco with her intense gaze. “Under the event of an unexpected death like, say, getting hit by an asteroid, he can go back in time and prevent it from happening. But only if he remembers that it will happen in the first place.” Her eyes flicker towards Gabi for some reason. 

“What … what does that mean ‘only if I remember’?” Falco asks Gabi. 

Gabi’s biting down on her lip, expression contemplative. Finally, she tells Falco, “My power is that I’m unforgettable. If you reset your time after the meteor hits, usually you won't remember what happened, but you will if I use my power. You’d be able to remember me and everything we’ve done together. If you go back in time, maybe you can find a way to save the world because you’ll know what to expect.” 

“Then … then that’s good news!” He doesn’t know why everyone around him isn’t jumping up and down in excitement right now. They’ve found a way to save the world. If not this time, then the next time or the time after that. “Isn’t this good news?” 

“I mean, it is,” Gabi says. She doesn’t sound as confident as she usually does. Instead, she’s hesitant, almost shy. Falco doesn’t think he’s ever seen Gabi shy before. She’s looking at the floor now, kicking at the hardwood floor with her sock-clad feet. “It’s just that … I have to make you fall in love with me to make you remember me.” 

Falco’s mouth falls open and no words come out. 

“It’s not like it’s hard,” Gabi says almost hurriedly, more because she’s embarrassed than in a rush to save the world. She’s shed off her embarrassment and assumed her usual confident demeanor. “I’m very lovable, you know. It’s just …” Her voice trails off again. 

“She has to seal it with a kiss,” Mikasa finishes, and Falco can see why Gabi was so embarrassed. His cheeks redden just from the thought of kissing Gabi. Mikasa adds rather apologetically, “It’s just the way it works, her power. She needs to kiss you.” 

“Only if you’re okay with it, of course,” Gabi adds. She’s still avoiding his gaze, her eyes on the floor. “I’m fine if you’d rather not. You might just be stuck in the loop all by yourself. It’d be a little less painful since you won’t remember each time but still -” 

“I’m okay with it,” Falco says. 

Gabi looks up, surprised. “You are?” 

“Yeah,” Falco says. “I’m … I’m fine with it. Let’s save the world. Together. That’s what our entire plan was, right?” 

“Yeah. Yeah,” Gabi repeats and she smiles. It’s different from how she’s smiled at him before. It’s a little bit bashful, a little bit excited. It looks nice on her, Falco thinks, and he’s so distracted that he’s surprised when he realizes she’s holding his hand. 

Mikasa tugs at the elbow of Armin’s cardigan and the blond man nods. Taking Mikasa’s hand, he turns to the kids and says, “We’ll be out there just to give you two some privacy. Hopefully, we’ll see each other again soon.” 

The door shuts softly behind the two adults. Falco doesn’t know if they wait in the living room or if they’ve gone outside to admire the sky. From the window, Falco can see that the sky has changed from a burnt orange to an explosion of different colors: shades of violet, pink, blue, and yellow all together almost like a watercolor painting. There are streaks of white in the sky. It’s like a meteor shower in the middle of the day just as Mikasa had said. 

When he turns to Gabi, she’s looking at him with her hand still holding his. She’s chewing on the inside of her cheek, but she smiles when she sees he’s looking at her. 

“Are you still up for it?” Gabi asks. 

“Y-yeah,” Falco says, his voice cracking. He feels his face flush, but he likes the sound of Gabi’s giggle even if he’s the one she’s laughing at. He licks his lips nervously and leans in just the tiniest bit. “Is … is it okay if I kiss you?” 

Gabi bites her lip and nods. She leans in too and Falco takes it as his cue to close his eyes and close the gap. 

He doesn’t know what to expect from this kiss. Maybe warm lips pressing against his while his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. Maybe Gabi’s hands gripping his arms while his hands hover awkwardly around his waist. Maybe the world ending and, when his eyes open, Falco waking to thoughts of Gabi and how to find her next. But none of this happens. Instead, Gabi puts her hands on his shoulder and pushes him gently but firmly away. 

“I can’t do it,” Gabi says. 

“Wha-?” 

“I can’t do it,” Gabi repeats with a shake of her head. She looks upset, but Falco doesn’t know why. He wonders what it is he did to offend her. Maybe she doesn’t want to kiss him. Maybe she finds him repulsive and doesn’t want to kiss him even if it means saving the world. Falco thinks this would be the case if Gabi didn’t look so apologetic. “I can’t kiss you. Not like this.” 

“What do you mean?” Falco asks, panicked. He takes a glance at the window. Outside, the meteors in the sky look brighter. It’s like a million stars are falling to the earth. It’s only a matter of time before the world ends. He doesn’t know why Gabi is doing this. 

“I don’t want to kiss you just to save the world and I don’t want you to kiss me for the same reason,” Gabi says, taking a step away from him. She shakes her head, tears pricking her eyes. “I want you to kiss me because you like me, not because you have some responsibility to save the earth so … so find me again and kiss me. Find me again and tell me you like me and kiss me hard. And then … and then we can save the world.” 

But he wants to kiss her now. He wants to kiss her because he likes her. He wants to kiss her because the world is ending. He wants to kiss her even if the world isn’t ending. He wants to tell her that, but he doesn’t have the words. 

Ever since Mikasa had revealed Falco’s power, everything has suddenly made sense to him. Falco understands now why his life felt so empty before he met Gabi and why he never felt the desire to do anything. He knows why he was so drawn to her when they first met that day in the city and why he felt like she completed him. It’s because they were meant to meet each other, meant to be together, meant to save the world. 

Falco wants to kiss her so badly. He wants to hold Gabi’s face in his hands and put his lips on hers and kiss her until the world ends and when he wakes up again he’ll find her and kiss her again and again and again. He wants to tell her he likes her now and that he’ll like her again. He wants to tell her that he’d like her even if the world weren’t about to end, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t get to tell her anything. 

A bright light flashes from the window. All Falco sees is Gabi and then white, and then nothing. 

»»————- March 9, 2026 ————-««

Falco wakes up and rolls out of bed. He brushes his teeth in the bathroom and brushes out his hair before blearily heading down the stairs where his mom is making breakfast. His father hasn’t left for work yet, he notices, which is rather strange. His mother hasn’t finished making breakfast yet and his brother isn’t dressed for school. He stares at them, wondering why they’re acting so odd. It takes them a moment to realize he’s there. 

“The world is ending next month,” his mother tells him. She points at the TV screen that Falco’s father is staring at. On it flashes a picture of an asteroid hurtling towards the earth. The little banner underneath the picture says it’s far too big to burn up in the atmosphere. Scientists have no hope of human survival. 

“If I knew, I would have slept in,” Colt mumbles. 

His family looks shocked by the news, but Falco doesn’t feel anything. He grabs a banana from the fruit bowl in the kitchen and starts to head out the door. 

“Wait, where are you going?” Colt asks him. 

Falco pauses by the door. “I don’t know,” he says after a moment. He’s not sure what to do now that the world is ending. There isn’t anything in particular that he wants to do. “I’ll go to school, I guess.” 

He leaves after assuring his parents that it’s fine, that he really doesn’t mind going to school because he isn’t sure what else to do. He stops by his mailbox and looks up at the sky. It’s clear and blue, no asteroid in sight. 

He takes a deep breath and then releases it. It sounds like a sigh. 

[five-rivers]

Long Night in the Valley chapter 5

Toshinori found himself thinking about his brief and extremely ill-advised time as a quirkless vigilante.  He had a sinking suspicion that it because of his uninvited mental guests, but he couldn’t exactly do anything about that.  Between the two of them, Izuku had always been better at the mental portion of their quirk.  

He finished washing the bleach out of Izuku’s hair and couldn’t help but wonder if Izuku had ever contemplated going down that path. It had been cruel, and knowing what he did now, he would never repeat it, but his speech to Izuku on that rooftop had been intended to keep him from making the same mistakes Toshinori had in his youth.  

If Nana hadn’t picked him up…  he shuddered to think what would have become of him.  He’d certainly been in over his head, hitting far above his weight class.  

Although, to be honest, they weren’t in a good position right now, either.  

“I’m sorry,” said Izuku, softly.  

“It isn’t your fault,” said Toshinori.  

“But I couldn’t make him leave.  And now he’s going after your secrets.”

“My boy, they sent a highly skilled infiltrator into your mind.”  Toshinori was not entirely sure how he knew this, but it felt correct.  “You don’t have the training to combat that.  What you have done is remarkable.”  He toweled off Izuku’s hair.  The damp and the product had conspired to make it less fluffy than usual.  “The last you told me, you couldn’t even manifest fully in that place.”

“I tried to distract them,” said Izuku, miserably. “It didn’t work.  It—He’s still there.”

“It’s alright, it’s alright,” said Toshinori.  “Other than One for All, I don’t have any secrets worth all these tears.”  It might be annoying if they found out about all the illegal stuff he’d done over the years, but most of it would be nigh-impossible to prove.  “Let’s get you into that suit.”

“Right,” said Izuku, peeling out of his clothes.  “Why a suit, though?”

“It’s something you’d never choose to wear and relatively anonymous,” said Toshinori.  He started to put on his own coat, checking that all the hidden pouches were filled. To stay true to his disguise, Izuku was only carrying a messenger bag, and they would need the supplies.  

“How do I look?” asked Izuku.  The first thing Toshinori noticed was that he hadn’t bothered with the tie, but Toshinori had planned to take care of that from the beginning.  

The second thing—

Toshinori did not blanch.  

Of course, that’s what he looks like, whispered seven or so voices.  Knew from the beginning.  Have to read the DNA to rewrite it.  Can’t give this to just anyone.

Yes.  Of course.

“You look wonderful,” said Toshinori, reaching for the tie.  “And also unrecognizable.”

“Well, that’s the point, right?” asked Izuku, running a hand through his hair.  “So… How are we going to do this?”

Toshinori made a face.  He wasn’t terribly good at this part.  There was a reason he’d relied so heavily on Sir Nighteye once upon a time.

“I… could come up with a plan,” proposed Izuku.  “Tell me how Trace’s quirk works.”

.

The fight reached the other side of the tunnel, and spilled out into bright, yellow sunlight.  Midoriya had been fighting Iida up until a moment ago, but upon exiting the tunnel he had run off.  After stabbing Suzuki in the eye with a pencil.  

Meanwhile, All Might, Teenage Menace special edition, was holding his own against them.  

One thing Aizawa didn’t understand, though, was why All Might wasn’t using his quirk.  

Thankfully, after leaving the tunnel, the boy began to falter, and then ran off after Midoriya.  Aizawa wasn’t interested in pursuing either of them.  Were there questions he wanted answered?  Yes.  Did he want them answered at the cost of invading his student’s privacy and breaking his trust?  No.  

In the meantime, he did have to see if the idiot needed medical care.  That was, unfortunately, part of his job.  

“Want help with that?” he asked.  

“No,” said Suzuki, pulling the pencil out.  In less than a second, his eye was fine.  “That hurt,” he complained.  

A small part of Aizawa mourned the fact that breaking Suzuki’s legs would not be enough to stop him.  A small, but very present part.  He pushed it away.  Thinking on might-have-beens was illogical.  

“Sensei!” called Uraraka.  “I think we’re in America.  All the signs are in English!”  She pointed.

The signs were, in fact, in English.  Considering how much time All Might had spent in America, it wasn’t terribly surprising that Midoriya would construct such a place for him in his mind.  

… Although, he had to wonder why Midoriya’s mind had a teenage vigilante All Might running around in it.  Because if he were Midoriya in this situation, and he could pick any All Might, he’d pick top-of-his-game natural disaster All Might, so, this had to be an All Might that Midoriya just.  Had.  For some reason.  

“This proves it,” said Todoroki.

“Proves what?” asked Aizawa.  

“That Midoriya is All Might’s secret love child.”

Iida sighed, heavily, leaving off prodding his formerly impaled shoulder.  

“Think about it!” said Todoroki, as emotive as Aizawa had ever seen him.  “Who else would All Might tell about his dark past?”

Regrettably, he had a point.  

“Add that to the quirk, and the smile, and how they meet up for lunch at least once a week—”

“That is literally the dumbest thing I have ever heard,” said Suzuki.  “All Might is a natural-born hero.  A pillar of society!”

“Yes?” said Todoroki, squinting at Suzuki as if daring him to say something that made sense.  

“He isn’t going to have a secret love child.”

Regrettably, he also had a point.  

“Much less one like Midoriya Izuku.”

Okay, the point was gone.  

“In any case, black tentacles are not at all like All Might’s general enhancer.”

“It is like his mother’s, though,” said Todoroki, “and even though I keep saying ‘secret love child,’ my current theory is that Midoriya-san and All Might are, in fact, married, but they had to do it secretly, so that All Might’s enemies wouldn’t find them.”  

“Todoroki, please, you can’t just spread baseless rumors like that about your classmates!” said Iida, chopping at the air.  “Much less your classmate’s families!”

Todoroki looked hurt.  “But I have evidence!”

Aizawa should probably put a stop to this, but he kind of wanted to see where it was going, and there was no way this was true.  At all.  

If Midoriya was All Might’s kid, he would never shut up about it.  All Might, that was.  Midoriya was, evidently, capable of keeping secrets.  

(On the other hand, Aizawa didn’t have a better theory for their obvious close bond.)

“What evidence?” asked Iida, clearly intrigued despite himself.

“Midoriya-san is amazing.”  Todoroki’s eyes sparkled like he was in a manga.  

Aizawa sighed, he should have known the ‘evidence’ would—

Wait.  

“Where’s Uraraka?”

.

Uraraka really should have been paying more attention. Especially after all the situational awareness classes Aizawa-sensei had given them.  

Izuku didn’t blame her.  This was a distracting situation, and he rather suspected being asleep and ‘dreaming’ was affecting their judgement.  

Still.  It was almost too easy to pull her to the side and through a door into another part of the dreamscape.  

But after that, she shook off his grip and readied a fighting stance.  

“I don’t want to fight,” he whispered, making a quelling motion.

Uraraka looked like she wanted to believe him but frowned. “Sorry, but I kind of find that hard to believe after you stabbed Iida.  I mean, I know you’re under the effects of a quirk and all, but you’re still under the effects of a quirk.”  Despite her words, she matched his volume.  

“I know, I know,” said Izuku.  “It looks bad, but…”  He wrung his fingers together and adjusted the sleeves of his uniform.  “There’s something you guys need to know about what’s going on, and you were easiest to grab.  Can I explain?  I’m not going to fight you guys anymore.  Not like- Not like I was.”

Uraraka sighed and relaxed her shoulders, just slightly. “Alright, Deku, I—” she faltered. “Midoriya.”

“You can still call me Deku,” said Izuku.  “I mean, it is my hero name.”

“Yes, but… they used it to hurt you, didn’t they?”

Izuku shrugged.  This wasn’t the conversation he wanted to be having.  “If—I guess, if you want, you can call me Izuku.  It would feel weird for you to go to calling me Midoriya.”

Uraraka blinked.  “Are you sure?”

“Yes?”

“Then you have to call me Ochako!”

Izuku blushed.  “Okay,” he said, in a tiny voice.  He coughed.  “So. Um.  Imagine, imagine you’re in a room.”  He gestured at the facsimile of the American diner.  “You’re standing in the middle.”

Ura—Ochako nodded.  “Sure,” she said.  

“Right.  So, you can’t see all the walls at once, no matter how you turn.  Unless, like, you have some kind of vision-related quirk, or a quirk like Shoji’s I guess.”  Izuku shook his head, putting aside that train of thought for the moment.  “Does that make sense, so far?”

“Yes,” said Ochako, “but I don’t see what it has to do with… this.”  She spread her hands in front of her.  

“Well, um.  It’s what was going on back there,” he gestured vaguely towards where they’d come from.  “From the beach until the tunnel.  You were in my head.  Kind of… inside my personality, I guess?  So, you couldn’t see the whole thing at once.  Just the walls from the inside.  Each, um, each one of me?  Each one of me was like a different wall.  You couldn’t see the whole shape.  They were incomplete.”

“Okay,” said Ochako.  “But that should still be what’s happening, then, right?  We’re still in your head.”

“Yeah, that’s why I needed to talk to you.  You aren’t.  You’re…  This me, the me you’re talking to, right now, I’m complete, because you’re seeing me from outside, now.  Well, mostly complete.  Like, you can’t see the other side of the room from the outside…  Oh, no, All Might is right, I’m terrible at metaphors.”  He buried his face in his hands.  

“It’s fine,” said Ochako.  “But, um.  You’re saying we’re in someone else’s head?”

“Sort of.  Just… not my dreamscape.  Mindscape? It’s-It’s complicated.”  He lifted his head.  

“D—Izuku-kun, is this All Might’s mind?”

It was going to be pretty obvious once everyone woke up, so Izuku nodded.

“Why?” asked Ochako.  “How?”

“I can’t explain everything right now.  It’s too much, and I don’t know if the commission has someone listening with a telepathy quirk from the outside.  I know they’re not using it on me, because I’m awake, but—”

“What?  You’re awake?”

“Sort of, sort of.  It’s a side effect of what’s going on here.  I woke up when Suzuki-san shot me.  And I’m sort of on the run.  It’s really, really, not something I can give details about, though, because, you know. Listening.”

Ochako took a deep breath.  “So, what did you want to tell me?”

“Well, all of that, but also, we need to coordinate.  It would be best if we could get Suzuki-san to stay in one place, but I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

“We were trying to do that before.”

“I kind of thought so,” said Izuku.  “The problem is, if you’re moving around, you’re going to run into All Might like you ran into me back in my dreamscape.  If Suzuki-san’s quirk works the way I think it does, and he keeps using it on me, that’s not a problem at this point.  But if he starts using it on T—on All Might, that’s different.”

“You know what his quirk is?” asked Ochako, raising her eyebrows.

“I think he can make people think of particular topics,” said Izuku.  “Like secrets and stuff.  Which is why him realizing he’s in All Might’s mind would be bad.”

Ochako nodded and perched on the edge of one of the tables. “All Might was number one for so long,” she said, “I’d be surprised if he didn’t know a whole bunch of different classified things.  Should we try to go back?”

“… I’d say yes, but I need my brain power for escaping, not rendering traumatic moments from my childhood, and I know a lot of different classified things.  Some of which are, uh.  Significantly more recent.  Plus, I’m not sure All Might will let you go back.”

“Oh,” said Ochako, tilting her head.  “Don’t take this the wrong way, but there isn’t any truth behind Todoroki’s secret love child theory, is there?”

“Absolutely not,” said Izuku.  

“Okay.   I’m guessing you have a plan?”

“More like a distraction,” said Izuku.  “I don’t know how well this will work, but…”

.

“You know,” said Izuku as he shouldered his bag, both fascinated and horrified, “with your head shaved and the face mask bit, you kind of look like, you know.”

“Ah,” said Toshinori, uncertain how to react to realizing that he had dressed both himself and his successor as their worst enemy.  “I suppose,” he said.  “The coat is very different, though.”

“Yes.  It is.”

“Speaking of which,” said Toshinori, forcibly changing the topic, “remember to take the tie off if you get into a fight.  It’s too easy to grab on to.”

Izuku nodded, partially distracted by all the conversations happening in his head.  Then he blinked.  

“Vigilantism?”

Toshinori shrugged sheepishly.  “Did you ever consider it?”

All Izuku had ever wanted to do was help people.  Save people.  Heroics had been the best option.  For a while, the only option.  In theory, a person could get into heroics on merit and skill.  Everything else…  Anything like a doctor or a police officer or a lawyer…  It would have been impossible for a quirkless person.  Even finding housing could be difficult for the quirkless, because most landlords made people disclose their quirks, to ‘prevent accidents from bad quirk interactions.’

Toshinori wrapped an arm around Izuku’s shoulder.  For a moment, Izuku had forgotten he’d been listening in.  For a moment, he’d forgotten how bitter he could be about that particular

“Not then,” he said.  He’d known that he’d never survive without training he couldn’t get except at a hero school like UA.  “But now?”

“Heh.  We’ll make quite the duo, won’t we, my boy?”  

They needed to leave.  Before Trace got too close.  They both had their directions, but it didn’t really matter if they remembered them clearly or not.  Not when they could hear and feel each other, and they had so much help.  

They exited the hideout, climbed up through the storm drains, navigated through the building above them, walked a block together, and split up without another word.

Trace’s quirk could tell where a person had been.  She wasn’t as good at determining when they had been there.  Any trails left within two hours of each other looked more or less the same, according to her registration with the hero commission.  According to an interview Izuku had seen her give once, in the aftermath of a kidnapping, after ten, the trail disappeared entirely, and she needed to have the trail to follow it.  

If Izuku and Toshinori looped over their trails often enough, she wouldn’t be able to tell which trail was which.  With luck and planning, they could lead her in maze-like loops, break their trail up with buses and jumps between buildings, and get a head start on her. A head start that they could use to outdistance her, because her tracking quirk took time to work.  

At least, that was what Izuku hoped would happen.  In reality, the commission records tended to be out of date, heroes rarely gave completely correct information about their quirks to the public, and even Izuku’s encyclopedic knowledge had limits.  After all, encyclopedias gave only short overviews of their subjects.  

But there had to be some relation between reality and record.

And if it didn’t work…  Izuku’s self-preservation skills was trash, but eight minds whirred behind his, more than ready to put theirs to work for him.  The consensus was to fight, and, in this state, they would operate by the consensus.  Nine of them together.  

Nine here, keeping them physically away from the commission. Nine inside, keeping their secrets safe. Nine keeping the doors strong and the vault clo—

He stumbled at the unexpected direction of his thoughts. His head throbbed.  

It would be much easier if they weren’t in his head anymore.

He hurried forward.  

.

Miles away, in the most secure prison in the country, the guards of the most dangerous villain in the worlds scrambled for answers.  They had sedated the man known as All for One to what was, frankly, a dangerous degree.  He hadn’t so much as twitched in hours, nor had he spoken, even before that.

His brain activity was elevated.  

Highly elevated.  

It had been for hours, and they had no idea why.  

.

All for One smiled at the vault door in front of him. It had been a long time since he’d seen it, but, nevertheless, his memory of it was pristine.  It was, after all, a place he revisited often in his thoughts.  

Wondering, wondering.

But this wasn’t then.  This wasn’t a result of him being lost in thought.  Oh, no.  This was something infinitely more interesting.  Infinitely more valuable.  

He ran his hand through his curly hair and hummed contemplatively.  Interesting, interesting indeed.  

He walked to the door an ran his fingers down the cold interior, the little scrapes and knicks catching at his fingertips.  Now, this, this was more detail than he had retained, but not, perhaps, more detail than, say, someone who had been imprisoned here for a long time would recall.  

A smile stretched out over his face, wide and sparkling and full of glee.  

This, he thought, would be quite amusing.  

He pulled back his hand and made a fist.  

“Knock knock, little brother.”

.

Izuku slowed to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk.

That.  

He blinked, hard.

That would be a problem.  

He started walking again, faster.  

.

Toshinori leaned against a grimy city wall, out of breath. The mask was thick and made it hard to breathe, especially with his singular lung.  

Of course, what had him gasping wasn’t anything physical, but the massive weight of dread that had just settled on his chest.  Was Izuku in trouble?  Did the commission get him?

No.  

Slowly, unerringly, he rotated until he faced Tartarus.

Ah.

Not again.

.

Izuku broke off mid-sentence and grabbed Ochako by the wrist as the restaurant vibrated.  

“What was that?” asked Ochako.  

“A problem,” said Izuku, staring off into the distance, as if he was seeing something completely different.  Well.  He could be, Ochako realized.  

“Something in the real world?  Wherever you are?”

“No,” said Izuku.  “Change of plans.  You guys really, really need to get out of here.”  He pulled her out the door onto the street.  The sky was rapidly darkening.  He seemed to realize he was still holding onto her, and blushed, dropping her wrist.  “S-sorry.”

“We don’t know how, though.  I thought that was why we were doing the distraction.”

“We don’t know how, but…”  Izuku bit his lower lip.  “Yeah, yeah, no, one might be able to do something.  But if they’re closer…  Can’t just wait.  Can we still wait?  What do you think?  What… That would work?  Maybe.  We can work with maybe.  Seven, that’s too far.   Okay, yeah. Yeah.”

“Izuku-kun?”

“Sorry!  Sorry. I think…  I think you might have to go forward after all.  The others have been here longer than I have.  They know more.”  He started running down the street.  “Come on!”

“Others?  What others?” asked Ochako, hurrying to catch up.

“The, um.  The others we’re connected to, me and, and All Might.”  He wasn’t looking at her as he ran.  “If you ask them—They’ll know more than me.  They’ve been doing this longer, and this is tangled in one’s quirk. One of them might have seen a quirk like this before, been in this position before.”

“But—”

“It’s just really dangerous for you to be here right now.”

“Why?”

Izuku stopped and bounced in place.  “Weakened mental immune system, basically.  Something else is trying to get in.  Can’t do both at the same time.”

A building behind him exploded into rubble.  He winced.  

“What’s going on?” asked Ochako.  

“Flashback,” said Izuku.  “Toshinori…”  He shook his head and pointed down a cross street.  “If you go this way, you’ll be able to meet back up with everyone.”

“What about the plan?”

Izuku shook his head.  “Just try to stay alive, for now.  This isn’t going to be fun.  I’m sorry, I have to go!”

Before Ochako could protest further, he was gone.  

[fairfaxleasee]

"how much have you had?" For Solas and Trevelyan!

For @dadrunkwriting

Pairing: Solas/f!Trevelyan

Characters: Ayala Trevelyan, Solas, Dorian

CW: Alcohol use

------------------------------

“Lethallan, just how much have you had?”  Solas raised an eyebrow at Ayala Trevelyan as she giggled while she was slumped across the library table.

“Uh... not much I don’t think?” Ayala managed to say between fits of laughter.

Solas wouldn’t believe the statement from anyone else.  In addition to the laughter (which was what first alerted him to come up the stairs from his usual haunt in Skyhold) and the fact that Ayala didn’t seem to be able to sit up straight, her face was flushed.  She was obviously drunk, but given that whatever alcohol was in her glass had been poured from a bottle covered in Tevene that Dorian must have provided and how rarely she drank anything, it was entirely possible that she had only had a few sips.

“Has anyone ever told you, Solas - you’re a positively dreadful worrywart.  I’m keeping an eye on her, she’s perfectly safe.  Besides, you had plenty of time to corrupt our dear Herald before I got here, mysterious elven apostate that you are - I think it’s only sporting that you let the evil agent of the Black Divine have a fair shake at it.”  Dorian poured himself another full glass from the bottle.

Solas couldn’t decide whether he wanted to narrow his eyes or roll them at the man.  He settled for closing them and shaking his head, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come now - all the ‘private training sessions’ you two get up to?  It’s all over Skyhold you know.”

“...are you referring to the glyphs I instruct her about?”

“My dear man!  I am insulted you think you need to lie to me!” Dorian pressed a hand to his chest in mock affront.

“Oh, but he does teach me glyphs though!  Why do you think that’s a lie?” Ayala gave up trying to sit up and put her elbow on the table so she could use a hand to prop her head up.

“Ye gods, you poor, little Southern Circle mage!  Don’t tell me you actually study with the man!”

“What else would we do?”

Dorian took a gulp of his drink, “Study each other, for a start.”

“I don’t -”

Solas cut Ayala off, “That’s enough, Dorian!  And she’s obviously had more than enough.  Come, lethallan, I’ll see you to your quarters.”

“That’s quite unnecessary, Solas!  She’s perfectly fine.  And capable of making her own decisions.”

“Not when she’s too drunk to even sit up!”

“...are you mad at me?” Ayala turned to Solas.  She’d stopped laughing and he could see tears in the corner of her eyes.

“No, lethallan.  I am however rather annoyed at your companion, whose idiotic idea I can only assume this was.”

“I - well - that’s...” Dorian sputtered.

“Entirely accurate?” Solas offered.

“...I just wanted to be able to be normal and talk with you.  Dorian said it’d be easier if I loosened up a little...”

Dorian leaned across the table, “I thought we agreed that you weren’t going to tell him that part!”

“..but if he’s mad it doesn’t matter ‘cause he won’t talk to me anyway.”

“We can discuss matters in private at another time, lethallan,” he tried to keep his voice neutral but either he didn’t succeed or she interpreted his neutrality as anger.

“...okay,” she pushed the chair back and tried to stand.  She stumbled almost immediately and Solas rushed over to catch her.  Fortunately Dorian was either too drunk or too ashamed of himself to question how Solas could easily carry the human woman out of the library towards her chambers (even if both eventualities seemed equally unlikely to Solas).

She was silent the entire way there.  He had thought she was asleep but she grabbed his necklace when he laid her down on her bed.  “It’s later and private, so we can talk now?”

He could hear the hope in her words.  He should quash it now.  For both their sakes.  “You’re still clearly inebriated, lethallan.  Now is not the time for any discussion.”

“But if I’m not, I can’t...  I don’t...” 

He watched her ransack her mind for an explanation.  If he could be firm here, now, he could end things before they truly began.  “Perhaps you would be more equipped to discuss things in the Fade?”

...that was not what he intended to have said.

“But how?”

“It is possible for two mages to communicate with each other directly in the Fade.  There is a bit of a trick to it, however I am confident you will catch on.”

Why was he offering to get closer to her?  She already trusted him - saw him as an advisor, a mentor.  He didn’t need anything more from her.  He shouldn’t even be considering anything more with her.  Let alone all but begging for it.

“Do you promise?”

No.  Say ‘NO!’

“Yes, lethallan.”

“Do you need to show me?”

“No, the trick involves finding each other.  But don’t worry, I have it on good authority where to look for you.”

“How?”

“Several of my friends speak very highly of you,” she looked at him quizzically.  “You would not know them out here,” he explained.

“Oh.  Those friends.”

“Yes, those friends.”

“So...” she ran a finger along the halla jawbone.

“I will follow you in a bit, lethallan.”

She let go of the necklace and sank back against the mattress.  Solas left her chambers and walked back to his own to do the least advisable thing he could think of.  Find Ayala Trevelyan in the Fade.

[zirkkun]

I have a question that you might be able to answer. How would I write a trans sans AU? Like male to female without making it offense. They're skeletons so I'm not sure how make it work out.

I mean I'm notoriously bad at explaining gender to people, but I can do my best! It's one of those concepts that I understand but don't quite understand how others can't since it just works in my brain, ahah 💦💦

I do know that there is a short AU comic that I read a while back that had a trans Sans. I can't remember the name... "Spring Before Another Winter" maybe? Something like that. That might help you, too!

But the thing with gender is that it's not biological. It's just... a way of expressing yourself, I guess? Being trans is just going from one side of the spectrum to the other (or transitioning from whatever your assigned gender may have been. In the case of Mettaton and Mew Mew notably, they were both non-binary originally before transitioning.)

Besides, monsters aren't exactly depicted canonically to have any reproductive biological differences, and monsters are pretty open when it comes to gender (calling Frisk "they" rather than "he" or "she" as a default; ghosts all being essentially agender until they decide otherwise such as with Mettaton and Mew Mew; Papyrus's door saying "No boys, no girls, only Papyrus allowed;" probably many other examples). It's to be inferred that they probably don't really have the same binary system that humans have. Which, actually, this may seem like useless information for writing a trans character -- but considering this is a pre-established work, taking into account the culture and society of monsters is actually pretty important! It would be strange for monsters to suddenly have human customs or suddenly go against what they usually believe.

There's a few different ways I often see writing characters as different genders goes, too, but they all are pretty different, despite on the surface being the same.

1) Writing a character just in general as a different gender from the start. For example, Aqua (ULR!Muffet) is like that for me, being that they are genderfluid. Or people tend to have different interations of Frisk or Chara, such as XTale. Or, another example is nekojaf's Idoltale, where all of her Sanses are girls. If you were to write Sans as trans from the start, it's probably best if you establish them as a woman and have the topic be brought up naturally. A very cliché way of revealing a trans character tends to be a "Oh no, I walked in on you dressing" scene or something, which I would highly advise not doing, because this has a lot of implications that go against the gender spectrum itself by enforcing "biology defines who you are" and creates and uncomfortable scenario for the viewer and characters too. (Obviously, the characters are characters and not people, but I mean this as... it's not a good way of establishing relationships between characters.) That and it's just very overdone. Unless this Sans you're writing is younger -- Sans by default is an adult, and is definitely (despite their jokester attitude) mature enough to bring it up if necessary. But you also don't have to bring it up at all! It could just be something in your notes and you go through the whole series writing Sans as a woman. Mettaton, for example, is a character that is wholly written as a man despite being trans. It's only clarified in his diaries that he used to be a ghost.

2) Writing a genderbend, which is... often frowned upon. I separate this from the first one, because genderbending is typically done in a manner that is more focused on the idea of "biological gender," and often it's done to either be a gag or sexualized. Some people just do it for designs, but even still it often makes people uncomfortable. (Frankly, changing anything from canon will always make people uncomfortable, but genderbending has always been a touchy subject.) I'd try to avoid this, ESPECIALLY if you're trying to write a trans character.

3) And, of course, writing a character who is still discovering more about themselves! This can be a bit more difficult to write, especially if you've never experienced this yourself. If you're uncomfortable or unconfident in this, you don't have to write it -- but either way, I WILL advise reading or studying how trans folk think and feel when discovering more about themselves (if you don't have any personal experiences with it yourself.) I feel as though the experience is pretty similar for a lot of people, just based on the ones I know and have talked to. I know for me I actually figured out I didn't fit my assigned gender at a really young age, like before middle school (though I didn't know what it meant) just because of my surroundings being harassed for wearing the "wrong" clothes and following around my very gender-ambiguous sister. However, it took me until I was 18 to really feel remotely confident in who I was -- and honestly, I still question it. It's a learning process, and people tend to be really flexible in going between a few different things before they settle on something that really clicks.

I... think that's about all I can think of. Anyone else can feel free to add on to this!! Or.. remind me of the title I forgot earlier lol. But I hope this helps!!! Like I said this is kinda hard for me to explain sometimes so 😅

[dinosaurtsukki]

prompt 71 for akaashi, the very tired and done with life person (this man needs a break 😔) -🍙

Oh my god he does need a break. Also I love writing about chaotic Akaashi he just seems like the type to do really weird things when he’s by himself

Akaashi + 71

71.  “Sometimes I question my sanity. Occasionally it replies.”

Dating the editor of a shonen manga magazine meant that there would be long periods of time when Akaashi would be locked in his apartment and the only time you’d hear from him was when he’d either send you a ‘good morning’ text at two in the afternoon or a really long rant about a manga creator who kept missing their deadline at three in the morning. This time wasn’t any different. The magazine was fast approaching its publication deadline and Akaashi had been in his apartment for two weeks, busy contacting manga creators and the printing office. He didn’t like being around anyone else during this time, especially since he knew you were busy too, but Akaashi always let you know when the final deadline, which was exactly when you came to visit him.

“Keiji?” you unlocked the door to his apartment and immediately spotted your boyfriend, lying in the middle of the living room floor with papers strewn around him. He was awake and staring at the ceiling with his glasses propped up on his forehead and right beside him, in its 12-inch glory, was a Sasuke figurine.

“Keiji?” you repeated. Akaashi blinked, as if in response, and inclined his head up to look at the Sasuke figurine.

“Did you say something?” he asked. You burst out laughing, regretting the fact that you didn’t have your phone on you.

“Keiji, it’s y/n,” you finally stepped closer and sat on the floor beside him. Akaashi turned his head finally to look at you. 

“Oh, it’s you,” he sighed, taking one of your hands. “I thought...” 

“You thought it was Sasuke?” you chuckled, brushing hair from his face. Up close, you could see how dark his undereye circles were. ‘He definitely needs to pass out for sixteen hours at least,’ you thought.

“I don’t even know why I brought him out in the first place,” Akaashi mumbled and rubbed at his eyes. “Sometimes I question my sanity. Occasionally, it replies. And I think this time it was self-projected on this Sasuke figurine.” He sat up and poked Sasuke on the forehead. You looked up at the mess around him, seeing new things every time you scanned the area. Aside from papers, there were more than a few scattered pencils, what appeared to be an angry letter directed at a manga creator written in crayon, some cans of energy drinks, and a bowl of wet cereal. Out of curiosity, you looked into the bowl that was perched on the table.

“Is this cereal and... water?” you made a face.

“Didn’t have time to buy milk,” Akaashi yawned and sat up, picking up some papers around him. “Don’t eat that. I highly advise against eating cereal and water.” 

“Wasn’t going to,” you shuddered, picking up the bowl and taking it to the sink. “Anyway, I brought some real food. Miya Onigiri,” you grinned at him as he finished picking up the papers from his floor. “So you better get some food in you before you pass out for two days.” 

“I love you,” Akaashi smiled gratefully, walking up and wrapping his arms around you. You missed his hugs while he was away. “Can you, stay the night? And maybe the night after that?” 

“And the night after that?” you suggested playfully. “Of course. I already brought some clothes with me.” 

“You’re the best y/n,” Akaashi chuckled. “It’ll be just you and me.” 

“And Sasuke.” 

“And Sasuke.” 

taglist (open to anyone who wants in):  @oikaw-ugh​ @montys-chaos​ @miyumtwins​ @strawberriimilkshake​ @pocubo​ @sugawara-sweetheart @akaashisbabydoll @laure-chan @therainroguefanfiction

[halothenthehorns]

TLTNL- THE SLUG CLUB

James took the book from Lily, their hands lingering for an extra second on each other. It didn't seem possible, but somehow every new year of their sons school added an extra layer of worry, and this one was no better. With only more worrisome details for whatever the Death Eaters were planning, the parents terror could only grow when Harry would figure it out.

For now though, they could at least hope the rest of his stay at the Burrow and his soon train ride held no excitement, so James still continued with high spirits.

Harry spent a lot of the last week of the holidays pondering the meaning of Malfoy's behavior in Knockturn Alley. What disturbed him most was the satisfied look on Malfoy's face as he had left the shop. Nothing that made Malfoy look that happy could be good news.

"I entirely agree," Sirius couldn't help but dejectedly say, there wasn't much of a funny spin he could put on that.

To his slight annoyance, however, neither Ron nor Hermione seemed quite as curious about Malfoy's activities as he was;

"They what?" They all demanded, sure they'd heard wrong.

"Let him finish," Harry soothed, though the look on his face showed it wasn't going to end much better.

or at least, they seemed to get bored of discussing it after a few days.

"It is now a good thing Molly never let them join the Order," Remus rolled his eyes. "After the third meeting they'd probably stop attending."

"Be fair, they don't know what we know, which is there is something going on," Lily halfheartedly defended. "They just know that for the past five years Malfoy's been a rotten child, they've just witnessed one of his acts this time."

"They should have believed me when I said it was something more, how else was I supposed to figure out what Malfoy was up to if I couldn't bounce ideas off of them," Harry huffed.

  Hermione impatiently agreed as much when he brought it up again. She was sitting on the windowsill in Fred and George's room with her feet up on one of the cardboard boxes and had only grudgingly looked up from her new copy of Advanced Rune Translation.

"I'm still amazed you can accomplish that at all," James smirked.

"Why would she even bring that in there and expect to get any work done?" Sirius agreed.

Reminding there could be any number of things they just didn't know about.

Ron suggested Malfoy could have broken his Hand of Glory.*

"When on Earth did Malfoy have that?" Sirius demanded, clearly thinking he'd missed something.

"I told Ron Malfoy took an interest to it the first time I was in there, maybe Ron thought I meant his dad did buy it," Harry offered, though they'd never actually seen him use it in school.

Harry repeated Malfoy's instructions of keeping ‘that one' safe, making it seem Malfoy had a broken set of something. When neither of his friends responded to him again pointing this out, Harry insisted with his dad in Azkaban, Malfoy would want revenge.

"I can't see even Borgin and Burkes having anything to help with that though," Remus disagreed. "Revenge against who? Azkaban? The Ministry? You?"

"I would have said the first seemed the most likely, what with the 'it's never been done before' bit Narcissa offered, but just last year there were massive breakouts, so that doesn't seem the problem," Sirius sighed.

"Voldemort's gotten others into Hogwarts if he was the target, and Malfoy's also a student, so that shouldn't be it either," Lily agreed while trying not to bite at her lip.

"And I can not for the life of me imagine what a sixteen year old could do against the Ministry of Magic, even they're not that incompetent," James sighed.

"You're missing the part where this was originally Voldemort's idea," Harry insisted as he felt sure they were missing the mark on all accounts.

"Yet Malfoy's clearly pleased to go along with whatever it is, not just following orders, so it must be something he'd be for as well. Revenge is the best we've got to go on as far as motive," Lily patiently reminded.

Harry couldn't help smiling at them, they'd already offered more for his idea than his two friends, and it felt nice to not be so dismissed.

Ron was baffled what Malfoy could do about any revenge, and Harry agreed in frustration he didn't know, he was clearly up to something serious.

Sirius look muddled, like he wasn't sure what the response he was supposed to give for that was. His preferred joke was most certainly in poor taste, but it would be crass of him not to do it at this point!

Then he saw Harry look to him, almost genuinely concerned at even the hint of a pause, so Sirius finished as if there hadn't been one, "I wish I could still help out with this pup."

Lily gave the obligatory groan and Remus made to flick him in the ear, but all of them had an almost relieved look about them. At least they didn't look like they were counting down how many times he had left to do that.

His father was a Death Eater and-

Harry broke off, his eyes fixed on the window behind Hermione, his mouth open. A startling thought had just occurred to him.

"And that is?" James encouraged when Harry got a rather dissatisfied look on his face for this thought occurring to him now.

"That Malfoy's a Death Eater," he sighed.

There was a pitying little pause at the look of resignation on his face while Sirius nodded slowly.

"Guess you already put that together from what Narcissa said. I wish it was more surprising, or rare honestly, for that megalomaniac to be using anyone and everyone he wants." It was an even more depressing realization his own little brother was hardly older than this Malfoy kid when he'd suffered a similar fate, and likely as undo-able a task from what they'd heard. Sirius couldn't come up with another reason for why he'd desert his lifelong dream other than getting a job he couldn't handle.

Hermione anxiously demanded what was wrong, Ron nervously asking if it was his scar.

"Can't even blame him, after last year, that's the first thing I would have thought to," Remus sighed.

Harry slowly said aloud his idea Malfoy was a Death Eater.

"Actually, why would you have put that together considering you didn't know what we did," James couldn't help but jump at this leap.

"You guys just agreed it isn't so crazy," Harry said defensively at once.

"Because we know it's true," James agreed, "but you haven't exactly seen a lot of experience with it, or had it confirmed before that. You were just chatting about his dad and what he could be up to."

Harry just huffed and muttered, but waved his dad on, knowing he'd have to explain himself to his friends in a few moments already like he'd already been doing all summer.

There was a silence; then Ron erupted in laughter, reminding Harry he was only sixteen, You-Know-Who would have to be crazy.

"Age has never been a factor for him, it's what you can do for him," Sirius scowled.

Hermione agreed it was highly unlikely, where had he come up with that?

Harry reminded how in Madam Malkin's he hadn't let her touch his arm, he must have been branded with the Dark Mark.

"I, didn't even notice that," Lily's brows shot up in surprise, before she corrected, "though joining the Death Eaters doesn't automatically mean you got a Dark Mark. I'd think that was only for those he's marked as worthy, not of every single one."

Harry chose not to argue back since she didn't call him crazy outright for it.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, clearly unconvinced, while Harry went on Malfoy had shown Borgin something, and it seriously scared Borgin.

"I could scare the pants off of him without pants!" Sirius agreed without the hesitation this time, but as his friends winced slightly and Harry gave a softer laugh than usual, he needlessly pointed out, "You keep invoking my name, I can tell how much you'd been missing me."

Harry grinned at him again, though he'd willingly admit he'd have liked to have his godfathers opinion on this at the time as much as anything.

It was the Mark, he knew it. He was showing Borgin who he was dealing with, they saw how seriously Borgin took him!

"He'd treat him nothing like me!" Sirius insisted while Remus flicked his ear again.

"To Harry's credit, Malfoy did show him something and he seemed much more likely to back down," James agreed with that logic, never not astounded how his son so easily put such things together they'd only given passing thoughts to.

Ron and Hermione exchanged another look.

Annoyed, but absolutely convinced he was right,

"It's not usual you've got to deal with that with Hermione and Ron," Remus sighed, already exhausted by this ongoing argument he could feel brewing.

Harry snatched up a pile of filthy Quidditch robes and left the room; Mrs. Weasley had been urging them for days not to leave their washing and packing until the last moment. On the landing he bumped into Ginny, who was returning to her room carrying a pile of freshly laundered clothes.

She warned him to be careful in the kitchen, there was an excess of Phlegm around.

"What a kind warning," Sirius couldn't help but snicker.

Harry smiled and thanked her, promising he wouldn't slip in it.

Sure enough, when he entered the kitchen it was to find Fleur sitting at the kitchen table, in full flow about plans for her wedding to Bill, while Mrs. Weasley kept watch over a pile of self-peeling sprouts, looking bad-tempered.

Fleur was explaining more wedding plans. They'd narrowed it down to two bridesmaids,

"Who were the other options besides the two sisters?" James wondered at that.

"Hopefully not past girlfriends of Bill's, that wouldn't do him any favors," Sirius smirked.

"Sirius, I'm advising you I don't care how far in advance, don't ever bring that up in your own wedding, it will get you cursed," Lily promised, wanting to smack him herself for the stupid suggestion no matter how much he was joking.

"Padfoot seems to have an unfortunate ability to attract violent women," James pleasantly noted.

"I imagine they were far less violent before they met him," Remus rolled his eyes. "Lily's the only exception I've met."

and their dresses would be pale gold, Ginny would look horrible in pink of course.

"Why?" Harry asked in confusion, thinking Ginny wouldn't look horrible in any color she chose.

"I'm not going to let Lily explain that, no one else cares," Sirius loudly said.

She scowled at him even more than before, honestly wanting to smack him herself now just for thinking she would, she hadn't really a care for that sort of thing.

"You're only proving Prongs' point," Remus happily reminded him while James ignored them anyways.

Mrs. Weasley loudly interrupted at the sight of Harry to explain they'd be getting Ministry cars to the train again tomorrow and Aurors at the station. Harry asked if it was Tonks again, to which Molly explained Arthur said she was already positioned somewhere else.

Fleur inserted Tonks had let herself go, while gazing into her own reflection in the back of a spoon.

"You really can't blame those girls, thinking her so vain, when every time she's been mentioned this summer she's talking about herself and doing that," Lily sighed.

Mrs. Weasley tartly cut in Harry should have himself ready, no one needed the usual last minute scramble.

Indeed, their departure the following morning was smoother than usual. The Ministry cars glided up to the front of the Burrow to find them waiting, trunks packed; Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, safely enclosed in his traveling basket; and Hedwig; Ron's owl, Pigwidgeon; and Ginny's new purple Pygmy Puff, Arnold, in cages.

"The Weasley's really do have the most interesting names for things," Remus cocked his head to the side, thinking Arnold the most mundane thing that could be given to a purple ball of fluff.

"Remember Ginny named Pig to, so as of now it's all her fault, and she seems to have no consistency on how wild they get," Sirius chuckled.

Fleur gave him a double kiss goodbye. Ron hurried forward, looking hopeful, but Ginny stuck out her foot and Ron fell, sprawling in the dust at Fleur's feet.

"What a lovely sister," James noted.

"Growing happier by the moment I never used to have one," Sirius agreed, making Lily flush in surprise and decide not to put extra salt on his plate at lunch, for now.

Furious, red-faced, and dirt-spattered, he hurried into the car without saying good-bye.

There was no cheerful Hagrid waiting for them at King's Cross Station. Instead, two grim-faced, bearded Aurors in dark Muggle suits moved forward the moment the cars stopped and, flanking the party, marched them into the station without speaking.

"There is such a thing as taking your job-" Remus cut himself off with a nasty look at Sirius, who looked disappointed his friend hadn't slipped up.

Mrs. Weasley, seemed a little flustered by this austere efficiency.

"I can't really blame her, it just sounds odd to need security for the short walk it is onto the platform," James agreed.

An Auror even tried to guide Harry straight through the barrier by his arm before Harry snapped he could walk on his own as he jerked his arm away.

"So ungrateful for someone trying to hold your hand," Sirius nodded.

He pushed his trolley directly at the solid barrier, ignoring his silent companion, and found himself, a second later, standing on platform nine and three-quarters, where the scarlet Hogwarts Express stood belching steam over the crowd.

Harry really couldn't help a nostalgic smile as that image lingered in his mind, and he really did wonder for a moment why he'd feel like it would be so long before he saw it again. He still had another school year left of course to be missing such a thing.

Hermione and the Weasleys joined him within seconds. Without waiting to consult his grim-faced Auror, Harry motioned to Ron and Hermione to follow him up the platform, looking for an empty compartment. Hermione reminded they couldn't they had to go check in as Prefects.

Harry admitted he'd forgotten.

"Poor thing is probably going to forget that next year as well, it is odd to get used to," Sirius sighed, it had always thrown him off when Moony did it, and then Prongs as well in their last year.

Mrs. Weasley was hugging everyone goodbye, before Harry made the impulse decision to ask Mr. Weasley for a quick word.

"Well this is bringing back an unpleasant flashback," James grumbled, but tried to ignore Sirius shifting in unease as well for the reminder of when this had last happened.

Mr. Weasley, who looked slightly surprised, followed Harry out of earshot of the others nevertheless.

Harry had thought it through carefully and come to the conclusion that, if he was to tell anyone, Mr. Weasley was the right person; firstly, because he worked at the Ministry and was therefore in the best position to make further investigations, and secondly, because he thought that there was not too much risk of Mr. Weasley exploding with anger.

"Well you're certainly not wrong on either account," Sirius burst out with surprised laughter.

James couldn't get the same enthusiasm for realizing what Harry was going to tell him, it was too depressing to once again here his son turning to someone else who should have been him.

He could see Mrs. Weasley and the grim-faced Auror casting the pair of them suspicious looks as they moved away.

Mr. Weasley interrupted Harry's starting by asking if he was finally going to learn where they'd really disappeared to when they were supposed to be in the back of the shop.

"I'm not really surprised they didn't fall for that," Sirius agreed.

Harry was surprised he knew otherwise,

"I'm more shocked than anything Harry thought they did," Remus snorted.

but Arthur interrupted to remind he was the same man who had raised Fred and George.

"He's got you there," James agreed.

Harry admitted to that, and Arthur said he was ready to hear the worst.

"Oh don't say that, he'll actually be getting it," Lily sighed.

Harry again tried to explain they'd seen Malfoy and decided to follow him under the Cloak- Arthur again interrupted to ask if there had been an actual reason, or just a whim?

"Honestly the second," Sirius pointed out while Harry tried to scowl at him without admitting he was right.

Harry insisted he'd done so because he thought Malfoy was up to something, and then explained the rest. Arthur took it in silence, contemplated for a moment, before saying slowly he doubted You-Know-Who would allow a sixteen year old-

"I'm almost glad that's not as common place in their time," Lily blinked in surprise for that response from him.

"Voldemort also doesn't have the swollen ranks he does in this time," James reminded pityingly. "Now he's got massive followers every which way, from all we've seen though, he really may not have more than his circle. I can almost see where Arthur's coming from."

Harry at least felt better hearing that explained, but it didn't make him feel better everyone kept calling this such a crazy idea when he knew he was right.

Harry shot back no one really knew what Voldemort would do.

Mr. Weasley slowly explained that when Lucius had been arrested, his mansion had been searched, and the Malfoys had been stripped of everything that could be dangerous.

Harry insisted they must have missed something, and Arthur agreed in a tone that implied he was only humoring Harry now.

Harry's scowl increased, this was as maddening as last year! Hadn't he proved himself more than a paranoid child! He should be taken seriously about this!

"Relax Harry," James tried to sooth with a look Harry couldn't quite identify with. "You've come to him with a hunch, and he's at least listening to you. Come back again with a bit more proof, which I know you'll get during your year, and I know you'll get something done."

Harry did relax just a bit, hoping he was right, and missing his dad's smile increasing.

There was a whistle behind them; nearly everyone had boarded the train and the doors were closing.

Harry hurried to the train as it began chugging along, while Mrs. Weasley called after them he was coming to their house for Christmas, the train began picking up speed as she continued, moving along with it, for them all to be good, the train was rounding the bend now as she nearly jogged to keep up with her final warning to stay safe!

Sirius honestly wanted to laugh at the woman again, but the look on Lily's face promised he wouldn't be allowed without getting an earful. She was grateful someone was still looking after her boy.

Harry waved until the train had turned a corner and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were lost to view, then turned to see where the others had got to. He supposed Ron and Hermione were cloistered in the prefects' carriage, but Ginny was a little way along the corridor, chatting to some friends. He made his way toward her, dragging his trunk.

People stared shamelessly as he approached. They even pressed their faces against the windows of their compartments to get a look at him.

"Suppose you should be grateful they're not all following you around like Collin was yet," Remus sighed.

He had expected an upswing in the amount of gaping and gawping he would have to endure this term after all the "Chosen One" rumors in the Daily Prophet, but he did not enjoy the sensation of standing in a very bright spotlight. He tapped Ginny on the shoulder, asking if she'd like to find a compartment.

She returned she had to find Dean, but she'd see him later.

"Ouch, getting dismissed all over the place this year," James winced.

"What a sight to behold, little Ginny dismissing the Great Chosen One," Sirius agreed.

Harry found their teasing only mildly less annoying than the staring and chose to ignore them just as well.

He felt a strange twinge of annoyance as she walked away, her long red hair dancing behind her; he had become so used to her presence over the summer that he had almost forgotten that Ginny did not hang around with him, Ron, and Hermione while at school.

"Was she really around that much? You hardly mentioned her more than normal," Lily asked in surprise.

Harry chose not to answer, still in a clear bad mood for the gawkers it seemed.

Then he blinked and looked around: He was surrounded by mesmerized girls until a voice behind him called for his attention and Harry turned in relife to find Neville,

Sirius inhaled deeply, and this time Remus swooped in and jammed his finger into Sirius' ear, causing him to yelp in protest but thankfully not again be able to shout about one of Harry's friends showing up. Sirius rubbed at his ear and called Moony a killjoy, who decided he'd rather be that than Sirius, killer of ears.

with Luna right behind him.

"Luna's back," Sirius said pointedly to Remus, though thankfully he kept it at a decent volume, his hand still protectively on his ear.

"Thank you Sirius, that's quite interesting to know," Remus gently pandered now that he wasn't shouting it.

Harry greeted them gratefully, asking how their summer had gone. She replied very well, already clutching a copy of the Quibbler which promised a free pair of Spectrespecs inside. Harry asked their magazine was still going well, having a fondness for it after giving an interview last year.

"To Rita Skeeter though, we just can't forget that part," James wrinkled his nose at the reminder.

"Worth it," Harry shrugged, it had done him much more good than harm for once.

Luna happily agreed circulation was still up.

Harry offered they should go find seats, and the three of them set off along the train through hordes of silently staring students. At last they found an empty compartment, and Harry hurried inside gratefully.

Neville told they were even being stared at, because they'd been with him.

"Congratulations, they're getting what Ron always wanted," Lily rolled her eyes.

"Hope they enjoy it," Harry sighed.

Harry reminded they were staring because they'd also been at the Ministry, the Daily Prophet had made that clear.

Neville had thought his Gran would be mad about that publicity, but she'd been really pleased, saying at long lost he was living up to his dad.

All five of them made agitated faces at that, honestly wishing Neville would stop being compared to his parents as much as Harry wished the same of late.

She'd already bought him a new wand. He pulled it out and showed it to Harry, proclaiming it as Cherry and unicorn, one of the last Ollivander had sold, as he'd vanished the next day.

"Blimey, Neville's already getting some better luck for his life," Remus winced for the reminder.

Then he shouted for Trevor to get back here.

"Glad to know at least that toad won't let a joke die," Sirius chuckled.

And he dived under the seat to retrieve his toad as it made one of its frequent bids for freedom.

Luna asked, while detaching a pair of psychedelic spectacles from the middle of The Quibbler, if the D. A. meetings would continue this year.

"That's actually a good question I hadn't thought of," Lily agreed at once.

"Won't need to will we, unless we actually manage to get another teacher like Umbridge who refuses to teach us," Harry shrugged, very much hoping his luck wasn't that awful.

"Well yes, but who says you can't still use it to help along students. The classes in general are still majorly behind on most basic curses, as was apparent by Fred and George," Remus reminded.

"Plus study groups actually make doing work more bearable," James agreed.

Harry was a bit surprised they were all so encouraging of an idea that hadn't even crossed his mind, and honestly regret just a bit not continuing with it. Though he wasn't sure how it would have even been possible, considering his Quidditch practices and upcoming lessons with Dumbledore would honestly make his schedule as hectic as last year.

Neville thumped his head under the seat, coming out with a bit of fluff in place with disappointment on his face, saying he'd liked the D. A. He'd learned loads.

Luna serenely agreed it had been like having friends.

"Well that was depressing," Sirius said with chipper what everyone was thinking.

"Surely she has friends," Lily tried at once to say positively as if to the girl herself. "She's been known to hang around with Ginny."

"She said friends plural though, making me wonder how many others besides Ginny," Remus muttered.

This was one of those uncomfortable things Luna often said and which made Harry feel a squirming mixture of pity and embarrassment.

"She's rather good at that, I should be taking notes," James agreed.

Before he could respond, however, there was a disturbance outside their compartment door; a group of fourth-year girls was whispering and giggling together on the other side of the glass, all telling each other to go ask him!

One of them, a bold-looking girl with large dark eyes, a prominent chin, and long black hair pushed her way through the door. She introduced herself as Romilda Vane, and offered he

could come sit with them! She finished in a stage whisper, her eyes on Neville's bum again poking out of the seats and Luna in her psychedelic glasses.

"Romilda clearly has no sense of fun at all, not immediately asking what was going on in there," Sirius scoffed.

"Why would they think Harry would want to sit with them anyways," James scowled. "Who wants to sits with brats two years below them."

Lily honestly wanted to tell James he was being a brat by saying that, but she couldn't disagree with him either.

Harry coldly returned those were his friends, and after an awkward pause, she said okay and left.

"Hopefully that taught her right quick about opening her mouth," Remus rolled his eyes. Confidence could be as much a hindrance if not used correctly, which he'd had seven years to watch.

Luna once again displayed her knack of embarrassing honesty by stating people expected him to have cooler friends.

"Who says they're not cool, I'd hang out with them," Sirius scoffed.

"Harry did," James reminded with a chuckle, thinking this wasn't far off from how his last year had started. If Neville's plant spit up on everyone again and Cho came around it would get eerie.

"I learned my lesson," Harry said smoothly.

Harry at once said they were cool! They hadn't been at the Ministry with him.

Luna beamed at him, telling that was very nice to say, before going to her magazine.

Neville quietly reminded they hadn't faced him though, coming back out with his toad in hand. His Gran kept going on about how that Harry Potter had more backbone than all the Ministry of Magic put together.

"Well that's true," James puffed up his chest with pride.

She'd give anything to have Harry as a grandson.

Sirius made a deep snarling noise, well to aware of the feeling your parent wished to replace you, and wouldn't wish that on anyone else! His noise of disgust was echoed throughout the room, Lily couldn't keep going for a moment she was so depressed anyone could think that about themselves!

Harry laughed uncomfortably and changed the subject to OWL results as soon as he could.

James made a little noise of sympathy for Harry though, he had heard Sirius say much the same and had just as quickly himself diverted the topic, there just wasn't much you could say to that.

While Neville recited his grades and wondered aloud whether he would be allowed to take a Transfiguration NEWT, with only an "Acceptable,"

"Highly doubt it," Remus frowned, mind still lingering on other things.

"Did he at once tell you that? Surely he mentioned his better grades," Lily tried to cajole out something positive of that.

Harry distractedly said no, but he hadn't been listening in great detail to what Neville had been saying either.

Harry watched him without really listening.

Neville's childhood had been blighted by Voldemort just as much as Harry's had, but Neville had no idea how close he had come to having Harry's destiny.

None of them had forgotten this, but they'd been happily side stepping that in the hopes it wouldn't bog Harry down. Clearly it was going to now though.

The prophecy could have referred to either of them, yet, for his own inscrutable reasons, Voldemort had chosen to believe that Harry was the one meant.

Had Voldemort chosen Neville, it would be Neville sitting opposite Harry bearing the lightning-shaped scar and the weight of the prophecy. ... Or would it? Would Neville's mother have died to save him, as Lily had died for Harry? Surely she would. . . . But what if she had been unable to stand between her son and Voldemort? Would there then have been no "Chosen One" at all? An empty seat where Neville now sat and a scarless Harry who would have been kissed goodbye by his own mother, not Ron's?

Lily was near tears by the end of this, and James wasn't feeling much better. Their conviction to change this path Harry had been on suddenly put a cold spin on in it like they'd never have believed. What if they did stop this from happening to their family? Could they still guarantee the same for Neville, put this fate on someone else? Were they condemning another child to this life just to save theirs?

James refused to let himself linger on that, he'd find a way to save his family, Neville, the whole bloody world if he had to! He wasn't going to let this happen again, and he wouldn't hear a thing about it otherwise!

Neville noticed Harry's distraction and asked what was wrong, and Luna inserted she thought there was a Wrackspurt going around.

"Didn't she already mention those?" James demanded with more force than the question called for.

"Not that I've heard, unless you're thinking of the Nargles that were never explained," Remus said lightly.

James hardly heard him any more than he'd realized he'd asked a question.

Then she explained Wrackspurts were invisible, they floated into your ears and made your brain go fuzzy.

"Who knew there was an actual reason for the way Sirius was," Lily halfheartedly poked fun. It really was impossible to get on with just twenty minutes without something depressing dragging them all down of late, even the thought of trying to preserve their own future was doing it now.

Sirius was so distracted he didn't even have a response for her.

She flapped her hands at thin air, as though beating off large invisible moths. Harry and Neville caught each other's eyes and hastily began to talk of Quidditch.

"Which Harry is Captain of!" James burst so loud it was as if he was actively trying to see how loud he could say it.

Harry managed a half-hearted laugh for him, and James kept listening feeling just a bit better he'd managed to shout about something good again.

The weather beyond the train windows was as patchy as it had been all summer; they passed through stretches of the chilling mist, then out into weak, clear sunlight. It was during one of the clear spells, when the sun was visible almost directly overhead, that Ron and Hermione entered the compartment at last.

After greeting them, Ron delivered the news that Malfoy wasn't doing prefect duty.

"He what!" Harry wasn't the only one to shout in surprise, but did keep going, "I didn't even know you could do that."

"I've only known one to," Remus frowned uneasily, "and she had Maledictus, though I don't know what kind. Could barely keep up in the corridors she was so sickly, she certainly didn't want the extra Prefect duties."

Harry had no clue what that was, though understood enough by that to understand it was a sickness you wouldn't want, so instead keep going with determination, "this is proof then! Malfoy is up to something! There's no way he'd give up that power otherwise," he finished with his fist in his hand to prove his point.

"Calm down Harry, nobody in here disagreed with you," Lily half scolded why he was being so adamant about this.

"Right, sorry," he muttered, backing down at once but that triumphant look lingered and James kept going despite his friends still muttering curiously if there could be something else going on.

Harry sat up straight, interested. It was not like Malfoy to pass up the chance to demonstrate his power as prefect, which he had happily abused all the previous year. Harry asked what Malfoy had done when he'd been seen, and Ron said the usual, before demonstrating a rude hand gesture. It wasn't like him, well that was, he did the hand gesture again,

"Was that really necessary, I'm sure we got that all on our own." Lily rolled her eyes.

"He's had his fingers threatened for months, let him enjoy his free range," Sirius chuckled while wagging his own.

but why wasn't he out there bullying first years again.

Harry agreed it was odd, his mind was racing. Didn't this look as though Malfoy had more important things on his mind than bullying younger students?

Hermione pointed out he'd probably preferred the Inquisitorial Squad, and Prefect seemed a bit tame in comparison.

"Not really that crazy," James agreed. "It's almost like he's been demoted after abusing so much power."

Harry looked offended, like he thought he was being dismissed, but forced himself not to snap at him. He was being crazy, they knew something was going on, he didn't need to go shouting at everyone like they were his friends trying to tell him otherwise.

Harry began to disagree before he could expound on his theory, the compartment door slid open again and a breathless third-year girl stepped inside.

"What were you going to say?" Sirius asked.

"Exactly that, I think he's got better things to do this year," Harry sighed, already feeling he had no care for what was fixing to happen and would much rather focus on what he'd been interrupted on. "I was still debating how much farther I was going to keep going though. I trust Neville and Luna of course, but wasn't sure if I was going to tell them what I saw on holiday yet."

"I don't see why not, they know about as much as you do on Malfoy's front, and since you're own friends are driving you nuts, I'm sure at least Luna would have indulged hearing you talk about it," James pointed out.

Harry nodded his agreement, now looking even more agitated by whatever this interruption was.

She was holding out two scrolls of parchment tied with violet ribbon for Neville and Harry. Perplexed, they both took the scroll addressed to each of them and the girl stumbled back out of the compartment.

Ron asked what it was, and Harry explained it as an invitation, not inserting, from Slughorn.

Neville nervously asked why he was invited, as if expecting detention.

"Neville's clearly a name in this future, if to a lesser degree than Harry without all the press. I'm sure Slughorn's heard of his parents anyways," Lily said without surprise.

"Why was Slughorn on the train though?" Harry demanded, he'd been right to be annoyed by this, it seemed pointless already.

"He does it every few years or so, scope out new students and invite the older ones in early, a way to reconnect over the summer before school even kicks in," Lily shrugged.

Harry said no idea, which was not entirely true, though he had no proof yet that his hunch was correct.

"Hasn't seemed to stop you yet," Sirius chucked.

He took the opportunity to ask Neville to come with him under the Cloak, so they could spy on the Slytherin Compartment on the way there.

"I completely forgot now Luna and Neville know about your cloak, as well as Ginny if she didn't before," James blinked in surprise.

"Least Neville's getting a new experience out of this," Sirius grinned.

This idea, however, came to nothing: The corridors, which were packed with people on the lookout for the lunch trolley, were impossible to negotiate while wearing the cloak. Harry stowed it regretfully back in his bag, reflecting that it would have been nice to wear it just to avoid all the staring, which seemed to have increased in intensity even since he had last walked down the train. Every now and then, students would hurtle out of their compartments to get a better look at him. The exception was Cho Chang, who darted into her compartment when she saw Harry coming.

"No love loss there eh?" James couldn't help but tease.

Harry didn't even change colors for this, just shrugged while his mind lingered on other things.

As Harry passed the window, he saw her deep in determined conversation with her friend Marietta, who was wearing a very thick layer of makeup that did not entirely obscure the odd formation of pimples still etched across her face.

Lily couldn't help but frown severely for that. "Honestly, was Hermione's curse permanent? That's well going beyond what the girl deserved, making the decision she did. Did she really ruin another girl's life with that?"

"I really don't think so, it was fading, slowly," Harry shrugged. "Certainly at the end of last year even that wouldn't have hidden it as well, so I'm positive given another month it'll be gone."

Lily still looked a bit tart, but couldn't hold it onto her forever so long as Hermione hadn't. 

Smirking slightly, Harry pushed on.

When they reached compartment C, they saw at once that they were not Slughorn's only invitees, although judging by the enthusiasm of Slughorn's welcome, Harry was the most warmly anticipated.

Slughorn jumped right to his feet, his velvet-covered belly seemed to fill all the remaining space in the compartment. His shiny bald head and great silvery mustache gleamed as brightly in the sunlight as the golden buttons on his waistcoat.

His reaction to Neville was just as cordial if less bouncy.

They didn't need to ask how Harry felt about this, his unimpressed look spoke volumes. He'd no more cottoned onto all Slughorn could offer from Dumbledore's and their own explanations than decided he wanted to master potions.

Neville nodded, looking scared. At a gesture from Slughorn, they sat down opposite each other in the only two empty seats, which were nearest the door. Harry glanced around at their fellow guests. He recognized a Slytherin from their year, a tall black boy with high cheekbones and long, slanting eyes; there were also two seventh-year boys Harry did not know and, squashed in the corner beside Slughorn and looking as though she was not entirely sure how she had got there, Ginny.

"Ouch, how'd Ginny end up in there and not Ron?" Sirius asked.

"I've no idea, but she doesn't seem any more pleased with it than I was," Harry said with a bit of sympathy, wishing he could swap places with Slughorn to at least let Ginny breath a bit.

Slughorn began introducing everyone for those who needed them, starting with Blaise Zabini in their year, of Slytherin.

Zabini did not make any sign of recognition or greeting, nor did Harry or Neville: Gryffindor and Slytherin students loathed each other on principle.

Lily clucked her tongue and rolled her eyes while the boys grinned.

Then there was Cormac McLaggen, perhaps they'd crossed paths already.

Harry then imitated his mother, rolling his eyes heavily and not at all enjoying the sensation telling him he'd rather forget this one all over again.

McLaggen, a large, wiry-haired youth, raised a hand, and Harry and Neville nodded back at him.

That was Marcus Belby who was thin and nervous-looking, gave a strained smile while Slughorn finished they both knew this charming young lady.

Ginny grimaced at Harry and Neville from behind Slughorn's back.

"As welcome a greeting as Zambini's from that," Remus snickered

He had them all sit down and offered them food he'd brought along, the trolley's tendency to stock licorice wands wasn't good for a poor old mans digestive.

"Considering the man's favorite treat is Crystallized Pineapple, I wouldn't hold him to that," Lily said with the same old indulgence she'd used for seven years when speaking to Slughorn. She couldn't believe how much she was enjoying hearing about him again interacting with a new round of students, she felt like she could have been in there chatting along with the whole thing. It was all too easy to picture the man wagging his finger in reprove at her for giving that away already.

Belby accepted what looked like half a cold pheasant from Slughorn, who began asking him about his Uncle Damocles, who'd gained an Order of Merlin. Did he see much of him?

Unfortunately, Belby had just taken a large mouthful of pheasant; in his haste to answer Slughorn he swallowed too fast, turned purple, and began to choke.

Slughorn calmly vanished it with the spell Anapneo, pointing his wand at Belby, whose airway seemed to clear at once.

Belby gasped, his eyes streaming, not much of him.

Slughorn agreed he was a busy man, what with inventing the Wolfsbane Potion.

"Well this conversation just got a lot more interesting," James muttered while Remus shifted around, not sure how to feel about that being brought up again. Considering it had last been spoken of ruining Sirius' life because of him, not ecstatic, but if he could actually find a way to make that a routine part of his life...

Belby, seemed afraid to take another bite of pheasant until he was sure that Slughorn had finished with him and halfheartedly agreed.

"Frightening the kid into not eating, this man really knows how to push buttons," Sirius huffed.

He admitted his didn't get on with his uncle very well, so he really didn't see him at all.

His voice trailed away as Slughorn gave him a cold smile and turned to McLaggen instead.

"And that's Belby gone from the group," James mimed pointing his wand at nothing and blowing it away.

"Because he doesn't keep in contact with an Uncle? He might still be really good at something even so," Harry defended.

"Doesn't have many proper connections though, to get him many places," Lily reminded. "Or he's not yet realized he should be mentioning those."

Slughorn turned towards Cormac then, saying he knew he spent time with his Uncle Tiberius because he'd seen a picture of the two hunting nogtails on his desk in Norfolk.

"Fascinating creatures, I think they should be studied much more than they're given the chance," Remus began babbling at once with a sad little frown that hunting them was such a popular sport.

"You can only run one off with a pure white hound, and they're known to curse the farm they locate to by suckling on a mother pig, but I'd love to see more studies of the extent-"

"Just remember if you bring one of those home, I can't run it off," Sirius rolled his eyes before waving James on while Remus continued muttering to himself.

McLaggen at once agreed that had been great fun, Bertie Higgs and Rufus Scrimgeour had come along as well, before he'd become Minister of course.

Slughorn beamed he knew them as well.

"I think McLaggen just became his new poster child," James scrunched up his face at this kid somehow managing all that, though trying hard not to yet judge him as pompous as the rest of the Slug Club ended up being. Lily of course never went the same way, so he was trying to be mature here.

now offering around a small tray of pies; somehow, Belby was missed out.

Harry huffed and muttered he wished he'd noticed that before he'd swallowed his own.

It was as Harry had suspected. Everyone here seemed to have been invited because they were connected to somebody well-known or influential, except Ginny.

"I'd consider Arthur well-known and influential from what little we've been able to hear about his life," Lily rolled her eyes.

"Maybe Slughorn recognizes he made a mistake missing him and won't do it again with the first female Weasley in seven generations," Remus shrugged.

Zabini, who was interrogated after McLaggen, turned out to have a famously beautiful witch for a mother (from what Harry could make out, she had been married seven times, each of her husbands dying mysteriously and leaving her mounds of gold).

"Right," Sirius grumbled while making a face.

It was Neville's turn next: This was a very uncomfortable ten minutes, for Neville's parents, well-known Aurors, had been tortured into insanity by Bellatrix Lestrange and a couple of Death Eater cronies. At the end of Neville's interview, Harry had the impression that Slughorn was reserving judgment on Neville, yet to see whether he had any of his parents' flair.

All five of them were shifting uncomfortably by the end of this, all knowing Neville didn't need anyone's validation to know how good he was without his parents constantly being brought up, and wished the world would realize that same as Harry.

Slughorn shifted towards Harry last with the air of a compere introducing his star act. He contemplated Harry for a moment as though he was a particularly large and succulent piece of pheasant,

"Lovely mental image," James' scowl increased, he could still distaste Slughorn even while cheering in the background better this than hearing Snape again.

and began with his title of him being the Chosen One.

Harry said nothing. Belby, McLaggen, and Zabini were all staring at him.

When Harry didn't respond Slughorn kept going, saying there had been rumors for years about him, that terrible night, word already was out how extraordinary he was.

Zabini gave a tiny little cough that was clearly supposed to indicate amused skepticism.

"I don't need a Slytherin in the conversation to know when I've heard such loaded dung thank you!" Sirius snapped.

Harry tried for an awkward laugh that couldn't get through, no matter how many times this was mentioned it just wasn't easy to hear.

An angry voice burst out from behind Slughorn, telling Zabini he was so talented with his posing!

Slughorn chuckled comfortably, looking around at Ginny, who was glaring at Zabini around Slughorn's great belly.

"Ginny really is just growing better with every mention," Sirius smirked, cackles smoothing at once at least someone in there would keep them on their toes.

He warned Blaise should be careful, he'd caught this young lady performing quite the Bat-Bogey hex. She wasn't to be crossed.

"Concurred," James needlessly agreed while Harry smirked without surprise.

Zabini merely looked contemptuous.

Slughorn went right back to Harry, open endedly saying the Prophet had been saying a lot, though it was known to make a few mistakes,

"Tiny, minuscule ones, wouldn't even notice them, why bother," Remus snipped for this being so dismissed.

but there was no doubt he'd been in the thick of it all with the disturbance at the Ministry.

Harry, who could not see any way out of this without flatly lying, nodded but still said nothing. Slughorn beamed at him, calling him modest, but there was no need to downplay the sensational stories, of a fabled prophecy even-

Neville interrupted to say that had been smashed, no one had heard it.

"Thank Merlin for Neville," Lily sighed in relief, she'd hug him right now for getting Harry out of that no matter how unentinally.

Ginny agreed at once, the Prophet was just making up things as usual with that Chosen One nonsense.

Slughorn seemed undeterred, looking to both of them with just as much interest they'd been there to. Both of them sat clam-like before his encouraging smile.

"Not going to get a great story out of this one," Sirius sneered.

"Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll forget our invitation along with Belby's," Harry said dully without any real hope.

Finally he agreed how things could get away from people, why Gweong Jones, of the Holyhead Harpies, had just been telling him-

Harry's good mood swung back at once though, for no reason he could tell, he could just imagine for some reason at least Ginny got a kick out of that conversation.

He meandered off into a long-winded reminiscence, but Harry had the distinct impression that Slughorn had not finished with him, and that he had not been convinced by Neville and Ginny.

"A crying shame, I know I'm done with having him around," Sirius mocked with a smirk at Harry.

"Thank's Sirius, it's about time," Harry smiled.

The afternoon wore on with more anecdotes about illustrious wizards Slughorn had taught, all of whom had been delighted to join what he called the "Slug Club" at Hogwarts.

"Really couldn't have picked a worse name," Remus crinkled up his nose.

"Don't know what you're talking about, it speaks volumes about it's members already, certainly the head fat slimy git," James happily tuned Lily in to many of their jokes growing up with this. She merely rolled her eyes and ignored them.

Harry could not wait to leave, but couldn't see how to do so politely.

"I'm starting to regret the fact you even have manners sometimes," Sirius sighed, he knew he'd walked out of there long before this part with Prongs right behind him.

Finally the train emerged from yet another long misty stretch into a red sunset, and Slughorn looked around, blinking in the twilight. Amazed it was sunset, he set them all free, though gave McLaggen in particular the invite to come see him soon for a book on nogtails he'd mentioned. Everyone else except Belby were departed by name.

As he pushed past Harry into the darkening corridor, Zabini shot him a filthy look that Harry returned with interest. He, Ginny, and Neville followed Zabini back along the train.

Neville sighed gratefully that was over, what a strange man.

Harry agreed while asking Ginny how she'd wound up in there.

Ginny shrugged he'd seen her hex Zacharias Smith.

All of them whooped with further laughter, that story just got ten times better.

They remembered that idiot Hufflepuff from the D. A.

"Hard to forget someone with a nose up his own arse," Sirius agreed.

He'd kept on and on asking about what happened at the Ministry and in the end he annoyed her so much she hexed him.

"Perfectly reasonable," James agreed.

When Slughorn came in she'd thought she was going to get detention, but he just thought it was a really good hex and invited her to lunch! Mad, eh?

"Best reason he's ever invited anyone to those things!" Remus disagreed.

Harry loudly said it was better than being invited along because of a famous mother, his eyes still on Zabini's back.

"I'm glad you agree Harry," Sirius said with such enthusiasm he didn't even take his crack at pointing out the two had essentially said the same thing.

Then he stopped, an idea occurring to him, a reckless but potentially wonderful idea...

"You seem to get those a lot," Lily sighed.

"I blame you," James happily told his wife. "Whenever I got them, a corridor just got filled with all the suits of armor in the castle. Whenever you got them, you put yourself in the hospital wing for a potion experiment, so it's really all you he gets it from."

"I resent that," she halfheartedly defended, "I never went about spying on anyone for fun, that was far more up your alley!"

"Fine then, he gets it from both of you being insane," Sirius happily inserted. James seemed satisfied enough to go onto the actual idea while Lily made a face at him.

In a minute's time, Zabini was going to reenter the Slytherin sixth-year compartment and Malfoy would be sitting there,

"Why on Earth would you think that?" Remus blinked in surprise. "Does he hang around with Malfoy often? You well know the students don't get their own compartments by grade and house."

"I saw them all in there all the other years, they tended to band together," Harry defended. "Sorry I've never mentioned it before."*

thinking himself unheard by anybody except fellow Slytherins... If Harry could only enter, unseen, behind him, what might he not see or hear?

"Them all congratulating themselves for being part of the an elite human species. Idiots." Sirius told Harry in disbelief.

"Or something like what Malfoy's up to," Harry said pointedly.

"Narcissa made it clear this was top secret information, Bellatrix was surprised when Snape knew," Lily reminded. "So Malfoy's not likely to be blabbing it around."

"I didn't know that at the time," Harry reminded. "I just wanted proof of what he was doing."

"You might get something then, you are fairly good at picking up on details," James went on curiously.

True, there was little of the journey left, Hogsmeade Station had to be less than half an hour away, judging by the wildness of the scenery flashing by the windows, but nobody else seemed prepared to take Harry's suspicions seriously,

Sirius at once insisted, "I'm telling you, I'd totally believe you!"

"I know Sirius," Harry said quietly, trying to force a laugh again, but now all the more determined he could pull off something he was sure the Marauders would approve of, no matter how much they thought it a goofy idea at the beginning.

so it was down to him to prove it.

Quickly telling the other two he'd catch up later, he slipped on the Cloak and hurried away before either could ask why. Darting after Zabini as quietly as possible, though the rattling of the train made such caution almost pointless, the corridors were almost completely empty now. Nearly everyone had returned to their carriages to change into their school robes and pack up their possessions. Though he was as close as he could get to Zabini without touching him, Harry was not quick enough to slip into the compartment when Zabini opened the door. Zabini was already sliding it shut when Harry hastily stuck out his foot to prevent it closing.

He angrily began smashing the door repeatedly on Harry's foot.

Harry let out a hiss of breath in remembered pain, shifting his foot uncomfortably, and ignoring the almost pitying look of those around him. He didn't want to hear what better idea they would have come up with to avoid that happening, but Sirius gave it anyways. "It's too bad you didn't bring an extendable ear with you, or even just manage to leave a crack in the door they wouldn't have noticed. Then you could have stayed on the outside and avoided this problem of actually slipping in."

"You lot just come up with the best strategies sitting around comfortably in here," Harry grumbled, though admittedly he was just as sure they would have come up with that on the spot, they'd trained their minds to think up such on the spot lies and solutions, as they so constantly reminded him.

Harry seized the door and pushed it open, hard; Zabini, still clinging on to the handle, toppled over sideways into Gregory Goyle's lap, and in the ensuing ruckus, Harry darted into the compartment, leapt onto Zabini's temporarily empty seat, and hoisted himself up into the luggage rack. It was fortunate that Goyle and Zabini were snarling at each other, drawing all eyes onto them, for Harry was quite sure his feet and ankles had been revealed as the cloak had flapped around them; indeed, for one horrible moment he thought he saw Malfoy's eyes follow his trainer as it whipped upward out of sight. But then Goyle slammed the door shut and flung Zabini off him; Zabini collapsed into his own seat looking ruffled, Vincent Crabbe returned to his comic, and Malfoy, sniggering, lay back down across two seats with his head in Pansy Parkinsons lap.

"That right there was almost worth the price you going in," Sirius laughed heartily, imaging all those dumbfounded expressions for this happening.

"I'm now regretting not pulling more stunts on the train like doors randomly opening, would have been a kick," James agreed.

"Best we didn't, wouldn't want the trolley lady giving us hell if she caught us," Remus pointed out. "She might have withheld snacks from us," he finished with a horrified look.

"I wouldn't put it past her to tell McGonagall though, so I guess it's best," Sirius sighed.

Harry lay curled uncomfortably under the cloak to ensure that every inch of him remained hidden, and watched Pansy stroke the sleek blond hair off Malfoy's forehead, smirking as she did so, as though anyone would have loved to have been in her place.

Lily in particular had a crude look on her face, that sounded like a punishment, pampering such a toerag.

The lanterns swinging from the carriage ceiling cast a bright light over the scene: Harry could read every word of Crabbe's comic directly below him.

Malfoy casually asked of Zabini what Slughorn had wanted, and while still glowering at Goyle he answered their new teacher was just trying to make up with well-connected people. Not that he'd managed to find many.

Malfoy was clearly displeased with that information, demanding who all had been invited?

"Not him? Oh, the horror!" Sirius managed a simpering impression of a teenage girl.

"The horrifying part is, he might have actually got one the year before his father lost so much favor," James crinkled his face in disgust.

McLaggen from Gryffindor, Zabini began listing off,

"I didn't realize he was a Gryffindor," Lily said in surprise.

"Shows how much Harry pays attention to even his fellow students in his house," James shrugged without much concern, though there hadn't yet been anything wrong with him, it was still annoying he'd been a prime example of everything wrong with that Club.

-Malfoy agreed he had a big Uncle in the Ministry-

Belby, from Ravenclaw, Zabini continued-

Pansy referred to him as a prat.

"Been liking him more and more lately on principle," Remus rolled his eyes.

Zabini finished with the last three Gryffindors.

Malfoy sat up very suddenly, knocking Pansy's hand aside, demanding Longbottom had been invited!

"I really am glad Neville outranks me on the scale of his outrage," Harry shook his head.

Zabini indifferently agreed he assumed so, since he'd been there.

Malfoy demanded what about Longbottom had Slughorn interested?

Zabini shrugged.

Malfoy went on to sneer about Potter, that was obvious, him being the Chosen One.

Then Harry sighed without surprise that had come soon after. He'd have to be sure to mention to Neville he wasn't in fact the person Malfoy hated most though, perhaps he'd get lucky and Neville would put Malfoy in a dress and feathered hat for him next.

That Weasley girl though, what was so special about her?

Pansy pointed out a lot of boys liked her, obviously watching Malfoy for a reaction.

Harry felt his blood start boiling at once at the idea, that was ridiculous! Of course Ginny was good looking, but surely Pansy was just being her usual pugnacious self!

Even Blaise had mentioned how good-looking she was, and they all knew how hard he was to please.

"Her exact sentiments as well I'm sure," Sirius rolled his eyes while Lily giggled a bit at the expression on her sons face, he looked far more agitated by this than she would have thought. He really must have grown fond of her over the summer.

Zabini coldly replied he wouldn't touch a filthy little blood traitor no matter what she looked like.

"Well at least he won't turn out like his mother," Remus snarked.

Pansy looked pleased. Malfoy sank back across her lap and allowed her to resume the stroking of his hair.

"Allowed her," James couldn't help but repeat that like speaking of curdled milk, it really was odd to think of Malfoy having a girlfriend.

Malfoy decided he didn't think much of Slughorn's taste in all, a shame, as his father had spoken of him highly in his old days. Slughorn probably just hadn't heard he was on the train-

Zabini cut in to point out Slughorn didn't seem to have an interest in Death Eaters, Nott hadn't gotten an invitation either.

"The one good thing that man has going for him," Sirius sighed.

"As if they need a way to make more connections," James agreed solemnly.

Malfoy looked angry, but forced out a singularly humorless laugh. Deciding who cared then, he was just some stupid teacher.

Remus went wide eyed in mock concern. "Of course! Now next time, try backtracking before you go out of your way to show how much you care, it'll come off much better."

"Why couldn't you be on the train again Moony," Sirius muttered.

Malfoy yawned ostentatiously before declaring he might not even be at Hogwarts next year, what did it matter.

"Considering I already had my fingers crossed he wouldn't be there this year, I refuse to get my hopes up again," James grumbled.

Pansy indignantly demanded what he meant by that, ceasing grooming Malfoy at once.

He just smirked when he told he'd soon be moving on to bigger and better things.

Harry perked up with interest in the conversation again, easily distracted from picturing Ginny releasing a few more Bat-Bogey Hexes in this compartment again. This was exactly what he'd been in there to hear!

Crouched in the luggage rack under his cloak, Harry's heart began to race. What would Ron and Hermione say about this?

"Probably dismiss it again," Harry pessimistically answered himself.

"They haven't dismissed anything love," Lily patiently corrected, clearly determined to stop him griping about this. "They just need more to go on than you. It's not that they don't believe you, they know you're right, they're just not as convinced it's as terrible as you seem to think."

Harry looked simmered at least, though not at all comforted he hadn't found himself as wrong as he found her right.

Crabbe and Goyle were gawping at Malfoy; apparently they had had no inkling of any plans to move on to bigger and better things. Even Zabini had allowed a look of curiosity to mar his haughty features.

"Praise Merlin!" Sirius mock raised a glass.

"I'm not thankful we don't have to hear about him more, as if we needed to hear of more smug expressions," Remus told him with an obvious look Sirius happily ignored.

Pansy resumed the slow stroking of Malfoy's hair, looking dumbfounded.

Clearly enjoying the attention, Malfoy continued his mother wanted him to complete his education, but did the Dark Lord care about N. E. W. T. grades? Of course not, it was about service and devotion that mattered when the time came.

"I really hate it when he's not wrong," James sighed.

"At least he's right in all the wrong ways," Sirius said with mock chipper.

Zabini scathingly returned Malfoy thought himself a fully qualified wizard to be doing anything like that.

Malfoy returned maybe the job he was going for didn't require a fully qualified adult.

James hadn't meant for his voice to go so quiet at the end, but he certainly hadn't been expecting Malfoy to bring up something so casually that had reduced his mother to tears and pleading.

Narcissa hadn't been joking when she'd said Malfoy was eager to be doing this. Maybe not anytime soon, but even then Malfoy was impling whatever this job was wasn't far off in the future.

Crabbe and Goyle were both sitting with their mouths open like gargoyles. Pansy was gazing down at Malfoy as though she had never seen anything so awe inspiring.

The moment was broken by Sirius snorting viciously and snapping, "here I thought she'd get that expression any time she tried to look in a mirror without breaking one!"

"Those poor deluded kids have no idea what they're hearing," Lily gave a resounded agreement.

Malfoy then chose to change the subject by pointing out he could see the castle in the distance, and got up to get his robes.

Harry was so busy staring at Malfoy, he did not notice Goyle reaching up for his trunk; as he swung it down, it hit Harry hard on the side of the head. He let out an involuntary gasp of pain, and Malfoy looked up at the luggage rack, frowning.

"Uhoh," all five of them muttered in unease. Harry was pinned with five against one, that wouldn't be a friendly fight even with his slight advantage of getting the first surprise attack in.

Harry was not afraid of Malfoy, but he still did not much like the idea of being discovered hiding under his Invisibility Cloak by a group of unfriendly Slytherins. Eyes still watering and head still throbbing, he drew his wand, careful not to disarrange the cloak, and waited, breath held. To his relief, Malfoy seemed to decide that he had imagined the noise; he pulled on his robes like the others, locked his trunk, and as the train slowed to a jerky crawl, fastened a thick new traveling cloak round his neck.

Harry could see the corridors filling up again and hoped that Hermione and Ron would take his things out onto the platform for him;

"I have no doubt they'll grab Hedwig for you," Lily distractedly agreed, wishing he'd get out of there already, but knowing he had to wait anyways for them all to leave. It was only a slight relief Malfoy hadn't noticed anything, but they were all acutely aware now how much trouble Harry could have potentially gotten himself into, and it wasn't much fun now.

he was stuck where he was until the compartment had quite emptied. At last, with a final lurch, the train came to a complete halt. Goyle threw the door open and muscled his way out into a crowd of second years, punching them aside;

"It's good to know they really are as terrible as the one they follow around," James rolled his eyes.

Crabbe and Zabini followed, but Malfoy had to wave Pansy out, saying he wanted to check on something.

Pansy left. Now Harry and Malfoy were alone in the compartment. People were filing past, descending onto the dark platform. Malfoy moved over to the compartment door and let down the blinds, so that people in the corridor beyond could not peer in. He then bent down over his trunk and opened it again.

The others perked up with interest at once, thinking that would have been worth it if they could know something so early of what Malfoy was up to, while Harry sank back uneasily in his seat, not at all getting a good feeling about this.

Harry peered down over the edge of the luggage rack, his heart pumping a little faster. What had Malfoy wanted to hide from Pansy? Was he about to see the mysterious broken object it was so important to mend?

He was not expecting the spell Petrificus Totalus to be shot right at him.**

Sirius was so surprised a spell had come out of James' mouth he accidentally drew his wand and shot a hex right back at him, causing the book to sail away along with his glasses.

"Really Sirius? Was that necessary?" Remus asked him as James scowled and summoned them back.

"You were just as thrown by that as I was!" Sirius defended.

"Least I didn't try to throw him across the room for it," Remus rolled his eyes.

Lily had yelped in surprise and tried to jump away from James, they'd all startled hard at a spell of all things coming out of his mouth!

"Bloody hell, I take it back!" James groaned as he gazed at that and back to his son, unphased by his best mate, eyes only on his kid. "Don't you ever do this again without backup!"

Harry just nodded with a resigned expression in place, he wasn't looking forward to the shock wearing off and all of them realizing he'd just been bested by Malfoy!

Without warning, Malfoy pointed his wand at Harry, who was instantly paralyzed. As though in slow motion, he toppled out of the luggage rack and fell, with an agonizing, floor-shaking crash, at Malfoy's feet, the Invisibility Cloak trapped beneath him, his whole body revealed with his legs still curled absurdly into the cramped kneeling position. He couldn't move a muscle; he could only gaze up at Malfoy, who smiled broadly.

Lily groaned and put her face in her hands, while the boys as well looked miserable for how this was going to go. Harry would be lucky to leave with tentacles on his face, for all the revenge Malfoy could give of the past few train rides.

Malfoy jubilantly declared he'd known as much, he'd heard Goyle's trunk hit him and seen his shoes when he'd come in.

"Pity he's really not as stupid as he looks," Sirius ground out, clutching his wand tight and wishing more every second he could retaliate in some way against someone who deserved it.

He continued Potter hadn't heard anything he cared about, but just for good measure, he stamped hard on Harry's face. Harry felt his nose break; blood spurted everywhere.***

Harry couldn't help but cover his nose now, his face still leary of what was to come next, while James hissed in outrage for an extra moment before noticing this part was almost done. He couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not.

That was for his father. Malfoy dragged the cloak out from under Harry's immobilized body and threw it over him, deciding no one would be looking for him until he was back in London. Guess he wouldn't be seeing him around.

And taking care to tread on Harry's fingers, Malfoy left the compartment.

Not, most definitely not!

"Of all the cowardly, black-hearted things to do!" Sirius snarled in outrage. "He's just going to leave you there!"

"I- what's going to happen to me!" Harry demanded in a panic. It had certainly been funny enough to do the same to Malfoy back at Nine and Three-Quarters the past two years, but not at Hogsmeade station!

"I, honestly have no clue, never tried," James groaned as he passed Sirius the book, no one looking forward to finding out.

HPHPHP

*The Hand of Glory and this are both guilty of just randomly inserting things that apparently should have been common knowledge. Zabini hangs around Malfoy though he's never been mentioned since his sorting, Malfoy just apparently has a hand of Glory though it was mentioned all of one time in book two Malfoy certainly didn't own. I feel like this was one of those moments JK just made up something on the spot and obviously by this point didn't have a chance to go back and put in, leaving me unable to help noticing both of these would very obviously be important later. One out of two was.

** I think JK meant Stupify, as that one paralyzes you the way you are, where as Petrificus Totalus has all your limbs snapping together before you do the same.

***Four people to do with that Prophecy have their noses broken. Voldemort doesn't have one, Neville got his broken last year in the Department of Mysteries, Dumbledore by Aberforth all those years ago, and now Harry here. If something had happened to Trelawney's nose, I would have thought it was some curse of Prophecy type thing for this to happen.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Stalemate.”

An update on the Burg war :) Hope you like. 

“Commander be advised, more Burg ships have appeared from warp.”

“Shit, how many.”

“I uh….they don’t know sir, but they say it has to be an entire fleet.”

“Damn it.” The darkfire banked a hard right and began angling upwards. McCaster did his best to get information on the battle proceeding above their heads, though most of the information was garbled and confused.

The dogfight above the Gromm city hadn’t lasted more than a few minutes, and while there were still burg drones about, the commander clearly trusted the other pilots to take care of this mess.

They had lost three jets over the course of the battle, which was a surprisingly expensive ad large percentage of their flight budget in the UNSC, of course he ws sure the commander was less worried about the monetary cost as much as he was worried about the cost of lives. 

Six pilots dead, and more sure to follow.

McCaster’s stomach dropped back against his spin as the commander cut the jet engines and switched to fusion. The switch was so quick that he only  had a momentary feeling of free fall before they were rocketed back skyward cutting through the atmosphere and breaking into the dark reaches of space, the eggshell blue of the sky fading about them until darkness and the vast universe beyond unfolded before them.

A universe that was now besieged by silent explosions and eruptions of short lived fire immediately snuffed by the vacuum of space. Debris flew in all directions, and even the commander was having a hell of a time keeping from exploding cutting this way and that, pulling maneuvers that shouldn’t have been possible  slicing between two parallel pieces of floating metal so close that McCaster could see the individual rivets running down its silver length.

Cutting past that, the commander pulled down bringing them in a stomach churning dive before moving back upwards, pressing them back into their seats.

Ahead of them chaos was unloading, the GA on one side and the burg on the other. Ordinance flew back and forth, and, as they watched,  stuck and unable to do anything to help, one of the burg ships cut around from the side and tagged one of the UNSC vessels, with a round straight to the port side.

There was a silent explosion, fire ripped through the inside of the hull as oxygen was quickly consumed. The ship listed heavily to one side.

“Fuck! Who was that! Get me a casualty report NOW!” The commander ordered.

McCaster rushed to do as told, but was having trouble with all the comms interference. As they watched, little pods began breaking away from the ailing ship, most of them coming from the breached decks as panicked crew-members fled to the escape pods.

One escape pod was completely annihilated by a passing piece of debris, popping like a popcorn kernel does in a microwave, ripping open and sending bodies flipping like rag-dolls out into the vastness.

McCaster grew sick just thinking about what dying like that would have felt like. Freezing to death as all the glasses slowly boiled from your blood. He hoped that they were all to dead to think about what had happened to them.

“That was the UNSC Esperanca, commander. Captain Silva is not responding, and all coms to the bridge crew have been cut. GA rescue teams are being dispatched casualties are estimated in the hundreds.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” The man continued to cure wildly, “Radio in to the harbinger.”

“Yes sir.”

He connected the coms link so the commander could speak freely, though he was rather concerned about the man’s ability to fly and talk at the same time.

They rotated to the side, executing a tight barrel roll and dive taking them out of the line of a fast moving group of space debris which threatened to pop their ship like a can opener and expose the two of them like a couple of sardines.

“Commander.”

“Tell me what’s happening.”

“The burg brought in a second surprise fleet to back up their first. The Burg command ship has landed planetside just outside the central city, and ground troops are making a march for the capital city. Captain Silva is in contact, and unharmed, but the ship is heavily damaged. Casualty report is up to 220 from all ships 150 of those being from Silva’s crew, and the death toll is rising as we speak. Sunny has dispatched marine drop troops to deal with the burg invasion of the capital city.”

The commander had to stop talking for a moment, as a burg vessel dropped in behind them. The commander cursed again rather violently before bringing them straight towards the debris field. McCaster hopped on the under-wing guns shooting away any piece of debris that he could manage flying as fast as they were.

Again, the commander proved his metal, cutting through the field with only inches to spare leaving the burg drone in pieces behind them.

A couple more GA ships popped into view.

“Get silva to fall back, have some of the GA vessels form a protective perimeter around their ship, I don’t want anyone else getting killed, have them fall back and wait for assistance. Do we know of any GA ship that is capable of multiple microwarps without overheating?’”

There was a long pause.

“Sunny says that the Rundi ships should be able to do at least ten before it becomes dangerous.”

“Alright, new plan, have the rundi ships alternate micro warp behind the enemy fleet, have them take a shot and then warp out, then have the next ship do the same but in a different location. Aim for one ship at a time if you can, or be random if it looks like they are catching on. Pair each of our fleet with one of the Rundi vessels and have them communicate with each other about the micro warps. Let's see if we can’t flank them. Try to hit them at the same time then use the rundi shields to block our unshielded vessels between bouts.”

“Yes sir.”

“And lieutenant?”

“Yes sir?”

“Can you hold the ship or do you need me to return.”

“I have it commander, you do what you need to do.”

“I have a better eye from up here.”

“Good, sir.”

The commander kept the line open listening to the general chatter of the battle. While they watched, the Rundi ships fell back into formation with the four remaining human vessels, while the tesraki ships pulled back to protect the limping remains of the Esperanca.

A body rolled past their window, face pale and cold in death.

The commander kept his cool though.

The burg Ships were still firing, but now the Rundi ships were taking the brunt of the attacks, their superior shields lighting up in shades of blue.

One of the ships vanished leaving it’s human counterpart open to fire, however as the Burg were gearing up to take a shot, the rundi ship appeared behind them. There was a pause as the ships seemed to be deciding what to do, during which time both the human and the rundi ships took that moment to take their shots.

It was a dangerous maneuver, for if either one of them missed the could potentially send their ordinance into friendly territory, but it worked for the time being, and an explosion rocked the leftmost side of the burg hull ripping three decks open to bare space.

Bodies were sucked out into the void and tossed like ragdolls into floating objects.

The rundi ship vanished and appeared back before the human ship just as the burg began to fire.

The rundi shields were not looking great, but another pairing was ready to dot the same taking the focus off the first ship for the time being.

“Commander, Commander.” The garbled voice rushed over the radio marred by the sound of explosions in the background, and shouting.

“Go.” The man ordered taking the ship into a steep incline locking onto one of the burg drones and erupting it into a ball of flame.

“Sir, This is Ramirez with the ground forces. The burg have deployed ground transport and artillery units and are advancing towards the city. We have made a protective perimeter, but our weapons arent going to do shit against those ground units.”

“Sending in air support. Hold tight Ramirez.”

He turned back to the coms and requested bombers to be deployed to the surface.

“What do they want with the capital city?”

McCaster wasn’t exactly aware of alien politics and so couldn't help but asking.

“The Gromm homeworld is the center hub for trade in the galaxy. Each of the home worlds has a warp disruptor that doesn't allow direct warp into a solar system unless authorized. The Gromm capital city holds the coding software that allows this to work, considering it needs access to almost all planets in Andromeda and, by extension, earth as well. We cannot let them get access to that information or else they can easily move in for an attack on any one of us. The rundi homeworld, the Tesraki, humans.” 

They cut around the side of the burg ship.

And the commander kept an eye out in the field for something he knew he wasn’t likely to spot.

“Conn, Conn, are you there, can you hear me.”

There was silence, and for a moment the commander thought the worst.

“Right here captain, though I would appreciate if you told everyone to stop blowing each other up for a few minutes. That would make my life much easier.”

He ignored the snark for the moment, “Have you managed to get close enough to hear them?”

“Mmm only close enough to get general impression. If I get any closer, I run the risk of getting exploded, and right now I am already at risk of being chopped in half, which I am not highly appreciative of.”

“What if we came, picked you up, and flew you past. Could you do it then?”

“I could probably manage that. Sending you my location now.”

McCaster hadn’t heard the conversation for obvious reasons, and so was confused as the commander pealed away from formation and started heading straight towards the burg fleet line. 

Luckily the larger ships didn’t consider one lone jet enough of a worry to actually fire at them, though the burg drones were eager for blood. The commander pulled some risky maneuvers, cutting through fields of metal, and maneuvering two drones to crash into each other.

He ordered McCaster to follow a beacon into the debris field, and with his help they were able to maneuver further in, slowing greatly and hiding their signature as they turned off the engine and coasted for a bit. They were going very slowly now, cutting through an eerie junkyard of mingled bodies and the skeletal remains of ships. A rundi corpse gently bounced off their right wind and went tumbling away into nothing.

McCaster was looking around for the beacon assuming they were after a ship of some sort, when there was a clatter atop the canopy. Of course there was no sound from outside, but the reverberations through the air on the inside of the canopy made him look up.

And immediately almost peed himself.

The black eyed- leering face seemed quite amused with his near panic attack, white ribbons billowing out from behind it, as it settled itself into place at the back of the canopy.

“Sorry McCaster, forgot to mention we were coming to pick up a friend.”

“Friend my ass.” he muttered under his breath, looking back at the still leering face.

They began a slow creep towards the burg ship, keeping low and below their enemy.

It was a strange angle , hard to remember that in space there was movement in almost any direction. Generally speaking all of the burg and GA ships were on the same grid level, so their approaching presence was hardly noticed. Burg drones hung about the outside of the enemy ship so this was about as close as they planned on getting.

“How about here, this is about as close as I can get you.”

“Mmmm, it may take a few minutes, there is only so much I can do between bouts of screaming. 

Their faces were lit a moment later by the fiery glow of another explosion, silent and dead in the vacuum of space.

Everything around them was eerily quiet.

“Well, shit.”

“Don’t give me that conn, tell me what’s going on now!”

“Might want to hurry up commander. This little space battle is simply a diversion for the real plan happening on the surface. Those artillery guns aren't just artillery. Some of the rounds have data nets on them, and may be able to hijack the pertinent information without them even getting into the city, if they land one close enough. I would wager to say you have ten minutes.”

“Shit!” 

What followed was sincerely the most insane and terrifying thing that McCaster had ever experienced. The commander flew like a madman, cutting duck rolling and spinning through the debris field with drones hot on their heels all while on the radio yelling for all air units to target their fire on the burg artillery. He probably would have ordered all the ships to break off and use orbital targeting as well, but they were too close to the burg city for that, and too close to the marines who were valiantly impending the burg efforts.

Luckily for them a single one of those data rounds would have to hit an exact target in order to work, but the closer they got the more likely  it would become.

Jets whizzed around the city shooting ordinance from the sky when they could.

The data rounds had to be slow in order to remain in tact for the flight down, so that was one advantage they had. 

All remaining bombers and jets were ordered down to earth, with the burg drones peeling off behind them.

The freaky alien, Conn let them go just as they were about to fall into orbit ribbons billowing out about him as they vanished into the distance rocketing towards earth at fenominal speeds. The fire licked up at their wings again, but this time McCaster knew what to expect.

He moved himself to the under-wing guns determined to help in any way he could.

They were approaching the ground fast, and an entire formation of aircraft rolled in one mass dogfight over the scene below as burg drones fought aggressively to protect their precious artillery units. The Burg command ship lobbed Anti-Air missiles into the sky causing one darkfire to erupt into a ball of flame.

McCaster though they were going to join another formation of jets heading towards the artillery units, but was surprised when the Commander continued their dive the ground approaching at a stunning speed.

This time he held himself conscious as the commander pulled out of the dive, at the last possible moment. They were going so low, that the power of their engines kicked up a trail of dust behind them knocking burg soldiers to the ground as they marched.

AA guns were useless against them as they careened towards the artillery line.

The wing guns fired repeatedly tearing up the ground, and sending burg bodies erupting in all directions.

The commander narrowed his sights, locking on, and then fired, before peeling off and pulling up. The right wing of their jet was so close to the ground, it clipped the top of a tall shrub sending plant bits in all directions, though it made no difference as the shrub erupted into momentary flames as the explosion reached it.

McCaster tried not to think about how close they had come to dying, and was reminded seconds later when a burg drone, which had been following them from their dive, rammed into the ground exploding just as violently and taking out a second piece of friendly artillery.

Burg bodies were thrown to the ground in the ensuing explosion, remaining cold and still.

One of their bombers was clipped hard in the wing, and went down with an explosion.

A white parachute opened after a moment only to be torn up by an incoming burg drone, with no qualms about shooting a man while he was defenseless.

The commander made sure it was the last move that drone ever took. 

Back towards the city more troop transports were dropping soldiers onto the front line. Marines, rundi and Tesraki soldiers were spilling from open pods setting up a defense line around the city. The Gromm were doing what they could to assist though their military technology was rudimentary at best.

“They almost have the nexus back online!”

As it turned out the Burg were well aware of this fact, at at least twenty incoming burg ships cut into atmosphere and were forced to descend to land, creating a defensible position around the burg command ship just as  as the nexus went back up

A large, translucent amber dome erupted about the ground where the burg ships were stationed locking them into place with their own shields.

The drones fell back to defend the position, leaving the exhausted pilots to circle around the perimeter unable to get close to the well defended position.

On rundi pilot made the mistake and was immediately shot from the sky.

Overhead, friendly forces had made a defensive perimeter of the Nexus and the remaining burg ships had fallen back leading everything to a standstill. They could do nothing about the burg ships already on the planet for fear of hurting the civilian population.

As for now, the battle had come to its conclusion as a draw, though the war was far form over. 

[f-nodragonart]

Vertebrate Wings, PART 6: Details

Return to main post + TOC >>HERE<<

Details TOC

  Elbow Spines

  Wrist Spikes

  Palms

  Thumbs

Elbow Spines

I was admittedly a LOT more anal about elbow spines in the past. No way no how, I didn’t accept elbow spines in any way, shape, or form. Nowadays, I’m simply wary of elbow spines. I still believe whole-heartedly that a proper wing will have enough membrane stability and surface area all on its own, without the need for an elbow spine. BUT I can absolutely see the aesthetic charm in certain designs, and elbow spines can make sense if designed properly.

The interesting thing is that there ARE real-life “flying” animals with elbow spines—anomalures.

(I honestly wish I had skeletals to show off but I can’t find any, so if anyone has anomalure skeletal photos/diagrams I’d greatly appreciate it)

Technically these animals can’t “fly” but glide, much like the similar (but not necessarily related) flying squirrels, who also happen to have ‘spines’ at their wrists.

Even the recently discovered Yi Qi could be used as comparison, with their highly-elongated wrist spines.

Despite these real-life animals with wing spines supporting their membranes, there are still ways to do wing spines wrong, so keep these tips in mind if you want to add elbow spines to your creature’s membranous wings:

  1)      Animals with these spines are GLIDERS

The living animals with similar spines—flying squirrels and anomalures—are gliders, NOT powered flyers. IE—these animals don’t flap or otherwise move their arms/legs in very complicated motions; their limbs/spines are almost exclusively built to keep the membrane taut during gliding. While we can’t know of the Yi Qi’s specific style of flight at this point, I have reason to believe they were also gliders, not flyers. Again, I can’t prove this for certain, it’s just what I can reason out from what’s currently available about the species.

Either way, evidence points to the idea that these sorts of spines (at least supporting the main body of a membrane—yes I know about pteroids) are exclusively found on gliders, not powered flyers. This makes sense, given that spines don’t have joints, so they wouldn’t give membranes NEARLY the same flexibility and precision as fingers. But since gliders don’t necessarily need that kind of precision, this doesn’t hinder their “flight”.

Now, this fact on its own doesn’t negate the possibility of elbow spines on a powered flyer, but it is a cautionary reminder to take proper integration into account, which the following points will describe.

  2)      Spines are NOT fingers

Elbow spines are not endemic to arm structures—the structures wings evolved from. Thus, an elbow spine would have had to evolve into a wing design for the express purpose of membrane stability and/or widening the membrane surface area.

There is absolutely zero reason an elbow spine would have a claw, pad, or otherwise be implied to be a modified finger. Fingers are based exclusively on the hands (and feet, if you want to get technical), and would NOT migrate down to the elbows just to expand the wing membrane. Hell, even most of the ACTUAL fingers of bat wings don’t have any claws (besides the thumb of course) because claws on the tips of wing fingers are usually useless, since there’s no feasible way to use them for clinging, digging, or scratching purposes. Plus, claws/padding add unnecessary weight to the tips of the wing fingers, which SHOULD be the thinnest/lightest part of the wings, sans open membrane. Claws are only really useful on the shortest, front-facing fingers of bat wings.

However, I will acquiesce that jointed spines aren’t entirely unbelievable. I personally don’t know of any real-life animal with jointed spines, but I don’t think that joints would be necessarily exclusive to fingers. Unlike claws or pads, joints would provide a distinct purpose to the wing by allowing the spines more malleability and delicate control of the wing membrane shape.

  3)      Try not to interrupt the elbow joint

Again, I would appreciate an anomalure skeleton here in order to see exactly where the elbow spine attaches on the arm, but I guess we’ll have to wait on that.

Sans the anomalure (whose elbow structure is impossible to see under the fur), I don’t know of any cases of real-life animals with 3 different, independently-moving bones sharing the same joint (I’m not counting wrists/ankles here considering the specialty of the carpal/tarsal-based joints).

As it is now, I advise caution when placing the base of the spine at the elbow. It may certainly work, especially if the underlying bone/cartilage base of the spine “floats” a little ways away from the elbow itself, as can be seen in this EXCELLENT Dragon skeletal by Sammy Torres, yet again--

But please, do NOT slot the elbow spine directly INTO the joint between the upper and lower arm.  

This would block the range of joint flexibility and important muscular connections between the upper and lower arm.

  4)      Try to form a paddle

As explained in the Membranes and Feathers section, a bird’s remiges are ONLY based in the bone of the lower arm and hand sections. This helps to form a more stable “paddle” out of these sections of the wing, while other feathers (tertials, axillaries) simply close the gap between the body and the remiges.

While feathers shouldn’t be conflated with membranes, I think in this instance they provide a decent reference for spine placement, since many birds are powered flyers. Thus, if the spine isn’t based at the elbow, I think basing the spine on the lower arm just past the elbow itself would work just fine.

Either way, definitely DON’T put a spine on the UPPER arm—it would just be useless. The membrane is already so close to the body on the upper arm (considering how short the upper arm typically is compared to the lower arm) that any extra stability or widening of the membrane isn’t going to do much good. Plus, it would be rather uncomfortable to fold a spine against the body on the upper arm.

Wrist Spikes

(Not to be confused with spines, which I use to refer to projections that support a membrane. See above sub-section for those)

This is yet another anatomical detail I was MUCH more anal about in the past, before learning that many real-life birds actually do have wrist spikes called wing spurs (and clubs, spikes, etc.).

Some have even retained claws on the ends of their fingers.

The claws are the easiest to understand—they’re retained from birds’ clawed ancestors. The spikes and spurs, however, are a bit novel to our human understanding of anatomy, as they can sprout from the metacarpals, carpals, or even the radius of the arm!

The takeaway here is that these spurs/clubs/etc. are used exclusively as weapons (whether against their own or other species). Thus, they are firmly based on an already-present bone (either the carpal, metacarpal, or radius), and don’t move independently. They don’t provide any help in clinging, nor can they fold up against the wing like bat thumbs.

(I highly recommend checking out Darren Naish’s articles on wing spurs if you want a much more in-depth analysis of wing spurs in different bird species)

Just keep the basic anatomy of the hand in mind if you add wrist spikes. For example, if your wing has a thumb, then you’d likely need to base the spike on the radius rather than the wrist bones, or else the spike would interfere with thumb movement. Also be careful not to interrupt the front-edge membrane when adding wrist spikes—wings still need that membrane to function, whether they’re being used for battle or not.

Palms

Now I know I said in the Basic Anatomy section that bats don’t have palms-- just wrists carpals and extra-long fingers. This is likely because of what I discussed in that section about proportions-- the longer bones forming bases of the fingers provide stability to the fingers, while the carpals simply hold all the fingers together at one point, allowing for rotation and flexibility. A proper palm may end up destabilizing the wing, since the base of the hand needs long-bone stability, but the bones of the palm would be shorter than the bases of the fingers.

However, this is merely a possibility-- while palms aren’t technically accurate to real-life bats, I don’t think they’re necessarily impossible, if designed right.

Namely, we need to keep in mind weight and shape.

The wing palm should NOT be too thick/wide relative to the wing arm, since the overall mass of the wing thins out across the arm, from shoulder to wrist. thus, if you slap a heavy palm on the end of the wing, it’ll throw off the whole balance of the wing.

Shape also affects the stability of the wing-- the leading edge of the palm may need thicker support against oncoming air currents, while the trailing edge might thin out some to help with aerodynamics.

So, we can assume that a humanoid palm would be too thick with padding, too large proportionally to the arm, and not shaped correctly for flight.

Instead, I would suggest a couple options.

You could slightly emphasize the wrist space the bases of the fingers share, making for a round, unobtrusive palm. Hell, you might even be able to argue the palm is *just* the carpals, depending on how you draw it-- it’s just a little wider than on bats.

Or, you could lean into a longer, but more asymmetrical palm, with a thicker leading metacarpal, and the rest of the metacarpals shortening/thinning in progression.

Just remember that with either design, the palm should still be fairly small compared to the arm.

Thumbs

When thumbs aren’t being used as a base for feathers like a bird’s alula, they’re usually used for clinging. As it turns out, clinging is more effective when the knuckle of the thumb rests against the object being clung to, thus this knuckle gets a lot more padding than the rest of the finger.

This padding could even be compared to the paw pads of a cat or a dog, especially when the thumb is used as a resting point when bats are on the ground.

While I wouldn’t necessarily consider it a sin to model a wing thumb after a human thumb, it does make more sense to model wing thumbs after bat thumbs so they can properly cling and support a membrane.

-Mod Spiral