#but logically I know I’ll probably have to accept my failure and then let everyone else know of my failures later today

[ko-eko-ev-go-ms]

TFW you double check your stuff to make sure you’re doing things properly within the rules only to realize you misread the rules and have actually fucked everything up so your soul shrivels up and dies

[jerepars]

Back again lol. Even though the writing just hasn’t been the best this season, I’m not really that mad about the way they’ve portrayed Jeresa. Just looking at this logically, I feel that they gave us 5x02 as our Jeresa episode early on and there really was a lot of sweet moments. Now, inevitably we had to have angst in between. But it’s been constantly cemented that James is in love with Teresa, and strongly implied that she loves him too. They can’t just build that up and leave it unresolved. Plus, with TV shows in general, a couple being together early on in the series just leaves it open for unnecessary conflict and the ship just loses its intrigue. If they give us the Jeresa ending we’re hoping for then it makes sense to have not got them together any episode earlier than the final 2. And despite everything, I think the writers have been a hell of a lot better than others in keeping their ship alive and not causing a irredeemable issue between them. I probably shouldn’t defend them before seeing the next two episodes, but I am hopeful. All that being said, there most definitely should have been more scenes and dialogue between them. We should’ve had a Tony moment between them (I’m so mad about this, especially since the writers acted like it was such a pivotal part of the season and then only showed Pote’s ‘grief’). I’m very sorry for rambling, just wanted to hear your take.

Oh, yes hello, back again, I see. Your ask made me sigh because I think it opens me up to be honest and critical of this season’s writing, and that kind of opinion may not always be favored around here, and also because it requires a response of essay length. But I’ll do it for you, anon, I will. Okay. So you want my take on the portrayal of Jeresa in season 5. Here we go. After the jump:

Let me preempt this by saying the show isn’t too serious (try and tell me this is still a serious show after the kerfuffle that season 5 has been), so you shouldn’t take this too seriously either. I have an opinion but I’m just…me. I encourage everyone to stick to their guns about what they feel about QOTS; what you like about it, what you love about it, what gets you excited, what you think has been done well, what is worthy of praise, etc. etc. etc. I go in pretty hard on the show in the next several (LOL, yes, really) paragraphs. But I am in no way the ultimate authority on all things QOTS.

I don’t think Jeresa would have unnecessary conflict and I don’t think the good ship Jeresa would lose its intrigue. In lieu of conflict, we’ve gotten…*crickets* nothing. No conversations of real value, no meaningful exchange of ideas, no arguments, nothing. If anything, the conflict between Teresa and James that is necessary had been absent. In seasons 1-3, there were always disagreements between Teresa and James. There was never a point reached where it created too much conflict, or unnecessary conflict. It created tension, which is like the very essence of Jeresa, and it showed the dynamic they have that made so many of us fall hard for Jeresa as our ship, as our OTP. I don’t think making them a couple or having them together early on in the season would create unnecessary conflict. I think it could’ve created different conflict than what we’ve seen before, and wouldn’t that be a beautiful thing, to have seen them evolve and deal with each other in ways we haven’t seen before?

So, related to what I said about different conflict, as far as intrigue goes…I don’t think presenting Jeresa as a couple or in a relationship would ever make them flat or boring. When I think back to season 3, when we got Jeresa in 3x05 and 3x09, I wish we’d been offered the chance to see them succeed and see what happened with them if they tried. Like I said, it’d be a different kind of conflict, a different kind of challenge for them to face and have to face together. That sounds so opposite of lacking intrigue to me, anon. That’s a side of Jeresa I would have loved to see.

You’ve pointed out that, in general, on TV shows, getting a couple together too early usually means doom and gloom and failure for them. One of my favorite shows ever was Veronica Mars, the first two seasons especially. When the showrunner, Rob Thomas, has talked about the first kiss Logan and Veronica have, he refers to it as being earned. For QOTS, and for Jeresa, I really felt that when they shared their first kiss in 3x05. It took so much and they went through so much to get to that moment. It was earned. So, with that idea—of the earned kiss, of the earned get together, of the earned relationship—in mind, to me, there is no point in season 5 that would have been too early for Jeresa.

Talking about TV shows and how they usually go in general leads me to my next point: as a viewer, is that what I want and is that what I should expect, to be given more of what’s typical? Maybe the writers and critics and people much smarter than me will tell me it’s my fault, I’m the fool, for wanting to critically engage in media that’s not meant to be consumed that way. Maybe I’m just supposed to accept and enjoy and be happy with what I’m given. No one claimed this wasn’t going to be typical. So okay. It’s on me. It’s my bad. But here’s the thing. If I’m supposed to accept and enjoy and love this as it is…well, give me something to love. I’m not asking for a revolution or anything life-changing here, just something I can appreciate (and this season, in my opinion, has really lacked things that I can hold on to and appreciate). So as for typical TV…I’m not down with merely accepting that because things usually go a certain way, that’s how they always have to go.

Why do Jeresa have to fail if they got together earlier in the season? Why is it so out of the realm of possibility that they might succeed together? Are they so emotionally stunted, do they lack so much compassion and understanding of each other that it would be impossible for them to listen and move forward together? What if they could discuss their issues, tell each other how they feel, stop hiding, and try? Who says there wouldn’t be angst and tension between them as they try to work through their issues? What if they’re actually supposed to be together and it would make them stronger—individually and as a couple?

Now, forget everything I just said. LOL. Let’s say we have to go by TV in general and typical TV rules. Let’s assume if Jeresa got together early on, then we’d see them struggle and fall apart and break up. Fine. Okay.

Here’s how Jeresa could have played out after the first two episodes:

5x03 banging honeymoon phase, probably

5x04 arguments and frustration with each other as T embraces being the white queen

5x05 J finds out about T’s coke usage and has to walk away from the relationship because he can’t stand to be complicit and stand idly by while she destroys herself

5x06 classic Jeresa angst and tension

5x07 KG’s death leads to T’s breaking point and J is there to support her

5x08 honesty hour, where it’s made clear that these two mean so much to one another and they’re running out of time to let each other know that, so they tell each other

5x09 one last united mission + they hatch the plan to get out and be free + a farewell with the promise and intent to see each other in another life

5x10 reunion in another life

Are these all headcanons? Of course they’re headcanons. Of course I would never expect the show to go exactly how I thought it would or with my own ideas. My point is that if they would’ve gotten together early on and we’d been given a glimpse of what that would be like, even if they failed, it doesn’t mean it would’ve been impossible for them to ever find themselves together again before season’s end.

“There’s not enough time,” the writers said. “It’s an action packed season,” the writers said. Okay. Why? There was enough time to spend on backstory of minor insignificant characters. There was enough time to introduce characters, tell us a bit about them, only to see them dead by the end of the episode. There was enough time to focus on Kote’s story, over multiple episodes, with not just a baby plot but a kidnapping one as well. So why? Why was there no time for Jeresa? Forget about them getting together and kissing and sex. If that was what it was (and it was) they wanted us to not have, then fine. Some of my favorite Jeresa moments were in the first two seasons, when Jeresa getting together was very much not a thing, when tension was high. So if it was just the portrayal of them not being together, if we still got the scenes of tension and them having no choice but to communicate, that would be completely fine. Like I said, I know I’m never going to get exactly what I want, my headcanons are mine, so that’s okay. Oh. But…no. Oh no. There was not even enough time for Jeresa to have more than short, throwaway, blink-and-you’ll-miss it conversations? Well. It’s the writers’ decision. They wanted it that way.

“It’s a Teresa-centric season,” Dailyn claimed. Like I’ve said before, James is a big part of Teresa’s journey and story. If you’re going to have a Teresa-centric season, it’s hard to accomplish that without shedding more light on James and Jeresa. This isn’t a Teresa-centric season. This has become the Kote show. Teresa is the main character but her journey has been pushed aside, diminished, and downplayed in order to make way for Kote ultrasounds and Pote grunting and Kelly Anne thinking “positive” and hopeful that Marcel will come to a party at the safe house. Instead of getting conversations that would offer insight into Teresa’s relationships with those in her family, we got an extended deep dive into the most chemistry-lacking relationship we’ve ever seen on the show. Well. It’s the writers’ decision. They wanted it that way.

“It’s Queen of the South, not Jeresa of the South,” the writers will insist. If by that they mean it’s Kote of the South. Imagine for a second that it actually was a Teresa-centric season but they were adamant about keeping James in this minor capacity. Okay. It would still be different than it is now because we’d be in tune with Teresa. We would’ve gotten a glimpse into her thought process. Was this not, at some point, meant to be a story about a strong woman? I can even extend that question to Kelly Anne. Was this not, at some point, meant to be a story about strong women? Then why do we keep seeing them make asinine decisions? Why are their most extreme actions in reaction to what the men have done?

Moreover, if this show is about the people in the cartel, in Teresa’s inner circle, rather than just the Kote side plot becoming the main plot, there’s no way this is the James we would be getting. James, our beloved reluctant assassin…who we know nothing about. He can’t even get a backstory on a show on which he is supposedly one of the main characters. Five minutes—five seconds—couldn’t even be spared on James and how he came to be who he is, how he got where he is. But Isidro Navarro? By all means, I need to hear his life story. Who’s Isidro Navarro, you ask? Right. Exactly. Apparently we don’t deserve backstory and explanation and conversation and introspection from our protagonists. But a character who is there for ten minutes or less on a single episode and will never be heard from again in any significant manner? Of course he needs his screen time. Well. It’s the writers’ decision. They wanted it that way.

“This is not a romance show,” the makers of season 5 said. Honestly? Fuck that noise. Fuck that sentiment. Fuck that ignorance. When has Jeresa ever been about romance? Where do the people who make this show get off saying something like that as if we are so stupid we don’t know that? A romance story and a love story are not the same thing. Jeresa is love. God forbid Jeresa ever experience love within a successful relationship. God forbid Teresa and James ever become mature enough to use love as strength rather than weakness. But pile on all the Kote. Focus on them and emphasize how Teresa and James can barely even look at each other. Well. It’s the writers’ decision. They wanted it that way.

So now here we are, on the cusp of 5x09. We got a spoiler in the last promo trailer. We know, after 7 episodes since their last conversation that actually meant something, after the writers missed the mark and didn’t have Jeresa interact in a way that was significant and necessary over the course of the season, that there is at least one kiss. They might even have a conversation. They might even share more than one kiss that leads to more (but also, don’t be surprised if we get a mere few seconds of a kiss and nothing more before fade to black). This is going to make us so happy because finally, finally, they’re giving us what we wanted. And then what? What does it mean if those things are true? Is everything forgiven? Is the instant gratification of seeing our ship sail for a scene or two enough? Does it make up for the character assassination of the characters we love? If we somehow get the ending we want, or at least one close to it, is it even believable anymore? Is what has been broken all season so easily fixed?

Listen, I already know the counter argument. I’m going to be told I’m crazy, that Teresa has to be on her own, that it wouldn’t be interesting, that it would diminish the payoff for Teresa and Jeresa in the end. I get it. Typical TV rules, right? We have to go with what people know, what they’re used to. But what have we gotten, really, to preserve these ‘rules’ for TV in general? Teresa has been dumbed down and is now lacking a lot of the intuition and street smarts she had before. She makes bad decision after bad decision and she doesn’t see what’s coming. The actions she takes are in reaction to those bad decisions. James hates so much of what he’s been made to do but for some reason he keeps going along and carrying out Teresa’s orders; he’ll just stew over it quietly in a corner without saying anything. Teresa and James don’t talk to each other, at least not about anything important, and when they do talk, they give each other heart eyes but never scratch the surface—how could they when they talk for like 10 seconds at a time? So. Has this been a good portrayal of Jeresa? You tell me. If it’s fine with everyone else, then I guess it’s fine. I’m probably the wrong person to ask.

[chidoroki]

Norman - 22194

March 21st is here and it’s time for yet another birthday post. I already rambled on about Emma and Ray on their special days, so now it’s finally time to complete this full-score tradition with Norman. It might not be as detailed or long as the other two, since he was absent for a good chunk of the story, but it doesn’t make him any less important! I’ll be honest now, the boy isn’t my favorite character (he doesn’t place anywhere in my top ten for this series either) so I probably missed some moments worth mentioning but I did my best to praise this child anyway!

(spoilers for the entirety of The Promised Neverland, so if you haven’t read/completed the manga yet, consider this your first warning, because I’m once again going from start to finish with this.)

Since I want to stay consistent with the other two posts, this will focus on the manga timeline, as season 2 is, well.. it’s own thing. I’ll mention some things but don’t count on much. With that, let’s go.

- He achieves a perfect score on Grace Field’s daily tests, alongside Emma and Ray.

- He is, without a doubt, the smartest kid the house has ever seen, as he passes each test flawlessly and has maintained a 300 average.

- He’s a complete strategist who is capable of achieving victory (even in something simple as tag) by observing his opponents moves and analyzing their weaknesses in order to counter.

- Knows how to pick locks. The scene from ch1 was left out but we see him doing so later on in ep02.

- Stays relatively positive and calm after learning about the truth of the farm.

- Even going as far as giving Emma a reassuring smile, which I think is impressive given the literal nightmare fuel they’ve just witnessed. 

- I’m giving him half credit for suggesting the idea of there being tracking devices, since anime has him reveal this possibility while in manga it’s Emma.

- Both of them realize what determines the shipping order and that the demons favor their brains.

- This silly panel that I love dearly.

- Made sure to do a sweep of the entire house beforehand to make sure their escape planning doesn’t get pick up on.

- Figures out that Isabella only knows the children’s locations when she checks the tracker and that it can’t identify who is who.

- Has the nerve to lie right to Isabella’s face.. not that she believes it, but still gutsy nonetheless.

- Knowing the house probably wouldn’t have any rope, it was his idea to use the spare tablecloths.

- Had a feeling that Ray would reveal the harsh reality of how dangerous it would be to escape with all the children, which turns out to be correct.

- His laugh in ep02 is so precious.

- This statement being 100% accurate.

- Manages to convince the logical Ray, who we know now has spent many years coming up with a solid, safer escape plan, to join in and assist with their crazy and reckless plan instead. Having Ray on their side also grants them many advantages.

- Absolutely hates to lose, which is a good mentality to have in a world where your life is a stake and your time is limited, which eventually leads him to consider every possible opportunity to stay ahead of his enemies throughout the remainder of the story.

- Realizes that the trackers must only send out a signal upon being broken, which we found out to be true in Ray’s one-shot chapter.

- - Him looking completely terrified in this panel.

- He managed to catch all the Grace Field kids in a game of tag even after they received advice from Ray about how to survive longer.

- The goddamn intimidating energy he gives off here is fantastic.

- Despite his body being physically weak, he manages to survive and win against Krone during their game of tag.

- Just like Ray some couple chapters ago, Norman is completely serious about this idea.

- Suspects there’s a traitor among the kids and swiftly comes up with a plan to lure them out.

- This panel of him “dead” from the first side story.

- He has a feeling the spy is Ray, so he moves up the day of the escape to catch him off guard and send him into a panic.

- Even though the anime didn’t include it, he managed to throw off Krone as well with some fake footprints to keep her off their backs.

- Was honestly considering on leaving the spy behind while the rest of them escaped, though he doesn’t seem real happy about the idea, considering the traitor is Ray.

- His plan on fishing out the spy was flawless as he finally calls Ray out by revealing that the information he gave about the ropes and where he hid them were fake locations.

- Not only was Ray the first one Norman suspected, but he caught onto him way back when Krone first came to the house. All the information Ray was feeding them helped Norman come to this conclusion as well.

- Along with Emma’s words about believing that no one in their family is truly bad, Norman refrains from cutting Ray off to allow him to become their trump card. This was a risky move itself, knowing Ray could sell both him & Emma out at any time. Norman tends to prioritize victory, so while staying alive is absolutely necessary and that could’ve been achieved without Ray (as he could’ve just used Ray then ditch him later), he still decides to make the offer as realizes that in order defeat Isabella, Ray’s full cooperation is essential.

- Realizes that it was Ray who hid Little Bunny in the first place and lead Norman and Emma to investigate the gate that night, which leads him to believe that Ray isn’t really an enemy.

- He’s also left handed. Yes, that’s important. Not only for later in the story but because we’re superior. I’m sorry y’all had to find out this way. 

- This stupid, little face he makes.

- Suspects that Ray doesn’t actually plan on escaping at all and intends to kill himself.

- Just like Emma and Ray, Norman also recognizes and understands morse code.

- Look at this precious child, not even angry after getting punched and knocked over. (because i certainly would be)

- Finds Ray’s hidden supply of oil which confirms the method for his future suicide. This also helps Norman later on when he comes up with a refined escape plan by using the fire Ray plans to start.

- Figures out Krone’s true intention about why she wants to join forces with the kids in the first place. 

- He ends up accepting Krone’s offer anyway, because despite the large risk, any information that can snag out of her would benefit them.

- You mad lad, look at you, taunting the bringer of death yet again while a smile on your face.

- And he still manages to find some strength to smile while upon death’s door.

- Not for long though, as once he’s given the chance to be alone, he finally breaks down. Having the cup overflow with water really helps demonstrate how impactful the thought of dying hit him as Norman was overcome with so many emotions that he didn’t even have the strength to hold onto the cup or his facade. It’s then he starts to feel scared and sorry for himself but away from Emma and Ray’s eyes as to not worry them.

- His entire internal monologue as he comes to terms with his unfortunate situation and flips back to his determined “I can’t lose” attitude to help everyone else escape. Also, his theme ‘22194’ hits especially hard.

- For someone with weak, physical abilities, he manages to climb the wall on his own.

- Though the cliff stopped his escape, he used that opportunity to survey the surrounding area of the entire farm to rely his findings to the duo and provide them a safer escape route.

- Completely adamant about his decision to accept his shipment in order to give the rest of his family a chance to escape. (hell, id’ be terrified right now)

- This hug that is sure to break everyone’s hearts.

- Quick to react to Emma’s last ditch effort and prevented her from slamming her already busted up leg into the ground.

- Not only did he predict that Ray would start a fire to distract Isabella and on which day, he also left behind the pen and key he received from Krone along with a new, detailed plan (which he managed to come up with in only a few hours by the way) that would allow the kids to cross over the cliff.

(post season one spoilers below. again, focusing on the manga timeline, so any new season 2 events will be mentioned sparingly.)

- Like Ray, Norman was able to figure out how the pen worked well enough to see Minerva’s message regarding B06-32.

- Since he doesn’t show up again for quite some time post-escape, there isn’t much to talk about.. but at least I can make fun of him thanks to extra pages, like how he wouldn’t have enough strength to use a bow.

- But hey, props to s2ep10 for actually giving us Norman shooting an arrow. He was pretty decent with it too, as he hit his target on the first try behind a darn smokescreen. The manga did show him holding a bow in ch161, but that’s it.

- Not relevant to the actual story at all, but his smarts certainly make anything possible.

- I’m sorry but these tiny failures of his bring me great joy.

- Though the tests at Lambda are harder than those at Grace Field, Norman still managed to get every question correct. Every single day he was there. Even when the facility manages to increase the difficulty of the tests, he continues to pass each one with flying colors.

- Since he noticed someone who’s right handed also takes the same tests he does, he makes an attempt to communicate with them via a Rubik’s cube. He waits patiently for five months until he finally gets a response from Vincent around Christmas 2046. 

- Dealt with the experiments/drugs that were forced onto him and the seizures that resulted from them.

- Even with the tight security and surveillance, he somehow acquired explosives and successfully blow up Lambda and escapes with the survivors.

- Again, not significant to the story, but seriously dude? You just fainted and yet you still get this crazy question right effortlessly?

(post time-skip)

- Contacts Lucas moments before the B06-32 shelter gets blown up and gives him the numeric code that eventually leads Emma’s group to the “Jaw of Lion.”

- Destroyed numerous mass production farms since his escape from Lambda.

- As well as save countless children from other farms and used the Paradise shelter found by Smee’s network to give them a sense of safety and taste of a normal life.

- The darn glow-up he receives, like sweet lord child, are you sure you’re still 13??

- - His cute, squishy cheeks though!

- He may look like he’s in his thirties, but still has the strength of a child. (see anime? this is how strong ray’s slap should have been!)

- Learned a great deal of demon history and gave that lengthy lesson about the demon’s genetics and how they inherit the characteristics of whatever they eat and evolve accordingly. 

- With Emma’s wish about saving everyone and lively happily still on his mind, he thought of a safe and certain method in order to create such a future for all the children raised as food.. which ends up being complete extermination of all the demons caused by a civil war. His plan also includes ending the Ratri clan as well. How cheerful.

- Are you surprised to learn that Norman getting tackled by the younger kids is my favorite panel of him?

- You weak, little bean, I’m sorry I enjoy making fun of you so much.

- Successfully forms an alliance with Lord Geelan and his clan by offering revenge on the royal family, the five regent houses, as well as the Ratri clan, thus putting Geelan in full control. In return, it would grant Norman the full release of farm children, permission to self-govern and some much needed power in terms of demon strength.

- He knows full well that the entire alliance is a lie and both parties are only using each other, though in works in his favor, as it will send the demons to destroy each other without the lose of any human lives.

- This absolute powerful panel that the anime decided “nah, we’re gonna change this too” because they’re cowards.

- Narrowed down possible locations on where to find Sonju and Mujika. Sure it was with the intention of killing our demon friends but his map was accurate.

- Survived who knows long with his seizures at level 4, and because of his severe condition, he’s completely set on following through his plan and succeeding before his time runs out.

- Seems to enjoy blowing stuff up, such as the imperial city’s bridges to send the place into a panic and trap all the citizens.

- Advised the Lambda crew on how to effectively fight against the queen by attacking relentlessly.

- Let loose a poison that causes not only normal demons to degenerate, but the royal family as well, such as the five regent heads and the queen who’s name is too long and complicated for me to ever remember, who all have the cursed blood. (at least that’s how effective it was in manga, in anime it did absolutely nothing to vylk)

- He somehow managed to learn, speak and understand the demon language, which, according to Shirai (vol16 author notes), is actually an uncommon language nowadays. (and we’ll unfortunately never know how this language actually sounds, thank anime..)

- Do I even praise him for killing a demon and well.. all this? Sure in the anime he tried killing Vylk, but old demon was fair more innocent compared to the royal family, so I have no idea.

- I will give season 2 some credit and say I prefer their take on the “right now you look like a small child, shaking with fear” panel.

- But not too much credit, as they didn’t give us the full trio hug as the manga did!

- Then again the anime did have him about to apologize to Vylk and Demon Emma for his actions, which is something, I suppose? since in ch154 he says he didn’t regret killing the queen and royals, which I guess is justified because they were the bigger problem, but oh well.

- Might have apologized to Ayshe for killing her father? Can’t be sure but that’s the unanimous consensus in the fandom right?

- Instantly comes up with counter moves and directions for the entire group upon hearing the enemies locations from Vincent during the GF raid.

- I honestly can’t look at this panel anymore and not laugh about it.. because reasons.

- He just keeps on winning. (also he looks real good here, i’ll give him that.)

- He and everyone else are skeptical about there being no “reward,” and for rightfully so.

- Upon learning that Emma is missing after everyone crossed over to the human world, they all adopt her optimistic attitude and swear to find her no matter where she might be.

- After a stressful two year search, the kids finally find Emma and Norman is so overcome with emotion that he busts out into tears of joy, despite finding out that she lost her memories due to the reward. All that matters to him is that Emma was safe and happy and he accepts her just the way she is.

And I guess.. that’s it. I’m sorry again, I know this is truly the weakest post out of the trio and I have no doubt I glanced over a whole bunch of great moments but it still had to be done! Making fun of him probably wasn’t the best thing to do on his special day either, but I assure you this child is very powerful. Who else do you know that is capable of sending an entire fandom into a panic and rage furiously by just simply showing up?

Ah ha okay, now I’m done. In all seriousness though, this lad is great and through everything he has endured, he definitely deserves to be celebrated today, so happy birthday to our boy Norman!

[inosukki]

jealous, various characters.

synopsis: how your boyfriend would react to his teammates seeing you in a bikini!

includes: bokuto koutarou, kuroo tetsurou, and semi eita.

bokuto koutarou

two words: emo mode😃

when bokuto invited you to the beach with his teammates, you were hesitant to accept

the only person you knew somewhat personally was akaashi, since you three would hangout all the time

plus, you were basically the polar opposite of bokuto, which meant that you didn’t immediately warm up to people

but he practically begged you to go and how could you say no to that cute face🥺

currently, you were sprawled out on the towel you brought for yourself and bokuto, clad in jean shorts and a t-shirt

you were sweating buckets so you decided to undress, you had a bikini underneath your clothes anyways

and the guys were playing beach volleyball, so it’s not like anyone was gonna notice... right?

well after you’d taken off your top and began to pull your shorts down your thighs, you could hear the entire team making their way over to you (as you all had set up your belongings in the same area)

quickly, you slipped off your shorts and sat criss cross on the towel

“[Y/NNNNN]!” a loud, whining voice called out

without giving you anytime to process, bokuto threw himself on top of you, causing you to fall over

“i’m thirstyyyy” he cried, pressing his face into your neck

your eyes widened at the display of affection, gently pushing him away

“idiot... you’re lucky i brought you a drink.” you teased, handing him the bottle of pocari sweat from your purse

“AHHAHHAHA LOOK!!! MY GIRLFRIEND BROUGHT ME A DRINK! YOU GUYS DON’T HAVE GIRLFRIENDS THAT BRING YOU DRINKS!”

just smile politely y’all. we’re witnessing mental illness❤️

you looked at him like🤨🤨 wondering wtf possessed him to even say that

as he sipped happily on the sports drink, hand snakes around your waist and ranting to akaashi about something you couldn’t quite catch, you observed the rest of his team sitting on their towels and gulping down their own drinks

“aaah, i forgot to bring my water and i don’t have any money...” your ears perked up at the sound of the person’s voice

you scanned the area, eyes falling upon wataru, who was empty handed. you felt bad

should i give him a drink?, you thought, mulling the idea over

it was hot and he had just played beach volleyball (which was much more tiring than regular volleyball) in the scorching sun...

it was as if your feet were moving on their own as you grabbed the bottled drink and moved away from bokuto’s grasp, not stopping until you reached your kouhai

“wataru-kun?” you mumbled quietly

his eyes trailed your exposed skin until reaching yours

you didn’t notice how the tips of his ears began to blush, or how his entire face was red

probably because yours was too... not because of him, but because that’s what happened when you talked to anyone who wasn’t in your immediate circle

you also didn’t notice how he was no longer looking into your eyes, but an area just below them

“eh... i heard you say that you forgot to bring a drink and i had an extra so... here you go!”

you extended your arm, waiting for him to accept it

you waited... and waited... and waited...

“wataru-kun?” you questioned, lowering your hand. god, did you just embarrass yourself?

it wasn’t until another first year (anahori, was it?) slapped the back of his head that he responded

“ah-thank you, [l/n]-senpai!” he blurted, grabbing the drink from your hand

you smiled, happily walking back to your seat

wait, where was bokuto?

you scanned the area to find bokuto a few feet away from his original spot, curled into himself and staring at the ocean

oh god, he was in his emo mode

“eh... akaashi? what happened to bokuto?” you whispered as to not alarm your boyfriend who could probably still here you

“wataru was staring at your chest and he got upset.” he replied in a monotonous tone

“AKAASHI!” you screeched, punching him in the shoulder. “why do you say things so bluntly? i’m going to go see if he’s ok.”

still embarrassed, you unconsciously crossed your arms

as you approached bokuto, you could practically feel the gloomy aura surrounding his form

“bokuto? are you alright?”

“i am a failure.”

HUH😀

“what? what do you mean?”

he turned to look at you, incredibly small and fully white eyes staring into your own

“another man was looking at my girlfriend inappropriately and i did nothing to stop it... i am a failure... you should breakup with me now.”

AHDJSJFKF WHAT KIND OF LOGIC???

“man...? wataru-kun is a first year, bokuto. he’s 15. a child. and i’m sure he didn’t mean to offend me, i didn’t even notice. if he had given me any trouble i could have handled it myself.”

your words fell on deaf ears as bokuto day in silence, resembling the 😞 emoji

you reached your hands to cup his face, but he turned around dramatically

“don’t look at me, this is the face of a loser!”

ok now you were a little annoyed

you forcefully grabbed his face and turned it towards your own with such ferocity that bokuto thought he’d gotten whiplash

“BOKUTO, you’re my boyfriend. my handsome, talented, amazing, boyfriend. you’re one of the top five aces in the country. wataru-kun doesn’t even compare to someone like you. he’s just a boy, go out there and show him what a man is! how scary and powerful his captain is!”

in a flash, the dark and gloomy aura dissapeared and was replaced by bokuto’s usually energetic and friendly air

“HEY HEY HEY, YOU’RE RIGHT. I AM THE BEST! I’M GONNA GO KICK HIS ASS IN YOUR HONOR!”

“bokuto that’s not what i meant—no!—BOKUTO!”

kuroo tetsurou

idk how to write for him lol😹👍

but i’ll try

so background😼 you’re like the unofficial manager of nekoma

you bring everyone protein bars and sports drinks and stay after practice to help pick up stray balls and do other ~managery~ stuff

EVERYONE LOVES YOU

lev calls you mom (he’s secretly your favorite)

yaku listens to you when you tell him to go easy on lev

taketora worships the ground you walk on (simp🙄🙄)

you call kenma your son but he glares at you when you do😹 (😿) big sad

(idk the other characters LOL)

everyone practically begs kuroo to invite you (which he was going to do anyway bc mf loves you duh)

so when he does your just like... um ofc u utter fool

lev had already told you about it when you were helping him practice his spikes so if kuroo didn’t invite you you would have shown up unannounced

but ngl you were lowkey feeling used bc after you accepted he told you that he’d gonna need the keys to your parents’ van bc it was the only car that could fit all of you in it

whatever you’re just happy to be there😋

you sat up in the front while kuroo drove, drumming your fingers against his thigh

“hey kuroo are we there yet”

“[y/n]... just look up what’s the point of asking”

when you guys arrived you and lev ZOOMED towards the beach to see who could make it there first

he won sadly :/

everyone else joined you so you guys began setting up

they were laying their towels on the sand, dropping their bags, and taking off their shirts

kenma kept his shirt on and was just on his switch the entire time

well everyone else was changing so you should too right🤩

you took off you swimsuit cover up and tossed it aside

and just when you did you heard the sound of squelching and a weight fall onto the floor

“TORA?? TORA ARE YOU OK”

tora’s nose was bleeding and he was twitching on the floor

AND NO ONE WAS ACKNOWLEDGING IT... LIKE IS HE OK

when you bent down to check on him his eyes widened, refusing to make eye contact

they were making contact with something else❤️

but he immediately corrected himself and closed his eyes

he might be a simp but he’s not a perv

you looked towards kuroo who was a few feet behind you expecting him to be mad or protective or whatever

but mf was laughing

LAUGHING

“oh god, that’s so pathetic! imagine fainting at the sight of boobs” he was dry heaving, hands on his knees as he doubled over

he didn’t give af🖕🖕 f u kuroo

semi eita

ion know how to write for this mf either

with semi, he hadn’t thought of inviting you to the beach with his teammates

he’d assumed it was team bonding/extra practice after their loss at the hands of karasuno

when in reality it was actually just a day off to have fun and forget about volleyball even if it was just for a few hours

tendou, your best friend, was the one to invite you

“come on, [y/n]! it’ll be fun! you don’t even have to go in the ocean if you don’t want to.”

you rolled your eyes, scoffing at the suggestion

“of course i’m going in the ocean, idiot. i’m not just going to watch you all have fun.”

his mischievous red eyes lit up

“perfect! i’ll pick you up from your dorm on saturday at two. make sure your ready.”

and that was that

tendou had picked you up as promised and the two of you made your way to the beach together

the sun was relentlessly beating down on you two, so by the time you had reached your destination, you were already sweating

“ugh,” you whined in displeasure. “my skin’s already starting to feel hot. i’m just going to change here, ‘kay?”

“good idea” he responded, taking off his shirt

you stripped down to your bikini and stuffed your clothes in your bag, wiping the sweat from your forehead.

a low whistle sounded from tendou

“wow, [y/n]! look at you, semi is going to just eat you up!”

you scoffed, punching him in the stomach. even though you knew he didn’t mean it in a suggestive way, you hated when he teased you. he knew just how to push you buttons.

“i will literally kill you. now lets go meet up with the others, creep.”

he chuckled, but followed you nonetheless.

you smiled as you saw the entire shiratorizawa volleyball team sat in a circle, enjoying a picnic

“hey, you guys started eating without us?” tendou cried, rushing past you to seat himself next to ushijima

“well you’re late, you deserve it.” yamagata uttered, not taking his eyes off of his food

you walked past the team, responding to their greetings with a smile and wave before stopping behind semi, lowering yourself to wrap your arms around him

“hello, eita!” you grinned, pressing a light kiss to his temple

he immediately stiffened against the abrupt touch, softening when he recognized that it was you

“[y/n]? what are you doing here?” he was thoroughly confused, turning his whole body to you

“tendou invited me! why do you not want me here?” you pouted, placing your hands on your thighs

at the suggestion he was immediately reduced to a stuttering mess. his usually stoic attitude was replaced by nervousness and defensiveness

“o-of course not! i just assumed only the team was coming. i’m glad you’re here, promise.”

his seriousness always made you laugh, maybe that’s why you loved teasing him

“i’m just fucking with you, eita.”

his automatic response was: “oh, well then eat shit.”

LMFAOOOO there’s the guy you know and love

you were about to slide in between eita and shirabu when you felt a pair of wandering eyes to your right

shirabu was... checking you out??? HUH

he didn’t even notice you were looking at him because he was looking straight at your thighs

MF EVEN LEANED BACKWARDS TO LOOK AT YOUR BUTT

you weren’t even offended because this was the funniest shit you had witnessed in your life

the kid that your boyfriend hated with his entire being was literally checking you out in front of him

before you could form a sentence that would surely embarrass the setter, you heard your boyfriend screaming and lunging at shirabu

“HEY, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING YOU DISRESPECTFUL LITTLE SHIT? I’LL KILL YOU!”

“HUH? g-get off me! what are you doing?”

what da fawk😃

you immediately grabbed eita by his arm and pulled him away from the lowerclassmen, a shocked expression adorning your face

he was practically fuming, if you were in a cartoon, steam would’ve been blowing out of his ears by now. his eyes ripped themselves from shirabu’s cowering form and were now focused on you

“you were just letting him look at you! i saw you!”

NOT HIM TRYING TO BLAME THIS ON YOU

“well i was gonna tell him off before you acted like a fucking psycho... which was funny as fuck by the way.”

“it was not funny” he growled, folding his arms over his chest.

“it was too! as much as i enjoyed that, please never do it again. i can take care of myself, okay?”

he rolled his eyes but nodded nonetheless, earning a chaste kiss on the cheek

you thought that was the end of it but he stood up, grabbed your wrist, and dragged you away from his team

“we’re going somewhere private. now.”

time for the vaccum seal two handed twist gawk gawk wombo combo🥵🥵

[a/n]: this was requested and i wasn’t sure if you meant that you wanted random beachgoers to be staring at the reader so i just made a teammates do it hehe <3 WHY DID I MAKE THEM TOXIC AND WHY IS MY WRITING STYLE ALL OVER THE PLACE LMFAOO😹👍

[vs-redemption]

Crime is Common. Logic is Rare. (Ch.25)

Chapter Twenty-Five: Lazy Morning (HawksxGN!Reader)

From Cindy: I’ve decided to continue this story to go through the war arc in the manga. Because of this, I’ve had to rethink some plot points and story lines which takes time. Thank you for your patience and enjoy the chapter. It is really fluffy!

Plot summary: As a quirk geneticist, you never really imagined yourself getting involved in hero work. Of course, you never imagined catching the eye of a pro hero either. What starts as a great career opportunity turns into a relationship built upon mutual secrets and trust.

Warnings:  

⚠️This story contains spoilers from the manga.

⚠️Some events and plot points have been altered from the original manga

⚠️ Fluff!!!

Tag List: @gayforkeigo @marshmallow-witch @redflannel @toyo-shiro @elsasshole @astronomyturtle @iambashfulperson @omiwashere

Next Chapter : Chapter Guide

Waking up next to Hawks was a whole new experience when there wasn’t a rush to head to work or an imminent looming crisis about the secrets you both were currently keeping. With your arms securely wrapped around his body, you unbury your face from his chest and look up to admire his features which looked completely relaxed for one of the very few times since you’d met him. A smile tugs at your lips as your eyes scan over his feathery eyebrows, the black markings around his eyes, his cute little nose, those kissable lips, and finally to the few small hairs growing on his chin. He was gorgeous and you can’t stop yourself from stretching up to place one small kiss on the exposed column of his throat before tucking you head back into the warmth of his chest.

A few twitches from your boyfriend’s wings and a small groan told you that even such a small movement had been enough to disturb him from his sleep. You glance up at his eyes again which remain closed even though one of his strong arms slides over your waist to pull you closer.

“Good morning,” you say quietly.

“Mmm morning,” Hawks’ voice was a bit gravelly as his eyelids finally flutter open to reveal his beautiful golden eyes. “Throat’s dry…” he mumbles.

“Well, nobody told you to go that hard during karaoke,” you laugh softly as memories from the night before resurface in your mind. You wouldn’t mind if life was that relaxed and carefree for you both more often. Seeing Hawks acting open and goofy had reminded you what had drawn you to him in the first place.

“Don’t be mean,” Hawks pouts. “I had to impress your friends, didn’t I?”

“You impress them just by existing,” You assure him before humming contently at the soothing circles he starts rubbing on your back with his thumb.

“That’s right,” he sighs dramatically. “The only person immune to my magic face is you.”

“I’m not immune,” you correct him with a smile. “It’s just that there’s plenty more to like about you besides that.” A mischievous glint blooms in Hawks’ eyes and he raises his eyebrows curiously.

“Oh really?” He asks, “Care to elaborate?” You let out a dry laugh while slipping one of your arms free to reach up and run your fingers through his hair and then cup his cheek in your hand.

“Hmm, nah,” you tell him. “I don’t think so.” Hawks groans at the teasing before dipping his head down to kiss you on the forehead. You close your eyes and enjoy the moment for just a bit longer. As lovely as the morning snuggles were, the thought of the villains intruding in on such an unguarded and intimate time kept you from being able to relax completely. It reminded you of the conversation the night before, when Hawks had admitted to still having some secrets.

It was frustrating because, despite it being scary and stressful at times, you’d really grown to care a lot for the winged hero during your time together, and you wanted to be closer with him and know him completely. Whatever you didn’t know must be very sensitive though, and could probably be used against Hawks if the villains found out. You knew he’d tell you if he could, but until then, you supposed you’d have to bridge the gap between you both as best you could yourself.

“We should get up,” you mumble into his chest and he groans again. “I’ll make you coffee.”

It took a few minutes to convince him to get out of bed, and you had a feeling it was his own inherent need to move that finally motivated him in the end and not your coffee bribe. After all, he could probably send a couple feathers to prepare whatever he needed from the small hotel kitchen anyway.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” Hawks asks, leaning against the counter in only a t-shirt and a pair of boxers as he waited for the coffee to brew. You did your best not to let your eyes wander, but hey, you were only human.

“I was thinking about what you said last night,” you hum while reading through a pamphlet of the hotel’s services, wondering if it was worth it to order something to the room for breakfast or if you should get dressed and head to a nearby café. “About learning more about each other by getting to know the important people in our lives.” Hawks looks over at you with cautious curiosity and you smile to assure him you knew to be careful about asking questions he couldn’t answer.

“I know you have to fly back to Tokyo today,” you say just as the coffee machine beeps. Even though you had told him you’d make the drink for him, his feathers set to work before you even had the chance to jump in. “But since the holidays are coming up, I thought it might be fun if you came with me to my family’s Christmas party.”

Hawk’s eyes go wide and his feathers falter just a bit, thankfully managing not to spill coffee all over the floor. “Family Christmas Party?”

“Only if we’re both able to get the time off work, obviously,” you shrug while putting the pamphlet down and shuffling over to stand next to him. His feathers deliver a hot mug of coffee into one of his hands while the other goes around your waist to pull you closer. “What do you usually do for the holidays?”

“Uh, not much,” He admits. “Most of time I’m on call at my agency in Kyushu, just in case there’s any trouble.”

“I was afraid of that,” you admit with a frown. “You said before that you don’t have contact with your own parents, or any really close friends either. That’s why I thought it might be nice to share mine with you.”

“That’s very sweet,” he smiles. “I’ve never had anyone want to introduce me to their parents before.” There was a playful tone to his voice, but you could tell the idea made him a little nervous.

“Don’t think of it like that.” you nudge him. “My parents are chill. They’re not like my boss who’s already planning our wedding. If you can handle her, you’ll be fine with my family.” Hawks hums in thought while sipping his coffee. It was hard to tell what he was thinking.

“It was just an idea,” you poke him in the ribs, making him flinch and almost spill his coffee for the second time. “We could always spend the holidays just the two of us. I have more than enough love to smother you with.”

“Smothered in your love,” Hawks grins. “Now that’d be the way to go.”

“Stop,” you try to poke him again but he swings his hips to the side to avoid your finger.

“You must be pretty serious about me,” He teases, “If you’re already wanting to bring me home to your family.” Apparently he was already over the nervousness from before. “Aren’t you worried I’ll embarrass you?”

“No,” you deadpan. “I’ve already told them how weird you are, so they’re prepared.”

“Oh jeez!” He groans dramatically, “You’ve set me up for failure. Am I even going to have a chance of coming off as respectable now?”

“Probably not,” you sigh and shake your head regrettably.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Hawks lets out a laugh. “Didn’t you say everyone in your family is a genius like you?”

“I’m not a genius,” you say modestly. “But yeah, we’re all members of the scientific community in some way. It kind of runs in the family.”

“Shouldn’t you be dating a rocket scientist or something then?” Hawks challenges you with a sly smirk.

“Nope,” you shake your head resolutely. “And even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to because I love you.”

“Aw,” Hawks coos your name while setting his coffee mug down so his hands are free to pull you into his arms. “Come here, babe.” You gladly accept the affection and return the hug. “I love you too,” he mumbles before placing a kiss on your temple. “And I’m sure I’ll love your family too.”

“I knew I could convince you,” You say victoriously. “Now let’s get dressed and go find somewhere to have breakfast.”

Part of you hoped you weren’t rushing things too much with Hawks, but the fact of the matter was that you were serious about him, and wanted him to know that it was okay that there were things he couldn’t tell you right now. Your relationship could still progress, and even if it was a little one sided at the moment, there would be plenty of time later for him to catch up once his mission with the villains was over. You were really looking forward to the day you’d be able to go out with friends or spend a lazy morning with him without any fear of saying or doing the wrong thing. Hawks’ past was still a bit of a mystery to you, but it seemed like he hadn’t been given many opportunities to build close relationships with people. You couldn’t wait to show him all the joys of the things he’d been missing out on.

[lunetheaveragefan]

one day...

Hey! It’s time for chapter 6! This chapter also deals with some heavy things as well, so be mindful of that (as always, more details in the warnings). Anyway, that’s all, so enjoy the chapter!

A Sander Sides high school AU

Pairing: Prinxiety and some background Logicality

Summary: Virgil is used to being alone. He only has one friend, Logan. But when Logan makes a new friend, things begin to change as two more join their group. Roman, a boisterous theater kid, seems determined to destroy Virgil’s lonely, average life. How much will Virgil’s life change?

Warnings: mentions/descriptions of homophobia, bullying, suicide (hanging), suicide attempt (overdose), and self harm; mentions of Remus and Janus; swearing

Word Count: 1933 words

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CHAPTER SIX

Roman bites his lip and looks around. After standing awkwardly in the middle of the cafeteria for too long for his liking, he finally spots Virgil, Roman, and Patton sitting at a table in the back corner of the room. Relieved, he makes his way towards them. 

Virgil sees him coming towards the three of them, and, to Roman’s surprise, gives him a small smile. Patton must see this, because he turns around and spots Roman as well. He’s more openly enthusiastic and waves, a big grin lighting up his face.

Sliding into the open seat next to Virgil, Roman says, “It’s weird to be eating this early. I’m not used to it.” Patton chuckles. 

Virgil, always one to get to the point, asks, “So. Why’d you stand up for me?” Roman bites his lip and thinks, Dammit. I was hoping he forgot. He didn’t want to tell them. No one, even Patton, knew why he’d suddenly become so averse to bullying after being one for years. Everyone most likely thought he had a change of heart somewhere along the line. And he had, in a way. But there was more to the story.

There is always more to the story.

“Well, uh, you see…” Roman stammers, trying to get himself together. He took a deep breath before continuing, “Well, back in middle school, right after I came out, my dad was such an asshole about it. He didn’t want to accept or respect that I was gay. He said -- and did -- a lot of things. I realized sometime in July that he was being a bully, and what he was doing wasn’t so different from what I had done. And I don’t want to stand around watching someone get beat up the way I was by him, you know? I don’t want to sit around, knowing I could do something, and then have to live with that regret for the rest of my life.” It’s only a half truth, and a shitty one at best, but Roman’s too scared to talk about what really happened. 

He doesn’t want to relive the worst, most terrifying days of his life. Really, who would?

Patton, who’d already heard about what had happened the summer before freshman year a million times, still starts tearing up. What a sap, Roman thinks, but it’s a loving remark. He knows that he wouldn’t be near as happy, nearly as accepting of himself as he is now without Patton. 

There’s not much of a reaction from Logan; just a small head nod and a slightly reassuring smile. But it’s more than Roman was expecting from the serious boy, so it throws him off. What throws him off more, however, is Virgil’s face. 

It’s very skeptical, eyebrow raised, eyes drilling into Roman’s, almost as if he’s trying to see the lie just by the force of willpower. To Roman, it seems like he might be pretty close. No matter how much he wants to break eye contact with Virgil, he can’t. There’s something about it that draws him in, that’s electrical. 

To Roman’s relief, Virgil looks away first, but only to roll his eyes. 

“Oh come on, Roman,” Virgil scoffs. “I can smell a half-truth or lie or whatever the hell that was from a mile away. Now, that all may be true, but there’s more to the story. So cut the bullshit and start again. Besides, I’ve already heard that whole story. That’s not your big secret. Enlighten me, why don’t you? What would be so bad that the great Roman Princeford would have to hide it?” Resting his chin on his palm, Virgil smirks, an obvious challenge. He wants to see if I’ll break. Give in. And honestly, I don’t know if telling or closing off would be letting him win. 

“Hey, now, Virgil,” Patton says, always the peacemaker. “Let’s be nicer—”

“No, no, it’s fine, Patton,” Roman interrupts. “He’s right. I-I can’t keep avoiding this.”

Dread settles in Roman’s stomach as he steels himself to tell the story. Ignoring Patton’s concerned, “Kiddo…” he begins.

“Well, I guess the right place to start is with saying this: I have a twin brother. Remus.” Breathe. “He’s-He’s special, I guess. His mind is...twisted. Dark. He likes things that aren’t really...well, good or happy. And I never minded. He was still my brother, demented as he may be. 

“My parents, though...they thought something was wrong with him.” Breathe, Roman. You can do this. “They sent him to therapist after therapist, psychologist after psychologist. Gave him pill after pill, but nothing ever worked. He kept on being the same crazy Remus. So they just...gave up. On him and his future and their...their love for him, I suppose.

“But I never did. I tried to be there for him. I went to every performance he was in, I went to movies and football games with him. But it was harder as I grew up because suddenly, my parents decided that since Remus was a let down, a...a failure-” Come on! Don’t cry. It’s fine. You’re fine. Safe. “-that meant I had to make up for it. If they couldn’t have two normal sons, then one of them better be, had to be, pretty goddamn exceptional. 

“So we grew apart. Remus found a boyfriend, Janus, who could take him to movies and football games and go see his performances. And I kept on being the glory child for my parents. And everyone else, it seemed. I didn’t know that he was getting bullied until...until it was almost too late.”

The images rise in his mind: The hospital room, sterile and white, and the boy lying still under the sheet. The rope, tied with a near perfect circle at the end, hidden in the back of his closet. The blood pooling, staining the carpet red, gushing from the slashes on his arms. The way he looked when he woke up, the disappointment clear on his face. 

Remus, cold, pulse so slow Roman was sure he was dead, and the bottle of pills on the nightstand. 

Roman forces the sobs back down his throat. 

“Remus attempted suicide, and I didn’t even know he was hurting. He survived, of course, but just seeing him in the hospital, after...it hurt. A whole fucking lot. And so I swore to myself that I would do whatever I could to prevent that from happening to anyone. No one should have to look down at someone they care about, love, and hope with all they have that they survive. Knowing that someone tried to...to kill themself? That they genuinely thought it was the best option? It’s the worst feeling in the world. And I don’t want that for anyone.” Roman swipes at his eyes, only to find a single, hot tear creeping down his cheek. Quickly, hoping no one noticed, he wipes it away. 

Blinking until he feels back in control of his emotions, Roman looks around. Patton, of course, is a sort of wounded puppy, concern in his eyes, and a hand over his heart. Logan has been sombered by the story, more sadness than Roman expected showing on his face. But curiously, Logan’s eyes aren’t on Roman; they’re on Virgil. And when he looks over, Roman sees why. 

Virgil has tears streaming down his face. A hand is over his mouth, shaking slightly. His other hand clutches his wrist, so hard, the skin around his fingers is turning white. The two sit there for a moment, staring at each other. Abruptly, Virgil throws his arms around Roman and hugs him tightly. 

“I’m-I’m so sorry,” Virgil says in between sobs. After the shock has passed, Roman wraps his arms around the other boy. The hugs lasts long enough for the butterflies in Roman’s stomach to become full-fledged birds of prey. 

Finally, when Virgil pulls away, Roman offers him a small smile. To his surprise, Virgil returns it. Roman isn’t sure if he should ask Virgil about his reaction to the explanation or not, but Patton saves him from overthinking it.

“So the musical is coming up…” Patton prompts, clearly trying to change the subject. Thank God for Patton, Roman thinks. I don’t want to think about all that anymore. 

“Yeah!” Roman replies, pasting a smile on his face. “You guys are all coming, right?” 

Patton, looking scandalized, says, “Of course we are!” before correcting himself by saying, “Well, I am at least.”

“Personally, I’ve never understood the whole theatre thing,” Logan adds, “but I suppose, as your friend, I should come support you, so I will be there.” Patton smiles widely at that, causing a small chuckle from Roman. Patton’s always bugging me about confessing my feelings, yet here he is, keeping his crush to himself. 

“And Virgil?” Roman asks, trying not to get his hopes up. He’s probably not going to want to come. Hanging out with me at school and studying is one thing, but this would be a clear admission of friendship, something he most definitely does not see me as. Why would he—

“Of course I’m coming,” Virgil says, wiping away his tears. “You’d have to be pretty stupid to thing I would miss it.” He gives Roman a gentle, friendly punch in the arm, and despite the lingering sadness from his earlier confession, Roman beams. 

Trying to hide his overwhelming happiness, Roman simply states, “Cool.” 

The rest of lunch, the four make conversation about meaningless things: upcoming tests, funny memories, disastrous family get-togethers, and the like. When they get up to dump their trays, Roman leans over to Virgil and whispers, “I apologize for making you cry. I didn’t think it would affect anyone that much.”

Virgil replies, “Oh, it’s okay. It just hit a little too close to home, that’s all. I’m fine now.” The smile Virgil gives him does reassure him. And for once, Roman doesn’t spend all his time thinking about what Virgil could possibly mean by the story ‘hitting a little too close to home,’ mostly because all Roman can think about is the feeling of Virgil’s arms wrapped around him and his small, yet no less meaningful, smiles. 

It’s this he’s thinking about after school when the musical director says, quiet loudly, “Roman!”

Blinking repeatedly to dispel the distracting thoughts, he peaks around the curtain and asks, “Yes, Mr. Halter?” 

“That was your entrance.” Roman winces.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” He hurries out to his spot on the stage, fixing his costume.

Mr. Halter sighs and says, “Roman, that’s the 5th time you’ve missed an entrance just today. What is going on? The play is on Friday. We don’t have time for messing around or distractions.” His face is filled with disappointment, but also concern. Roman figures it’s because he never messes up this much, especially when the performances are so close.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’ll try to be more focused. Just have a lot on my mind.” Roman flashes a winning smile, and Mr. Halter looks relieved.

“Good. Now, let’s start with Ana’s line right before Roman’s entrance.” Roman and the rest of the cast and crew nod and get in their respective places. Back behind the curtains once again, Roman thinks, Goddammit, Virgil. You just keep on messing up my life. The thought, however harsh it seems, is filled with something awfully close to love. 

But Roman knows he can’t keep dwelling on that almost-love, or at least not right now. So he shoves all thoughts of Virgil from his mind and steps into his character and out onto the stage.

[logicalbookthief]

achilles, achilles come down (won’t you get up off, get up off the roof)

"This is a literal warzone!" the officer raves. "Let the heroes handle this, son."

"You don't have to be a hero to do what's right!" Natsuo yells in the man's face. "Maybe if more ordinary people stepped in when they should, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

Post Chapter 291 (technically AU as of 292). Natsuo can't watch his brother die without trying to save him. Not again.

Link to the fic at ao3.

*

*

Natsuo runs. It feels like all he can do.

He runs through the wreckage, the ruble, the destruction. Barely spares it a glance, the world a blur as it rushes by. How he's managed to stay on his feet and not trip or collapse is a miracle. If he had any blood left for his brain, if his blood wasn't pumping through his body so loud it roars in his ears, blocking out everything else, he may have been able to think it over clearly.

The fact is, he's not. Thinking clearly. Or maybe he's seeing clearly for the first time in a forever.

"Touya-nii!" Natsuo stumbles in his haste to get down the stairs. "Don't leave without me!"

He stretches his hand out to his brother, who's already at the door. Touya turns at his whine, eyes sparkling fondly.

"'Course not. You know I won't leave you behind!" He ruffles his hair with a hint of teasing. "Besides, Fuyumi is grabbing our lunches. So I've got no choice, huh?"

Natsuo heaves a sigh. In his hurry, he didn't even tie his shoes. Without any prompting, Touya leans down to knot the laces tight.

"You have soccer practice today, right?" Natsuo nods. "I'll walk you home, once I'm done my training. Wait for me by the bleachers."

There are fresh bandages peeking out of his brother's sleeve. Natsuo pretends not to look. Touya catches it when he quickly averts his eyes and smiles to show it's okay.

"Don't worry, they don't hurt anymore!" Natsuo knows that isn't true. His brother can't hide, when Natsuo has watched him cry, night after night. Lately his brother always seems to be hurting, inside and out. Nobody else seems to have noticed.

His brother is smiling, but it's a lie.

Liar, Natsuo gnashes his teeth against the wind as it buffets his face. Liar, liar, lair.

His mind chants it in the voice of a petulant child: Touya is a liar. For years, and years, and years, Touya - or is it Dabi? - left Natsuo to believe he was dead. He lied to Fuyumi and Mom, too, but he's ashamed to admit he cares that he out of everyone was kept in the dark.

Growing up, they were each other's confidantes. For every white lie Touya told, Natsuo got the ugly truth. Every resentment he held in his heart, Touya accepted without judgement. It was a burden and a privilege, taking up the torch of his brother's memory. Giving him a voice where he no longer had one. He suspects that he's mourned his brother most because nobody else had known the Touya he did.

Why do I exist?

For months after he died, Natsuo used to always keep one ear tilted toward the front door, wishing for his brother to walk through it and apologize for making him wait. He did this for so long Fuyumi become concerned that he wasn't coping. To her relief, the weight of his disappointment wore him down, and finally convinced him that his big brother wasn't coming back.

To have those childish hopes vindicated by the broadcast of a notorious villain feels like the punchline to a cruel cosmic joke.

Surreal as it is, he doesn't falter. Touya must have his reasons for hiding the truth, but Natsuo needs to hear the reason from his brother before he decides if the writhing mass in his stomach is more grief or elation.

The streets this close to the battle are empty. Deserted. Anyone with good sense would have fled hours ago. Obviously, Natsuo isn't exactly being ruled by logic.

He runs. Runs until his lungs burn, begging for him to stop. He's never burned from the inside, not like Touya. Yet he'd lay awake some nights, wondering what he must've felt in those final moments. Afraid, alone, burning so hot and horribly- god, it must've hurt-

The villain in the broadcast has scars everywhere. His chest, his arms, his chin. All they ever managed to find of Touya was that piece of his jaw. Biles rushes up his throat at the mere mention of it still.

It was Fuyumi who explained in a hushed voice why there was no body for them to bury. It wasn't her job to share the grisly details of their brother's demise, but Mom was gone and Dad was useless. So it was Fuyumi who squeezed his hand at a funeral with a hollow casket, telling him, "It's alright to cry " while she openly wept.

Natsuo spent the service watching his father, searching for signs of- well, he isn't sure what he wanted to see. He remembers his father's state of disbelief. The remorse that flit over his features. If he had to put a name to how his father looked in that moment it would probably be helpless. And the fury this ignited in his heart could've melted through the earth's core.

Helpless, as if this was completely out of his control. Helpless, as if Touya hadn't come to Natsuo every fucking night in tears over how he was a failure who didn't have a reason to exist. And he didn't even have the decency to watch his son's sense of self disintegrate. In his absence, that task fell to Natsuo.

Nowadays, Natsuo watches his father pray at a shrine and admit he's to blame, but it's the hollow casket all over again. Because he's never understood why it was his fault. Never realized how he tortured Touya. Molding him for a purpose he could never fulfill and then treating him like a consolation prize. Discarding a child whose only flaw was a body at war with his Quirk, a thing beyond his control.

In his own narrow, selfish way, Natsuo believes his father loves them. His encounter with Ending certainly put that into perspective. And yet if he could toss his less-than-perfect children aside for his own aspirations, without considering the damage that would do, what sort of love was that? Maybe he didn't understand; he had never had a Quirk worthy of his father's adoration.

Natsuo was never the favorite child and that's fine. He saw where it got his brothers.

Why do I exist?

A gloved hand clamps around his arm, startling him so hard he'd scream if he had any breath to spare.

"Hey, what're you doing?" In his single-minded focus, Natsuo hadn't noticed the string of officers blocking his path, including the one glaring at him like he's crazy. Probably they were there to assist any people who were to injured or scared to escape, not deter the only idiot in the city running towards the danger. "All civilians have to evacuate this area immediately!"

"Get away from me!" he snaps, shrugging out of the grip. He has barely managed to get his heartrate under control when he catches sight of Gigantomachia, which knocks the air right back out of him.

He has no idea how his little brother, or anyone, does this on a regular basis. His knees have locked up at the mere glance. The heroes who can still fight make a valiant effort to subdue the beast, and even as Best Jeanist attempts to wind his steel cables around the villain, it seems like a desperate attempt to mitigate the devastation. Surely, though, once more heroes arrive they...

There. Atop the roof of a building, Natsuo spots the villain from the broadcast, a splotch of white hair atop a black silhouette. Flames sprout from his torso, a blazing shroud of blue, and the fear that shoots through Natsuo overtakes any hesitation. He makes to run as the officer catches him by the shoulder.

"This is a literal warzone!" he raves. "Let the heroes handle this, son."

"You don't have to be a hero to do what's right!" Natsuo yells in the man's face. "Maybe if more ordinary people stepped in when they should, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

A roar from Machia sends a shockwave through the ground. That, coupled with the officer's stricken reaction to his words is what allows Natsuo to escape. He sprints toward the building where he last saw Dabi, the officer's cries lost to the hum of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

The distance is nothing compared to a decade of grief, regret and guilt. It urges him up a flight of stairs, and another, and then another after that. By the time he reaches the roof, his lungs may well and truly explode if he taxes them any further.

Up this high, the wind is nearly deafening. Maybe it's the hammer of his heart in his chest. Dabi stares over the ledge, cloaked in flames. At this angle, Natsuo can't see his face, but the way his body's poised to leap, ready to rejoin the fray and leave him behind again... Something in Natsuo breaks. When the cry drags itself out of his throat, it's the raspy plea of a child.

"Touya!"

Dabi freezes, whirls towards his voice and that- Natsuo's breath hitches. That's his brother. His face is older, a patchwork of pain and yet... Without a doubt, it's Touya. Until this moment, Natsuo couldn't scarcely comprehend the truth, even as watched it play out on his phone screen. Now if he reached out a hand, it would definitely touch someone real, solid. Alive.

Had his family stood against him like this and really not recognized him? Shouto was hardly at fault, when he scarcely remembered his oldest brother. And as for his father... He had a knack of not paying attention where it mattered.

"It is you," he says hoarsely, surging forward on legs reduced to jelly. His heart sinks when his brother rebuffs the touch.

"Natsu..." Touya whispers his name in bewilderment. At least the distraction is enough for his flames to recede and Natsuo wants to fucking weep in relief. "What are you-"

Suddenly, the building rocks beneath their feet, a stark reminder of their proximity to the battle. Midair as he prepares to land a blow against Machia, Shouto's gaze strays over to Dabi, only to notice he's no longer alone. His eyes widen in visible terror. "Natsuo, get out of here!" he shouts.

Before he can stress the point, Machia swipes a massive claw at the heroes. Shouto dodges expertly, drawn back to the fight.

"He's right," Touya says flatly. It jolts Natsuo out of his terror-stricken daze. "You should go."

All traces of fear abates as anger seeps through the cracks of his resolve.

"What, you can give Dad and Shouto the news in person?" Natsuo's lips wobble into a line more sneer than a smirk. "While me, Fuyumi and Mom get to hear it over a fucking video."

"I'm not sorry for what I said," he scoffs. "He deserves to be exposed for what he is."

Natsuo swallows. "I know," he says tightly, and the thing is, he does. Beneath the whiplash of shock and sorrow, some vindictive part of Natsuo was glad when Touya exposed the image of their happy little family for the sham it is. He feels like shit for reveling in it at all; this will crush the dream of a normal family Fuyumi fought tooth-and-nail to preserve. Even the guilt doesn't stifle that sliver of satisfaction.

Out of all the siblings, he understands. The weight of his silence is unbearable some days. Knowing that it only protects the perpetrator, not the victims. Worse is the days where the silence doesn't weigh on him at all; those are the days he can't seem to forgive himself.

Tears begin to blur his vision. He blinks fervently against the sting. He hates that he has to do this here, on a roof, amongst this goddamn chaos. "You couldn't have told me the truth before you broadcasted it to the rest of the world!?"

Finally, Touya meets his gaze. His expression is unreadable, except for his eyes. They might shine blue, but there's no mistaking they're his mother's eyes. And no matter how much she hid, you could always see the sadness if you looked her in the eye.

"Didn't think you'd want a stitched-faced criminal showing up at your university," he deadpans.

Whatever retort he had to that shrivels up at the revelation: He knows where I go to school?  It lodges like a stone in the pit of his stomach. If that's the case, he must know where Fuyumi goes to school, where Mom's staying. It should be terrifying, a murder stalking him, his mother, his sister.

But it's heartbreaking, is what it is.

Watching Endeavor's career was necessary to his revenge, but that... That was Touya, shadowing his family like a spectator, a ghost, while they went on with their lives.

His jaw tightens against the crushing wave of emotion. "That's no excuse."

"It isn't one," Touya replies, tonelessly. "None of this is."

Natsuo blanches, though he manages to tamp down on the knee-jerk of panic. No, that isn't what this is, is it? The broadcast. Attacking Endeavor. This isn't a confessional and Touya isn't asking for his forgiveness. Unlike back then, Natsuo knows what this is. Knows the signs. He spends every day pouring over coursework that describes this exact scenario.

He won't be helpless this time.

Keep him talking, tether him to the present.

"You were alive for all these years..." He can't quite wrap his mind around the idea. His brother, the frailest of them all, scorched alive by his own fire, and crawling out of the ashes without help from anybody? "Where were you? How did you survive when you-"

"Look like a charred piece of meat?" Touya's grin cuts through the question, all sharp edges and spite. It's a bait and he refuses to rise. When Natsuo doesn't budge, the façade drops, replaced by a placid expression. "Never mind, it doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters!" Natsuo bristles. Both of them hear the underlying sentiment behind the words: You matter to me!

He senses it the moment Touya shuts down. He was good at that, even as kids. He must've learned it from their mom: repress it, bury  it, disguise it with a smile. Until it inevitably boils over.

Touya turns his back to him. Somehow that aches worse than anything else. "You shouldn't be here," he repeats, chilling his brother to the bone. He sounds so serene. Matter-of-fact. Like he's burned through everything he had and now is left numb. "The Touya you knew is dead. Dry your tears and move on. It won't be hard. You've done it before, you can do it again."

He lays in bed some nights, wondering if his brother suffered, if as he died he screamed for help. Touya was good at hiding the pain, but oh, god, it must've hurt-

"Cut the crap!" Natsuo snaps. "Stop treating me like the Natsu you remember. I'm not that kid anymore, either."

He grinds his teeth together to keep any of his other bitter thoughts at bay. He hadn't meant to be harsh and besides, that isn't what Touya needs from him right now. However, it seems to jostle something in his brother, who looks at him, truly looks. Finally sees the angry, desperate and dirt-streaked man standing in front of him. A thin smile stretches the staples on his cheeks.

"No," he laughs, manic, and a little fond. "I guess not, huh?"

Natsuo huffs out a near-laugh, too. His mind is reeling yet his heart hangs less heavy than it did before. Briefly, it feels as if they are those kids, the ones who simply found comfort in each other's company. But the triumph is short-lived and he makes a critical error- he forgets. Forgets they're surrounded by heroes who view his brother as an imminent threat.

Steel cables jet out towards Touya from behind. Over his shoulder, Natsuo watches a streak of ice join the attack, likely to staunch any retaliatory flames, and he curses his little brother in the same breath his heart breaks for him. As far as Shouto's concerned, this is Dabi, and all he's trying to do is protect Natsuo, yet it's so fucked up because that isn't the brother he needs to save.

All he knows is that Touya, with the state he's in... Mentally distraught, physically destroyed. He won't surrender but he won't survive this much longer. His skin is still smoldering but he's ready and willing to burn until it's ash and Natsuo will lose his brother again.

He leaps for brother and he can't even pretend it's a noble impulse, or anything less than a moment of fear-guided insanity. He isn't a hero. He isn't kind like his siblings. Strong like his father or enduring like his mother. Not a martyr like Touya. He can't do much beyond the ordinary person, but he's got to do something, or else-

Natsuo surges right into the path of Best Jeanist's attack. Distantly, it sounds like someone screams his name - Shouto? His father? - he can't be sure. All of it's white-noise as he grabs his brother and swings them around, using his larger weight to crash them to the ground. He winces as his chin collides with collar bone, his knees scraping against the concrete with a screech of protest. Touya lands against his back, hard, the air punched out of his chest.

There's a dazed stretch of silence while Touya gawks up at him and Natsuo pants in the wake of his most recent adrenaline rush. It lasts for all of a second before his brother's howling and thrashing against his hold.

"You idiot!" he seethes. "Natsu, what the hell is wrong with you?! What are you doing? Let me go!"

His skin begins to heat. Though it feels like laying his palm over a stovetop set to simmer, Natsuo maintains his grip.

"I won't just stand by and let you destroy yourself," he yells, giving him a shake. Up close, the smell of signed flesh is nauseating. "Not again!"

Whatever Touya planned to spew back is halted by . Natsuo sobs freely, the tears rushing down his cheeks. They land over scars and skin alike and he wonders if Touya can feel the impact or if he's numb there, too. The struggling has ceased, and if ever there was a time to speak, it'll have to be now.

"You came to me crying, asking why you should exist . . . and I didn't have an answer."

There are fresh bandages peeking out of his brother's sleeve. Out of the collar of his shirt, too.

Fresh scars decorate his skin every day. Evidence of the training he continues, despite his father's disinterest. Despite the toll it's taking.

Natsuo pretends not to look. If he's noticed, someone else must have, too. A teacher. An adult. Mother, if she were home. Father, if he cared to look.

He shuts his eyes against the memory, where he can still see it, the angry red of his brother's flesh. "I knew you were hurting yourself with your Quirk. That you didn't care what happened to you, as long as you could prove you were useful!"

Fists tremble where they're clenched around Touya's arms, digging into scar-tissue. "I didn't know who to tell or if I should... Mom was already unstable and Dad was the reason... I didn't know what to do so I didn't nothing. And you... you..."

Wait for me by the bleachers.

Natsuo is left waiting, waiting, waiting. Forgotten. No surprise, since he was always the forgotten one. Fuyumi was the only girl, Touya was the oldest, and Shouto was the favorite but Natsuo- well, it was easy to forget Natsuo. Only Touya never forgot, which makes it all the worse. After he promised!

Sullenly, he walks home. Swears the moment he walks through the door he's going to give his brother a piece of his mind.

He never gets the chance.

"You didn't come home." Touya watches the words leave his mouth like he can't fathom any of them, but that's okay. This is Natsuo's grief to bare. He won't ever understand what it's like to burn, just as Touya won't understand this. "You didn't come home that day and I never got to tell you, I..."

Touya has barely moved since he started talking. Shock seems to have rendered him mute, the only proof of life the shallow rise his chest. He looks too prone, too dead like this. Natsuo would almost prefer the mania. Of course there's a chance he'll slide back into despair, or rage, and the sooner they get him to a stable environment (get him away, away from dad) without all these triggers the better.

Ever wary of breaking the fragile calm, Natsuo lifts his brother up by the shoulders, just enough to wrap his arms around him in a hug. Touya goes rigid, recoiling against any hint of affection. The hands that have burned countless others fall slack, neither reciprocating nor struggling. Gradually, the erratic beat of his heart slows to a steady thrum.

"I don't why you exist, but I'm happy you do." The smell of soot and chemicals flood his senses, and it's gross but at least it's real. Proof that however awful the reunion is, it really is his brother. Natsuo chokes out a watery laugh and hugs him tighter. "I'm so happy to see you."

His shirt is damp where Touya's nose is pressed and he wonders if Touya can cry, considering the scars... Wonders if maybe he wept too much when they were young and doesn't have any tears left to spare. It doesn't matter, since Natsuo has plenty for both of them.

The noises from the battle have dwindled, as Machia's subdued and more heroes arrive. It won't be long before they pry them apart to take Touya into custody. He swallows thickly at the notion of his brother in prison, barred from the care his condition requires, but it's all he can do for now to ensure he's safe. Safe from himself, anyway. If the heroes think they can pull the same shit as they did with that other villain Twice, well-

They'll have to get through Natsuo first.

[tibbinswrites]

Prompt #170: Part 3

So @day-fire​ asked (fist slammed a table) for a part three and made grabby hands... how could I leave those grabby hands empty? I’ve now done prompts for: #1, #2, #4 and #16, #9, #10, #20, #33, #77, #78, #170 (part 1), (part 2), (part 3), #327 and #502 and I’ve finally completed my backlog so I’m not accepting any more prompts at this time.

Also, just in case you weren’t aware, I’m part of an incredible destiel fanfic, art and podfic anthology. Our indegogo page is live here and there are tiers ranging from simply gorgeous PDF copies and all the podfics to beautiful print books with a bunch of other merch like bookmarks and art prints. We are now FULLY FUNDED so this project is a go! Everyone who buys a printed copy of the book now shall definitely be receiving one (and hey, maybe even a hardback one if we make it to 143% funded).

So here it is. The third (and final) part to the original prompt: “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

I hope you like it ^_^ Read the first part here

Read the second part here

Before Chuck’s body even had time to cool (metaphorically of course, there hadn’t been an actual corpse left behind once Jack was through with him), Billie showed up.

“Well done,” she said in that perpetually-sarcastic-yet-somehow-still-serious tone of hers. “You actually did it. I have to admit I’m surprised, it was touch and go there for a while.”

“Okay,” Dean immediately shifted from one fight to the next as he turned to confront Death. “We followed your plan, did your thing and we won. So now, you owe us.”

Watching Billie’s face transform into shocked indignation was worth the demand all by itself.

“My thing?” She said, drawing herself up to her full height, a crackle of dark energy seemed to buzz around her for a moment. “My thing was saving the world, the world that you all live on. I believe that what you mean to say is ‘Thank you’. I owe you nothing and our alliance is done.”

“That’s not how I see it,” Dean insisted stubbornly. “You going after Chuck was more personal than doing us a solid. He was messing with your books and your big picture plan so your beef with him wasn’t exactly altruistic.”

“Dean, what are you doing?” Sam murmured in his ear, stepping forward to grab his shoulder but Dean shook him off, his eyes only on Billie.

“Well you’ve got balls, Winchester, I’ll give you that,” she allowed, looking more amused now than anything, which Dean counted as a win because, you know, even by his standards, he knew that pissing off Death was a monumentally stupid idea. Even Sam’s presence retreated from his side, back towards Jack. “Go on then, tell me. What is it you want? Aside from… oh, I don’t know, your lives, the lives of seven billion people, your entire universe, and of course the fact that your future is your own again. Because none of that counts if my perceived motivation isn’t up to your very hypocritical standards.”

Okay, so maybe she was a little pissed. Nonetheless, Dean ploughed through, his hands balled at his sides, ignoring the warning looks from his family.

“The point is—”

“Just ask me for the favour, Dean,” Billie interrupted smoothly. “It does you no credit to be making demands with faulty logic to try and save yourself a debt. Either I’ll help you or I won’t, but I’ll be more likely to be on your side if you stop insulting me.”

Dean hesitated at that and swallowed hard. She was right, but that didn’t make it any easier. Sure, he made skeevy deals all the time that almost always backfired but at least he usually expected them to. Quid pro quo was something that he understood well. In this life you had to be willing to give a lot to get a little back. Straight up asking for help from a cosmic entity though? That was new, humiliating territory. He had nothing that she wanted from him anymore. He could ask, hell, he could beg, but he knew as well as she did that he had no leverage to stop her from just walking away.

“I want Cas freed of his deal.”

“Dean!” That was Cas, stepping forward, his face filled with compassion and gratitude as he moved into Dean’s line of sight and Dean’s face flooded with heat that Cas could look at him that way, that Cas could still look at him that way. “You don’t have to do this for me.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Dean said, dragging his eyes back to Billie, who was watching them carefully. “I got nothin’ to bargain with, you know that. You don’t want our lives or souls or whatever. Chuck’s already dead and you don’t care if we’re happy or not. I’m just asking, please. Break the deal.”

Billie considered him for a long time, her dark eyes taking him in, taking in Cas and then she was looking past them to where Sam and Jack probably stood before falling back on him. He briefly wondered what she saw… she didn’t like him all that much he was sure and if he had learned anything about her it was that she didn’t do anything that contradicted with whatever her big picture was. What Dean was asking was a pretty heavy shift of the way the stage had been set. But he couldn’t let her just leave without taking what might be his only shot to save the man he loved.

Finally, Billie sighed and took a step back, her grip shifting on her scythe.

“I can’t.”

Dean tried not to wilt, resolutely did not look at Cas. He didn’t want Cas to see the apology in his eyes, the failure.

The entire room was still, not even the dust motes seemed to move. Which was ironic really considering the fact that the world Dean had just helped save was starting to fracture around him.

Dean felt a warm hand on his arm then and a soft voice in his ear.

“Dean, it’s alright.”

“No!” He turned on Cas with all the fury he wanted to direct at Billie, at the Empty. “It’s not alright! How can you just stand there and tell me that you’re fine with being miserable for the rest of your life? How can you justify that? How can you?” he jabbed an accusing finger at Billie, who stared back, impassive in the face of his rage. “After what he’s done for this world, and his part in your plan—which was freaking huge by the way, he did way more than any of us—how can you just stand there and tell me that he doesn’t deserve to be happy?!”

“Deserve has nothing to do with it,” Billie told him calmly. “I told you, I can’t break the deal, because I wasn’t the one to make it. I can, however, make a call.”

And with that, her eyes rolled up into her skull, leaving the blank whites staring out at them all. Disconcerted, Dean glanced around at the others. Cas was still next to him, his presence solid, his eyes almost hopeful. Sam had herded Jack nearer the door in case they needed to bolt, though Dean knew that was more for appearance and instinct’s sake, neither of them were going anywhere, no matter how hairy things got. Jack was staring at Billie, looking pleased if not relaxed. Sam’s eyes met his and Dean wasn’t surprised by the conflict he saw there. He felt it too. He knew as well as Sam did that if he put all his hopes in this and it didn’t pan out, it would destroy him. Sam would back his play, of course he would, he wanted Cas to be happy and safe as much as Dean did, but Dean could see the deep concern there that he knew wasn’t for Cas. He looked away, back to Billie, whose irises were slowly sliding back into place, and the growing puddle of darkness that was beginning to materialise on the concrete floor.

Dean watched, feeling increasingly sick as the black, liquid-looking substance bubbled and rose and solidified into a vaguely humanoid form. There was no face, which was disconcerting as all hell, and the thing’s limbs were just a little too long and… wobbly to be truly human. It was making his brain fuzz over just looking at it. He felt Cas’ grip tighten on his arm.

“What do you want now?” The thing whined, it’s non-face turned in Billie’s direction. It’s voice was perhaps the most surprising thing about it, it was high pitched and nasal (which was impressive considering the thing’s lack of nose) with a slant to the words that Dean couldn’t place. He supposed ‘afterlife dimension’ came with its own accent.

“The angel wants out of his deal,” Billie said. “The humans wish to make what I’m sure will either be a heartfelt plea or some kind of threat.”

“You called me for that? Isn’t this over? Hmmm... I have God and His sister all nicely tucked away and sleeping. Why am I still awake?”

“Look...” Dean said to the goo-creature, and the head swivelled around on a too-loose neck. He stared at where he thought the eyes should be, trying not to be creeped out by the fact he had no idea if his gaze was being returned or not. He also wasn’t sure what tack to try here. He had no more leverage over this thing than he did the Grim Reaper, would it respect a strong stance or was grovelling the way to go? He would do it, if that’s what it took to let Cas live the rest of his life chasing joy. Hell, he would get down on his knees if it meant that he could finally return the words Cas had voiced not three weeks ago. His mind was spinning, but coming up a blank.

So Sam stepped up, taking slow, measured steps to stand at Dean’s other shoulder. “You’ve helped us out before, done Jack a solid when you let him come back and we appreciate that. We also know that you’ve got some issues with Cas and we’d really like to resolve those so that… so you don’t take him.”

“Yeah,” Jack piped up, moving to Cas’ other side. “We’d really rather he stay with us. Without giving up his happiness.”

“Cas is the main reason you still have a place to go back to,” Dean added. “Can’t you just give him a pass? More than anyone he’s earned that.”

“The little shit woke me up!” The creature screeched at them out of its non-mouth. “I haven’t been woken up in the history of ever until that feathered moron came along. All he had to do was sleep, yes, and he couldn’t even do that! So I’m taking him when I damn well please. I gave up my legitimate claim to you, nephilim, just to squeeze out every drop of revenge. You think I’ll go back on that now? Oh, no, no, no, not when the due date is so close, am I right?”

Dean blinked, suddenly getting the feeling that the Empty had stopped talking to them at some point and had started addressing Cas, who he felt perfectly still beside him.

“Am I right, angel?” The thing cooed, “You almost have your happy, don’t you? You’re holding it back by a mere membrane. And now it stands right next to you and tries to get me to change my mind. That has to be nice… seeing how he cares. How they all care.”

Cas said nothing, but in a quick glance Dean saw his lips press together, his eyes lower. The submission hurt Dean more than any outburst of rage at this creature who had stolen all the things that people lived for, everything that Cas had fallen for and given so much of himself to protect. It wasn’t fair that he was now just as cut off from it as when he was a mindless automaton. He should be angry.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do for me,” he said, still looking down at the floor. “But if this deal breaks, Jack’s soul is forfeit, and I can’t—”

“No it’s not.”

Every head turned to look at Billie, who was the picture of nonchalance, except for the gleam in her eye. “Jack’s soul will go to heaven.”

The Empty spluttered. “I think you’ll find nephilim are my jurisdiction.”

“They are,” Billie agreed, “but Jack’s not a nephilim anymore. Is he?”

Dean gaped in Jack’s direction. The kid frowned, then looked like he was concentrating really hard on something, and then surprise lit his features. “I’m human?”

“Your power was what was needed to defeat God,” Billie explained. “The exact amount of your power. No more, no less. It was never really yours anyway, it was inherited from your father. But you disowned him and chose a father of your own.” She nodded towards Castiel. “That severed the power from you, made your human soul separate from the archangel grace. In reality, Chuck was fighting two of you, Jack, and He was only able to destroy one. Of course, He thought the one worth destroying was the one with the power, leaving you as the other. Pure human. Which,” she smiled at the Empty, “is my jurisdiction.”

If the Empty had a face, Dean was pretty sure it would be glaring fire at Billie. “You’re on their side?” It screeched. Dean winced at the piercing volume. “You want me to break the deal. What? Are you going to keep me awake until I obey, yes? You can’t pull that lever twice, Reaper. I helped you with the old man and the dark one all on the promise that once this was over you’d let me sleep and I know you to be a being of your word.”

“You’re right,” Billie said evenly. “I will keep my promise, regardless of whether or not you help the angel. But I would prefer it if you did. As a favour.” Her eyes flicked briefly to Dean’s at that and a newfound well of respect for Billie threatened to spill out of his dumb mouth. He swallowed it back. He was pretty sure she could see his gratitude. She had already helped them by calling the Empty here, and it would have been more than fair for her to leave them to do the convincing, which he was pretty sure wouldn’t have worked on its own.

The Empty seemed to consider that; clearly weighing the benefit of having Death owe it one against whatever pleasure it would gain from torturing Cas. The decision took far longer than Dean was comfortable with and something snapped in him at the tense silence. His hand found Cas’ and he held it tight, ignoring the surprised look that melted into fondness on his left. He felt a hand land on his opposite shoulder and looked up into Sam’s face. There was a soft smile there, and pride, but there was a twitch in his eyebrow that begged him not to entwine himself so deep that he couldn’t disentangle himself if this all went to shit. Dean couldn’t bring himself to tell him that it was far, far too late for that.

“Hmmm...” The Empty said. “Well… There it is. Looks like Castiel just cashed in his happy.”

Dean’s head snapped around. Cas was looking at him, beaming really. His eyes glittering in the low light, radiant in a way that was different from his grace and far more beautiful. The hand in his gave a gentle squeeze, though there was fear in those eyes now, his moment of pure joy eclipsed by the fact that this could all be gone with his next blink. Dean brought his other hand around to clasp their already joined ones, as if he could just hold tight enough, then nothing could make him let go.

Seeing Cas afraid was like an icy fingertip sliding down his spine. He turned back to the Empty, readying himself to throw a punch or to prostrate himself on the ground and beg, or start another goddamn apocalypse just to draw the fear from those blue, bottomless eyes. It couldn’t end like this, not when they were on the precipice of whatever this promised to be, not when they could finally, finally start living for themselves.

“Please,” Dean said, his voice thick and unwieldy in his mouth. “Please let him stay with me.”

The creature hummed again, an irritating sound that buried into his skull. “Alright.”

It flicked one of its (too bendy) arms in Cas’ direction and the angel cried out in pain, dropping to the floor like a sack of bricks and dragging Dean down too where their hands were still clasped.

“Cas!” Dean yelled as Cas began a low moan that rose in volume and pitch and agony until it was a scream, and then his back arched so dramatically Dean heard it crack, and Cas’ eyes widened to the point of popping. In the next painful convulsion, Cas ripped his hand away from Dean’s.

“Cas!” Dean cried again, scrambling to get it back, to offer what little comfort he could. If these were going to be Cas’ last moments, Dean couldn’t bear the thought that he would have to endure them alone.

Cas’ lips were moving, but all that was escaping was a wordless scream. Dean shook his head, not understanding as Cas’ agitation only grew. He looked around at each member of his family crouched next to him, and terror dominated his expression.

“Eyes!” The word was strangled. “Help—”

Suddenly, the sound of Cas’ screams cut out at the same moment the world turned black. Dean’s vocal chords strained around Cas’ name, around Sam’s name, but he couldn’t hear either. He felt Cas in front of him, writhing and solid and silent, felt the hard concrete under his knees, felt the fabric of a jacket as he reached out blindly with his other hand. But all he saw was blackness. Fear roared inside him. He couldn’t see his family, he didn’t know what was happening to Cas. Had he gone blind? Deaf? Was Cas looking to him for a final comfort?

Worst of all was when Cas’ hand went limp.

Dean was pretty sure he was losing his mind. He was sure he was screaming, sure he was yelling himself hoarse, cursing the Empty, Billie, God. He dropped his hand from what he was pretty sure was Sam’s shoulder and moving it to his own face. He felt wetness there, sweat or tears he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that Cas wasn’t moving and he had no idea what to do except clutch that hand in between both his own and hope.

Just as suddenly as it had vanished, sound returned. He heard his own name in Sam’s voice and a moment later, his brother’s scared face materialised in front of him, and Jack was there too, his own face pale and scrunched in confusion and discomfort as he shook himself. There was also a horrible, burbling sound that it took him far too long to realise was coming from him. He took a deep breath to stop it and looked over at where the Empty and Billie had been stood.

They were gone.

“What the hell was that?” Dean asked, his voice raspy and worn out.

“No idea,” Sam said, looking a little ill. “But it really sucked.”

“Yeah.” As the adrenaline leaked away from his brain, leaving his extremities tingling, he flexed his hand and found he was still holding onto something.

Cas!

With a jolt, Dean looked at the still figure lying on the ground. His eyes were closed and there were black shapes on the floor extending from his shoulders.

“No,” He moaned, squeezing his eyes shut again, flashbacks of a cabin, of another joyous moment turned to ash, of a grief so heavy he’d buckled under it the first time, how could anyone ask him to even lift it now?

He heard Sam swallow next to him, clearly floundering for whatever words he thought Dean needed to hear.

He heard Jack’s breath hitch, then. “Wait. Look!”

Dean blinked heavily. Jack was staring at the black marks, then he reached forward and picked up a feather. Four inches long and inky black, the thing gleamed in the poor light. Despite the urgent pleas of his heart, Dean looked more closely at what he had assumed to be just scorch marks. There were more feathers. Loads of them, filling in gaps in the patchy outlines of Cas’ wings. They were how Cas’ wings had looked the last time Dean had seen their shadows; there weren’t enough feathers to make the wings complete, Cas had shed plenty over the years after all, but there were still dozens of them. All the feathers Cas had had left, if Dean were to guess. He didn’t know what to make of it and although he could hear Sam’s brain whirring as it tried to put the pieces together, Dean couldn’t quite bring himself to care what it meant. He leaned over Cas and smoothed the hair back from his forehead, numbness crawling its way along Dean’s limbs and tightening around his nerves. He arranged the body how he would if the pyre was already built, pretty sure someone was talking around him but unable to take any of it in. He adjusted the coat, laid Cas’ hands carefully by his sides, fixed the tie.

While he did that last one, his hand passed over Cas’ chest and he felt a flutter beneath his fingertips. He paused for a second and felt it again. Hope surged through him so fast it was painful. He pressed his palm to Cas’ chest and waited. Please, please, please, please, please.

Thump.

“He’s alive!”

Dean began to gently tap his fingers against Cas’ cheek, calling for him over and over again, his other hand feeling the steady, human beat of Cas’ heart.

“Come on, sweetheart, wake up.”

Cas groaned, the most wonderful sound that had ever graced Dean’s ears. All the air escaped him as Cas began to twitch, his eyelids fluttered and he blinked them open.

“I love you too,” Dean blurted out, physically unable to keep the words in any more. “I love you so freaking much Cas, and I’m real glad you’re not dead.”

“Me too,” Cas said blearily, pushing himself to a sitting position, only to be bowled over again by Dean launching himself into his arms. Corny or not he couldn’t help it. He needed to hold him, surround himself in Cas’ warmth and Cas’ smell and Cas’ love. He needed to feel the life around them. “You make me very happy, Dean.”

Dean said nothing, but he shoved his face in closer to Cas’ neck.

After a few moments he deemed himself recovered enough to pull back and help Cas to his unsteady feet. Jack moved in for the next hug and Cas’ eyes went soft with wonder as he embraced his son, finally allowed to feel the joy that such a gesture brought. Sam was next, pulling him into a sasquatch-worthy bone-crushing hug and whispering something that Dean couldn’t catch, though their grins were bright and a little teary as they separated.

Cas then looked down at the feathers scattered on the ground and bent to gather a few. “Angel feathers can be useful spell ingredients,” he said by way of an explanation as he stuffed them into his coat pocket. “And it’s not as though I have a use for them anymore.”

“You know, we could try and find a way… if you wanted...” Dean started to offer, and even though Dean wasn’t sure if the Empty had completely destroyed Cas’ grace or what and had no idea how to even start that quest, he knew with certainty that he would find a way if that was what Cas chose.

Cas was already shaking his head, a small smile on his lips.

“No. I think… I think I’m tired of being an angel. I don’t want to watch humanity anymore, I want to be a part of it. I want to enjoy this, every moment that I get to love and be loved in return is a treasure I never could have imagined before I met you.”

“So… home?” Dean asked, more than ready to start building the rest of his life with his brother, his son and this newly-human man who had never looked like more of an angel to him.

Cas nodded and reached for him, slotting their fingers together.

“Home.”

[loulougoingsolo]

My thoughts on Rhett’s story

Rhett telling the story of his spiritual journey made me feel more than I thought was possible for me, and this post is my attempt to put my feelings to words. I don’t know if any of what I wrote under the break makes any sense, but if you’re interested, go ahead and click through. Just in case, TW: religion and TW: mental health, although I didn’t really go into anything specific.

And because my text is a bit of a mess, if it leaves you with thoughts or questions, I’m open for discussion. Right now I feel like there is a bouncy ball going randomly around in my brain, and I need to spend the rest of this day in trying to make it stop.

I spent most of my 60 minute therapy session yesterday talking about all the things Rhett’s story on Ear Biscuits made me feel and think. I’ve been in a bit of a loop all week, trying to figure out why I felt so much. I’ve never really been able to believe in a god or a higher power, yet hearing Rhett tell about how painful his process of losing faith was, made me feel his pain, and somehow my own, and it confused the heck out of me.

I planned to write a more comprehensive commentary post about this Ear Biscuit, but every time I’ve started, my emotions have taken over me, and I had to skip the original idea of including the links to the books Rhett mentions. Instead of being factual, logical and scientific about this, I’m just going to explain how I felt, why I felt it, and what I think about all this.

So, I’m not religious. Most times, everything outside of logic confuses me. I want to know facts, and base all my decisions on the real things, and that’s just the way I am. I have serious trust issues in my everyday life, but in a way, also when it comes to spirituality. I also have serious issues with maintaining control, and the thought of losing this control freaks me out – in small things and major, life-changing things. Losing control feels like someone suddenly pulls the rug from under my feet, and I fall from an airplane without a parachute. Or as if I was first sitting safely in a boat, but suddenly, I was dropped into the ocean in the middle of open water, with nothing to hold on to, and no solid ground beneath my feet. At this point, if you’ve listened to Rhett’s story, jumping from a boat to water is how he described the moment he realized he could no longer believe in the god he had believed in for his entire life.

Rhett’s religion was based on the bible, and on a complete trust in god and Jesus. His faith was what provided him security, happiness, way of living and a path to follow. He had everything figured out, and all he needed to do was follow this path. There is such security in knowing what you are supposed to do.

I wasn’t raised to believe in god. I believed, and still do, in science and knowledge. At around the same time as when Rhett decided to pursue a path as being a missionary, and saving the souls of non-believers, I was absolutely certain that I had a similar path all paved and ready. I was going to be a science-woman, I  was studying environmental biology in the university, and was driven by my desire to save the world. I had found my passion for environmental work as a teenager, and everything in my life was directing me to this path.

Rhett had to really push himself over the years to be able to ignore his doubts. He wanted to believe, because his faith was the basis for his entire being. When he finally couldn’t erase all of his doubts, he suddenly had nothing to believe in – and even though he says multiple times he wasn’t traumatized by anything in the church, he most certainly experienced massive trauma when he had to let go of it all. He didn’t choose to lose faith, yet he did, and losing everything you believe in is traumatic.

Not believing in higher powers, and having all the trust issues I have, I’ve ever only been able to believe in myself. Too bad, it turned out around when I was 23, that I wasn’t quite as trustworthy as I believed myself to be. I’ve been socially awkward, anxious and a perfectionist for as long as I can remember, and because of my anxieties, I didn’t ever really get close to other people. I survived through high school and childhood mostly by being pretty smart and just clueless enough to actually realize if someone tried to bully me. I knew I never really had very good friends like the other kids, but I was an introvert, and perfectly happy on my own – and it was my fortune that I grew up in a small community, and went to school with the same kids from kindergarten to end of high school. Life was stable and safe. Too bad, it didn’t really prepare me for the big world, and when life got too complicated for me to handle, I lost faith in myself and was left with nothing.

I tried to be what I expected myself to be, and what I assumed my parents, the society, my high school teachers and everyone around me expected me to be. At 23, I couldn’t return to my university classes after the summer break, and I was in the deepest personal crisis I have ever been. I felt like a failure, and I felt I could never again face anyone I knew, because I had let them and myself down. I sought help, went to therapy, and at one point, realized that the path I assumed I would follow wasn’t for me. I had to tell my family I wouldn’t be going back to university. I had to accept that I couldn’t control all of my feelings with logic, and thus lost the foundation to my existence.

It took me quite a few years of therapy and rebuilding myself to get to where I’m at today. First, I found my joy of making art – something that the science life had almost successfully deleted from my life. I went to study jewellery making, and slowly started to believe in myself again – only to experience quite a few relapses along the way. Despite finding a new path in my life in doing art and making jewellery, I still had to come to grips with the fact that I was on the asexual spectrum, and bisexual, and I’m currently, with the help of my therapist and psychiatrist, figuring out if some of my lifelong problems might be based on being neurodiverse (I’ve been going to tests for this for a while now). All of this has forced me to accept that I can’t control my life quite as much as I’d like, and I’m still trying to find a balance between the logical and the emotional parts of what makes me, me. I feel so much more whole now than back 20 years ago, even though there are so many things I can’t know for sure.

Rhett had to rebuild his belief system, and re-evaluate what his core values in life were. He has gone through the painful process of telling his loved ones that he no longer believes the things they still believe, and he basically had to rebuild his marriage from a different perspective – and by the sounds of it, he and Jessie are now in a good place in their relationship.

What struck me most about listening to Rhett’s story is that despite him starting out as a devoted Christian, and me starting out as more than anything, a religiously scientific, somehow, in 40+ years, we’ve somehow come to many of the same conclusions, and despite the obvious differences, we have a lot in common. We both lost the foundation to our lives and had to rebuild ourselves on firmer ground.

I wouldn’t describe myself a hopeful agnostic, but I have to admit there are so many things in this universe I can’t fully comprehend, and even though I can’t believe in a higher power, I feel connected to everything in this world through nature. Thinking about the universe, I’ve understood that the human existence is such a tiny fraction of everything that sometimes it feels absurd how much time and effort our species has spent trying to explain it all. In the end, all religions are attempts to explain the things we don’t know for a fact, and what we believe is only the result of the culture we’ve grown up in. In the grand scheme of things, we are friggin’ small.

I need to end this (probably very incoherent) post before I get sucked into the loop again – but I also have to get this posted so I can get it out of my system. I think Rhett’s current philosophy of living his life the best way he can, and focusing on this one life he can be certain of instead of worrying too much about what happens after he’s dead, is a pretty good idea. In my own life, I’ll continue on my path of learning to accept myself with flaws and all, and instead of trying to fit into a specific box of any kind, I’ll focus on shaping my own kind of container. I still struggle with accepting that not everything can be controlled, but sometimes losing control can create something pretty amazing. I kind of lost the control of my emotions while listening to Rhett’s story, but after almost a week of processing everything his words brought to surface in me, I am grateful for him sharing his story. I’ve never felt more proud for being a Mythical Beast – being a part of this community has enrichened my life more than words can express.

[superfreakerz]

TDDUP 27

"Til Death Do Us Part"

Rated M for smut and heavy themes.

Reincarnation/Immortality AU.

Summary: There are immortals and there are those who reincarnate, but it's best to keep these things hidden. Lucy is attending college and meets Natsu, a boy with pink hair, a devilish smile, and a body that never ages.

Read earlier chapters on FF.net

Chapter 27

Winter Break

Patches of grey clouds littered the sky as they bestowed upon the city of Magnolia a thin sheet of snow. It was the first snowfall for the lively city, barely reaching an inch. Still, kids rejoiced as they did their best to pile up the powdery snow to form misshapen snowmen. They even crashed to the ground in fits of giggles, spreading their arms and legs to create snow-angels. Parents watched happily from the side, sipping on their hot chocolate in content. Others who weren't so fond of the icy blanket outside opted for staying indoors, cozying up by the fire with a book in hand.

That was how most people enjoyed their snow days. However, Lucy and her group of ragtag friends were spending the day a bit differently.

"Chug, chug, chug!" the group shouted as Gajeel and Levy shared a quick glance, shot glasses filled to the rim with vodka in their hands.

Not only was their enough cause for celebration with it being the first day of winter break for the college students, but the pair had also taken the next step in their relationship. Gajeel had popped the infamous question while they were alone in Levy's room, bent on one knee and holding a homemade ring in a shaky hand. With tears of mirth, Levy had accepted the proposal, making them engaged.

When they shared the news with the rest of their friends, it was no surprise that they were immediately thrown into a party at Fairy Tail- above the basement in the world of mortals.

Lucy wiped a happy tear from the corner of her eye, watching as the engaged couple downed a shot together. Words couldn't express how thrilled she was for Levy.

"Congrats again, Levy-chan," the blonde said, throwing her arms around her smaller friend.

"Thanks, Lu-chan!" she replied. "You better be my maid of honor!"

A squeal slipped past Lucy's mouth as she nodded her head frantically. "Yes, yes, yes! Of course! I'm going to help you find the perfect dress, find the perfect venue, and plan the most perfect bachelorette party!"

Levy laughed, shaking her head. "There's plenty of time for that stuff. For now, I just want to celebrate with all of you!" She slid a drink towards the blonde, grabbing one for herself as well. "Ready?"

Lucy accepted the shot glass, bringing the rim to her lips. Immediately, she realized her mistake as the foul stench invaded her nostrils. They counted to three before hanging their heads back and downing the shot. The vodka burned as it went down her throat, and in seconds, her belly grew warm. She'd always been a lightweight, which was why she only drank on occasion. She knew that in a couple of drinks, all common sense would fly out the window. But with such a joyous occasion, she couldn't care less.

"It burns!" Lucy exclaimed, waving her hand in front of her face as she set the glass on the table.

"That's 'cause you're a wimp," Gajeel mocked.

"Hey!"

"He's right," Natsu chimed in with a smirk. "You're a real lightweight. Seriously, I think your face is already starting to turn red!"

Lucy slapped her hands over her cheeks. "Is not!"

"Whatever you say, Luce!"

"Well, I don't care anymore!" the girl said with a pout. "My best friend just got engaged, and I plan on celebrating to the fullest! So come on! Drink with me!"

Natsu didn't need to be told twice. Clinking his glass against Lucy's, they took a shot together. Vodka wasn't his go-to drink, but since Erza ordered a whole bottle for their table, he figured he might as well help them out. It was better than letting it go to waste. Or worse, letting Lucy drink it all herself.

"Why don't you two join the rest of us?" Erza ordered, filling their glasses yet again.

Lucy nodded, facing the group. Squeezing her eyes shut, she drank the shot. She could already feel her head start to get heavy. Her stomach felt like a fireball was swinging around. The alcohol was already starting to do her in.

Time ticked on without anyone noticing. They were too caught up downing shots left and right and filling the bar with boisterous laughter. It didn't take long before they were all drunk. Even Gajeel, the one with the highest tolerance, was flat-out wasted.

Juvia was a crying mess, Erza was a menacing threat to all of humanity, Levy was on the floor laughing at the boys' demise, and Lucy whined for Natsu to pet her like a cat. It was all pretty typical for the drunken group.

"Natsuuu," Lucy drawled out. Her face was bright red, redder than Erza's hair. She was on all fours, oblivious to the stares she was receiving from everyone else at the pub. "Pet me!"

Natsu, who was also a drunken mess, shook his head. "N-No way! Quit askin' me to pet you, you weirdo!"

Tears crept up in the girl's eyes. "Fine! You jerk!" She hurried over to Juvia, resting her head over the other girl's chest. Together, they filled Fairy Tail with their incessant wails.

"How is it that even though we're drunk too, we still have to take care of them?" Gray asked, his words slurred.

Natsu shrugged. "I better get Lucy home. She's gonna have a bad hangover tomorrow."

As if her hearing was enhanced with the alcohol, the blonde whipped her head towards him with a pout.

"I don't wanna go home!" she complained, clutching tightly onto Juvia.

"Too bad," Natsu replied. He rose to his feet, grabbing onto the edge of the table to regain his sense of balance. "We gotta pack tomorrow, remember? You're always naggin' me about packing in advance. C'mon."

"No!"

"Lucy."

"I don't wanna!"

Natsu sighed. The alcohol was slowly starting to leave him tired. "I'll pet you nonstop if you agree to come home."

At that, Lucy's eyes lit up like the miniature Christmas tree that sat by the register on the counter. "Okay!"

Saying goodbye to their friends- which took much longer than he anticipated thanks to Lucy giving each one of them a unique goodbye speech- Natsu locked his hand with hers to keep her steady. He shouldered most of her weight as they walked home. With their inebriation and the slippery snow beneath their feet, they had a few slipups on the way before they finally made it back to her apartment.

Stumbling inside, the two plopped onto the couch. Just as he promised, Natsu brought his fingers to Lucy's chin, petting the bottom of it. She purred underneath his touch, scooting closer to him with a dopey smile on her face.

Natsu's eyes landed on his wiggling fingers before trailing down to the girl's neck. Her bare neck. With that, he was instantly reminded of his failure to find her locket.

It'd been almost a week since Lucy returned home from her trip. He wanted to find her locket and prove that she was an immortal just like the rest of them, but wherever Lucy put it, it was proving to be impossible to find. Without it, he didn't have a lick of proof. All he had was his intuition.

He glanced up at Lucy. Her cheeks were still pink, her golden locks were a disheveled mess, and even though she was sitting down, she couldn't help but sway side to side unsteadily. She was still drunk. Hell, drunk was probably an understatement. She was utterly intoxicated.

"Hey, Lucy…" Natsu began, peeking up at her.

"Hmm?" she replied, cocking her head to the side. Her eyes were half-lidded, proof that she was probably tired from the alcohol. There was a pretty good chance she wouldn't remember the night.

Natsu swallowed thickly. He wanted to know the truth. He needed to know. But he couldn't just ask. That would've been too much of a risk, and he wouldn't have just been risking his own identity. He would've been putting his friends at risk too, and he could never do that to them.

But that didn't mean he couldn't nudge her in the right direction a little bit.

"Do you believe in immortality?" he asked. His fingers stopped their movements as he was too concentrated on her reaction to keep petting her.

Lucy blinked once, then twice. Her face hadn't changed in the slightest, causing the tiny sliver of doubt within Natsu to grow.

"Hmm…" she started, rubbing her chin in thought. "Nope."

"No?"

"Nope."

Natsu furrowed his brows. "But you believe in everything! You believe in aliens and ghosts- hell, every time we watch a documentary on some sorta conspiracy, you believe it right away!"

"Well that's different," Lucy replied with a pout.

"How? How is that different?"

"I don't know. It just is!"

"So you don't believe in it at all?"

Lucy shrugged. "Not really. But that would be a really cool idea for a novel! Let me get my journal!" She shot up to her feet. Her legs gave out on her and she went falling forward.

` Natsu caught her, gently pulling her back down onto the couch.

"How 'bout we just go to sleep now and you can write down your idea tomorrow?" he suggested, stifling a sigh.

"But what if I forget?"

"I'll remind you."

"What if you forget?"

"Trust me, that'd be impossible for me to forget it. Now c'mon. Let's get you changed and in bed."

Lucy nodded, following Natsu to grab some pajamas. With her unsteady legs, it took a while for her to change, but once she did, it was like a wave of exhaustion washed over her.

Natsu settled in bed beside Lucy, gently tracing circles over her shoulder to help her sleep. In seconds, he could hear her faint snores. He stared at the back of her head, caught up in his thoughts.

Releasing a soft sigh, the boy frowned. He was starting to think that he was wrong. The sliver of doubt from before now consumed him, driving away all belief that she could ever be an immortal. Perhaps it was just his hope wrenching its way into his brain and jacking up his ability to think logically.

At the end of the day, Lucy was a mortal, and he was an immortal. Whether he liked it or not, their story had an end. And it was a tragedy.

Lucy threw up for the umpteenth time, tears streaming down her face as Natsu held her hair back for her. Her face was dotted with sweat, her head felt like someone was hitting it repeatedly with a baseball bat, and the dim light of the bathroom was making her irritable.

"How's your head?" Natsu asked, smoothing his hand over the girl's back.

Lucy grumbled in reply, shaking her head.

"C'mon, I'll go make you some breakfast!"

"I think that would just make me even more sick," Lucy said, forcing herself to her feet. Narrowing her eyes at him, she asked, "Why don't you ever get hungover?"

Natsu shrugged, giving her a nonchalant grin. "I don't know. I just don't. My tolerance is just higher than yours."

"I'm jealous. I always feel like death after drinking."

"It was fun though. Well, 'sides you asking for me to pet ya all night."

"As my boyfriend, it's your job to pet me when I'm drunk. Deal with it," Lucy said, grabbing a glass of water and sitting at the table. Opening her laptop, she signed into her school account.

"Whatcha doin'?" Natsu asked, sliding onto the seat across from her.

"I'm checking to see if the grade for my story got posted."

"It's only the second day of winter break. You really think that he graded it by now?"

Lucy shrugged, clicking her way to her profile. "I had to turn my story in before the deadline since I couldn't be there the last day of class since my trip was extended."

Her eyes widened as a notification popped up on the screen, alerting her that a new grade was posted. With bated breath, she clicked the necessary links to take her to the new grade. Writing meant everything to her, and this story in particular was very personal and special to her considering it was secretly about her own life. She desperately hoped for a good grade, but with Capricorn's strict grading guidelines and her shortened deadline, she kept her expectations low.

Taking a deep breath, she clicked the final link. There at the top of the screen was a bolded 'A-.'

"I did it," she breathed out, her eyes nearly bugging out of their sockets. "I did it! I aced it!"

"Really?" Natsu asked, his lips curling into a grin almost as wide as hers. "I toldja you'd ace it!"

She beamed at him before returning her gaze to the screen to read the feedback she received.

Miss Lucy, your story was wonderful. I had to deduct some points due to some misspellings and grammatical errors. However, your story kept me at the edge of my seat. I could feel the risk you took in every word. Reincarnation is quite the interesting topic, isn't it? Anyways, you did an excellent job. My favorite part was the ending. I am very relieved that Iris learned to live with her curse and found a happy ending for herself. I hope you do well in your endeavors, Miss Lucy.

Tears pricked the back of Lucy's eyes as she reread every word, then she read them again. Hearing such feedback lifted the weight on her shoulders. It was everything she wanted to hear. Now, she had confidence that she would have made an excellent writer if it wasn't for her reincarnation getting in the way. She didn't need fame or fortune, she just needed to know that she was good.

Shutting the laptop, Lucy smiled to herself.

"So, when are you gonna let me read that story of yours? It's gotta be good since you got an A!" Natsu exclaimed, leaning forward in excitement.

"Hmm, never," Lucy replied. She went to put her laptop away, ignoring Natsu's whines. Her mind was too focused on Capricorn's words.

I am very relieved that Iris learned to live with her curse and found a happy ending for herself.

"Happy, huh?" Lucy thought with a hum. Glancing over her shoulder to find the love of her life casually sitting at her table, she smiled. "Yeah. I am pretty happy now."

"You got enough clothes?"

"Yep."

"Are they warm? We're going to a ski resort, you know?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know! I told you, I'm good to go!"

"What about your toothbrush?"

"Yeah, I got- wait. Nope. I forgot to pack that. Gimme a second."

Lucy rolled her eyes as Natsu walked past her to pack his toothbrush. Thinking over all the essentials she would need on their trip, she doublechecked to make sure she didn't overlook anything. Enough layers to keep her warm in the snow, her writing journal in case she was hit with a stroke of inspiration, and a book to read both on the road and in the cabin.

Once Natsu came back, rolling his luggage behind him, she gave him a pointed stare.

"You sure you're ready to go this time?" the girl teased.

Natsu rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Everyone's waiting outside for us outside. C'mon, Lucy!" Grabbing her hand, he raced towards the door, dragging her behind and barely giving her enough time to lock the door. Excited was an understatement of how he felt about going on his first trip with Lucy.

"Hey, guys!" Lucy greeted with a wave as Natsu threw their luggage in the trunk along with everyone else's.

"You're late," Erza reprimanded. "What took you two so long? You should have been packed already."

"I know, I'm sorry! I was just so hungover yesterday, I ended up sleeping through most of the day."

"That's alright," Jellal said with his signature kind smile. "Let's just get going now. If we beat the traffic, we can make it in time to go skiing today."

The group roared with cheers, jumping in the van they rented before getting on the road.

"Oi, turn the music on!" Natsu exclaimed. He, Lucy, and Erza sat in the middle row of seats while Jellal, Levy, and Gajeel sat in the back. Gray, being the only one in the group with a license, drove while Juvia took the passenger seat.

Gray was about to turn on the radio when Erza spoke.

"Wait," the redhead ordered. "First, I want to explain the details of our trip."

Natsu hung his head back with a groan. "Who cares about the details? Let's just have fun! It's winter break!"

"A trip is only as fun as its preparation."

"Can't we just-!"

Erza's fist rocketed into Natsu's gut, leaving him out cold. Clearing her throat, she continued, "Anyways, I shall now explain the details of our trip."

Everyone nodded their heads frantically, their faces pale out of fear of being the next one on the receiving end of one of her devastating punches. Lucy rubbed Natsu's head sympathetically.

"As you know, we will be going to Mt. Hakobe," Erza said. "With the low traffic, we should be able to get there before dark. We'll be able to do some skiing this evening. As for sleeping arrangements, we will split up in cabins by couple."

"By couple?" Levy asked. "That has to be expensive! How did you manage to book that?"

Erza grinned smugly while Jellal gave an uncharacteristic pout.

"Let's just say I have some acquaintances in the business. Anyways, the next day we will be snowboarding. After that, we will pack our things because we leave the next morning."

"I'm so excited! I haven't been snowboarding in forever!" Lucy exclaimed, clasping her hands together. She used to go on trips with her parents from her first lifetime.

"Oh yeah? You good at snowboarding?" Gray asked, glancing at her through the rearview mirror.

"I wouldn't say I'm good, but I still have a lot of fun doing it! What about you guys?"

"Gray is actually really good at skiing and snowboarding," Levy said. "But he's even better at ice hockey."

"Psh, like that's impressive," Gajeel jabbed. "Those are all the wimpy sports. I could flatten him in football or wrestling any day."

"In your dreams," Gray replied. "Just wait, Gajeel. You're gonna be begging for my help when we get there and you're fallin' on your ass every two seconds."

Lucy sighed. "Can't we just go one car-ride without anyone starting some sort of petty argument?"

It was at that moment that Natsu finally regained consciousness. He lifted his head off of her lap.

"Nope."

Arriving at Mt. Hakobe, they parked in front of a quaint cabin before grabbing their luggage.

"This will be Jellal and I's cabin," Erza stated.

"Wait, shouldn't this be mine and Juvia's?" Gray asked. "You know, since we drove and parked here, and the rental car is under our name?"

"No. Anyways, you can find your cabins by walking in that direction," Erza replied, pointing down the road. "We've rented the three cabins next to this one. Drop your stuff off and get ready for skiing, then meet us at the grounds."

Not wanting to start an argument with Erza about who should get the cabin closest to the grounds, the group walked away. Since Levy and Gajeel just got engaged, Lucy suggested that they get the next cabin. Natsu was willing to fight for the third, but considering Gray was the one to drive them all the way there, she let them get that one. That left them with the cabin farthest from the grounds.

Lucy's face was red from the cold by time they reached their cabin. It was about a fifteen-minute walk from the grounds, as all of the cabins were separated for customers' privacy. Unfortunately, that left them far from the activities and the local shop.

"Bet you feel good about giving everyone else the good cabins, don't you?" Natsu said, his voice laced with sarcasm.

Lucy shot him a glare. "If I had known how far it was, I wouldn't have suggested it."

"Nah, I bet you still would have."

"…Alright, fine. I would have."

Natsu shook his head with a chuckle. Even though the cabin was far, it was still pretty nice. There was a queen-sized bed, stacked with thick blankets and pillows, a desk, and even a TV. The bathroom was small, and the standup shower was sure to put a slight damper on his girlfriend's mood, but it was bearable.

"This place is pretty nice," Lucy said, letting out a low whistle. "The bed looks really cozy."

Natsu grabbed her hand, pulling her flushed against him. His lips were curled in a crooked grin as he replied, "Oh yeah? How about we test it out real quick? Make sure it's up to your standards."

Lucy's face burned bright red, her heart leaping up into her throat. "Uhh, I-"

"I'm kidding, Luce. Erza would kill us if we took too long meeting up with them. In fact, she's probably already thinkin' about how to punish us for being late."

"You're right. Let's go. Oh, but first…" Lucy slid her hand over the slight bulge in his joggers. She stifled a laugh as she felt him harden from her touch. "Alright, now we can go!"

She quickly turned away from him, her hair swaying behind her. Natsu grinned, running to catch up to her.

"You're a lot more evil than you lead people to believe, you know that?"

"Yep."

"It's nice of you two to finally join us," Erza said, her voice stern as they approached. They were standing at the bottom of the chairlifts to take them up to the mountaintop.

"It's not our fault!" Lucy whined between breaths. "Our cabin is the farthest away!"

"No excuses. Now come. Gajeel challenged me to a bet on who is better at skiing and I intend to win."

They went in pairs onto the chairlifts. Lucy made the common mistake of looking down as they went feet in the air. Her feet tingled, her stomach churning. She was about to comment on how high up they were when she heard a strangled whimper coming from her side. Glancing over, she found Natsu slouched over the rail, his cheeks puffed out.

"Oh no, is your motion sickness acting up?" she asked, smoothing a hand over his back.

Natsu couldn't even wrangle out words, instead having to nod weakly.

"We'll be at the top soon, don't worry!"

Though, the lift was a lot slower than she expected. It took them nearly five minutes to reach the top, and by then, Natsu's face was dotted with sweat. Hopping off, he collapsed beside Gajeel, who was also inflicted with a bad case of motion sickness.

"Pathetic," Erza said, rolling her eyes at the two. "Jellal, Gray, Juvia, and I will go grab our equipment. Lucy, Levy, you guys stay with these two."

By the time Erza and the other returned with the gear, Natsu and Gajeel were back on their feet, their cheeks slowly starting to gain back their color. Gray showed everyone how to properly use the equipment, to which Natsu and Gajeel scoffed, saying that anyone with half a brain could ski.

"There are different difficulty leveled hills," Levy said. "Beginner, intermediate, and expert. I don't know about you guys, but I'll be staying on the beginner hill."

"Juvia will join you," the girl replied. She gave Gray a quick hug. "Juvia would stay and watch, but-"

"Don't worry, Juvia," Gray interrupted with a smile he saved for her. "You don't hafta watch me. I want you to have fun too."

"Okay! Good luck, Gray-sama!"

With that, she followed Levy to the beginner hill.

Natsu stood close to Lucy.

"You aren't gonna join them?" he asked.

Lucy shrugged. "I've been skiing before. I think I can handle the intermediate hill."

"Oho, you scared of goin' down the expert one?"

"It's more like I have a brain telling me not to bite off more than I can chew. What about you? You think you can handle it?"

"I know I can! Just watch!"

"Oh please," Gray chimed in. "You're gonna go tumbling down the hill. I'm not callin' for help if you need it, you know."

"You're the one who's gonna need someone to call for help after I'm done kickin' your ass!" Natsu replied, about to lunge for the other boy when Lucy grabbed him by the collar.

"Will you two just enjoy this vacation instead of trying to fight at every chance you get?" she said with a sigh.

"I agree," Erza added. A dark shadow loomed over her face as she continued, "Besides, there is no time for fighting. It's time to see who is the best at skiing once and for all."

"Well, you guys have fun with that. In the meantime, I'll be on the intermediate hill."

"I'll join you, Lucy," Jellal said, walking with her.

Once they were out of earshot, she asked, "What? You don't want to be in a competition with your wife?"

"Oh no. She would kill me if it meant winning."

"That's… endearing?"

"It's okay. You can say scary."

"Good. It's scary."

"I know."

Standing at the top of the hill, Lucy positioned her goggles over her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she scooted herself down the hill until she started to glide over the smooth snow. The faster she went, the faster her heart pounded in her chest. She could feel the wind in her hair and the snow beneath her feet. As the slope started to decline, she slowed to a shaky stop.

"That was great, Lucy," Jellal said, trudging next to her.

"You were better!" she replied. "Seriously, you can handle the expert hill."

"I know, but I wouldn't want to be there with such a fierce competition happening."

"Oh yeah. I wonder how that's going."

"Care to check it out?" Jellal asked.

Lucy nodded. "It'd be good to make sure Natsu isn't buried under ten feet of snow."

Unbinding their boots, the two headed towards the bottom of the expert hill. Immediately, they found Erza standing over a hunched over body.

"Erza?" Lucy called out. She was about to question who was hunched over when she saw tufts of pink. Rushing over, she asked, "What happened to Natsu?"

"Oh, nothing," she answered with a shrug. "His motion sickness just started acting up, so he went tumbling down the hill. He's not hurt too badly. Gray is over there making sure Gajeel is okay."

Lucy helped Natsu into a sitting position. A gasp slipped past her lips as she found blood trickling from his nose.

"You're bleeding, Natsu!" she said. "Come on, let's get you back to the cabin. We'll see you guys tomorrow."

"My stomach…" the boy groaned being forced up to his feet. He was thankful Lucy kept him steady on his feet. He was even more thankful that it was just his nose bleeding and not another part of his body. It would've been pretty hard to explain why his wound just miraculously healed on its own.

Then again, he could always get her drunk enough to black out and forget about it like last time.

Lucy guided Natsu back to the lift. If his stomach wasn't churning enough before, it had to be swirling around like a washing machine going back down the mountain. Lucy did her best to try and help him, combing her hands through his hair and humming a soft tune, but it didn't help at all. His motion sickness was worse than usual.

Once they finally made it back to their cabin, Natsu was feeling considerably better. His stomach had started to calm, his nose stopped bleeding, and his face regained its color. He tore off his boots and plopped on the bed with a sigh. The corners of his mouth were tugged down in a pout.

"Are you upset that you lost the bet?" Lucy asked, moving to sit by him.

Natsu shook his head. "I'm annoyed because my motion sickness ruins everything. Riding in cars, dates with you, trips with our friends, it's always gettin' in the damn way!"

"Nobody is upset with you for it!"

"Yeah, I know. But still. I just wanna have one good day without it ruining everything. Tomorrow is gonna be the same way."

"Hmm. Are you feeling better right now?" Lucy asked, quirking a brow.

"Yeah, but not enough to go back on the chairlift. Why?"

The girl hopped out of bed. "Come on! Let's go get you some motion sickness pills! That way, you'll be able to have fun tomorrow!"

"It's a long walk, and I know you're tired from having to help me all the way here," Natsu replied, his frown deepening.

"I don't care about that! I want you to have fun on this trip, so let's go!"

Natsu rose to his feet with a smile. "Alright. Thanks, Luce."

"Don't mention it," she replied, flashing him a grin of her own. Sliding her hand in his, she laced their fingers together.

Stepping outside, a shiver ran up Lucy's body. The snow was thick on the mountain, blanketing the ground. During the time that it took to carry Natsu back to the cabin, the sun had started to set. Now, the sky had turned black, stars twinkling overhead.

Snow fell from the sky, covering the path that led to the store. Luckily, Natsu already knew where they were going. Lucy had a feeling that if she was separated from him, she'd get lost immediately considering the cabins were so far from each other and they were surrounded by woods. Lampposts were scarce.

"So, who ended up winning your bet?" Lucy asked, glancing up at Natsu.

He pouted like a child. "That damn stripper did. But that's only 'cause I was sick! If I wasn't, I woulda won!"

Lucy nodded. "Mhmm. I'm sure you would."

"Is that sarcasm I'm hearing?"

"Well, it's just that Gray is known for being good at this stuff."

"I can beat him!"

"Then you can prove it tomorrow since you'll have your motion sickness pills," Lucy said with a chuckle.

Natsu gave a face-splitting grin. "I'm all fired up!" He was about to continue when he heard the snow behind them crunch. Throwing a discreet glance over his shoulder so that he wouldn't worry Lucy, he looked for the source of the noise, praying there wasn't a bear there. Not finding anything, he shrugged the noise up to be a squirrel and faced forward.

However, once he heard another crunch in the snow, he stopped in his tracks.

Lucy glanced over to Natsu. His gaze was serious as he looked behind them. Worried, she followed his gaze, only finding a thicket of trees.

"Natsu?" she called out, her voice laced with concern. "Is something wrong?"

He ignored her, keeping his eyes peeled for any movement. His gut was telling him that something was wrong, and he trusted his gut.

"There's something there," Natsu whispered.

Lucy's eyes widened, her heartrate speeding up. "W-What? What is it?"

"I don't know."

"Are you sure it's not just a squirrel?"

Natsu shook his head. "My gut is telling me it's something else."

Lucy clutched onto his arm, whipping her head around to survey their surroundings. "S-Should we run?"

"Running could just trigger whatever it is." Taking slow steps back the way they came, he looked for any clues as to what was out there with them, lurking behind the trees. It could have been a bear, a wolf, even a mountain lion. Whatever it was, he had a bad feeling about it.

He was about to take another step forward when he found a trail of footprints in the snow. They were human.

Natsu heaved a sigh of relief. "Very funny, Gray. Come out already, idiot."

They heard a rustle of a bush to their right, along with crunching snow as someone stepped out of the woods. Wearing a black hoodie, their face was covered.

"That's not funny, Gray!" Lucy scolded, planting her hands on her hips as the man approached. "I thought you were a bear or something!"

Natsu eyed him. The closer the man got, the clearer it became that he wasn't Gray. He was shorter, his walk was different, and even Gray wouldn't try to scare Lucy that badly. Stepping in front of Lucy, Natsu glared at the hooded figure that stood just a few feet in front of them.

"Who the hell are you?" he spat.

Lucy's brows shot up to her hairline as she glanced between the two. Looking over Natsu's shoulder, she watched as the man removed his hood, revealing shaggy locks of dirty-blonde hair. Under his eyes were dark bags. His eyes were bloodshot.

"U-Umm, hello?" she called out. "Who are you?"

The man pulled a shaky hand out from his pocket. Lucy's stomach dropped to the ground as she found a gun in his hand pointed directly at Natsu.

"O-Oh god," she breathed out, tears immediately pricking her wide eyes. Her stomach felt like it was doing flips, her shaky hands flying to her mouth.

Natsu sucked in a sharp breath, a rush of fear washing over him. All color drained from his face, not of fear of being shot, but fear that the man was going to hurt Lucy. Holding his hands up in surrender, he inched closer to Lucy so that he could shield her.

"What do you want? Do you want our money?" Natsu asked, his voice low.

The man nodded. His eyes were brimmed with tears and he was shaking like a leaf. It was obvious this was his first time doing anything like this before.

"I-I need it," he said, his voice unsteady. "I-I have a family and I need to do whatever it takes to take care of them."

Natsu nodded, slowly reaching into his pocket to grab the few bills he brought to buy the motion sickness pills. It was only seven dollars total. Swallowing thickly, he slowly held his hand out to the man.

"This is all we have," he said, hoping he could reason with the distraught father and get him to walk away.

The man looked at the money and shook his head, tears streaming down his face. "You're lying!"

"I'm not lying. This is really all we have."

"You expect me to believe that? You rich people are always coming to this resort and flaunting your money around like it's nothing! I know you have more! Hand it over!" The man shook the gun, threatening to shoot.

Lucy took a deep breath. Before, she was never afraid of death. She knew that if she died, she would just be born again moments later. Now that she had Natsu, however, she was terrified of dying because it meant she would never be able to see him again.

But if it meant he got to live, she would die a million times.

Lucy glared at the man as she stepped in front of Natsu, the gun just feet away from her chest.

"Lucy!" Natsu shouted. "What the hell are you doing!?"

Ignoring him, she spoke only to the man in front of her. "It's obvious you don't want to do this, so don't. Just walk away and be with your family."

"Shut up!" he yelled, fisting his hair with his unoccupied hand.

"Your kids don't want money, they just need you to be in their lives. If you pull the trigger, you won't be there to support them anymore because you'll be in jail. Is that really what you want?"

"I said shut the hell up! You don't know what it's like! Just hand the money over!"

"We already told you, we don't have any."

"Quit lying to me! I am so sick and tired of being lied to!"

Lucy's eyes narrowed at him. "We both know you aren't going to shoot. Just go already!"

The man ran a hand through his hair. "I-If you don't give me the money, I'm really going to shoot."

Lucy stood her ground, daring her luck by taking a step closer to him. "Then do it already! I'm not afraid! Shoot!"

Natsu's heart felt like it was beating a mile per minute as he kept his eyes glued on the gun. It was pointed directly at Lucy's chest. He could tell the man was getting antsy.

"I-I can't go to jail," he said, his hand shaking violently.

"Then just turn around and go," Lucy implored. "We won't tell anyone about this, we swear."

"I-I don't believe you."

"It's true! You have my word! We won't tell anyone!"

The man swallowed thickly, shaking his head. He let out a shaky breath. "I'm so sorry."

Natsu watched the man position the gun directly over Lucy's heart. His fingers tightened around the gun.

And then he pulled the trigger.

[bonsaiiiiiii]

FabFiveFeb 2020 - Gordon, week 2

No clothes- prompt 4

(Made another one with @gumnut-logic 's prompts! It's a bit longer than the other. Hope you enjoy it!)

Today was a big day. And not in a positive sense.

But at least it started good.

It started with me and Virg cuddling, well, like always. We were cuddling in bed, kissing sometimes, and talking about irrelevant things just to pass the time together.

It was useful also, because I learnt something from him, naturally he learnt something from me too, like my drive-by shooting and other things that made me take sleeping pills to not be taken by my sleep paralysis demon. He's the only one that knows that.

It was a bit painful opening up about this event, but I learned so many things..

For example, that Virgil has a flower-shaped birthmark on his right butt cheek.

Could you ever guess? Yeah, me neither.

So we were in his bed talking and kissing when we heard some screams and a loud thump downstairs. We looked at each other in the eye, to then rush downstairs, where the sight was horrible.

Two of the chairs of the dining table flew to the terrace, the little white rose that I planted fell to the floor, making a mess and leaving a big trail on the floor; but what preoccupied me the most was the flower pot broken, its pieces shattered on the floor, and some of them...

"Scott! What the hell happened to you?!" I shouted in horror; his face was all bloody, and that's where were some of the pieces of the pot I couldn't clearly see on his forehead. Implanted there. "Come with me.."

Virgil looked at me apprehensively; he knew that I was going to remove the pieces and not him, and he gave me his full permission because he trusts me to put my hands on his big bro. That's what he trained me to do also, and well..also because apparently I have a surgeon degree and I have to use it at some point in my life?

Scott on the other hand was completely and totally okay with me 'operating' him, because he trusts me like Virgil does, and he has faith that I can be good and excel in what I dream for. This makes me tear up, because for once in my lifetime I have someone caring for me and supporting me, and I'm glad for that.

"Who did this to you?" I asked him while I started cleaning and disinfect his face; he made a grunting noise practically hugging my torso, mumbling something I could decipher as "it hurts".

"Resist until I'm done." I affectionately said patting his head. He slowly nodded.

"Gordon." He said after a moment of pause.

What has Gordon got to-ah.

"Why did he do this to you?"

"Well..he came to me, asking me if he could swim again after his hiatus, I mean professionally, and I told him that this wasn't a good idea, with all he's got to do now."

"Yeah, but I mean, you must have told him something else that made him explode like that. You know he is angry often for what you always say to him; but I've seen him explode just two times, and this was one of these two." I said, starting to remove carefully some shatters.

He grunted again. "I think it's the tone I used with him; I was harsh and violent, just because I don't want any distraction now that we found dad again."

"You shouldn't have used that. Don't you think that he wants his dad too, as much as you want him to come home? Maybe swimming is a way to express his emotions, like always. Reconsider this, and take in also the others' emotions apart from considering yours." I said sweetly but sternly to him, removing the last pieces of shatters from his head. Once I was done, I put 2 stitches to his head and one on his bottom lip, along with some bandages. "Please avoid to chew your lip, or I'll find you and castrate you after everything I've done."

He widened his eyes for a second, to then hug me affectionately, this time normally. "Ah, if you want to search for Gordon, he took a pod and got away from the island, I have no idea of where he is. I'm not searching for him because I know he doesn't want to talk to me."

I hugged him back. "I will talk to him when he returns back, but after that you will need to do it. Don't be harsh, okay? He has too much on his platter just like that, don't add fuel to the fire."

"Okay, thank you, Litchi."

"Don't call me like that! I'll personally break your head!"

🌊🏝🌊🏝🌊🏝🌊🏝🌊🏝🌊🏝🌊🏝🌊

Now we're in the middle of the afternoon, and I'm baking a cake. The others got in a compicate rescue, and won't be there until dinner time. Now it was 4 PM, and I just got the vanilla cake in the oven. I sat on the kitchen chair, finally relaxing, when I heard a loud thump again.

Gordon.

I got up, and the more I was approaching to the living room, the more the air smelled like...mayonnaise?

I finally got to the living room, and what I saw left me shook.

Gordon was sitting- well, he was sprawled on the couch of the living room, naked as the day he was born.

"Oh gosh, Gordon!" I whispered, immediately covering my eyes. I made him the sign to lower his voice because grandma was sleeping upstairs.

"Hhhhiii, t-t-turn down the lighsssss.." God, he's so drunk. The curiosity took the better of me, and I looked at him though my fingers. I noticed just now that he wasn't completely naked; his body was all covered in...what are these?

"Are you kidding me? Froot Loops?" I looked at him with my hands off my face.

"Cheeee-ros were ov'r."

"And I assume you're covered in..mayonnaise?"

"Y'h" he scrambled his eyes. "The lighssss." He asked me for the second time in 5 minutes.

I got to the light switch, turning it off. He immediately made a squealing sound, demonstrating happiness.

"Can I ask you why in the world you're with no clothes on? And drunk asf?"

"Clothesss, impeding airrr. You'r hair, issooooo pretty!" He got closer to me, but I put him back down on the couch. He pouted.

"Don't change the subject, pufferfish. Why are you drunk?"

"Bec'se Scott's an ass." He scrunched his eyes and nose again.

I huffed. "Wait here for me."

I got upstairs and to his room. Gosh, this man is a mess, just like his room. I walked around, avoiding clothes and suits of all sorts, and got to his closet.

"Umm, let's see.." I took out an oversized shirt he likes to wear when he sleeps, then I got to one of his drawers and took out a pair of boxers. "It should be okay." I then got to his en-suite bathroom and got two clean towels. I soaked one of them in cold water; then I got downstairs.

I gave the clothes and the towels to Gordon, instructing him to wash himself with the wet towels, then to dry himself with the another, them dress up. He grunted.

I then got to the kitchen, taking a beer glass, one of these capient 0,6 cl, and filling it with water. I got back into the living room, giving the glass to Gordon. He looked at me with wet eyes.

"Th'nk u." he drank the water, starting to feel better instantly.

I was about to sit, when John's hologram popped up. "Alice-"

I raised a hand, gesturing to him that we would talk later. He smiled to then nod and close comms. He knows me what it takes to know that it's not the ideal moment for him to interrupt me.

"Do you think...that-that I am a failure?" Gordon said with his eyes full of tears. Goshhh, he started with his sentimental side again. Last time I found him drunk he was hugging a table crying.

"No. You're the best pufferfish I ever knew, and I'm honest." I paused for a second, sitting near him on the couch. Eugh, I will need to take a shower later. "I talked to Scoot, you know?"

"I don't wanna hear from him."

"He didn't mean to be violent to you, he just wants his dad back, and he behaved badly. You know the Aries, how stubborn they are."

"Yeah..I will need to talk to him, later. Now I just want to swim. I wanted to ask that to Scott for a long time but I never found the courage to do it.."

"You can swim now, but not after a shower, puffy. You smell."

"Thanks." ??? What? Why?

"Um, you're welcome?"

"Thank you for assuring me that I'm not a burden..a failure.."

"You def aren't. Who would be my best twin in the world?"

"Me?"

"Yes bro." I hugged him affectionately. "Love ya."

"Love you too. Y'know, you're like mom."

I paused reassuring him, looking at him, breathing.

"Just- just because I'm born the same day as her, it doesn't automatically make me your mom. I'm nothing like her."

"That's not true. It's the way you behave. You have mom's way to solve problems. You have mom's way to care for the others. You have mom's way of talking and reassuring. Even if I'm the same age as you, I am and will always consider you as mom. You didn't take her place, you just filled the empty place mom left us. Everyone thinks that, even Virgil."

He paused when he saw tears coming down from my face. He knows how much did Virgil shout to me for his mom's incident, but that's a story I don't feel like talking right now.

"I know you had your problems on being accepted by him, but he told me the other day. What we all were thinking since the day you came here, he is certain of now. I ask you only one thing, don't change your personality, because we all love you for what you are, and not for what we expect you to be, even because we don't expect nothing better than yourself."

I hugged him practically crying. Gosh, I was supposed to make him feel better but he was actually the one to reassure me.

"I'm sorry." I said. "You probably feel like a shit right now, but you still reassured me."

"It was my choice to. I actually feel better right now, so don't worry. And I know you needed that; it's one of the reasons you take your sleeping pills for."

I paused breathing again. "How the f did you know that?"

"Intuition." Someone told him that. "I won't tell anyone, talk to the others when you feel to."

"Okay." Just then I noticed he was starting to feel better. An idea flashed inside my head. "You're feeling better?"

He looked at me, then nodded. "Yep. Like nothing happened."

"Good! Then take a freaking broom and sweep all of this shit from the floor, put the chairs back behind the table and FUCKING REPLANT MY ROSE, YOU STUPID BIT-" I was screaming, but now it didn't matter, I heard grandma walking upstairs a few minutes ago.

"OKAY! I will do it! Look, I'm going!"

"Go faster! I'll break your head if you touch my flowers again!"

He nodded repeatedly, to then stop in his tracks.

"Don't you smell something burning?" He turned to me.

"Your next 10 minutes if you don't mo- OH, the cake!" I forgot about it! I rushed to the kitchen while Gordon was laughing; he stopped when I threw him a shoe.

(Should I continue? I didn't want to reveal too much of Alice until my main fic is out, but eh, idk. I tried my best :D)

[darkpoisonouslove]

“What Is the One Thing That Can Never Break?”

Summary: Griffin's not eating, not sleeping, not taking care of herself. She's only working, hoping to prevent Valtor and the Coven from hurting anyone else. No matter what that means for her. She already got hurt anyway. Set after Griffin joined the Company of Light.

Here is an idea that was lucky enough to be remembered after I managed to forget it and I might have gone a little overboard with executing it. Warning for a lot of angst. Please, tell me what you think since this was my first time writing about some of the characters and I want to know how I did! Thanks and enjoy!

A noise in the quietness of the palace typical for that time of night irritated Griffin’s hearing but she ignored it along with her own heart skipping a beat. If anyone was trying to sneak up on her, she wouldn’t have heard a thing. She was safe at Marion and Oritel’s palace. The Coven couldn’t reach her there. It wasn’t herself she needed to worry about. It was everyone else.

The culprit soon gave himself away. Oritel’s armor didn’t do much for stealth clinking in its signature pattern with every step as he approached her. He was always ready for battle to the point where it had made her wonder if he ever took it off. But when he and Marion had announced the news of her pregnancy, it had become clear that they both still had lives outside the war. And Griffin had been happy for them, shutting out all parts of her brain that were hissing it was madness or somehow unfair. It was a miracle that they could retain some happiness in the midst of everything that was happening and relief flooded her system every time they proved that not all was lost. Even if she didn’t deserve it.

She focused harder on her work to convey she was ignoring him on purpose and force him to leave her alone. She needed to work. And he needed to go back to his wife.

He didn’t.

“Won’t you be retiring for the evening?” his voice startled her with the failure of her strategy. “It’s quite late,” the words echoed like a response to her thoughts, like Lysslis’ cackle after one of her illusions had left you shaken by your worst fear and Griffin clawed at the walls of her own mind not to fall into the pit of her memories.

“I still have work to do,” she said, controlling her voice and herself to stay calm. The easiest way to win an argument with Oritel was not to start one in the first place. Not because he always had the right argumentation, but because he was too stubborn to convince no matter how obvious the truth was. It would be ill-advised to fall into that rabbit hole this late at night when she was tired and everyone had already gone to bed. She didn’t want to wake the whole palace by starting a shouting match with him, which was usually the case. Her collected attitude had to convince him she didn’t need his interference so that he’d go back to his queen.

“It will be there in the morning,” Oritel tried, his tone quiet and relaxed–so unlike the king she knew–as if he didn’t want to start a fight either but the fact that he was still there made his best intentions insignificant.

“Debatable,” Griffin gave a curt response, incapable of anything better without exploding. If the Coven struck at night, in the morning their job would be to find what was stolen and return it–and that would only happen by winning the war–instead of preventing them from taking it in the first place and adding more power to their magical arsenal. And that was the best case scenario. Sometimes there were bodies–more and more often–and they couldn’t do anything about that except bury the dead and accept defeat. Try not to let it repeat. But it had repeated too many times already for them to sit idly by and wait for the next strike. “We need to figure out the Coven’s plan.” They needed to get ahead of them if they wanted to save anyone.

“Surely it will be clearer in the morning, with fresh eyes and a rested mind,” Oritel kept his composure in the face of her stubbornness–especially since she hadn’t raised her head from her notes to acknowledge him as she spoke–and she didn’t know whether to be offended or to give him points for trying a logical approach. Either way, it couldn’t sway her will.

“No time for that,” she shook her head as she hastily moved some sheets around to create a feeling of alarm and restlessness that had him shifting uncomfortably under the subconscious influence of her tactic. “The Coven works day and night,” she brought up her knowledge of their process to push him away. He resented the fact that she’d worked for them and she understood. She did too. That would never change. Neither for him, nor for her. “We have to do the same,” she circled the table to force him out of her way physically and figuratively as well.

“I’ll get someone to look at these while you get some rest,” Oritel didn’t get the cue even though he knew better than that.

Griffin’s head snapped up and she glared at him where she’d left him isolated in the middle of the spacious hall. She’d taken over it and turned it into her own kingdom. “I am your best strategist.” Because she knew the Coven so well. Her value lay in the fact she’d made a grand mistake before finally opening her eyes but if it could save lives, she was ready to swallow all unpleasantness that came with that.

“And that’s why I need you in top shape,” Oritel objected. She had to give him credit for keeping himself in check but his cautiousness only made her blood boil. Now of all times he chose to be patient, when they didn’t even have time to breathe freely, not to mention sleep.

“I am more than capable of handling this,” she snapped at him. She’d left herself no choice. She’d left herself no peace when she’d decided to work with the Coven. No rest for the wicked indeed.

“If this is because of the nightmares…” Oritel came closer, leaving her cornered, and the possibility of him trying to provide some comfort by touching her was more terrifying than what he was talking about.

She stepped back, running from the memories of burning fear creeping through her that only Faragonda and Marion’s warm hands in hers and their soothing voices could rid her of. She’d been tempted to pretend that those were illusions she was made to see and not her own dreams. But her torture was her own conscience catching up with her. Too late. It was all too late.

“They’re under control,” she made sure the same held true for her body language even if it was too late for that, too, for Oritel had already seen the truth. Nightmares couldn’t find her when she wasn’t sleeping. Which left her face to face with the horror of reality. But at least she could be useful there. She wasn’t paralyzed by fear. She could help others to keep herself going.

“Griffin, you have to sleep,” Oritel insisted. The firmness of the words as well as his conviction that he knew best brought her a sense of normalcy that she could use even when she didn’t deserve it.

“I will when I feel the need.” She couldn’t remember when was the last time she’d slept well. Probably before she’d learned that the arms that had hugged her every night were those of a soulless killer. Before she’d realized she’d given her heart to a demon. She couldn’t waste time sleeping when he was still out there threatening the entire world in his thirst for power and greatness. Especially after she’d helped him. “Go back to Marion, Oritel,” she held his gaze through the look he was giving her.

You’ll break.

She couldn’t.

()()()()()()

There was a knock on her door. Just on schedule. Marion and Faragonda had become the prison guard checking on her periodically to make sure she was resting and not wrecking her brain over another strategy. As if trying to save them all and win the war was something bad.

She ignored it, pretending she’d finally given in to sleep–though, her recent sleep patterns didn’t lead naturally to that conclusion–so they’d leave without getting in the way of her work. She didn’t have time for the fight that would occur if either one of them were to enter now. She was tired of interrupting herself to hide her most recent project from them as if she weren’t in her own room and didn’t have the freedom to choose what to do with her own time. She was doing the right thing this time and she didn’t need guidance to avoid making a disastrous choice. She just needed them to stay out of her way.

The door opened behind her back, the creaking sound beginning the test of her patience.

“I don’t recall inviting you,” she snapped, harsher than necessary. Marion’s title didn’t give her the right to barge into her room at will. Faragonda wouldn’t be so impolite.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Marion came in and closed the door unmoved by her protests. She had always been strong-willed but refrained from acting like entitled royalty. Telling herself that she was doing it for Griffin’s own good wasn’t a good reason to change that now. Griffin’s right to make her own choices wasn’t revoked by the terrible mistakes she’d made in the past. Or at least they hadn’t informed her of it being taken away.

“I am,” she snipped back without looking at Marion. Technically, it was true, though it could hardly pass for rest. She had sheets strewn around all over the bedspread and the position she was sitting in was killing her back. Her head ached from the numbers swirling in it and her wrist hurt from all the writing. Still, her location on the bed provided her with a smartass comeback that was sure to annoy the queen.

“Yes, just you and all of this paperwork. Seems really cozy to me,” Marion bit back as she came closer, towering over Griffin despite being shorter when they were on equal footing. She bent down to pick up one of the sheets making Griffin pause with her gaze still trained on the paper in her hands but the thoughts in her head were halted as she waited for a reaction. “What is this?” Marion’s voice was quiet now that the contents of the sheet were sinking in.

Griffin looked at the queen slowly, afraid that if she wasn’t careful, she’d break her, afraid that a quick movement would be too much of a shock for the pregnant woman after the digits had left her paralyzed. “The number of casualties the war is taking,” Griffin answered in the same tone of voice Marion had used even though the paleness of the queen’s face indicated she’d already figured that out.

Marion’s gaze shifted to her as she threw the sheet back on the bed as if it had bitten her, her eyes wide like saucers from the panic setting in. “Where did you get it?” she wrapped her arms around herself to shield herself and the baby from the horror invading her system. Her words sounded strained as if she was holding back from taking the information by any means necessary in her desperation to learn whether the digits she’d seen were real and not just one of Lysslis’ cruel illusions.

“I’m calculating it,” Griffin wasn’t too terribly quick to answer. Once the words were out, Marion would know the numbers weren’t a lie. They were painfully real. And that wasn’t even the entire tragedy. “It’s not even finished yet.” It was already so high. Too high. And it would keep growing if they didn’t put an end to the war.

Marion closed her eyes and shook her head as if to get rid of the terrible knowledge and erase all traces of it from her memory. Her hands were on her arms still and she hadn’t moved them over her belly like Griffin had expected her to. She probably didn’t want to connect her unborn child with the reality of the war even in her mind. Which was all the more reason for her to stay out of Griffin’s way and let her work her magic to keep them safe.

Marion looked like she’d snapped out of the grip of the fear when she opened her eyes and cleared a spot on the bed, her movements unhurried and driven by determination, before she sat down and locked eyes with her. “Griffin, you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” she said, her voice full of compassion despite the seriousness she put in the words. There was no irritation at the fact that they were having that conversation for what felt like the millionth time, though, which could not be said about Griffin.

“This isn’t about guilt,” she tried to speak as calmly as she could manage, for showing any annoyance would only make it seem like she was deflecting, but the look in Marion’s eyes made it clear that she didn’t believe her. Probably because the slow pace of speaking was getting on every last one of her nerves. “This is about perspective,” she said, and this time the desperation was in her voice. She needed Marion to understand. “It helps me get some, remember what’s at stake, what we’re fighting for.” She needed that. She needed it more than oxygen when she knew the Coven and it was already hard to believe that they stood any chance against it. And some days they beat them so easily, as if it was a game they were playing, and she felt like crawling into a hole and dying herself at the thought of the people that had perished because of their incompetence. Because of her terrible choices. “Besides, I’m looking for patterns,” she went for a more logical approach as well. Anything that would work. “Granted, most of it is just senseless bloodshed,” she had to look away as she felt bile rising in her throat at the knowledge that it had been him behind some of the carnage at least, “but if there is even the slightest chance to find something that could help us beat them, then it’s worth every second,” she forced herself to finish as she clutched at her pen as hard as she was grasping at straws when it came to defeating them.

Marion’s hand on hers startled her back into reality and she should have been grateful. She never wished to return to the Coven, not even in her thoughts. But the warmth of Marion’s skin made her grip loosen and her determination slip through her fingers, leaving her confused and lost, for it wasn’t what she needed to feel. “Is it worth the wreckage in your head?” Marion asked as if she could see into her mind to almost make her jerk her hand out of her grasp even though that clearly wasn’t the case since she still had the desire to touch her and offer her comfort.

“We need to protect the universe from them.” It was cruel to make her reminding them all of that when she’d been the one who hadn’t realized it on time.

“By tearing ourselves apart?” Marion was convinced that she was trying to steer her away from self-destruction when it was too late for that. The choices that she’d made were like land mines just waiting to explode in her face in her inability to avoid them after she’d been the one who’d planted them. It only made the blow worse when she had to step on all of them if she wanted to reach her goal.

“By any means necessary,” Griffin pulled her hand away, the action leaving her dangerously close to the edge of the bed. “If they win, nothing will matter.” How did they keep forgetting that after witnessing the ruination the Coven had caused? Maybe it was because they’d never been on the inside of things. They didn’t know the Ancestral Witches personally and they hadn’t seen their capacity for evil in the plans. But she had. And it refused to leave her head, hand in hand with every other realization that had come along with the truth about them.

“I understand that,” Marion’s still calm tone was more insistent now, as if conveying a subtle order to Griffin to believe her and drop the subject.

“Maybe,” Griffin spoke, her expression cold like it never would have been in the face of a plea. “But I don’t think you realize what it means.”A wave of heat coming off of Marion meant that the queen now understood her own frustration with the way they’d been treating her as if she didn’t have a clear grasp on the situation. “Daphne will never be queen. The baby may never get to live,” her words were painful to herself but if awakening Marion’s selfishness and self-interest was what it took for her to understand where she was coming from and let her protect them all, it was worth the low blow.

Marion’s hands instantly covered the barely noticeable baby bump to protect the small life inside her from hearing the words. “I know that, Griffin,” she said, her gaze lost somewhere in space as she blinked back tears. “It’s all I’ve been able to think about,” she admitted in a whisper that was so loud it managed to cut through Griffin’s own selfishness to leave her wishing to comfort Marion and shield her from her own words. “But punishing yourself for things that aren’t your fault will not help,” Marion was quicker to speak, eyes focused on Griffin again, begging her to stop hurting herself as if Griffin hadn’t just been the one to push a knife into her back with her behavior.

“It’s a good thing I’m not doing that then,” Griffin said firmly, her gaze cold again as she met Marion’s. She was only berating herself for the mistakes she’d made. It was just a coincidence that those were big enough to take over her entire life.

Marion’s look changed at the face of her stubbornness.

You’ll break.

She couldn’t.

()()()()()()

Griffin didn’t lift her head from the book she was reading at the approaching footsteps sending a clear signal to be left alone. Of course, nothing ever went her way. Whoever the steps belonged to wasn’t deterred by her disinterest in them or the fact that libraries were intended for reading, not conversation. They invaded her personal space and slammed a full bowl of soup down on top of her book.

She looked at it scandalized for a moment before her gaze moved to the culprit. Hagen.

He kept chewing on his own portion unbothered by the death glare she was sending him.

The two of them upheld the staring contest for a minute–she counted the seconds to refocus the anger rising inside her with every wasted but it only flared up as she went through the numbers instead of diminishing as intentioned–with him not breaking eye contact even when he shoved another spoonful of soup in his mouth while her hands clenched in fists. His gaze didn’t leave her face for a moment and finally moved after sensing the rising tension in her or reading it behind the annoyance she was keeping her expression to.

“Eat,” he motioned with his spoon towards the bowl he’d left on her open book and a greasy drop fell from it. It missed the pages by a hair.

He was a man of few words but his behavior was rude and unacceptable without including his carelessness when it came to the books. It was preposterous of him to order her around like that.

“I’m working.” She turned back to her book. She paused at the sight of the food as if it was violent magic threatening to blast her. Just looking at it made her stomach spasm, ready to push its contents out of her system. She wouldn’t be able to eat for weeks after what she’d witnessed the previous day.

“You need to eat,” he didn’t give up, drawing her attention back to him.

“Not right now, I don’t. I need to finish my work,” she stressed the words to get them in his thick head before pushing the bowl of soup away demonstratively but with enough care to avoid spilling its contents all over the pages.

“You skipped breakfast this morning,” Hagen had her whipping her head in his direction, the motion radiating murderous rage that didn’t phase him in the slightest. “And you also didn’t eat at dinner last night. Come to think of it,” he paused with his still full spoon in midair, “I haven’t seen you eat in the past two days. Save for that cookie you ate with the tea Faragonda forced you to take a break for,” he let his spoon back into his bowl and pushed the one he’d left for her back towards her, nearly spilling it over her and the paper.

Griffin jumped up from her chair and almost sent it tumbling to the ground. “Okay, first of all,” she waved her hand sharply, “I don’t know what the hell you were thinking when you brought food into the library.”

“That you have to eat,” Hagen stared her right in the eyes that had to have caught fire by now.

“Secondly, how dare you interrupt my work?” Not to mention her angry rant. Who was he to keep tabs on her food intake?

Hagen opened his mouth.

“And thirdly,” she raised her voice to keep him from speaking, “why are all of you suddenly trying to be my babysitters?” If even Hagen was acting the part, then she couldn’t expect any of the rest of them to leave her be. They would all be fretting over her as if she was a baby when she needed to be left alone to work in peace.

Hagen looked at her for a moment in a way that left her vibrating with the need to move and peel the stillness off her body. He was acting like he had some divine knowledge that she was incapable of understanding. “All of this would go so much smoother and easier if you’d just take ten minutes to eat instead of arguing with anyone who’s worried about you for half an hour.”

Since when was he the wise one? The spiritual guide that was leading them all through life? Last time she’d checked he’d been acting like a smitten teenager, unable to handle his crush on Faragonda. He wasn’t qualified to give life advice where she was concerned and she was burning with the desire to throw all of that in his face and watch him crawl away to lick at his wounded ego but she never got the chance.

“Both Faragonda and Marion are worried sick about you, and rightfully so.” Ah, so that was what it was all about. Now at least his interest in her well-being made sense. “You think nobody saw how you almost fainted yesterday?”

Her heart skipped a beat at the mention and she clenched her fists to keep them at her side instead of covering the wound in her chest. If he’d seen it, there was proof it had happened and she was dying to push that fact out of her mind and erase it altogether like it had never existed.

“You were seconds away from smashing your skull against the floor, no doubt from exhaustion,” Hagen continued, his voice rising as he left his bowl on the table. Oh, he was getting serious now. Enough so to tear himself away from his lunch for a few seconds. How could she not appreciate the sacrifice? “You may not care about yourself, but have mercy on Faragonda and Marion at least because they care too much for you.”

She had to throw the bowl of soup in his face. Both of them. Maybe it would snap him out of his overprotective haze and allow reality to sink in. All over the magical dimension people were dying and leaving mourning families behind. If there were any survivors after the Coven’s raids. And there he was, yelling at her to care when that was exactly what she was doing only to have them all getting in her way.

“I almost fainted because of what we saw on our last mission.” Flashes of red flooded her mind, constellations of blood in some kind of sick tribute to her, tainting her passion for the stars that she’d foolishly shared with him believing it would remain pure with his fingertips all over it. “And that is why I haven’t stopped working,” her arms moved of their own accord at the impulse to hug herself and start rocking back and forth. It was too hard–impossible–to forget even without being reminded of it. Without being reminded of him and that he’d ever existed. “The Coven won’t have mercy on anyone so I can’t afford to stop for food or to spare anyone’s feelings.” Not even her own. She had to figure out the Coven’s plan which would leave her face to face with him. And that was the last thing she wanted to see. But they had to win. And the only way to do that was to go through him. Even if it meant sacrificing her own heart in the process.

“Then stop to save people’s lives,” Hagen reminded her that he was the one she was currently facing and she was glad–probably for the first time ever–to have him standing in front of her. “You won’t be of any help to anyone if you’re unconscious.” Even if he was trying to use logic against her. That was her strong suit, not his. “If you pass out, Marion won’t let you out of bed at least for a week and Faragonda will proceed to babysit you for the rest of time.”

That last part had Griffin grumbling as she sat down and pulled the full bowl of soup towards herself. She would never call the argument compelling–it was the last thing she wanted to hear–but it was true. She choked down the nausea and forced a spoonful of soup into her mouth and down her throat. She couldn’t allow anything–not even their concern for her–to get in her way.

Sometimes she wished they’d never come to care for her and would instead just tolerate her like some of the other members of the Company did. Or better yet, she wished they’d killed her during one of those battles when she’d still been working with the Coven, before she could have made the dark forces so powerful. It would have saved them a lot of trouble.

“What is it you’re working on that’s so important?” Hagen looked at the books, his own bowl in his hands again. He was proving to be a welcome distraction from the spiraling thoughts in her head even if he accomplished it by awakening a budding sense of alarm in the back of her mind as he was looming over her book in a constant threat of destroying it if he accidentally spilled his soup over it.

“I’m studying the magical artifacts and powerful spells of each realm trying to figure out where the Coven will strike next,” Griffin said now that her work wasn’t getting frowned upon so aggressively. The knowledge she had on them and how they operated could be used to foretell their next move.

The Ancestral Witches weren’t stupid, of course. They knew she was well acquainted with the Coven’s inner workings so they were trying to throw her off the trail, some times more successfully than others. Like the day before. She had to keep analyzing quickly and carefully if she wanted to be able to oppose them.

“Do you even taste the flavor of the soup?” Hagen asked, his eyes trained on her face and his look something she could happily live without.

She studied him for a moment trying to process the question, trying to understand why it mattered. “Not really?” her voice wobbled with the lack of an idea of where he was going with that.

“You can’t just stop living,” Hagen used the fact that she still hadn’t rolled her eyes and looked away to get through to her. And in all fairness, that was exactly what she had to do but she couldn’t find any ulterior motive to his words. It was clear why he wanted her to eat but that didn’t mean that he had to keep her company or take care of her mental health and emotions. “If anything, you should live fully since each day can be your last,” Hagen said, uncharacteristically open, especially on a topic that they all looked to avoid since it was too raw and painful to discuss.

She hadn’t expected a heart-to-heart from him but it was true. Just like it was true that she died a little every time she remembered why she’d been working for the Coven, every time she remembered how she felt and why she’d left. Living fully was not an option after the choice she’d made. Surviving was all that was left, although physical death would at least put an end to the torture in her head. She still had to fight for everyone else.

“Let me worry about that,” she let the spoon fall back into the bowl. He’d just reminded her what was at stake. She was done with her break.

Hagen shook his head when she pushed the bowl with the remaining soup away.

You’ll break.

She couldn’t.

()()()()()()

She’d opened her mouth, the yell bubbling in her chest only to be stuck there when a hand closed around her bicep and pulled her away from the soldiers, who were relieved to have her off their backs. She turned to bite off the head of whoever had disregarded any respect for her personal space and autonomy. Her teeth sank into her own tongue instead at the sight of Saladin’s serious face.

“Let them catch their breath,” he hissed at her quietly. He was never one to make a scene, even when he was angry. She had to thank him for not drawing more negative attention to her, and she would if she weren’t right next to him on an emotional level. “They just came back from a battle. They’re tired.”

That was the whole reason why she’d been fishing for details. She needed to know every little thing that could help her make life easier and safer for all of them by predicting the Coven’s plans. It was why she hadn’t even waited for them to get out of the infirmary. Time was of the essence.

“We have no time for rest,” she snapped, drawing a few angry gazes to her back. “We have to figure out what the Coven is doing next.”

“You weren’t in such a hurry when you had to leave them,” Saladin bit back, his voice hushed again so that no one would hear him.

No one but her. The only one his words would hurt since everyone else would agree with him. Valtor had become so powerful because of her. And the Coven had benefited greatly from her strategies. She’d done so much for them that nothing would have been the same without her.

“I’m sorry,” Saladin’s apology was much louder despite the shame that was accompanying it. But it hurt more to hear him blame himself rather than her.

“For what?” Griffin asked, all of her irritation draining away to leave only the emptiness of resignation. “The truth?”

“You’re not guilty for our current situation,” Saladin was always quick to reassure a friend and had easily figured out the direction of her thoughts. Much easier than foreseeing the Coven’s plans was for her. Because Saladin truly was her friend and had cared enough to pay attention and learn to read her. And she was repaying him by forcing him to regret saying the truth that she didn’t like to hear.

“Valtor wouldn’t have become nearly as powerful if I’d just left sooner.” And neither would have she. Their partnership had taught her a lot and had helped her cultivate many skills. But that hardly mattered at the moment. He was doing far more damage than she could prevent and she never would have needed all the power she’d gained if she hadn’t boosted the Coven as well. “I should have never joined them.” If she’d been on the side of the Company from the start, everything would have been different. It would have been better.

“He would’ve found another partner.” The hasty dismissal of her point squeezed her heart with a vengeance.

Griffin shook her head. He wouldn’t have. No one else would have done for him what she had. No one else would have fallen in love with him, unlocking immense power in their convergence. They’d been unstoppable together and it had been clear to anyone who’d ever faced them where that synchronized power had come from. Saladin didn’t want to acknowledge it because it was inconvenient for his argument.

“He wouldn’t have come so far without me,” Griffin mentally shoved back at the memories of all the lines they’d crossed together, all the things she had to regret and not let them in her eyes from where they could leak out into the open and finish her. They had to stay locked away, for they were too offensive to the world she was fighting to protect and the feelings that accompanied them were too dangerous for her to allow herself to fall back into them.

“You’re not responsible for his crimes,” Saladin wasn’t helping, his words pointing to inability to understand the situation at best or willful ignorance in order to spare her feelings at worst. He was acting as if he didn’t know what a partnership entailed, as if he hadn’t seen her work in total tandem with Valtor.

“But I am responsible for my own.” Valtor hadn’t held a weapon to her head. She’d joined him willingly, had done everything of her own volition. She’d killed people with her own hands following her own plans. “I stole spells and artifacts that he’s still using to win the war. What I did makes him powerful even now that I am here.”

She’d taken some of the artifacts with her when she’d left but there’d been too many for her to restore all the losses she’d caused. She’d stolen too much to be able to fix it all on her own. Her only chance was through the Company and she couldn’t stand it when even that failed, for there were no other options. There was no other way for her to be able to live with herself.

“I am responsible for so much evil and I have to fix it before he gets to destroy anything else.” The tears were taking over her eyes just like the thoughts of Valtor were doing to her mind even though she’d promised herself to never let him touch any part of her again, and it was all too much. She needed to go work and collect herself before she could break down.

“Griffin-” Saladin’s voice died in his throat when an agonized hiss left her at the touch of his hand on her shoulder before she recoiled. “You’re injured,” he barely managed as if he couldn’t comprehend what he’d just witnessed, his mind on the other side of the time gap between the last time she’d been on the battlefield and the present moment, and that wasn’t a short distance. She was mostly wielding the books these days, constantly changing and refining her strategies to make them more effective and tracking down Coven members for the rest of the Company to catch.

“I’m fine,” Griffin did her best not to snap as she refrained from touching her shoulder. She just had to hope her face wouldn’t betray any of the pain she was in. The tears had been chased away by the shift in her emotions now that her attention was directed towards the physical injury and the main crisis had been averted.

“No, you’re not,” Saladin insisted with a firmness in his voice that was never there when their arguments were of a more aggressive nature, but now his driving force was care. For her. “You should have that checked.” He looked like he had half a mind to grab her hand and drag her to the medical personnel watching the whole time to ensure she got treated, but was afraid that he might discover another injury she was hiding if he dared touch her again. The warmth of his friendship offered so readily was making it hard to pretend she was okay and more physical contact could make her facade crumble.

“And have the Coven hurt more innocent people while I’m having a minor injury prioritized over the safety of the whole world?” she snapped to keep him away and remind them both what was important. Her shoulder hurt like a bitch but it was nothing compared to the hit she took every time they failed in their mission. “It will heal,” the words didn’t bring her any comfort, “but the people they’ll kill won’t come back.” That was what they had to focus on. It was the only thing that mattered. “We have to act before it’s too late and not repeat my mistake.”

The look Saladin gave her hurt with the pain her behavior was putting him through.

You’ll break.

She couldn’t.

()()()()()()

She heard the quiet steps on the gravel and didn’t try to turn away or pretend she wanted to be left alone. Because it was Faragonda and because she didn’t want to be left alone. That was the thing. She’d never wanted to be alone but the loneliness resided in her no matter how many people were around.

Faragonda sat on the bench next to her–Griffin had had half a mind to just sit on the grass but that would’ve drawn the attention of anyone who happened to walk by even at that late hour–and wasn’t surprised when she saw the tears falling from Griffin’s eyes. She was worried with her eyebrows slightly knit and her lips pursed and that made Griffin wish to turn away again but she didn’t. Faragonda was her best friend. Of course she’d be worried about her. Griffin was worried about herself. Even if the reasons behind that were vastly different from those of her friend.

Faragonda wrapped her arms around her and drew her to herself into a hug that Griffin selfishly accepted even though she shouldn’t have. She needed some comfort, some warmth, and she couldn’t push it away when it was right in front of her just because she didn’t deserve it.

“Won’t you ask me why I’m crying?” she nudged quietly because that was all she had strength left for but it had to be done. She needed Faragonda to do it. Needed her to ask so that she could get it all out because Faragonda was her closest friend and she couldn’t lie to her no matter how much she wanted to. She would be forced to admit what was going on in her mind.

“No.” Such a firm answer. Denial strong enough to make her bleed. Faragonda believed she knew her well enough to tell what was going on inside her head when she wasn’t even sure herself. All that she knew was that it was terrible and she couldn’t put an end to it. And Faragonda couldn’t do it for her because she had no idea what was happening in her mind right now–though, it had been going on for quite some time–and Griffin needed to stop pushing before she could reveal all of that to her. She couldn’t be selfish enough to burden her with that too. She’d already burdened them all with plenty and her personal problems had to stay just that.

She took a deep, shuddering breath as she held on to Faragonda, fingers clutching at her clothes and her head rested on the fairy’s shoulder, though her body was as tense as ever. “Won’t you tell me something to help stop my tears?” That would be the second best thing, small mercy granted to her because her tears were proof of the worst.

“No,” Faragonda whispered as she pushed the hair out of her face so that it wouldn’t stick to her skin and tickle her nose.

The gentleness only had more tears flowing. The fairy was always there for her, ready to help her, but this time she couldn’t. The only way to help her was to carve her heart out and Faragonda would never do that even if it was for her own good. Which meant there was no point in telling her. There was no point in hurting her, too.

“You need to let it out,” Faragonda said, making her wonder if perhaps she did know what was torturing her. She combed her fingers through Griffin’s hair in slow, soothing motions just like her mom had used to do when she’d been little and reminded her of home. The home she’d betrayed by passing its secrets into the wrong hands. Just like she’d done to herself.

“I cry myself to sleep every time,” she sniveled, hating herself for the pathetic sound. It didn’t happen often as she barely slept anymore but the fact that it happened at all was indicative enough of the seriousness of the situation. Maybe admitting it would get something out of Faragonda. Something that… She didn’t even know what she was looking for. Just something that would make it all at least somewhat bearable.

“We’ve all been through so much. Especially you.”

The words were the exact opposite of what she’d been hoping for, especially in Faragonda’s tired voice that was usually mellow but now just sounded drained, and all of a sudden her body gave off the same impression, too, with her fingers just barely moving through the purple locks. As if she didn’t have the strength to be optimistic and all she could do was sit passively and let the events sweep her away as they played out.

“It’s impossible to just keep going on like a robot,” the monotone tone reminded perfectly of one and it was grotesque coming from Faragonda no matter how much Griffin wished she herself could be a robot. Just some parts that Hagen had scrambled together. No emotions, only following orders. Blameless. “You try to focus on the goal but it’s still too much,” Faragonda’s words pulled her out of her fantasy that was as far from reality as her friend was from her usual self. “What we’ve seen, what we’ve been through… It’s something impossible to live with,” Faragonda’s hold on her loosened, her body going limp against Griffin as if all of her energy went into simply getting the words out of her system. “Because even if we win, it will never go away but we have to fight because losing will mean the end of everything.” The words kept going on and on relentlessly, feeding Griffin’s tears and the pain tearing through her heart. She was only thinking of herself when her friends had to go through all of that.

“It’s all my fault,” she cried out, interrupting Faragonda, the agony too strong to allow her to remain selfless and listen to someone else’s problems for once. All she did was burden them with herself and everything else that came along with that. And even if she didn’t want to trouble her friend anymore, she couldn’t keep the words to herself because that was the harsh truth. She’d ruined everything. It was all wrong. Not a single thing had been okay ever since that day…

Faragonda’s voice reached her for a moment through her weeping and the guilt that had cocooned her in its suffocating embrace, “Griffin-”

Her crying drowned out the rest but she didn’t need to hear Faragonda or even look at her to know the persistent worry in her mind.

You’ll break.

She couldn’t.

()()()()()()

Griffin looked at the mirror in her bathroom. Her colorless skin and the dark circles under her no longer bright eyes were pointing insistently towards sleep deprivation and exhaustion even though she’d just woken up. She’d been pulled away from the only place where she could be with the man she loved, for he didn’t exist. It had all been in her head while in reality she’d been sleeping in the bed of a demon. Still, she remembered the warmth of his skin and the security of his arms around her, making it seem like she’d lost something real, like she’d lost everything.

Her reflection spoke the truth that none of the others could see even when she couldn’t hide it from herself no matter how desperately she wished for that.

You won’t break.

She couldn’t. She had already broken. Her life was in shambles, her heart was in pieces, her soul was in halves one of which she no longer even had. What more was there to break?

[dogbearinggifts]

Why Didn’t the Other Siblings Include Vanya?

It’s a question I’ve heard often from fans of this show, and honestly, it’s a fair one. Vanya was deliberately excluded from everything—missions, family photos, conversations. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d awake on Christmas morning to find that her siblings had begun opening gifts without her, or get to her own birthday celebration to see that they’d already blown out all the candles on their cake and were in the process of dishing it up. Why? If all of her siblings were treated badly by Reginald, why did they not band together, support Vanya, and stand up to their shitty excuse for a dad? 

The answer lies in a deceptively simple concept known as scapegoating. 

Of Scapegoats and Other Roles

I say deceptively because it’s probably an idea most people are familiar with. Pick one person, assign them the blame, and let everyone else move on with their lives. Any fan of this show would immediately think of Vanya whilst reading the Psychology Today article on scapegoating, and rightly so. However, as that and many other articles hint, it’s far more complex—and ugly—than one might assume. And it can be difficult to explain, because survivors of child abuse likely never had to articulate it. The scapegoat dynamic was something they knew instinctively without fully comprehending what it was or why it was happening. So, I’ll do my best to explain how it works. 

If you’ve heard the term scapegoat, you’ve probably also heard the term golden child. These two roles are opposites. Where the scapegoat receives most of the blame the family has to offer, the golden child receives most of the praise. Where the scapegoat is painted as deliberately evil or a perpetual fuckup or both, the golden child is painted as a hero who can do no wrong. If you’re thinking of Vanya as the scapegoat and Luther as the golden child, then you’re on the right track. 

However, between those two extremes is a whole spectrum of roles. Sometimes these roles are fluid, but more often than not they’re permanent and only change when the family undergoes a drastic shift. Maybe the family has a Diego, who envies the golden child and jockeys for favor that will always be out of reach. Maybe they have a Klaus, one whose failures would be enough to make them the scapegoat were it not for the current scapegoat’s failures overshadowing theirs. Maybe there’s an Allison, one who is disliked by the parent(s) but manages to be useful enough to escape punishment; or maybe there’s a Ben, who has everyone’s pity and sympathy and is still miserable. Maybe there’s a Five, a rebel who defies the family’s rules and pays the price. 

If none of these roles sound fun to you, then congratulations—you’re on your way to understanding what life in an abusive household is like. 

Abusive Parents Ruin Everything

Living with an abusive parent (or two abusive parents, or—in my case—an abusive mother and her Flying Monkey) is like living with a bomb. The bomb has a timer, but it is constantly reset and doesn’t operate by any sort of internal logic. It might say you have 3 days to detonation when you leave for school, but by the time you return it’s down to 15 seconds. The golden child always has the most time before detonation, and they’re sometimes able to buy a few more minutes or hours, but even they’re not shielded from the blast. 

The scapegoat, as you might imagine, is the one whose presence is usually responsible for setting off the bomb. Maybe this earns them some pity from their siblings, but there’s also something darker: a sick sense of relief that they were not the ones receiving the brunt of the parent’s anger. You see, the parental bomb operates on different rules depending on which child they’re interacting with. Equal treatment in an abusive household is a pipe dream. The golden child has it the best, the scapegoat has it the worst, and everyone else is just trying to get through the day without stepping on any landmines. If the scapegoat triggers one—well, that’s one less landmine anyone else has to step on. 

But what happens when someone defies the family’s roles and treats the scapegoat well? The short answer: Nothing good. 

We learn from Vanya’s memoir that Five was the only one to treat her as an equal, the only one who felt like a sibling to her. Although we don’t see much of the fallout from this, I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt that there would have been fallout, and it would have been ugly. Remember that Five wasn’t just treating Vanya as an equal, reaching out to a broken girl and giving her the inclusion she craved—he was defying what Reginald saw as the rightful order of things, defying Reginald himself. You don’t do that in an abusive household. You don’t defy your parents. You don’t question why your brother gets better treatment than you, and you don’t tell your dad to treat your sister right. You accept it, or you risk earning the same treatment as the scapegoat. 

Divided You Fall for Everything

Risk of poor treatment (and perhaps permanent loss of position—for instance, Klaus shifting from secondary scapegoat to primary scapegoat) is not the only reason abused kids don’t stand up for the scapegoat. 

Abusive parents are masters of pitting their kids against each other, and the primary way they do this is through selectively limiting the information they have. In Vanya’s case, I think Allison was the only other sibling who even knew Vanya had been locked in a soundproofed room in the basement. From the look on Klaus’ face when he sees her, it stands to reason that he had no idea—his horror, pity and rage are those of a man who just now learned his sister suffered the same fate he did. To that point, he probably believed, along with the others, that she was sick and had to be kept quarantined. 

That half-truth changes everything. If you knew your sister was locked in a soundproofed room in the basement for no reason other than that your dad was afraid of her, you’d understand why she emerged broken, and why she later become resentful. But if you thought she had a contagious disease, and was simply kept off on her own for her own good and the good of the family, her attitude upon emerging might come across as downright bratty. You had TB, Vanya! What were we supposed to do, parade through your room sharing your straws? Did you want the rest of us to catch it too? 

I have no doubt that Reginald used selective manipulation of the truth in other ways too. Maybe he told Luther that Klaus refused to learn to control his powers, leaving out any of the horrific mortal wounds Klaus remembered seeing on the ghosts who appeared to him. Maybe he told Allison that Diego was always throwing a tantrum about this or that, conveniently failing to mention that his refusal to bend on unreasonable rules was the cause of those outbursts. There are countless ways Reginald could have set his kids against each other, and he would have exploited them all. He would have known, instinctively if not consciously, that if they ever sat down and honestly discussed the shit he put them through, then they would realize they were all victims—and they would band together to unseat him. 

They Deserve It And Other Lies We Tell Ourselves

There’s one more piece at play here, and this is probably the darkest of them all: cognitive dissonance. 

You’ve probably heard that term too, but in case you haven’t, it’s “the state of having inconsistent thoughts, beliefs, or attitudes, especially as relating to behavioral decisions and attitude change.” In an abusive family, it means stuffing your empathy deep down inside and convincing yourself that your siblings deserve what they get. Even if you know they don’t. Even if you’re not sure. Even if you’ve suffered the same treatment they’re getting. You tell yourself they earned it—because your parents tell you that you earned what you got. 

Fortunately, cognitive dissonance can be overcome. We see its beginnings when Allison sees Vanya off by herself in all of the surveillance footage. The sight engages her sympathy, shows her where she’s gone wrong, and inspires her to make a change. We see it again when Klaus and Diego witness her locked in the soundproofed chamber and lash out at Luther for putting her there. They’ve seen the truth, and they’ve realized that things are far worse than they let themselves think. They knew it all along, but they’ve at last seen just how horrific things really were. 

Conclusion

The question of why the other Hargreeves siblings didn’t include Vanya is a simple one, but its answer is anything but. And the thing is, it should be simple. Why did they leave her out? Why didn’t they realize how wrong it was? Why didn’t they love her enough? 

I think they did love her. But in abusive households, love is never as simple as it should be. Abusive parents don’t make love simple. 

And that’s the problem. 

[padawanlost]

Anakin Skywalker & Slavery

Continuation of this post (a question by @ask-the-almighty-google)

Anakin, as a Jedi, had a unique approach to slavery. I’m aware this is a divisive topic with opinions ranging from “Anakin was worse than Jabba” to “Anakin did nothing wrong”. Instead of doing a “opinion piece” I decided it would be more constructive if we could look at the facts. My personal opinion will still be a part of this but today I’ll try to show more and talk less.

Anakin, as a child born in slavery, was deeply traumatize by his experiences and that certainly influenced how he look at it. His reactions to slavery were personal because it was something deeply personal to him. Anakin was wrong in not fighting for the clones but to expect Anakin to passionately the cause is unrealistic because he spend the previous 10 years old his life behind constantly criticized for that exact same behavior. He did want to save all slaves but the Jedi “beat” that dream of out him.

“Worried about helping Jabba? Don’t worry, everyone else is, too.” Anakin could never answer her. He tried not to think about it, but the thought was like a corris weevil, eating away at his resolve. The Jedi had never tried to rescue his mother or buy her out of slavery. Instead, they had taken him, given him this new life, but left her behind on Tatooine. He had just accepted it at the time, but now … now he knew how much power Jedi had, and all he could wonder is why she hadn’t been worth their time and trouble, too, if only to keep him happy. Not even Qui-Gon Jinn had cast a backward glance at Shmi Skywalker. As the months and years wore on, the question would not leave Anakin alone. He didn’t want to let resentment eat away at his fond memories of his old Master, but he couldn’t stop it sometimes. […]The Jedi Council had credits. Real wealth. Would it really have been beyond them to buy his mother out of slavery? Anakin accepted that some things had to be learned from the cradle. He was already full of attachment and emotion, too set in his ways of being a messy, ordinary human to adopt the aloof serenity—the unloving detachment, the arm’s-length and measured compassion—a Jedi needed. He did his best. Why wasn’t my mother worth saving? [The Clone Wars by Karen Traviss]

Why won’t they help me free my mother? It’s not fair! It’s not right! Countless times, Obi-Wan explained that every Jedi had to obey the directives of the Jedi Council, and could never use the Force for selfish purposes. He urged Anakin to consider how freeing one slave on Tatooine might lead to the deaths of others, as some slavers might prefer to destroy their “property” than release them from bondage. The Jedi also had to answer to the Galactic Senate, and for the time being, the Senate had little interest in anything that happened on Tatooine. Why do the Jedi have to answer to anybody? Anakin wondered. Despite Anakin’s desire to distance himself from the slave he had once been, he was unable, or unwilling, to shed the other aspects that had defined him on Tatooine. [Ryder Windham’s The Rise and Fall of Darth Vader]

This was a constant in Anakin’s years as a Jedi. every time he tried to bring up the subject he was told how wrong he was by these powerful and wise beings he so admired. Eventually he stopped asking. He buried his dreams.

When they'd met, Anakin had been a warm-hearted nine-year-old boy with an open nature. He was twelve and a half now, and the years had changed him. He had grown to be a boy who hid his heart. [Jude Watson’s Deceptions]

Slavery became a sore topic. Something he tried to hide at all costs. And, if possible, avoided thinking about at all costs.

Anakin regretted it as soon as he said it. He’d made it sound more as if he had some wild, dark past, and nothing was better guaranteed to keep Ahsoka asking questions than that. If he explained he’d been a Hutt’s slave, she’d dig away at it until all the bad stuff came out. It was hard enough telling Padmé, and she was his wife. [The Clone Wars by Karen Traviss]

I think he internalized and eventually blamed it all on himself. He admitted to himself he had a part in  it too and that guilty ate away at him.

When the war was over he’d go back to Tatooine and see. When the war was over he’d buy any child he found enslaved to Watto and find them a home where they might live and love in safety. Belonging to no one but themselves. I should have done it before now. Wasn’t that my other childhood dream? Become a Jedi and free the slaves. Instead I became a Jedi and let myself forget. Let them convince me that it’s not our job to remake the Republic. The Jedi were keepers of the peace, not legal enforcers. That was the Senate’s job. How many times had he been told that? He’d lost count. But the Senate was falling down on the job, wasn’t it? What was the use of having anti-slavery laws if the barves who broke them never paid for their crimes? It was enough to shake his hard-won and harder-kept faith. If scum like Watto and Jabba and the other Hutts kept on making their fat profits on the backs of living property—and if the Senate continued to turn a blind eye—how could anyone believe in the Republic? How could he? [Karen Miller’s Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Anakin wasn’t sure how he’d react when he saw Watto again. Although his former master had been kinder than other slave owners, Anakin had always resented the fact that Watto refused to free his mother. Watto isn’t entirely to blame, Anakin mused, wondering just how hard Qui-Gon had tried to liberate Shmi. Slavery is allowed here, and Watto is just a businessman. [Ryder Windham’s The Rise and Fall of Darth Vader]

There are credits in slavery—and credits trump justice. Always have. Always will. And the Jedi? They didn’t want to get involved. Even Qui-Gon … So I guess it’s up to me. I failed my mother. I didn’t go back for her and she died. But when the war is over I’ll make good on my word. I’ll fight slavery wherever I find it … and there’ll be no mercy for those who steal lives. [Karen Miller’s Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Jabba grew fat on the misery of beings like Anakin’s mother. He’d probably taken a percentage of the very transactions that had kept Shmi Skywalker in slavery. And still I have to save his son. Because we need his goodwill. His space lanes. The idea stuck in Anakin’s throat like a splintered nuna bone. The pain was palpable. [The Clone Wars by Karen Traviss]

He buried it so deep he became a Jedi. on the surface, he was very much a Jedi (not as dismissive of slavery as the detached Jedi but still unwilling to face the full reality of the situation). However, it still hurt him.

 Anakin wondered whether it was expedience, simple logic—both he and Kenobi spoke Huttese and were experienced in covert missions—or some exercise in character building. Yoda knew Anakin’s past, that he and his mother had been slaves of a Hutt. Jabba raked off a cut from the slave trade, too, so he was personally connected to Anakin’s boyhood misery, and even his mother’s ultimate fate. Callous didn’t begin to cover it. Anakin’s instinctive reaction would have been to tell Jabba that it was too bad and that people you loved got killed all the time. [The Clone Wars by Karen Traviss]

Again, he buried his feelings and thoughts because that’s what the Jedi taught him. when the Clone War begins, that’s what he does. He buries everything. It’s a result of his traumas and his jedi upbringing. But let me you, Anakin did care about the clones. No, he did not fight for his rights or recognized their status as slaves but this idea that Anakin didn’t care about the well being of his men is as fanon as fanon gets.

I know this is a contraction hard to grasp. I mean, how can’t some fail to notice someone is a slave, keep them enslaved and still care about their life and grief for them? sounds impossible, right? But it’s not. These kinds of contractions are what makes us humans, what makes great characters great. How can Obi-wan love Anakin and still cut of his limbs and leave him to burn? He is human. This is not a simple matter that can be summarized with a simple right or wrong answer.

It’s not darkness. I’m not dark. This isn’t anger— It was okay; they’d always told him so. He was fighting to save his men, and if he did terrible things out of compassion, out of love, then he wasn’t turning to the dark side. That was the Jedi way. For my mother. For my men. For Padmé. [The Clone Wars by Karen Traviss]

Impatience. Concern. Relief. Loneliness. Weariness. And grief, not yet healed. Such a muddle of emotions. Such a weight on [Anakin]’s shoulders. Months of brutal battle had left [Ahsoka] drained and nearly numb, but it was worse for Anakin. He was a Jedi general with countless lives entrusted to his care, and every life damaged or lost he counted as a personal failure. For other people he found forgiveness; for himself there was none. For himself there was only anger at not meeting his own exacting standards. [Karen Miller’s Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Under [Anakin]’s careless confidence, she sensed a hint of that unhealed grief. The loss of greenies Vere and Ince during the Jan-Fathal mission … the loss of other Torrent Company clones since then … his pain was like a kiplin-burr, burrowed deep in his flesh. Anakin had a bad habit of nursing those wounds, and no matter what she said, tactfully, no matter what Master Kenobi said without any tact at all, nothing made a difference. He hurt for them, and always would. [Karen Miller’s Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

[Anakin] looked at Ahsoka. “Fine. You can go. But I want to be kept informed of Torrent Company’s status. Don’t make me chase you for updates, is that clear?” She managed to smile. “Yes, Master. Thank you.” “And Ahsoka …” He felt his heart thud. “Tell Rex—tell all of them—that anything less than a full recovery is unacceptable. Tell Rex I—” He had to stop. Obi-Wan was in earshot, and they were not supposed to care so much. [Karen Miller’s Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

 [Anakin] hit the cockpit canopy switch, fast. “Obi-Wan’s fine, more or less,” he told the anxious droid, firing their fighter’s thrusters. “Ahsoka’s pretty banged up, though. So are Rex and Coric. They’re on their way to Kaliida Shoals.” R2’s mournful whistle said everything Anakin couldn’t … or didn’t want to. [Karen Miller’s Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Rex. Coric. Ahsoka. And fourteen dead pilots. Scores more dead and wounded ground troopers. Why can’t we stop this? Why can’t we catch Grievous? Dooku’s only one man. How can he defy the entire Jedi Order? Who is his Sith Master? Why can’t we find him? Day and night the questions ate at him. They ate at Obi-Wan, too, but somehow his former Master seemed able to live without knowing the answers. Or else he was just better at hiding his dismay. His fear. [Karen Miller’s Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Anakin did ask himself questions but over 10 years of being told he was wrong does take a toll. And we need to remember Anakin was 19 years old kid pushed into a war by his superiors. A lack of self-analysis, a narrow view of the world and political nativity comes with the package. Anakin *is* concern about slavery but he is a flawed person with his own blind spots. It’s the famous cognitive dissonance we all know so well.

I’m not saying Anakin is right but deference is an important part of the character. Anakin cannot be the sort of person who is too aware of what’s going on around him or else he wouldn’t turn into Vader. He had to be written this way to explain why Vader exists. If Anakin had questioned the Republic’s slave army he wouldn’t have become the Vader knew from the OT. He had to be kind of guy who blinds follows his superiors even against his own self-interest.  

[goddamnitconnor-a]

I don’t know if this post will seem strange coming from me, but I had the sudden urge to make it, so here we are. Putting most of it under the cut just because it got a bit lengthy. Whoops.

I want to be honest. I think this is really mostly just for me and honestly I could be typing this out in google docs and save myself the later embarrassment of being so open and honest because I’m generally not, but I also think that’s one of the things I need to change about myself, so me and embarrassment might become quick friends. Maybe we already are idk.

I struggle with feelings of worthlessness and just not being good enough a lot. It plagues me on a daily basis and it’s usually what leads to my episodes of paralyzing depression, as blissfully few and far between as they are, these days. But every now and then, I’ll be hit with the feeling as if nothing I can ever do will be good enough and nothing I’ll ever be able to give will amount to what I’ve already taken from everyone else around me. Like everyone around me feels sorry for me or thinks I”m something I’m not and if they really knew how utterly useless I really am, they’d leave in a heartbeat.

But I know that’s not true. And I’m sure everyone who’s stuck this post out this long would agree with me unless I’m actually right on point with the self-deprecation, in which case please let me know I’ll never amount to anything so I’ll stop dreaming about it. That was a poor attempt at a joke, I think.

My point is, how many of you cringed or fidgeted or started reading more intently while I was describing those feelings? I know a lot of people have them. And even when those thoughts aren’t intruding severely enough to stop you from being productive, they still hold you back. You still keep away from opportunities that might benefit you and you keep from taking risks and making changes.

That’s okay. I think that’s okay. But I also think that we have potential. All of us. To do a lot more than what we’re doing right now. And I don’t think we have to get up and change the world tomorrow to prove it. I don’t think we even have to do our laundry tomorrow to prove it. But I want each and every one of you who really resonates with what I’m saying to just repeat this.

I’m enough.

Say it out loud, if you’re alone or aren’t worried about being overheard. Say it in your head, if that’s easier. But say it once. Then say it ten goddamn times. Say it it until the words don’t even make sense anymore. Because I’ll be damned if I can sit here and say I’m enough and you can’t do the same. I don’t care what you have or haven’t done in the past, I’m looking towards the future for myself and I want everyone else to do the same for themselves.

This isn’t some new year new me bullshit, either. Frankly, I didn’t even think of this tying in with new year’s resolutions until right now. Fuck that noise.

I want you to feel those words in your heart. I want you to believe them. Because right here, right now, are you not enough? Are you not talking to friends or spending time with an animal or doing something to improve the world around you? Even if it’s little, it’s something. And that something can grow with just a little step each time.

We’re all enough. If we weren’t, everything would be falling apart around us. And even if it feels like it, chances are it isn’t. It might sound like I’m promoting complacency. Be happy with who you are and don’t change for anyone. Well, frankly I think that’s kind of shit logic. Be happy with who you are, sure, but don’t change for anyone? What about yourself? I sure as hell feel as if I owe it to myself to change me for the better.

I owe it to all the people that depend on me, too. Many of you probably don’t know this, but I work as a support staff for severely disabled adults with mental disabilities. The population is primary people with autism but there are others, too. I say all of that to say that I owe it to my guys to make myself happier, so that I can focus more on them while I”m with them. I owe it to my friends, too, to be emotionally available and receptive because, to me, that’s what a friend does. I owe it to my family to show them the same love and dedication that they’ve shown me and lord knows I haven’t done that, yet.

Be happy with who you are, but don’t settle for it. Never settle. Accepting where you are in the world, right now, and what you have to work with, right now, is just the first step. But it’s a big one and, frankly, I think probably the hardest. Because honesty means not making excuses and owning up to our faults and, unfortunately, most of the time I think we turn out to be very much like the people we judge and criticize. And that’s hard. But it’s also a wake-up call. I’ve been here once and I’m here again. I’m not even entirely sure when I lost my way.

And that’s why I wish nothing more than for everyone to start with acceptance. Because I know I haven’t been an ideal person. I won’t even use the word perfect because that’s a given. But ideal. I haven’t lived up to my own image of what I think I can be. And I say ‘oh I’m sure I could so it’s not even worth trying’. That’s laziness. That’s an excuse. That’s a fear of failure. And I’ve avoided that fear for way too long. And I think a lot of people are right there with me. 

But it’s okay to fail. I don’t think it’s okay to not try at all. 

Not everyone will be at a point where they can really hear this message. I get that. I hope when you are ready to make that change, someone else is there to say something similar. That you are enough. And you will fail plenty along the way because mistakes are how we learn. But you have so much potential and there’s no bigger failure than letting that go to waste.

[amarauder]

chapter twenty ❥ original

it’s a hate-love thing original version.

james potter x reader.

"I do think that people should've at least known that our O.W.L.s were near," commented y/n, staring as a hysterical Frieda Lawrence was carried off to the Hospital Wing on an invisible stretcher, guided by a sulking Mark Goldstein.

Remus smiled. "Well, you know, y/n, you're the one who's actually been studying for the O.W.L.s."

"And you haven't?"

"Er—well, don't tell Jenny that I have," he pleaded.

"All right, everyone, I guess this is the end of our meeting," said Teresa loudly. "I'm afraid, without our Ravenclaw prefects, that we can't accomplish anything. You are dismissed."

"That was such a waste of time," muttered y/n, as they exited the Prefect's Lounge. "We didn't accomplish a single bloody thing! I mean, what's there to be afraid of for the O.W.L.s? She could've studied! But, oh, they're drawing so near!"

"We have to memorize so many facts and spells and—oh, Merlin, my head's bursting just thinking about those bloody O.W.L.s," said Remus despairingly.

"Did someone mention O.W.L.s?" said Frank, one of the sixth year prefects, leaning curiously at the Gryffindor prefects. "Oh, I remember last year when we had to take it..." He groaned.

"It wasn't that bad, Frankie," argued Alice. "All right, History of Magic was a complete failure, but the rest were all right, I suppose."

"I failed Divination," informed Frank, nodding at Y/n and Remus. "I couldn't see a single bloody thing in that stupid crystal ball, so I made stuff up. Trelawney definitely wasn't convinced. I got a 'D' in it when my O.W.L. results came."

"You see, this is why I didn't take Divination. I took Arithmancy instead, and it turned out to be a very good choice, if I do say so myself." Alice drew herself up in dignity.

Y/n still didn't look very convinced, and she chewed her nails in worry. Alice saw this immediately and took charge by grabbing Y/n's hands away from her mouth.

" Y/n L/n, what do you think you are doing?"

"Oh, Alice, I can't help it! I always chew my nails when I'm nervous."

Remus gave an odd bark-like laugh that was very similar to Sirius'. "Y/n, you've gotten mostly O's and a few E's on your homework this year, and you're still worried? You'll do fine!"

"The worst of it is, Potter and Sirius never study, and they still do just as well!" she continued, rambling furiously.

"It is aggravating," admitted Alice. "I do know exactly how you feel. You see, Frank here has always gotten exceptional grades, and he doesn't even look at a textbook! How he got to be a prefect when McGonagall could've chosen Sturges Diggle from his dorm is beyond me—"

"Hey! For your information, I'm much smarter than Diggle, and I'm prettier."

Y/n and Alice giggled, while Remus and Frank shared looks that clearly said, "We men will never understand women."

"Moony!" exclaimed Sirius, bounding along the corridor tailed closely behind by James and Peter. "I see you're back early."

"Yes, Padfoot," said Remus, rolling his eyes. "You've just stated the obvious."

"How did you know that we were let out one hour earlier?" asked Y/n in wonder.

"So, what happened that made Teresa change her mind about the meeting?" continued Sirius, ignoring Y/n's question.

"Frieda Lawrence had a nervous breakdown and went into hysterics," explained Remus, chuckling slightly at the memory. "Mark had to take her to the Hospital Wing. Teresa decided it best to cancel the meeting, as our Ravenclaws were indisposed."

"It was a complete waste of time," said Y/n angrily. "I could've done my Charms homework in those fifteen minutes!"

James rolled his eyes. "Are you still thinking about those stupid O.W.L.s, L/n? Surely you know that someone like you will obviously do well in them. You'll probably get all the O.W.L.s you need to become an Auror."

"How did you know I wanted to become an Auror?" asked Y/n. "You Marauders are full of surprises every day."

"Our little secret," murmured Sirius, winking impetuously.

"Alice and I are going to become Aurors as well," reported Frank, beaming. "They're very elite, of course, but we've already got all the O.W.L.s we need for it. All we have to do is to get the N.E.W.T.s that are required to become one. Oh, and to pass all those tests during Auror training."

"But the bad part," said Peter mournfully, "is that we have to do Potions for our sixth and seventh year, since it's very useful for Aurors."

James groaned. "Don't remind me, Wormtail. Potions with Hurst for an extra two years...what WAS I thinking? But I really do need to become an Auror, so I suppose I just have to face the music."

"I hear that Hurst is only going to accept people with an 'O' on their Potions O.W.L.," remarked Y/n, her nerves getting the better of her again.

"Don't worry, you'll get into Potions class next year," reassured Alice, smiling. "I mean, Frank and I managed to scrape an 'O' in our O.W.L.s last year, but boy, it definitely wasn't easy—"

"We studied an extra four hours on Potions," said Frank heavily.

"You actually spent precious time doing that?" said James incredulously.

"Hey, Alice made me, and I couldn't do anything to stop it. Jamie, when you're in love, you tend to do anything the love of your life wants you to do."

"That's not fair." James frowned.

"So that means Prongs will jump off the London Bridge, since he's in love with—OUCH! Merlin's beard, what did you do that for, Moony?" Sirius glared at Remus.

"Padfoot, I do believe you need to reconsider finishing that," said James, through gritted teeth.

"What the—oh yeah, whoops, what was I thinking?" Sirius laughed nervously.

"Er—" Frank, Alice, and Y/n raised their eyebrows at the foursome, and then shrugging. After all, the Marauders had their strange moments very often.

"So how many hours did you spend studying for your O.W.L.s?" asked Y/n, as they proceeded to the Fat Lady's portrait on the seventh floor.

"Oh, I'd say, maybe eight to twelve hours," replied Alice casually. Noticing the five fifth years' stares, she added, "It wasn't too long, some people spent nearly twenty-four hours a day studying."

"Merlin," whispered Sirius hoarsely. "Twelve bloody hours? That's complete hell!"

"We spent a third of the time on Potions, and the other two-thirds on the rest of the subjects. I suggested to study an extra two hours at night, but Frank wouldn't hear of it."

"Surely not!" cried the four Marauders.

"We're not even going to study, period," added James.

Frank and Alice both stared at them without blinking, as if trying to comprehend James' comment.

"Not study?" choked the latter. "You'll fail, then!"

"So let it be," said Sirius nonchalantly. "What difference will it make? Of course, Prefect Moony will study, since he's such a goody-two-shoes..."

"Padfoot," warned Remus, looking irritated.

"Oh, so sorry, Prefect Moony."

"Padfoot, shove it."

"You guys are so immature," said Alice, sighing. "Frank, I do pity you for being neighbors with Potter."

"I send you my condolences, Frank," agreed Y/n, wincing at the very thought of having James as a neighbor, let alone classmate.

"Thank you, ladies," said Frank, smiling amusedly, "but, really, once you get to know James, he's a nice guy and a romantic at heart..."

"Frank," mumbled James, turning rather red at the ears. The other three Marauders sniggered.

"Oh, what does he do, Frank?" queried Sirius eagerly. "Write love poems for Y/n?"

"Well, I don't know why you're all laughing," said Alice defiantly. "I think it's rather sweet." She smiled at a very scarlet Y/n.

"I was just joshing, James." The sixth year grinned and ruffled James' already-untidy hair affectionately.

"Hey!"

"What? You always make your hair messier than it already is, so I may as well help you. Oh yeah, and I don't know what the girls think, but I don't really think that messy hair attracts females."

"It certainly doesn't attract me," put in Alice.

"But you see, Alice," whispered Sirius, so that only she could hear it, "Jamie wants to impress Y/n and Y/n only—"

Alice's mouth curved upwards into a wide grin as her blue eyes glinted evilly at Y/n and James, who were now blushing furiously.

"Padfoot, shut up!" said the very crimson latter.

"Aww...but why, Prongs? Annoying the hell out of you is fun!"

"Padfoot," chided Remus, sighing helplessly. "Some people just never change..."

"Well, why should I?"

"Why do you guys have those funny nicknames anyway?" said Alice curiously.

"Er—" The four Marauders looked at each other, wide-eyed.

"Well, c'mon, you can tell us!" she urged.

"Uh..."

"Well, you see, it's a secret," said James.

"A secret?" repeated Alice blankly.

"Oh, yes, a secret. You see, it all began when Moony was just a wee baby—"

"All right, we get the point, Potter," snapped Y/n impatiently. "Don't even try to get answers out of them, Alice. They never give you a direct one, no matter how simple the question is."

Alice giggled. "Thanks for the note there, n/n."

"Y/n, where were you?" said Arabella, nearly bouncing on top of Y/n, followed shortly by Jennifer and Violet. "Sirius told us that you guys came out early from the meeting..."

"Yeah, Lawrence fainted," said Remus. "Pressure of the O.W.L.s, we all think."

"Don't tease," scolded Jennifer. "The O.W.L.s are pressuring."

"But you see," said Y/n logically, "if you guys studied beforehand, you wouldn't be so nervous."

"Like you?" asked James acrimoniously.

"Like me."

"And you thought I was an patronizing git."

"You are."

"Ha! Well, what about you? You just said that you aren't nervous, and now you're bragging to your own friends that you studied beforehand. At least I don't brag to Sirius, Remus, or Peter."

"You do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do n—"

"Oh, will you please put a cork on it?" yelled Frank, narrowing his eyes.

"I'll help you, Frank," said a demure voice from the portrait hole, and sure enough, Trish Vance preceded and put a Silencing Charm on Y/n and James, causing them to argue, though with no effect whatsoever.

"Hello Trish," greeted Frank, smiling. "How are you today?"

Y/n was mouthing furiously, and Arabella said the counter-curse, allowing Y/n and James to speak again.

"Why did you do that for?" the former exclaimed. "You could've told us to stop, and we would have!"

"Well, I do love to do it more professionally, you know," replied Trish, batting her eyelashes at Frank.

Alice narrowed her eyes and whispered to Y/n, "That's Trish Vance. She's in Gryffindor, and in the same year as Frank and I. She's in my dorm as well, and what an idiot she is. It's been old news that Trish has been trying to get Frank since fourth year. But unfortunately, it's obvious that she hasn't."

Y/n grinned and stifled a laugh. "Frank doesn't seem to mind flirting with her."

"Well, Frank has always been intimidated by her, though he constantly tells me that he loves me and he'd never dump me for a girl like her. But what do guys know? They only go for the good-looking girls with a brain the size of a Knut."

"Oh, Lise, Frank does love you! That Trish would never get him."

"I hope so," said Alice, sighing, watching helplessly as Trish grabbed Frank's hand and pressed it firmly with her own, "I hope so."

"Well, it's the first time you've ever been wrong, Y/n," said Alice furiously, as she collapsed into an armchair. It was the Easter holidays now, and the weather was warming up considerably. Most of the Gryffindors had gone home for the holidays, but the Marauders, the girls, and a few older students decided to stay at Hogwarts, as usual.

"What happened, Al?" asked Arabella, concerned.

"Frank dumped me for that bi—idiot," spat Alice, burying her head into her arms. "My life is now officially over. Frank specifically told me that he'd always be with me and he'd never dump me for another girl, because there's no one else he'd rather be with than me. And what does he do? He dumps me right then and there! Of course, I'm not going to cry, since that's so stupid. Why cry over Frank anyway? He wasn't much good. 'Sides, I got a new boyfriend."

"Already?" said Y/n, surprised.

"Yeah. Apparently, Sturges Diggle has had a crush on me since third year, and he asked me out straight away after the news spread that Frank Longbottom and Alice Hart have officially broke up."

"Well, that's good, isn't it? Diggle's a sweet and nice guy, and he would never dump you, would he? Since he's carried a torch for you for three years."

"Yeah, Sturges is awesome. But"—Alice sighed—"he's not Frank."

"Look," said Arabella excitedly, beaming at the older girl, "I have a plan that'll put Frank in shame that he ever dumped you."

Alice looked up, her eyebrows raised. "Oh?"

"Yep. Now, all you have to do is be all fluffy and—you know, to Sturges, and then Frank will get jealous and then he'll apologize, and you'll be back together in no time! Oh, and there's dumping Sturges, but he'll understand, I'm sure..."

"So you want me to use poor Sturges? Oh, no, not that. I really do like Sturges, and I don't want to hurt the poor boy. Who knows? Maybe Alice Diggle sounds better than Alice Longbottom."

"Actually, I really don't think it does," said James casually, appearing out of nowhere. "I heard about you and Frank."

"And?"

"You guys make the perfect couple, and you should get back together again."

"No WAY, James Potter. Frank is now a distant acquaintance to me. Who knew he'd break a promise so sacred and full of love? Now I've realized that he's a complete prat, and that Sturges is much better than he is. I don't know what I was thinking when I started to date him in fourth year."

"'Cause you love him, Al," said Sirius quietly, standing next to James.

"I do not! He's an insufferable git!"

"Alice?" whispered Frank, coming down from the sixth year boys' dormitory. "Alice, I think we need to talk."

Alice stood up abruptly. "Oh, do you? Well, let me tell you something, Longbottom. You are nothing but a prat and a promise-breaker. You're nothing more to me now. I'm with Sturges, and you can have your beloved Trish after wanting her for so many years. I know Sturges can make me happy; much happier than you can make me!" She marched into her dorm and slammed the door behind her.

Frank sighed and ran a hand through his light brown curls distractedly.

"You know you deserve it, Frank," said Sirius seriously (no pun intended).

"What? I know. But—oh, it's so confusing! What was I thinking, dumping my beautiful and wonderful Alice for that idiot Trish? Now Lisa will never forgive me. I may as well start preparing for her wedding with Diggle."

Surprisingly, James smiled. "You know that's not true. Alice still loves you, Frank. I know how you feel, being rejected when all you want to do is give love instead of taking it away."

Everyone fell silent. They had never heard James talk so emotionally, and Y/n was especially surprised. Though she wasn't aware of it, her hatred for James began its process of thawing.

Frank smiled back. "You know, James, it wouldn't kill to get a girlfriend yourself. Unless if you're still pining for—er—her."

James nodded sadly, and the Marauders and Frank grinned, while the girls exchanged looks of perplexity. The high and mighty James Potter, pining for a girl that's playing hard-to-get? It was very unbelievable indeed.

"Who's 'her'?" they asked simultaneously.

Sirius grinned. "I'm afraid we cannot tell you four lovely ladies."

"Why not?" demanded Arabella.

"Bella, I don't trust you to keep my mate's secret."

"Why not?"

"'Cause..."

"It's between us guys," supplemented Frank.

"Besides, you'd tell the girl if you knew," said James softly, looking to Arabella's eyes, and she instantly understood.

"Oh, James, you finally realize it, do you?" she said, smiling widely.

James turned red. "Don't mock," he ordered.

"What are you all talking about?" said Y/n impatiently. "What girl?"

Arabella rolled her eyes at Jennifer and Violet, and all three of them giggled. The Marauders (excluding Peter) and Frank shook their heads, muttering, "Girls."

"Y/n, I do think it's obvious, don't you?" said Remus, smiling very slightly.

"Oh, Remus, I thought you'd have the common sense of the group? What are you guys talking about?"

"Don't tell her," ordered James.

"I wasn't going to, Prongs. I was merely going to—let's say—give her a hint, shall we? We do want to make your life easier, you know."

Y/n still stared at them with confusion. What kind of girl is Potter pining for? Is it Violet? She's single. Ugh, stupid Potter! Why, I'm so much better than Vi. Wait a minute, what am I thinking? This has to be from lack of sleep.

"Hello? L/n?"

"W-What?"

James raised his eyebrows. "I was wondering if you can help me with a Silencing Charm."

"Potter, we've learned that at the beginning of the year!"

"Yeah, well, it's not my fault I stink at Charms. Besides, you're so good, and I know you can help me get it right!"

Y/n smiled, unable to restrain it back any longer. Everyone else looked at her in surprise. They had expected her to start yelling at James again. The three Marauders and girls exchanged joyful looks with each other.

"Oh, fine, Ja—Potter. Let's go then."

James beamed and followed her to a table, feeling as though his birthday, Christmas, and summer vacation had come early.

"Now," began Y/n, "the Silencing Charm is a sharp jab, so don't do a light swish or anything. And try not to cause an accident; Bella nearly took an eye out from the frog she was practicing on once."

He chuckled and stared at Y/n, muttering, "Silencio!" To his disappointment, Lily continued to talk incessantly.

"What did I do wrong?" he whined.

"Potter, I told you to do a sharp jab. Think of it like you're about to poke me in the eye or something, but don't—er—actually do it."

"Silencio!" cried James, and nearly stabbed Y/n with the end of his wand. However, he did accomplish the charm, for Y/n was mouthing silently, without uttering a word out loud. "I did it!"

Y/n was still mouthing furiously, and she frowned and started to mouth silently, pointing to her mouth.

"What is it, L/n? Oh, right! The counter-curse—erm—"

"Talkitus," said Frank, pointing his wand at Y/n. She smiled in relief.

"Thanks, Frank."

"No problem."

"I did try," insisted James, feeling a strong possessiveness to the redhead. "Please, L/n, don't hurt me."

"What gave you an idea that I was going to hurt you?" inquired Y/n, surprised.

"Well...weren't you?" James cocked his head sideways questioningly.

"Not particularly thinking of it, though I will be only too happy to do it if you want me to."

Frank chortled, clapping James on the back. "I'll be finding Alice now, Potter. Good luck with your girl." He disappeared into his dormitory.

"Your girl?" said Y/n, frowning.

"It's a secret," he said hastily, silently cursing Frank for saying it out loud.

"Oh? And I'm not going to be let in on it?"

"'Fraid not, L/n. Besides, you wouldn't understand."

"Oh, really?" Y/n placed her hands on her hips. "And why wouldn't I?"

"Because—" He sighed dismally, and looked away. "Because you don't care enough."

"Y/n, I love you," whispered an older James Potter, as he cradled Y/n into his chest. "No matter what happens, I'll always love you. You know that."

"I know, James, it's just that – I'm scared," whispered Y/n, hugging his neck.

"Y/n look at me," he ordered. "Whatever happens, nothing will stop us from loving each other. Voldemort's not going to tear us apart if I can help it."

"Oh, James! I love you, too. And – gosh, why are you so irresistible?"

He chuckled and kissed Y/n deeply and passionately. They broke off nearly a minute later, both breathless and with fluttering hearts.

"You're my flower, Y/n, and I'm never letting you go."

Y/n smiled at the engagement ring on her left hand, and kissed James lightly on his cheek. "You're so sweet, James. It seems impossible how only yesterday I told you to back off Snape. And now you're telling me all these wonderful things. I have no idea how you went through that change."

"It was because I finally realized that I was being a prat, and an egotistical one at that. I knew that a change was needed, especially since the Wizarding world needs Aurors like me to protect everyone from Voldemort. He's gaining so much power now."

"James, you're not an Auror yet," corrected Y/n smiling at her fiancé's determination.

"I know. But I also know that I'm going to be an Auror no matter what it takes."

"Now I know why I agreed to marry you. Two years ago, I would've hexed you into oblivion if you asked me for my hand in marriage. And now I'm the happiest woman on earth because I'm going to get married to the man I love and live as much of life as I can."

"Aww...n/n, you're too sweet." A single tear trickled down James' cheek, and a stunned Y/n wiped it off, hugging him closely.

"Aren't I though? But I do think I owe you an apology."

"For what?"

"For being such a stubborn prat these years. I've always loved you, ever since fifth year, and yet I've been trying to trick myself out of my love for you. I'm so sorry, James."

"Now, now, love, there's no reason to be sorry. I'm definitely not. I'm getting married to the most wonderful woman in the world soon. I can't be happier."

Y/n smiled and the two lovers held each other, oblivious to their surroundings. For their love was unconquerable, and they'd always have each other, no matter what.

Y/n woke up, sweat pouring down her face, as she breathed quickly and harshly. She had just woken up from another one of her visions, and it affected her more than any of the others.

"Y/n? You there?" Arabella sat up groggily, wiping her eyes and blinking at the blurry redhead.

"What's wrong?" asked Violet, concerned. "Did you have another vision again?"

"Yes."

"What was it about?" said Jennifer curiously.

"Oh, you won't believe it. Potter and I were sitting next to each other, and we were saying words of love. It was so sick, I swore I was going to throw up or do something drastic. Surprisingly, Potter was actually—I don't know—pleasant in the dream, and he was a romantic, just like Frank had said. What does it all mean?"

Arabella rolled her eyes. "Well, what do you think it means? James is going to change, obviously! He's going to grow out of hexing innocent people and strutting around the school like he's a king or something. Well, that's a good thought, at least."

Y/n snorted. "Impossible! Potter...changing? That's as unlikely as Gryffindors and Slytherins becoming chummy with each other."

"Don't think like that," warned Violet, shaking her head. "James is a nice guy, and you should give him a chance, Y/n. You never did let him change."

"Well, I hope he's not going to change for me! I just want him to change because he realizes that hexing people, especially Snape, doesn't do good, and it makes you stoop low to the same level as Slytherins."

Jennifer sighed, exchanging exasperated looks with Arabella and Violet. Suddenly, she gave a dazzling grin, showing off all her teeth, and it reminded Y/n strongly of Gilderoy Lockhart.

"What're you grinning at?" she demanded.

"You love Potter, that's what. Merlin's beard, you really do love him! Oh, this is brilliant!" Jennifer was nearly in hysterics.

"Well, of course she does, Jen," said Arabella matter-of-factly. "Where have you been?"

"No, no, not that. It's just that Y/n loves James. It's not just a simple crush; it's true love that's unbreakable in any way. It's a simple, pure, beautiful love."

"Yes," agreed Violet dreamily, her eyes shining. "It's so romantic."

"Vi!" Jennifer scoffed.

"What?"

"Don't be a goose. You're always in for romantic things."

"So are you! Ever since you started dating Remus, that is, in our second year. It's been three years and you two still haven't had a fight yet. Quite a miracle, in my opinion. Sirius and Bella have gotten into three fights and a million bickers."

"Don't jinx it, then. As I was saying before Vi rudely interrupted—"

"Y/n and James are madly in love," supplied Arabella.

"Oh, yes, right! Y/n, you and James are in love with each other. It's that simple. Don't look at me like that! There's nothing to argue over; it's so obvious."

"Why do you keep insisting that I love Potter? Do you love to torture me so?"

"Yes," replied the other three girls simultaneously. Y/n rolled her eyes and threw her pillow straight across the room, hitting Violet square on the face.

Soon there was a jumble of pillows flying about the room, while the four fifth year girls squealed and shouted, waking up nearly everyone in Gryffindor Tower. Girls from other dormitories dragged their sleeping belongings to their dorm, flustered and angry, and yelling for them to stop disturbing their "beauty sleep".

Finally, McGonagall had come into their dormitory with her usual stiff black hair in curlers and wearing a tartan nightdress. She squinted at them through her spectacles and her eyes widened when she realized that Y/n was one of the occupants.

"Ms. L/n!" she exclaimed in horror. "You are a prefect! You know better than to wake up Gryffindor Tower at one o'clock in the morning. I do expect better of you."

Y/n flushed. "Oh, please, Professor, I really didn't mean it. You won't deduct points from Gryffindor, will you?"

McGonagall sighed. "I suppose not, at least not today. But I do hope this won't happen again."

"No, Professor," the four girls chorused, amid snickers and finger-pointing.

"Well," began Jennifer, as everyone left, "that was interesting."

"Very."

The dreaded O.W.L.s were finally over with as the fifth years headed outside for a well-deserved break after their last exam. The Marauders and the girls went to different directions: the former to the shade under a tree and the latter next to the lake. The main reason for their ignorance with each other was because of Y/n and James, whom were both furious with the other.

Nearly two days ago, James had hexed Snape openly after an O.W.L. exam, and Y/n had intervened, having not able to stand the tyranny of the latter any longer. The result was not wonderful; Lily had not "deflated" James' head, and James got even more rejection from the girl he loved. Life was not going well for the both of them.

The Marauders had taken refuge under the very same tree where a famous trio would be under twenty years later. They were planning their summer, and decided to not have anything to do with the girls, for the two groups were not getting along well at all. Arabella and Jennifer were still Sirius and Remus' girlfriends, respectively, of course, but they weren't as close as they were before the lake incident. They did, however, agree that they should be over at James' house for one week that summer just to plan more havoc.

The girls had also agreed to a reunion during the summer, and it was decided that it would be at Arabella's house, since Jennifer's parents were going to France for their wedding anniversary. They readily decided not to invite the Marauders over, for there was still a stiff, unsettling tension between them now, and the chummy feelings were gone.

Now Y/n and James have come to an unsettled agreement and hadn't talked to each other ever since the "incident" with Snape. After Y/n had stalked off when James refused to listen to her and was planning to take off Snape's pants, they had started an argument in the common room that night. It had ended when Y/n finally shouted at James that Snape would hate Harry when he grew up because of the poor treatment James had given the former in their old school days. So now the two used-to-be-friendly groups were on in their own worlds, discussing topics unrelated to each other.

"Snivellus was lucky that L/n was there, or I would've done something even more drastic," said James, yawning, as he played with his Snitch carelessly, while Peter gasped and applauded once more.

"Definitely," agreed Sirius, sighing. "But I wish that the girls would speak to us; I mean, it's all over now, isn't it? Arabella won't even look at me when we pass in the corridors or something."

"Then that's her problem, isn't it? I don't know why they won't speak to us, Padfoot, since this is only between L/n and me. You guys should just go back to being good friends with each other."

"But they don't want to," put in Remus, looking rather wild at not having talked to Jennifer for more than he could stand.

"Well, like I said, it's their problem."

"Prongs, why don't you and Y/n become friends?" asked Peter, exasperated.

"Exactly my point," agreed Sirius. Remus nodded emphatically as well.

"Wormtail, you do know that I really like Y/n—maybe even love her. But she hates me. I may as well give up. I mean, how can she not hate me?"

Remus smiled. "That, Prongs, is called the process of deflating and becoming a gentleman."

"Excuse me?"

"No offense, Prongs, but your ego is a bit—er—"

"Bigger than it should be," finished Sirius.

"And that's the main reason why Y/n doesn't like you—or so she says. She's seeing the façade that you put on to hide your real self. You're seriously trying to belie yourself, Prongs. Show Y/n the real you...the James that was determined to help my transformations get better by going against the law and endangering yourselves. And the James that is caring and thoughtful and always helping whenever he can. That's the James you have to show Y/n in order for her to care for you."

"That was beautiful, Moony," croaked Sirius, his voice cracking.

"You're right, Moony," said James, smiling, afraid that tears were about to pour out of his eyes at any minute. "But how do I do all that?"

"We'll begin this September, when sixth year starts," said Remus, secretly happy that James was finally going to let go of that ego he possessed in great amounts.

"Thanks guys." James gave them all a brotherly hug. "I owe you for life."

"Nah, consider it a freebie favor," said Sirius, winking. They all chuckled at his antics.

Meanwhile, the girls were by the lake, dipping their feet into the cool water and feeling the tentacles of the giant squid touch their soles lightly.

"Finally, the evil O.W.L.s are over," said Arabella gratefully.

"Finally," echoed Jennifer and Violet.

"It wasn't that bad," said Y/n optimistically, "though the Divination one was a disaster, I tell you. Professor Marshbanks was looking at me like I was mad when I told her that she was suffer from heart pains for the rest of her life."

"I told Tofty that he'd lose all his money and that his lifeline was as short as his hair," said Arabella, shrugging. "He wasn't so happy about it, to tell you the truth."

"That's because you should've told him that he'd grown as old as Dumbledore and become rich," said Jennifer promptly. "That's what I told Tofty, and he started beaming at me like I was his granddaughter or something. It works with nearly everyone except for Trelawney."

"That's 'cause she's a miserable bat," said Violet gloomily. "I failed Potions too...I couldn't get the last ingredient for the Remedial Potion."

"It was leeches," said Y/n.

"Oh, was it? I said it was bat ears."

"Bats don't have ears, Vi," corrected Arabella, giggling.

"They do! How else are they supposed to fly so well?"

"With their eyes..."

"Bats are blind!"

"Now, now girls," chided Y/n. "We're almost at the end of our fifth year; you should at least be kind to each other."

"Yes, Mum."

"Well, well, well, if it isn't L/n, Figg, Dean, and Walker." Trish Vance sneered at them, while clutching Frank's arm painfully.

"Hello, Trish, Frank," greeted Y/n through gritted teeth. "I see you've been enjoying yourselves."

Frank sighed immediately, rolling his eyes, while Trish pretended not to notice and said, "Oh, we're having the time of our lives! Ever since Frank dumped that Hart girl, he's been happier than ever."

"Are you sure about that?" said Jennifer sharply.

"Of course I'm sure, Dean. Who wouldn't be happy with me?" She gave Jennifer a smug smile.

"I wouldn't," the latter muttered under her breath.

"Frankie? Why so quiet?"

"Don't call me that," he ordered.

"Why not? I think it's utterly cute!"

"It's—it's what Alice used to call me."

Trish narrowed her eyes. "You mean Hart? Well, at least she has fine taste in nicknames, I have to say—"

"Alice is better than you," interrupted Y/n, her green eyes blazing. "She's kind, considerate, smart, and she's a prefect. And you're just a low-life brat who's jealous of her! Yes, that's right! Jealous!"

"My dear L/n, I do believe you're raving," said Trish smoothly, though her delicate cheeks looked rather flustered. "Perhaps a bit of pumpkin juice will do the trick..."

"Leave her alone, Trish," said Frank quietly.

"Why should I?" she demanded angrily.

"Because she's right," said Arabella coolly. "Alice is so much better than you. You are just jealous—jealous that Alice has Frank and everything that you've ever wanted."

Trish snorted. "Hart doesn't have Frankie anymore. He dumped her, remember?"

The four girls looked at Frank expectantly, as if wanting him to say that he still loved Alice. But he remained silent, looking at his reflection on the lake. Trish huffed and stomped off back to the castle again.

"Why don't you get Alice back?" hissed Y/n.

"She hates me," was his only coherent reply.

"Well, I don't blame her. If you don't get her back, then...see you at her wedding."

"Wedding?" Frank spluttered.

"Yeah. Sturges is planning to ask her to marry him next year. So if you don't hurry up, she'll be Alice Diggle instead of Alice Longbottom."

With that said, Y/n led her friends back to the castle, leaving a stunned Frank Longbottom behind.

"Potter," said Y/n venomously. "You have to let us share this compartment! There's no where else to sit. The only one with space in it is occupied by Snape and his gang. C'mon, please?"

"I thought you rather favored Snape, since you so willingly stood up for him a few days ago," replied James coolly. "Go off with you now; we're not going to allow you the pleasure."

"James..."

Did L/n just call me James? James shook his head. Maybe I should give her a chance. After all, Moony told me that I had to start the process of deflation soon.

"Oh, fine, L/n, you can take this compartment. If it makes you any happier, I'll go and sit with the Slytherins so you can have my seat, since there aren't enough in this compartment."

Y/n looked surprised. "No, you don't have to, Potter, I'll just sit on the floor if I have to—"

"Oh, no, I do insist." With that said, James swept out of the compartment, not giving a single last glance.

"That was sweet of him," commented Jennifer, smiling. "I never knew James had it in him."

Remus grinned mischievously and exchanged delighted looks with Sirius and Peter, who understood James' whole plan of changing everything he was known for.

"All right, Remus Lupin, tell me what James is really planning," whispered Jennifer, frowning.

"He's started," said the werewolf briefly.

"Started what?"

"The process."

"The process of what? Remus!"

"Oh, just kidding, Jenny. Prongs—James—is starting the process of deflation. You know, deflating his ego, stuff like that. It's working, too."

"That's wonderful!"

"What's wonderful?" said Y/n suspiciously.

"Nothing," the couple replied automatically.

"Whatever."

Meanwhile, James was having bad luck in the Slytherins' compartment.

"You owe me, Potter," said Snape viciously. "You owe me your whole life."

"Sure, Snivellus," said James cheerfully. "Whatever you say! How are you today?"

"Absolutely spiffing," replied the greasy-haired boy sarcastically.

"Potter, tell us what you're doing here with us Slytherins when you should be conversing with your slimy Gryffindor friends," said Rosier, frowning.

"My dear Evan, don't be so sour! I want to be friends with you; don't you understand?"

Bellatrix and Narcissa snorted with disbelief, and Lestrange raised his eyebrows.

After the uneventful train ride, the eight of them met their parents. James grinned as he spotted his parents waving next to a Ministry car.

"You didn't come out of the same compartment as your friends," said Mr. Potter immediately.

"Yeah, the girls came to sit with us, and there wasn't enough room for Y/n, so I decided to—er—go to another compartment."

"That's so sweet, James," said Mrs. Potter tearfully. "I didn't know my son was such a gentleman!"

"You didn't sit with Hufflepuffs, did you?" Mr. Potter was thunderstruck.

"Er—no, actually, I sat with the Slytherins." James closed his eyes, waiting for the blow to come.

"WHAT?"

"It was the only compartment with space in it!"

Just then, Y/n left her parents and stood in front of James, her cheeks red.

"Yes?" said James curtly.

"C-Can I speak to you privately?"

As they reached a part of King's Cross that was inhabited, Y/n blurted, "Look, thanks."

"For what?"

"For giving me your seat in the train and having to sit with those awful Slytherins." Y/n made a face.

James laughed. "It's no problem, L/n—Y/n."

Y/n smiled and hugged James. "See you this September...James."

James looked dazed, watching Y/n go back with her parents again. She had called him by his first name, instead of "Potter"! He felt as though he could jump for joy, but fought the urge, as he went back to his parents again, beaming.

There's hope after all, he thought joyously, as he got into the car.

A/N: I'm so sorry that I kept you waiting for this chapter, but it's done, and I'm rather pleased with it...not. It's terrible again, I know, but I'm getting major Writer's Block! However, I do have stuff planned for Y/n and James' summers...especially for James. This summer is where he gets a new companion moving in with his family.

tags; @theredheadedwinchester

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