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douxparadies · 4 years ago

Text

Butterfly effect

SUMMARY: Draco knows when his life was ruined, when the selection hat shouted Gryffindor over his head instead of Slytherin.

Pairing: slight Draco Malfoy x Oc

Word Count: 13k.

A/N: This idea had been going around in my mind for quite some time and, only now, I managed to pass it on to the keyboard. I hope you like it, as I like to write it.

This idea quickly covers the original books, but perhaps if they like it, it will cover a little more of their adult life or some particular time. This story might actually be a long story in some future, but it is still in meditation.

♦♦♦

Draco Malfoy has a perfect life, is a pure blood and is at the top of the wizarding society. His life was always surrounded by perfection, even if his father was sometimes too strict, it was the best for him. The supremacy of blood, his father insisted every day, as if he had to engrave it in his memory. His mother, although she did not seem to support him in everything, not that she complained, was the perfect wife who obeyed her husband. So, he grows up tough, he can't play all the time and he has to be perfect like his family.

We are better.

She remembers her father commenting one day in Diagon Alley, pointing to the family of red hair. His father is the man he admires, so when he sees him despise others, he does the same.

But his life does not go as planned.

Draco can define the exact moment and the word that ruins his life from an early age. Where his whole perfect world falls apart in a single moment, where the nightmare seems to begin and where his life gives an unexpected change from what it should have been.

“Gryffindor” is the cry of the hat, after a long period of deliberation in his head.

The room is completely silent.

He is petrified.

Draco had been completely sure that he would go to Slytherin, his parents were in that house, that was his destiny. Almost as a joke he remembers his father wanting to send him to Durmstrang, but his mother changing her mind because she wanted to keep him close to home. How much he would have wished not to be in this house, how much he would have missed being at another school.

His parents were going to kill him.

He walks almost like a dead man, to that bright red table where nobody applauds and they look confused when he sits as far away as possible. He thinks of his suitcase full of green clothes, he thinks of his father who had practically demanded that he be in the snake house. He doesn't look up all night, almost clenching his fists in annoyance.

His usual arrogance, which he always imitates from his parents, doesn't show.

He doesn't have it at that moment.

He ignores that the first-year students follow their superiors, he runs following the teachers, almost skating when he sees the director talking to his godfather Snape. He had a frightened face when he was left in the lions' house. He practically begs, ignoring that his father would be ashamed, he begs to be moved from the house where he should be.

“I'm sorry, my boy, your home is now Gryffindor," Albus admits with some regret in his eyes.

Draco turns his face to Snape in a last attempt to help, but he just looks away and his hopes are dashed. There's still one left, his father would never let it end that way, he would find a way for it to go to the house it was meant to be.

But as Draco learns at a young age.

Things don't happen the way he wants them to.

Ignoring that he has to spend a week in the tower of Gryffindor, with a bunch of useless people who hate him almost as much as he hates them, ignoring above all Harry Potter (who is the last of his problems at the moment with the redheaded boy) and practically behind everything in his classes. He doesn't go out to eat if he can avoid people and just waits for the moment when his father fixes all this misunderstanding.

And it happens.

When Snape quotes him after his potions class in the principal's room, a genuine smile appears on his face as he enters and sees his father standing in front of Dumbledore. A boastful smile appears on his face when he feels that he will finally get out of the hell he has lived through in a week.

But at that moment, it was where all start.

The slap comes so quickly, that even the pain, seems not to appear and he feels that he is still in the middle of a nightmare. An ironic part inside him thinks that all this is a dream, that at any moment his mother would enter his room scolding him because they would be late. That he would be in Slytherin in a few hours.

“A complete disappointment, you can't even enter a house, what a shame to have a useless person sharing my blood” every word from his father, makes his smile fade from his face.

It makes him incredulous.

Your father sees him with hatred, as he always sees those of dirty blood, as he sees those inferior to them.

Draco turns to see everyone in the room, thinking that all this was a bad joke, that this is a nightmare, he almost begs someone to wake him up. But when he sees his mother in the distance of the room, lowering her gaze, when he sees the uncomfortable look of Snape or the pity look of the director.

Something inside him breaks.

I am a failure.

It is his thought, before turning around and running away, that he does not stop when he leaves the castle or when he enters the forbidden forest. In the middle of the forest he lets out his tears, as he kneels down embracing himself, feeling the perfect dream where he had lived this time.

It is destroyed.

♦♦♦

Draco wonders why he still attends classes, his father had practically given up on him in an alarming way and his mother, following his father, does not send him letters or other things. It's as if he never had any parents and they never had a child, which sucked. He finds himself lost in the castle, not feeling part of the lion's house, but nowhere either. Snape sometimes seems to want to help him, but he couldn't care less. Even his housemates who hate him seem to leave him behind when they see him so depressed.

The world sucks.

It assumes when he starts eating monotonously when everyone else does, only the farthest thing from everyone else.

He is depressed.

As pathetic as that can be.

Sometimes his gaze falls on the house of the snakes, seeing them with envy and wishing he were there, everything would be easier. His parents wouldn't hate him or reject him as it happened, he would probably be the best of his generation, the popular type because of his blood. But no, he was at the bottom of the food chain, he was pathetic, with no friends, no family, no status.

He sighed, waving his boring fork at the food.

His life was ruined and he didn't know what else to do.

He always thought that the people who came to Gryffindor, were the people who were sad to see, he was indeed right. Now he was a pathetic person who was embarrassed to see that.

A person takes a seat in front of him, ignores him as best he can until he hears him clear his throat. He gives his worst death stare to Harry Potter who appears in front of him. They have been in school for a little over a month and honestly, it was not someone he wanted to see. His father always told him stories about the boy who lived, as if it was his duty to be friends with someone so popular. Who turned out to be a very simple and annoying boy.

Although he was sincere.

Now he didn't care about that.

“What do you want?” he grumbled before shoving a potato into his mouth with a bit of rudeness.

This one seemed a little uncomfortable in front of him.

“I'm sorry, Ron was being a bit of an asshole, telling me not to go near you because you're a pain in the ass, but you really look...bad” the last word comes out of his mouth with hesitation as he grimaces as he speaks.

A humorless laugh comes out of his mouth.

No one knows your misfortune.

He was a nobody.

The memory of his father's cold eyes, make him angry for no apparent reason.

“You should have listened to that blood traitor” he mumbles weakly.

Was he a blood traitor too?

His father treated him worse than one.

He notices a grimace on Harry's face.

“You're making Ron's point.”

“Look Potter, not that I'm interested, but what do you want from me?” he asks boringly this time.

Make fun?

Most of his Gryffindor ‘companions’ had clearly mocked him in the last month, about how someone of pure blood has to be with mere mortals. Like this how a Slytherin's mocked him as he passed by, saying that it was a shame that a pure-blooded person with his lineage ended up in that house. He clearly didn't fit in anywhere and was beginning to get tired of people looking for something of his own.

He didn't meet the standard they set for him.

To be a failure.

“Well, you look lonely, I thought we could be friends” says the boy with ease, who doesn't seem to be the same boy who almost rejected his friendship in the stair.

When everything was perfect and I wasn't in this horrible house.

He saw him confused, before getting up upset.

“I'm not looking for your fucking pity Potter and I'm not looking for your fucking friendship either” he grunt in anger before turning around and leaving the room.

He was angry.

He ended up in the library, feeling like a horrible book rat like the Ravenclaws, but it was the only place he felt he was calm. The only good thing was that he had taken advantage of this time to improve in all his classes, being alone and without friends, he would be a competent wizard, hoping that that way his father would not be disappointed in him.

He would be the best in his house.

Although Granger's bitch was making it difficult for him.

♦♦♦

Childishly and still hopefully, he thought that the Christmas holidays were what he occupied, a few days away from all those Gryffindor (ignoring that he was one) and return to his home, where everything would be as it always should be. Of course, nothing goes as he hopes and the icy look on his father's face confirms that he still hates him. He tries uselessly to approach him every day, with the flame of hope, light but existing. But the only words I pronounced for him, was refusing to attend the party they used to do for Christmas.

That 24th of December, he spends in his room looking at nothing.

He felt that his family had abandoned him.

Going back to Hogwarts was stupidly better than being at home.

At least there he would just get away from everyone.

Following his plan to study as much as possible to be the best in his class and to prove to his father that he was worthy, even though he never had to work hard at anything in his life, it doesn't seem to be working. The letters he sends to his mother are mostly ignored, his father seems uninterested in acknowledging him and everything seems worse when Granger mercilessly sweeps away every damn exam.

Sometimes Potter takes a seat with him at meals, his friends seem to see him badly, but sometimes the Granger girl seems to follow him, to the grimaces of the Wesley boy, who never comes close.

“I hope you have a good day Draco” greets kindly Hermione, who seems encouraged that they are some kind of rivals in her house.

Both of them were the ones who contributed the most points.

He ignores her.

“You should come and see me play sometime,” says Harry sometimes, almost rubbing him the wrong way round, as he could get into the quidditch even though he's a year younger.

Of course.

It's Harry Potter.

But he who wants to move house, the laws cannot be flexible for him.

Ignore them both.

He ignores everyone in his first year, although when the time comes to return home, even though Harry Potter and company had to fight against, he really doesn't care what with, it ceases to be important when he is alone in a train carriage. When he arrives at the station, he can see how most children are welcomed by their family, but he feels the cold in his body when Dobby appears shyly in front of him.

His parents are busy, he says.

He laughs with irony.

His life sucks.

♦♦♦

Being at home is more boring than being at Hogwarts, which is saying a lot. He eats at times when his father is away, his mother does not speak to him and he feels more alone than ever. He decides to go for a walk, with nothing to lose and almost wishing lightning would strike him to end that misery. He wants to get lost in the middle of the forest, never appear and stay there forever. His father had always tried to show him the pride of being a pure blood, but a part of him doesn't make sense.

His father loves prestige.

As he was no longer someone in his image, someone to be presumed, he was discarded.

He was useless.

He was not good enough for his father.

His only comment when he arrived home was that he was so useless, that a dirty blood it had beaten him on his grades.

He kicked a tree hard, not feeling the pain in his foot.

He hadn't asked for that, he hadn't asked to be in a family like that, he wanted his life before what was happening now.

“Kicking a tree is not very useful” a somewhat shrill voice speaks next to him.

He turns his face confused, not understanding where he was, he didn't know how long he had been walking and where he was, shit. The one who speaks is a girl, younger than him with red hair and brown eyes, who has clothes that do not look new and can identify as a member of the Weasley family.

As if that thought attracted them, two red hairs of identical face appear moments later.

“Look who Ginny has found.”

“Something quite curious in the forest.”

The Weasley twins speak in a somewhat scary coordination, he grimaces uncomfortably. The twins hadn't bothered him as much as others in the lion's house, but they were known as potential troublemakers.

The girl tilts her face in confusion.

He clicks his tongue.

His father would probably say something like "blood traitors" inciting him to walk away or make fun of them, but if he was sincere, his father treated him almost the same way at this point.

His stomach seems to ring at the wrong omentum and he blushes with shame.

What was missing.

The twins laugh in a not so discreet way. The girl gives them a reprimand before putting her hands on their hips and looking somewhat threatening.

He wants to die.

‘Never show weakness’

His father used to say.

“Are you hungry?” asked the girl with something like mercy.

He wants to treat her badly, he wants to run and tell everyone that he hates them, he wants the life he should have had, he doesn't want to be there.

He wants his life.

He wants to be Draco Malfoy, the powerful Slytherin he was meant to be.

But it doesn't happen, even in a world full of magic like this one, where nothing seems impossible, his wish is never fulfilled no matter how much he seems to ask for it.

“No” it is cursed that his voice comes out so hollow.

The girl's smile seems to be intact.

He feels a chill on his back.

♦♦♦

No one says ‘No’ to Ginny Weasley, learns Draco sooner rather than later. He feels uncomfortable and in a parallel world when he enters the house of the "Weasley" family which the three children present as the burrow. He shouldn't be there, he thinks when the mother of the children sees him with big bulging eyes when they force him through the door, but a dog face to die from Ginny and commenting that he hasn't eaten anything, makes the matriarch even with doubts in her eyes, make him pass.

“This must be a joke," says Ron when he comes down to eat and sees him sitting at the table.

‘I wish’ Draco thinks ironically, thinking that this is the first time that they both agree on something.

Dinner (it's later than he thinks) is both a rumble and a twist, with the twins playing pranks on him, Ginny sitting next to him, excited and asking about Hogwarts, Ron giving him murderous looks, Percy looking confused and ignoring him for a book, even the father of the children watching him cautiously.

In spite of everything.

The dinner is quite good.

His father would probably kill him for eating something low class, along with blood traitors, but for the first time, he doesn't care. Because for the first time in a long time, the overwhelming silence of his home and the feeling of disappointing everyone is overshadowed by a meal that is too noisy.

“Why don't you stay over?” Ginny asks innocently.

Everyone turns to see her as if she had gone mad, including him, it's not something anyone wants.

But as he learns and reaffirms.

Nobody can say no to the girl.

♦♦♦

His parents ignore his letter where he says that he is sleeping at a friend's house, they do not ask, they do not look for him and that makes him feel worse. He could come back through the Flu network, but honestly, in this house where he does not feel comfortable, they seem to treat him better than his parents, which leaves a lot to be said. He begins to doubt Mrs. Weasley's mentality, which not only lets him stay without many explanations but also puts him in the same room as Ron.

Bad omen.

He practically vomits the way he has, so he is not surprised to sleep on the floor. What he is surprised about is how little he cares. He had never gone to sleep in someone else's house, always in his comfortable bed, surrounded by people he thought loved him. At least in that place people don't seem to ignore him completely.

Anyway, the floor is uncomfortable.

Draco does not know if Ron commented on something or started a conversation, he does not know if it was that he was too upset by his words or if he seemed resentful, what he do know is that he started the first blow. But in his defense, Ron also threw the next punch and they were both on the floor fighting like people without magic.

“For a brat in a golden cradle, you fight like a girl," he grunted before receiving a punch from him.

And it feels good.

To get out the anger and the rage he've accumulated for a year.

Fighting like a person without magic, his father would reproach him for falling so low, but he doesn't care when he throws himself on Ron and leaves him motionless on the ground. His cheek is hot and his eye is swollen, but he has never felt more alive than when Ron gave him a header to knock him down.

The sound seemed to alert the rest of the family, for I soon heard footsteps.

But he ignore them.

“You don't know how much I wish a family like yours” he grunts when Ron has punched him, he stops short, looking frozen by his sad look, even his body's pain from the struggle doesn't seem to matter “at least they don't ignore or despise me for being on Gryffindor” he adds before leaving his body flabby.

He does not want to keep fighting, he already took out the anger and his thoughts, that he never imagined having.

He?

Wanting to be part of a family of traitors, he had fallen so low, his father would probably despise him as much or more than he does now.

There is a chaos at the door that seems to have been opened long ago, before Mrs. Weasley starts to scold her son and he is pushed aside. He walks without much emotion behind the patriarch of the family, who sits him in the room and starts using magic to heal his wounds. He doesn't ask when he sees a scar on his arm, which definitely wasn't made by Ron, that it was his father's fault for throwing him a cup of hot tea that has cut him and nobody in his house wants to heal.

But this man that his father despises, treats him better than his father.

He assumes, a little late and a year after being ignored by his parents, that it is time to see people on their own and not by them.

“Life takes many unexpected turns Draco, but one thing I can tell you, is that it always gives us choices” says Arthur with a friendly smile.

He turns his uncomfortable face.

“This life has put you in Gryffindor, like a butterfly effect as the Muggles say, the little flutter of a butterfly can create a storm.”

“That sounds stupid.”

“You may be right, but what I mean is that a small change can bring about very big changes in life. I know you didn't plan to be on Gryffindor, but now you are, it's your destiny that's at stake and you can choose what decision you're going to make now”

He doesn't know if it's because he's the first adult or male figure who seems to recognize his existence or someone who seems to be able to help him. He ignores his father's mental voice, rebuking him for talking to him, he swallows all his bad thoughts, which seem to have his father's voice and not his own.

“I don't think I should have been at Gryffindor” he admits in an uncomfortable voice.

The only time he admitted that, both Snape and Dumbledore practically left him to his own devices.

A hand on his shoulder, it makes his eyes freeze in Arthur's kind.

“It's just a house, Draco, even though all my children are at Gryffindor, if my daughter Ginny went to another house, it doesn't matter, it's just a house, you're the one who decides your fate” he admits with a smile full of kindness, that he wants to make him cry.

But he holds back.

It couldn't be more pathetic.

Someone clears his throat and blushes, it seems that Mrs. Weasley has been listening for a while, because her distrustful look seems to have faded and she sees him with kindness, also some pity, but he ignores that because of her poor mental health.

“I think it's time to sleep, the twins accepted you in their room” she says with a pitiful look.

He nods before going to the twins' room, who smile politely, he thinks it's not so bad.

The next day he wakes up with purple hair.

He hates them, but laughs just as much when Ginny scolds them for being so childish, and for the first time in many days, he feels at peace.

♦♦♦

When his father finds out where he's been, the slap comes so quickly that he can't help it, but even on the floor or that his mother seems upset for the first time, they don't compare when he's out of it, throws a cruciatus at him and something inside him, which is not the unimaginable pain, breaks. His mother screams in agitation and jumps to stop Lucius, who seems somewhat horrified at the sight of his wand, as if he doesn't believe that she did that to his son, but Draco couldn't care less. On the ground, he sees his father with a blank stare, while his mother tries to hug and comfort him.

But he doesn't.

That day he cuts off all relations with his father in a sentimental way.

His mother, on the other hand, seems to stop seeming important, because she doesn't say anything to her father and doesn't seem to do anything to stop him from ignoring him, calling him a blood traitor.

Returning to Hogwarts was a breath of fresh air.

♦♦♦

Something changes that year, not only that Ginny was admitted to Gryffindor and greeted him kindly, but the twins who also seem to recognize him, pull some pranks on him, which he tries not to be a part of, but ends up in the middle. Harry and Hermione still sit down next to him to eat, but now Ron does too, he also gives him a look that looks like an apology and he shrugs his shoulders. It's not like they need to say anything out loud, what they said, or didn't say, was enough.

Harry seems happy when he starts answering his usual questions, which he didn't answer before.

Hermione seems excited when she arrives at the library and they study together.

Ron massacres him at chess and seems to help his self-esteem.

Ginny, who sometimes seems a little distant, smiles vaguely at him and he feels that something is wrong.

“Your sister acts strangely” he muses in a distracted way one day when Harry is at quidditch practice.

“What are you talking about?” Ron asks selflessly.

He doesn't know how to explain it, the memory of the kind and smiling girl who drags him all over the place, it's hard to connect with the girl who seems far away from every one, with big circles under her eyes and who acts paranoid.

“I'm not sure” he muses more to himself.

He stops when Hermione drags him to study and includes Ron, who complains loudly about it. At one point they both start to fight furiously, which he sighs for, preferring when Harry is around, so he can at least entertain himself with someone else.

♦♦♦

“I'm not going to play quidditch, I only know the position of seeker and that one is occupied” he comments one day that he is reading his book, while Harry makes an angry gesture.

Last week they played quidditch in the playground for fun, the children were surprised that he wasn't bad, which he explains, it's a sport he plays as a child. Ron is not good and Hermione, well she is in a category of her own. Harry whines about having a capable partner in the middle of the team who is a friend of his or who is in the same year.

He ignores him and continues to study.

“You're a book eater like Hermione” says Harry, bored.

He throws a pillow at he mercilessly that hits he face.

“You could be good chasers”

“I'm ashamed of you for being our seeker.”

The twins laugh at his comment, he laughs before dodging Harry's spell without much thought.

♦♦♦

The year was not so bad, supposes Draco when he sees that this time he has many more people in his car back at the station. Ignoring that he and Harry ended up fighting a basilisk and that Ginny was possessed by a newspaper, it wasn't so bad. He has friends, he guesses, he never had any friends before and now he has them. Hermione seems delighted with her third year, Ron seems a little uncomfortable with the whole situation with his sister, who seems to be a little withdrawn at his side, he and Harry had rescued her for a very short time, but clearly she would have been traumatised.

When they get off the station, he sees everyone saying goodbye to him nicely.

“I think you'll be all right, if you survived that poem to Potter it can't be that bad” he jokes with Ginny, who for the first time since it happened.

Roll your eyes.

Draco is surprised to see her father at the train station, but this time he is not happy, that man is no longer someone he respects and his presence is intimidating. He swallows his saliva before it grabs him roughly by the hand and drags him out of the place.

This cannot be good.

And it is not.

His father slaps him saying that he is a fool, that he has interfered again with the return of the dark lord, while slapping him non-stop. This time his mother is not present before the next cruciatus he receives, or the three others that follow. Lucius now shouts that he is an idiot and that he is ruining his plans, before ordering Dobby to take him to his room, without remembering that his own stupidity set him free a few weeks ago with Harry.

He remembers it with pleasure.

A new Cruciatus is what he feels before he becomes unconscious.

*****

The next time he is conscious, he is in St. Mungo's hospital all alone, he sighs before going back to sleep, he raises one hand, the right one, which now has a horrible scar from his wrist to his elbow, his eyes are glazed over, the memory of the cruciatus is strong in his mind. Two days later he leaves the magic hospital, his mother picks him up, but he says nothing on the way home, which makes him feel sick, he won't say anything about the man who tortured him and cursed him until he lost consciousness.

He wants to laugh when they enter the house, which no longer feels like home.

“Andromeda, my sister, she could take care of you” she suddenly muses when they enter the place.

He looks at her with disbelief, before laughing bitterly.

“That man doesn't want me here anymore," he muses underneath, but her mother doesn't deny it.

It was true then.

You mum soon places a key in he hand, which makes him look confused, his eyes seem alarmed and he makes his lips in a thin line. He doesn't want to think about her eyes that look worried, when for two years she has practically left him at the mercy of mistreatment and her father.

“It's in my golden room at Gringotts, you can take anything you want, it's part of my Black heritage" she says quickly and he looks at her angrily.

“You can't do anything either," he muses with sarcasm and a murderous look.

His mother's eyes seem to apologize and he takes the key with hatred.

He hates the key.

But he is not an idiot either.

He runs to his room, taking some things he knows he will need, before going to the Flu net without seeing his mother and shouts the only place he can think of.

♦♦♦

Mrs. Weasley seems to be incredulous when shyly asking for accommodation in her home, but it is quickly Arthur who accepts it with a friendly smile. He explains that he will pay for his maintenance, but they practically ignore him before going to Ron to tell him that he will be his new roommate. He doesn't seem happy, but doesn't ask much when he sees his gaunt face or the scar on his hand. "I had to get out of there" is all he says and this one doesn't press him, Ginny is the one who quickly makes him feel at home.

Her eyes, which do not look like those of a child, smile warmly when she sees her scar.

He understands her look.

It is as if she can tell him something.

The twins also soon seem to be playing their tricks on him and Percy seems pleased with his notes. But it's not until one night, when Mrs. Weasley scolds him for not being warm and gives him a gray knit jumper with a "D" on it, that he feels like he's going to cry. The twins joke that she will probably give him another one at Christmas, but he ignores it.

Harry seems surprised when he shows up days later and he shrugs his shoulders.

“We have a disgusting family", says his friend with a laugh and he can't help but laugh with understanding.

They both have that in common.

Actually, they have a lot in common.

They high-five when it's their turn to play quidditch with the twins and still win.

♦♦♦

Draco looks on with pity on the first day of school when Harry seems destined to die, it's as if every year he's in the middle of bad and very bad luck. Although in his defence, it was as if all the bad things happened to him. For his part, ignoring the fact that he had practically abandoned his home, everything seemed to get better somehow. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were not in the habit of sending him things, but at Christmas they had given him a jumper and food. His mother had sent him a letter, which seemed to be hidden from his father, so he ignored it as much as possible.

“But she just appeared out of nowhere” Ron grunted one morning about Hermione that he ignored.

Lately Ron and Hermione had been arguing more.

It was annoying.

“They like each other," whispered Ginny to her funny side, which he agreed with her.

Although the friendship was mainly between Harry, Ron and Hermione, after they adopted him, somehow Ginny started to spend more time with them (a way of compensating for last year), also the twins and that boy called Neville who at first seemed to be afraid of him, but after seeing him and doing nothing to him, he spent time with him.

Not that Gryffindor had changed, of course, they didn't bother him like in his first year (for having friends he supposed) but everything seemed a little better.

Calmer.

He felt at peace.

This was his path, not one he would have chosen willingly, but it was the one he had and he would work at it.

"Like your obsession with Potter" taunts back to Ginny, who mercilessly tries to cast a spell on him and he knows it is better to run away.

When he passes through the corridor, the Slytherins look at him and make fun of him, he ignores them, but sometimes he thinks about what would have happened if he had been in that house.

Would things be different?

He had no idea.

♦♦♦

Luna was a strange girl, but she was a friend of Ginny's. Probably, he thought ironically and sarcastically, his father would not approve of the strange girl's friendship, one more reason to let her study with both of them in the middle of the library. He seemed to space himself out a bit and ask her clearly indiscreet questions but tried to ignore him and not be so arrogant. Sometimes his natural side, the arrogance and pride that he had for so many years, would come out unintentionally, Harry would reprimand him, Hermione kindly pointed him out and with Ron they would hit each other sometimes, but it was okay, they taught him.

But now there was Ginny.

And Ginny was scary.

He wouldn't mess with her if he could help it, a wise lesson he and the twins used as their mantra.

“I can sit with you; you seem smart and I need help” spoke a voice beside him.

I turn his face with boredom.

A girl with short dark brown hair and light brown eyes was standing next to him with a somewhat silly smile. He recognized her as a Hufflepuff student who sometimes stood next to the girl Hannah, who sometimes stood by Neville and he unknowingly ignored her.

What was her name?

"I am Camile” she introduced herself when she sat down without waiting for a statement from him.

Just like the destructive Ginny.

Luna's madness.

This girl did not seem normal, too smiling and expert in spells, she seemed to know nothing about Runes and almost begged him to help her. He wants to refuse, but Ginny's gaze makes him sigh and accept her in the impromptu Wednesday study group.

She's about her age, but it seems a miracle that she made it this far.

“I'm good at the duels club” she says this one in a funny way before walking away at the end of the study.

He ignores her, not that he cares.

♦♦♦

“How come we always end up on the brink of death," says Draco boringly in the middle of the infirmary.

After Harry's godfather, who turns out not to be bad and who is somehow (very distantly) related to him, ran away with a hippocriph that tried to attack him at the beginning of the year (but which he didn't do by chance). It also turns out that Professor Lupin was a werewolf and that Snape almost died trying to rescue them. Although he had some cuts on his hands, he ignores everything that Harry and Hermione did with the time-turns.

He just wants to sleep.

“In my defence I'm not looking for this” grunted Harry with his arms crossed somewhat annoyingly.

Out of the corner of his eye they both watch Ron and Hermione continue to argue.

They look at each other out of the corner of their eye before sighing.

“I think I'll bet they'll notice until the last year” he mumbles under Harry about the bet between the Weasley family and them both.

He shrugs his shoulders.

“I'm telling you Potter, Ron's going to propose, he's stupid, but it's my money on the line," he says with a slight yawn.

He sees how Hermione seems to be about to kill him, which makes him hesitate a little.

Harry laughs as he bets on Hermione.

He may be on a stretcher, two broken ribs, wounds all over his body, but he can't help but feel happy surrounded by friends.

♦♦♦

Draco had a dream, one where he stayed at Slytherin's house, where he had everything he ever wanted in his first year. Also in the middle of the dream, he treated Harry and the rest of his friends badly, humiliated them, tried many bad things against them and at night in his bed, he didn't seem to feel good about it. Then he woke up, seeing all the red around him and realized that everything that happened, had been a silly dream, probably of his childish desires.

He did not like that dream.

Although he had the life he once wanted, he did not feel happy.

“I hate my life” snarled Harry across the dining room the next day.

Sigh.

Although they were all friends, Harry and Ron were the best of friends, but when the former was selected for the Triwizard Tournament which now had four participants, Ron seemed to walk away angry from his friend. He and Hermione were juggling each other to try and bring them together as friends again.

But it was difficult.

“You're unlucky and, I'll say this, it leaves a lot to be desired” he mumbles with amusement reading a book about potions.

Last year it didn't go so well and Snape, who was his godfather, seemed about to send him off for yet another failure.

With that kind of godfather.

“I didn't put my name on it.”

“I believe you.”

“Why doesn't Ron do it?”

Clearly the lack of his best friend affected him, he grimaced at the idea of admitting that Ron was clearly jealous. He was always jealous even of himself, until he explained about his family and they hit it off, Ron saw him as an equal, but with Harry.

They occupied something that would make them friends again.

If only Ron knew what he had and when he and Harry were jealous.

Things would be different.

“Give him time” he mumbles boringly.

Harry keeps ranting for several minutes, exchanging boring looks with Neville who shrugs his shoulders, there's not much to do.

♦♦♦

“Hey blonde head” says one afternoon Camile appearing from nowhere.

He sighs bored and a little annoyed.

He is still studying with Ginny and Luna, many times Hermione joins them, but Camile was occasional, sometimes she spent weeks in a row with them and other times she almost didn't show up at all. The laughing girl was part of the dueling club and studied with Professor Mcgonagall because she wanted to be an animagus.

He loved it when she didn't show up.

She was annoying.

“What?” she says with more annoyance than she feels.

But the girl keeps smiling.

“I need help with a class," he says, still smiling and with both hands together as if she were asking for help.

He sees her with annoyance.

This brat.

“Look how low Draco has fallen, he's not only with the dirty blood and the traitor, now he surrounds himself with mestizos “ says Pansy Parkinson passing by with a group of Slytherin.

He looks at her with annoyance, but this disappears when, out of nowhere, Camile passes by and punches Pansy who leaves her on the floor crying. She grimaces at the sight of her bloody, swollen nose, Camile's wand moves faster and the other two girls are turned into little Chihuahuas with alarming ease.

I didn't know she was so good.

He sees her impressed, this one seems bored.

“You know not all Hufflepuffs are so patient” she admits with a shrug.

He goes to say something, but a teacher comes over to scold Camile, which seems not to be the first time he has done something like that.

They end up at the address.

He wasn't to blame, but he's still an eyewitness.

♦♦♦

He can't help but be curious, Snape is kind and explains what he knows. Camile Marsell is a half Spanish and half French witch. It seems that her mother was from a fairly powerful lineage in the French country from one of the highest pure-blooded families, but she fell in love with a Muggle. She gave up everything she had to follow a Spanish man (who loved music) and Camile was born out of that relationship. The laughing girl had great potential for magic, but seemed a little confused like Harry at first.

half Blood.

The word collides in her mind.

Something that her father abhorred, over his pure-blooded supremacy.

Wizarding like Harry or Camile were not entirely unpleasant, Hermione was certainly a genius at magic.

There was nothing wrong with them.

Her father was wrong.

“You don't have to defend me," he snarls at Camile when Dumbledore gives him a scolding.

She smiles, ignoring his words.

“Friends help each other," she says, smiling.

He wants to ask her how long they've been friends, but he's tired and prefers to go to bed early.

♦♦♦

He applauds Harry when he manages to survive a fight with the dragon, which finally manages to calm the friendship between Harry and Ron, to the relief of him and Hermione. But soon the idea of a ball of the chosen ones, comes to stay in his group of friends and the whole school actually. He is about to say that he does not intend to go, but his friends end up dragging him along before he can refuse. He watches with amusement as Hermione accepts that someone has invited her and Ron seems incredulous as if he is indignant. He doesn't say anything about seeing Victor, a professional player, invite Hermione the other day.

Laughs when Ginny admits defeat in accepting Neville's invitation, almost dying of not being able to help Harry.

Harry who is rejected by Cho.

His friends are involved in many romantic dramas.

“Who will you go with?” asks Ron one day with suspicion in the middle of the great hall.

A memory of the last week comes to his mind, not that he thought about looking for a partner, but since he is going to the ball, he thinks that going alone would be pathetic, for a moment he thinks about inviting Luna, but he regrets it immediately. She may be Ginny's best friend, but she doesn't think she can be with her, without the intervention of the redhead for a long time. Hermione is clearly not available, so he thinks of the only girl besides them with whom he has contact.

One of those afternoons he walks to the library, where he sees Camile concentrating, or rather, not concentrating on the study but on making magical circles in the air.

He wants to run, but reluctantly walks to her.

“Do you want to go to the ball with me?” she asks when he takes a seat next to her.

He does not know if he has read her mind or she is really looking for a pair.

He shrugs her shoulders.

She smiles as always.

He doesn't tell Ron what really happened.

“I'm going with Camile, she's a Hufflepuff we studied with” he admits without telling the truth.

Draco has a pride to bear.

He sees Ron's completely betrayed face; Harry seems to laugh vaguely at the misfortune.

♦♦♦

The ball is not as bad as he thinks, Ron and Harry seem completely unhappy at some point, but Hermione really looks like fun, he has run into Ginny who greets him cheerfully several times, giving him funny looks every time Camile forces him to dance. Camile is strange, in a way he doesn't understand, she always seems to smile and has a lot of energy. Her father would be horrified that he considers her a friend and inwardly rejoices and hopes that he will ever find out, only to see her face horrified.

The memories of the cruciatus make him shiver, making Camile curious.

“You look like a boy with secrets” she says amusingly when they finish a dance and have a drink.

He ignores her by shrugging his shoulders.

Out of the corner of her eye, he sees Ron lose his dance partner for giving Hermione a dirty look, Draco feels the family's bet in her pocket.

“I like boys with secrets," adds Camile, making him spit out a little of his drink and look incredulous.

She lets out a loud laugh before forcing him to dance to a song, which he doesn't know like the others, making him look, probably, ridiculous.

But she smiles so big that she forces herself to be there.

When the dance is over, Ginny catches him from behind before whispering to him to accompany Camile to her door. He thinks it's ridiculous, but as long as the girl doesn't see him with big eyes, he accepts. Camile doesn't seem to mind when they walk together in comfortable silence.

She is finally tired of talking, he thinks briefly funny.

Everything in his mind seems to die when a pressure on his lips makes him freeze, it lasts a few seconds, but when he separates, he sees Camile as a fish out of water. He has never kissed a girl, he is ashamed to admit it, especially because in his first kiss, he was not initiated by him. Male pride on the floor. He sees the spark of fun in the girl's eyes.

Who has a beautiful green dress, his long hair in a hairstyle that only a girl could do and light makeup.

She is pretty.

Admits reluctantly, not bad for a first kiss.

He takes her behind the head and now it is him who kisses her, to recover a little of his pride, he would never admit in a million years that it is because he has liked the first one.

They kiss a little more.

When Draco lies down on her bed, a satisfied smile fills her face.

♦♦♦

Everything seems to be in chaos when Credic dies, he feels fear and terror for what it means. Even when no one seems to want to believe Harry, he believes him, because his father for years talked about the awakening of the dark lord and now, they are living it. He is afraid, he is horrified and in his fifth year, he understands that nothing good can come of this. The holiday in the burrow seems like a distant dream, which he now wishes to recover. Harry's visions clearly do not help at all and everything seems to be a whirlpool of desolation.

“So much for a quiet year” confesses Ginny one afternoon that they are together in the corridors.

Above all, with Dolores Umbridge hovering around.

Annoying and toad-faced.

Touching his hand briefly with bandages, having supported Harry was not such a good idea when they both shared the punishment, but he was her friend.

“Well at least someone is doing well with the plan to outdo Harry Potter”- he comments amusingly before pushing her playfully.

This one sees him incredulous, before wanting to put a spell on him.

“You haven't told me more about Camile after I saw them kissing” says Ginny in a funny way.

She had caught them that Yule ball, but had the decency not to say it out loud and only to harass him when he was alone.

Kind, he assumed.

Or blackmailing.

“We didn't talk much” he admitted something uncomfortable.

They have greeted each other in the corridors, studied with everyone, but nothing has happened between them. It's as if the ball was just a fleeting dream one night and it bothers him to admit that it irritates him more than he wants to admit.

“Who would say, both suffering from unrequited love.”

“At least I kissed her.”

Ginny's bat mucus appears so quickly and painfully, that he can only shake his hands feeling that he is drowning.

But the satisfaction remains within he of winning a verbal fight.

♦♦♦

Draco looks uncomfortably, as clearly the students of the house Slytherin have a clear preferential treatment for the toad face. He sees them as annoying when they keep making fun of him, but more than annoying, inside he feels uncomfortable. He has dreams where he sees himself in the house of the snakes and that makes him sleep uneasy, he does not like what he sees, that Draco that bothers others (as they do with his person) and that intimidates his current friends. He is afraid to say that to them, since he is a person that he does not like.

It is like hating a part of himself.

Because he knows, if he had stayed at Slytherin's house, he would have done it.

He was so fooled by the man who is his father, so full of resentment towards those who are not pure blood.

Most of the wizarding society is not pure blood.

Idiot.

“Draco?” calls Harry when they go to their private of forbidden classes on defence against the dark arts.

All because of his current teacher.

He sucked.

“I was thinking” he muses quietly, making Harry raise an eyebrow to see him confused, but he doesn't dare say his thoughts, maybe he shouldn't have been a Gryffindor as he was a coward “don't look at me like that, at least my date didn't cry all afternoon” he adds in a mocking tone.

Harry groans clearly ashamed and feels a little satisfaction at seeing him suffer for normal things.

Draco stops uncomfortably when in the middle of the room when he sees how Camile seems to have convinced Hannah to join "Dumbledore's army", all thanks to Ginny, he doesn't know whether to kill his pseudo little sister or thank her.

Harry sees him confused, Draco is grateful that he is an idiot in those matters, he had enough tragedy with Hermione and Ginny, besides Neville.

“Potter” starts Camile by his side humming funny and giving him a curious look, which he ignores as best he can.

“Camile, I'm glad you and Hannah could come, the more people the better” Harry spoke shyly, but glad to see her.

He whimpered when he admitted that, although they were not friends, Camile used to have casual conversations with the boy, especially about Quidditch.

The girl smiled too much, for his taste.

“There are cute boys to see around here, of course I'd come," she says honestly and without any apparent shame.

Harry is shocked, she turns to him and gives him a flirty wink before leaving. It's thanks to that that Harry turns to see he with an incredulous mouth, he prefers to leave quickly next to someone else, trying not to let the red of his cheeks be so noticeable.

♦♦♦

He looks incredulously at Hermione and Ginny sitting in front of him, both ranting about men, almost ignoring him at the time. He sighs thinking about how he agreed to study with them, turns his face to the window, almost wishing he could be out with Harry and Ron, but he had made a decision, he regretted it, clearly, but he is not one to go back on his word. In his suitcase in his room, a letter from his mother asking him to stay away from any trouble indicated that, soon, there would be trouble.

Not just the attempt on Arthur's life.

He felt uncomfortable, like a bad feeling.

A blow to the forehead made him his before he saw Ginny badly who let out a funny laugh.

“In the Malfoy clouds?” her asked amusingly, moving his eyebrows amusingly.

“Mind your own business Weasley," he grunts back equally amused.

Hermione rolls her eyes, exchanges a funny look with Ginny, both knowing the girl's problem with Ron.

He admits, only to himself and probably to Ginny (who in some way he doesn't understand is his best friend) that he might, in some younger way, have had feelings for Hermione. Not only were they competing all the time, the girl was growing up and she was cute, of course adding that would have bothered his father, made everything very attractive. But when he became friends with them, it only took a second to see the interaction between Ron and Hermione to know that he didn't want to get into anything romantic between them.

The image of a long-haired, funny-smiling Hufflepuff girl momentarily surrounded his head.

“Hermione what you occupy is giving my brother a kiss (which is disgusting) and touching his buttock to make you happy” says Ginny shamelessly.

It takes no more than that comment for Draco to grab her by the neck and start running around the common room, with a red Hermione of shame as well as anger.

They end up on the floor laughing and their task forgotten.

Amidst the laughter, Draco cannot help but think that both of them and the rest of his friends they were a family that occupied.

♦♦♦

Draco loves his friends, although he must admit that being friends with Harry Potter has put him on the brink of death, many more times than he likes to admit. The idea of going to the magic ministry is stupid, he tries to convince him before doing such a stupid thing, but, although he doesn't succeed, he ends up accompanying them. It is when everything seems to be in chaos, when they find out that Sirus is alive, that the order is safe (secret that they trust him for being a kind of honorary Weasley) and the crazy Bellatrix who is somehow distant relative, pursues them both to Sirus and to him to kill them.

All the people with whom he shares blood are crazy, they decide in the end.

Sirus at first had this uncertainty about himself too, until he told he that he was in Gryffindor and seemed happy that he was not the only black sheep in the Black family.

He was not a Black.

Although his mother was.

Everything was confusing.

Although he admitted to being a fairly competent duelist, Bellatrix was crazy (there was nothing positive to say in that situation) and as little as he avoided that dark spell. Whimpered when her hand began to bleed, proving that it was not by chance.

“Lucius no doubt raised a useless” he snarled that woman with a dismissive tone.

He saw her rolling her eyes.

Unbelieving buffoon.

“You're crazy, demented and no doubt I'd rather spend my life with blood traitors than a lady who's a whore behind Voldemort” he shouted the first offensive words he came up with.

The Cruciatus was not long in coming.

How many times can a person endure so much pain?

From his blood family, for worse.

Whimpering when he fell backwards, before Sirus started a battle against her, but they were walking too close to the veil. Sirus, like Harry, had a strange suicidal tendency, he decided when even trembling, he should throw himself with Sirus to avoid a curse from Bellatrix so that he wouldn't fall in the middle of the veil.

He feels every bone in his body ache.

But he's alive, she surmises with irony.

“That bitch is crazy” murmurs before Sirus brings him by the neck so that both of them manage to dodge another attack.

“Boy!” calls Sirus over him, but his vision begins to blur, before he bites his lips and stands up shaking.

They must fight.

Stupid Potter thinks with irony, before following Sirus and Bellatrix's duel with barely open eyes, with a nimble spell he makes Bellatrix fall backwards, before feeling an attack from his back. Bites her teeth as she feels pain all over her body again.

This time he is knocked unconscious.

♦♦♦

When he opens his eyes again, a room he detects from St. Mungo’s receives him, and he is measured to get into his bed, feeling pain all over his body. He looks at his bandaged hands and feels pain in his back, but he is alive. Memories of the battle in the ministry haunt his mind and he cannot help but feel terrified. A war, they had not been many and he hardly thinks if they survive, but that only seemed a prelude, a prelude to imminent war. A sound distracts him and he is paralyzed when the curtain that separates his bed is opened and Molly Weasley appears on the other side, this incredulous whimpering wakes him up and wraps him in a hug.

He can't help but wonder when his real mother hugged him for the last time.

He also can't believe how stupid Ron is, to be jealous of Harry or him, when he has a family like this one.

“I'm glad you're awake, honey," she says with sincerity and tears in her eyes.

He doesn't move, not believing that anyone else is crying for him.

He smiles slightly, before everything turns to chaos in his room.

Ignoring the visit of all the Weasleys, including Sirus (he doesn't quite understand what has happened to set him free), Harry and Hermione, Ginny is the one who tells him the story. He had received several unforgivable curses, a cruciatus and another that has left a scar on her back, which like her hand, cannot be healed. He was unconscious for two weeks.

Ginny seems worried about himself, just as her mother cries when she sees him, Hermione hugs him in a protective way and cannot help feeling at home.

“YOU ARE ALIVE!” both twins shout with emotion, before shaking their hair.

He feels pain all over his body.

His head does not stop hammering.

He wants to sleep.

But he wouldn't change for anyone in the world.

♦♦♦

Snape never treats him badly, even though since he left his father they have hardly had any cordial contact, but that does not mean that he is any less concerned when he obtains the role of professor of defence against the dark arts in his sixth year. Harry, who has always hated his godfather, doesn't seem too thrilled about the affair either, because although Sirus is declared innocent, he doesn't have the power to uphold it or something stupid said Dumbledore. He tries to remind him that he will soon come of age, but Harry can be stubborn and prefers to ignore him.

The fact that Ginny spends all her time with her boyfriend also seems to put him in a bad mood.

Her four best friends are in love, but not together.

Bad luck.

He and Neville seem to jump between the two of them, trying to keep the issues from getting too sensitive.

“Dean is a pain in the ass, he's cute, but I can do things on my own” complains Ginny in the common room with an annoyed grimace.

He ignores her for reading his book.

Dean's subject is a sensitive one for both of them, not only does the boy seem to hate him since his first year, they also share the same room and he seems to hate him because Ginny declared that he is her best friend. Although he repeats a thousand times that he has no romantic feelings for the girl, her boyfriend always seems to see him out of the corner of his eye as a potential enemy.

Pathetic.

“You're only with him because you're with someone," he says before turning the page in the book on oclumacy.

Even though Snape doesn't treat him like he used to, he has given him that book in his fourth year, so he tries to study it. Sometimes after school in his fifth year, he would instruct him, he almost had the trick of doing it without difficulty.

He worried about why her godfather gave her that.

“Dean is cute and kisses well, but I like my space, yesterday I reproach myself because I spend a lot of time with you” she grumpy is carelessly settling in his lap.

He rolled his eyes.

“Because of things like this he is upset," he says without taking his eyes off the book or making her feel uncomfortable.

He's used to it, as a child Ginny was very loving and he was clearly a carrion for his family. Like a sister she never had, Ginny began to follow him when her brothers ignored her, laughing and telling her things, which he did not ignore for a fact.

She was the first one to speak to him.

The one who took him to the Weasley house.

She was family.

He owed her a lot.

Besides, her lively and cheerful personality, helped him when he was not feeling well. Because he had the fake family of now, sometimes he remembered that his parents had given up on him, that they were on the side of the dark lord and the scars on his body were witness to the fact that both had taken different paths.

“It's stupid, Harry and Ron found me last night making out with Dean and took on the role of big brother, they should be like you.”

“You know I'd protect your dignity too, but you'd throw a bat booger at me and not take my help.”

“Exactly, thank you for noticing.”

He sees her thinking it was no joke and she with her head in her lap puts on an innocent smile, making both of them laugh slightly. Distracted he puts a hand on Ginny's head and starts to massage her hair, she makes a sound that reminds him of a cat and thinks she is a brat.

“I feel offended that that book is more important than your best friend.”

“This book would beat you at anything.”

A whimper comes out of his mouth when it punches him in the face, with force the lance of his lap and this wheel on the ground. Both of them burst out laughing when she throws herself at him, in his lap, and seems to want to hang him, but he hardly resists.

A sound of annoyance distracts them, causing them to turn to their right where Ron and Harry are standing.

Draco reacts a second later, with Ginny on his legs too close to his body and face.

His forehead is shaded in blue.

“Now you're going out with Draco too," says Ron in an accusatory tone.

Bad idea.

Faster than a flash, Ginny casts a spell on him that throws him on his back. She seems to want to go and kill him, but not in play as with him, so he holds her by the waist preventing her from committing a murder.

“Draco is my best friend asshole, now I'll kill you” she says this in a sadistic tone.

He decides he prefers to be on the girl's good side, so he lets her go and it's Hermione who finally manages to stop her from committing murder. The worst thing decides Draco, is the look of complete hatred of Harry, who does not know when or how, it seems that finally he has feelings for Ginny.

He snorts underneath when Hermione yells at Ron that he is a fool and drags him into the library.

Now Ron sees him angry too.

He whines.

He doesn't do anything.

♦♦♦

He decides for his own mental (and physical) sake to stay away from his friends, until they solve their love problems with each other, he doesn't want to get caught in the crossfire. Therefore, in his free time, he prefers to be out reading some book, sometimes thinking that he could have stayed in Ravenclaw, although he still doesn't manage to beat Hermione in notes. New Year's resolution decides. It is an afternoon in the middle of a bench, when a shadow appears in front of him. He tries not to look surprised when he sees Camile in front of him with her usual friendly smile.

He's ignoring him as usual; she takes a seat next to him and starts to move his feet.

He gets tense.

He forgets that not only his friends have these romantic problems. The girl next to him kisses him in his fourth year at the yule ball, but after that she ignores him, sometimes she talks to him as if nothing happened and he is clearly confused.

Not only are Harry and Ron bad with girls.

He is too.

Shit.

He would never admit it out loud.

“You look at me with bulging eyes, it's funny” she says she's pointing at him shamelessly; she blushes and this one laughs “I'm not going to do anything to you that you don't want to” she adds with a flirty wink.

That bothers him too, those shameless flirtations, make him feel uncomfortable.

He looks at her out of the corner of his eye, noticing that her long hair is now a little more controlled and longer than before, that her face is starting to stop looking like a girl's and her body is becoming very beautiful. He hates the hormones inside him and that this girl is by his side.

Just like Ginny and Hermione this one seems to be at ease next to her.

But it is not the same.

Is different and he doesn't understand how.

“Of course,” he says in a boring way trying to control himself, this one sees him as a bit annoying.

“You know for a guy, you're not very good with girls," she says, as if reading her thoughts.

Draco blushes before seeing her with disbelief, curiously this seems to be serious as she almost never shows it because she is smiling.

“That's rude” grunts before returning to her book.

This snort.

“Rude is kissing a girl and never bringing it up” she points out with clear annoyance.

His blushing increases and he sees her angry, as she seems to take it easy and he is a sea of nerves at this moment.

“You kissed me first.”

“And then you.”

“You acted as if nothing had happened.”

“I'm a Draco girl, we like to see an interest in a boy and not do all the work.”

Both are upset and look angry, he does not understand what she wants and she seems to want to claim something from him. The girls are annoying, he decides in the middle of something that he does not understand, only it seems that she expected him to look for it and it is ridiculous because he.

Because he...

He looks away, ready to get up.

“You are a nuisance” mumble without knowing what else to say.

He had enough family problems to add this girl to his life, his friends are now in danger and he doesn't know how long before everything goes to shit. It takes studying, it takes being a better wizard to help them when the time comes.

He should go.

But when he sees the girl sideways, still sitting, almost looking downcast and with sore eyes, he curses himself internally.

Only once.

He says to himself when he sits down again. Camile opens her eyes in disbelief when now it's him who initiates the kiss, because just like Ginny's eyes, but in another way, he doesn't understand, and doesn't care, he can't see his sad eyes.

He is not a scum.

He is not her father.

They separate and he is embarrassed but internally happy to feel his pride back for initiating the kiss. She smiles in a way he has never seen before, softer and more sincere, which also reaches his brown eyes, which he now notices have flashes of other colours.

It is beautiful.

“You're annoying too," says this one with a slightly broken but funny voice.

Then, ignoring his previous thought, he kisses her again.

Shit.

♦♦♦

“Draco has a girlfriend and won't die a virgin” celebrates Ginny in the common room, making him snarl in annoyance and Hermione laughing by his side.

Neville has a funny smile at his side, which he wants to smash with one punch.

He was still a virgin.

But he wasn't going to make that clear out loud.

Ginny continues to hug him excited, saying that Camile was a sun for putting up with him, that he should not ruin him. Hermione commented on everything he had to do to be a good boyfriend, Neville seemed just as tortured as he was.

“At least now Harry and Ron will no longer see me as competition” he muses, making Neville nod in agreement.

Hermione and Ginny look confused.

He snorts.

Who's the blind man now?

Who would have thought that, of the group of friends, he is the first to get a steady girlfriend.

♦♦♦

Many things are happening before his eyes, war seems closer and closer and Dumbledore's death is the trigger. When the great wizard dies, he feels that, within him, the world is lost, when a powerful wizard could not help it, they definitely could not do anything. At the funeral he is sitting there with a lost look in his eyes, he wants to think that he has nothing to do with this place, but he knows what happens to his father and mother, the bad guys of history and how this war was getting closer and closer to breaking out.

He sees the sky in confusion.

Was this his destiny?

When the hat chose him at Gryffindor.

What was he thinking?

“Everything will change," muses Neville sitting next to him and he nods his head.

He sees his hand for a few seconds, feeling a little pain in the scar on it as in his back. He grinds his teeth knowing that somehow that hat decided his fate.

'A butterfly effects.'

Arthur called once.

On the way to where Harry was with Ron and Hermione, the three of them had made a choice and given him the opportunity to choose. When he arrived at them, his three friends saw him with big eyes with questions, they had given him a choice because they knew the situation of his biological family,

“I'm in” admits in a serious voice.

Hermione nods.

Ron sighs.

Harry looks at him with gratitude.

They are friends.

While they go off, the rest go to look after Hogwarts. He looks sideways at where Ginny is next to Neville, Luna, Hannah and Camile. Her best friend smiled slightly, knowing that this would also be a battleground next year.

Camile gives him a slight smile.

A part of him, decided, was an idiot for not talking to her before and taking advantage of the time a little more. By her side, he had been very warm and different, a different good in his life that he thought he wouldn't have. But now is not the time to back out.

♦♦♦

The search took a long time, both good and bad experiences passed. Since Ron left them, he felt lost at the thought of his parents behind all this, struggles and losses. When they arrive at the castle after a whole year away in the middle of death (which he jokes about all the time with Harry telling him that he is unlucky) and ready to start a war, he feels confused. In the middle of the fight where he attacks and protects, he wonders what would have happened if his life had been different, as in his dreams.

Maybe he would be on the other side of the battle and that destroys him.

Why the other side is wrong.

Voldemort is wrong.

That is why when the Selector Hat appears, almost at the same time as Voldemort's snake, when Harry's body appears. For the first time he understands why he is in Gryffindor, when the sword of his creator is held in his hand to kill the snake.

Ignoring his number of wounds.

Ignoring that his parents behind Voldemort see him in disbelief.

He makes his choice at that moment, it is not like before that he only accepts the fate that others chose for him, no, he decides his path and the sword shines in his hands. Voldemort seems angry with himself, but he couldn't care less.

He is not afraid of him.

Not after all he's been through.

And then Harry seems to come back from the dead.

Before he knows it the battle is over, but he doesn't feel well, he is tired, a heart-rending cry from someone, is also the sign of a series of dead to be picked up.

♦♦♦

That night he walks to his old bedroom, which is somewhat destroyed but stable. He throws himself on his bed, followed by Ron and Harry on theirs. Hermione ignores that it's not the girls' bed and remembers one that must have been Neville's, the four of them are exhausted, the battle has been over for a few hours, but there are many dead, much pain and much blood. He feels too tired to talk or say anything, he just wants to sleep all night, but he feels that he will have nightmares.

“I'm exhausted” says Hermione with her arms stretched out.

The thought of her bewitching her parents and sending them to Australia runs through her mind, they will have to go and get them soon, they had decided in the middle of their journey in moments of stress.

Where they were thinking about the end of the war.

Where they were optimistic.

“I'm hungry” mumbles Ron against the pillow.

Everyone laughs slightly.

“By the way, Potter, technically Ron made Hermione kiss him, so you owe me money," he says, sitting on his bed.

Harry laughs when Ron and Hermione turn red.

"Hermione kissed him so you owe me money” counter this scathing, but funny-looking one.

Maybe.

It has a point.

“You made me lose money Weasley, you owe me” he grunts at he with feigned annoyance and this one throws a pillow at he face.

The four of them laugh like kids and he throws himself back on the bed with a peaceful smile. But his smile fades slightly as he remembers the number of dead, especially that of one of the twins who hurts him to the core. A selfish part of her inner self has been happy to see Camile among the survivors, she herself had a terrible wound on her leg from a werewolf, but she only laughed saying that it was not that serious.

They would have to wait until the next new moon.

But she was alive.

That comforts him.

“Hey Draco", says Harry out of the blue, turns to see him confused and he smiles at him “I'm glad you're my friend” he talks a bit corny, but he understands.

Friendship is important.

It reminds him of how Sirus talks about his friendship with Harry's father and with Lupin.

“Don't get cheesy Potter, I have a girlfriend unlike a guy who got brave and left her” he comments funny and this one whines indignantly.

A move at his side, makes him see Hermione sitting next to him.

“I'm also glad you're my friend Draco, if I had a brother I'd be like you and Harry.”

“Yes, because if I were Ron I'd be incest.”

A pillow from Ron makes him laugh when he just pats his head, but he high-fives himself.

The four of them laugh, before the four of them end up in their bed, in a knot of hands and legs, sleeping together. Draco at that moment thinks about what his life could have been different, if he had been selected in another house, but when he feels Harry's elbow, when Ron snores or when Hermione babbles by his side.

He knows.

He wouldn't trade it for anything, this feeling of being filled.

And he hoped that, in a few years, everything would be just like this moment, the four friends.

The house of Gryffindor.

His house.

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kinetic-elaboration · 4 years ago

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April 25: 2x16 The Gamesters of Triskelion

Finally watched some more Star Trek. I feel like it’s been forever...

Today’s ep is The Gamesters of Triskelion, which is... okay. It’s not terrible but I think its best aspects are the most familiar: the type of alien, the moral values at play; and its weakest are its most unique.

I think Spock likes it when Kirk says “mind the store.” What a folksy human thing to say!

Plus now that he’s Captain he gets to sit in the chair.

This conversation between Spock and Scotty is hilarious. “I’m assuming you mean they disappeared in an unusual way??” “Uh, yeah?? Do you think I’m dumb?”

This alien looks like Lady Gaga c. 2010

Kirk is being very Dramatic today.

Come on, Spock, gotta get your man.

You know Spock is worried when he mentions hope. That is, as McCoy says, a human emotion.

“Collars of obedience.” Kinky.

Stylish pink jail.

I’m really feeling this Spock and Bones interaction today. That’s a great eyebrow lift.

If the random alien is leaving, Uhura must have been his ass down.

“Nourishment interval.” We need to bring this into our modern vocabulary.

Not one, but TWO ladies in command gold today (one at Communications, and one at Spock’s station).

Wild aquatic fowl.

I feel like this episode is another example of a writer putting her alien sex fantasy on television. Like, a hardcore alien sex fantasy. The obedience collars, the training harness, the whipping, the weird flirtation between Chekov and his “training thrall”--herself a very androgynous alien, just to throw some gender play in there.

Kirk turning up the charm again. I missed Charming!Kirk. I mean, picking up a silver platter to use as a mirror and saying “That’s beautiful”? This man has no shame.

I feel like this episode shows how Spock’s logic is actually a very effective life strategy. He’s facing a very mysterious situation with high stakes--literally his best friend/soulmate/captain lost, plus two more crewmen--but he isn’t defeatist like McCoy or defensive like Scotty. He just follows the evidence, even when the evidence seems wild. And he was right.

Detective Kirk time!

“Are they computers?” He’s hoping so, since he’s very good at defeating computerized enemies.

Could it be instead another example of aliens who have transcended their physical bodies?

He is really laying the charm offensive on thick here.

I get how people have vague memories of TOS and remember Kirk as slutty, because certainly there are lots of shots of him kissing ladies, but like... 90% of the time he's using charm as a weapon, like he doesn't like Lady Gaga, he just wants to get off this planet.

“Love, for one thing.” Time for Kirk to be a Romantic Nerd again. He sure does love love!!

See imo just as it’s ridiculous for him to limit love to being one of the most important things on Earth, since he barely even spends any time on Earth and his general thesis is about what all intelligent creatures can care about besides their basic needs being met by “Providers,” I think it’s silly to limit love to being between men and women. And just as he’s kinda lying about the Earth thing, I think he’s lying about the heterosexual thing.

People in love “live together, help each other, make each other happy.” I love his definitions of love!! Like with Edith, he center helping each other in the definition.

McCoy and Scotty think they can take on Spock lmao. The Captain’s life is at stake; he’s not fooling around. And he’s right too so y’all can shush!!

Honestly, that leaning down to talk quietly to them--I know it’s because he doesn’t want to say the word “mutiny” too loud where other people can hear him, but it really reads like he’s mocking them.

Shauhna is harassed at work.

Spock’s like ‘screw a landing party, I will retrieve my space husband by myself... and I guess McCoy can come too.’

McCoy’s voice was the one Kirk heard but he still calls out to Spock.

Mmm, yes, disembodied alien brains.

I like the painted background behind them, too. Which is apparently stolen from Devil in the Dark. S2 needs more painted backgrounds.

“You think YOU’RE competitive? A race that does nothing but gamble? Well you’ve never met humans lol.”

Since when has Kirk ever competed for a woman? Hardly a competition when he always wins.

“Fresh thrall” something so... ugh about that phrase.

Ah, yes, an Andorian.

I’m starting to feel like this is Spock’s Pre-Reform Vulcan Sex Fantasy.

I feel like Shauhna will eventually become the leader of the Triskellion people. My mom thinks it would be cool for Kirk to meet her again in the future. I feel like there’s a fanfic in there somewhere...

“I didn’t lie, I just...lied.”

Honestly, don’t bother leaving everything to these disembodied colorful brains, just take Shauhna with you and enlist her in Starfleet. Or at least, like, high school.

...And after all that she STILL has a crush on Kirk. The man is too powerful.

What, no return to the Enterprise? No Kirk appearing shirtless on the bridge? No everyone acknowledges that Spock was right the whole time? No awkward little joking time?

I guess perhaps Kirk is embarrassed.

So overall... again, B basically.

As far as commonly used tropes in Star Trek go, this one is actually one of my favorite ones. I like it more than “godlike man must be defeated” and probably even more than “computer runs society,” though not as much as “old Earth tech becomes sentient.” But generally speaking “aliens transcend corporeal bodies by becoming too smart” is a good trope and I like seeing the different spins on it: the Organians, who can choose corporeal bodies if they want and are incredibly peaceful; the aliens from Return to Tomorrow, who wish they still had bodies; the aliens from The Cage/The Menagerie, who do have bodies but can’t do much with them, who must rely on aliens they capture to do physical work on the planet’s surface for them; and these aliens, who are so bored they must rely on arbitrary wagers using enslaved aliens just to have something to do. There’s something sort of... sad but fitting about that fate. Understandable, awful, pathetic. Still, I wouldn’t call this my favorite take on the trope.

But the specifics of the story, outside the “brain-aliens trope,” I didn’t like so much. The BDSM kink stuff mixed in with like actual slavery made me super uncomfortable. I know it’s based on Ancient Rome but like... even though it was a clear bread and circuses situation, that was not what I was thinking of tbqh.

This is a good episode for showcasing Star Trek Values, which overall I would say are my values. I do see how some people today would criticize them for being a little... well. How to say it. Colonizer-savior. I completely disagree that this is the reading that should be given to them and in fact I think it’s a bad faith reading but people are the way they are and certain things are in vogue sometimes and not others, so. I just mean that when Kirk says that they (the Federation, one would assume) have helped other civilizations “progress” or whatever word he uses, it sounds a little like they came in and made alien societies better using their own values. But I would say that what we actually see, in specific examples throughout the series, is the Federation wanting the civilizations it interacts with to be free, in fact requiring members state to be free, and that is really the one value a free society can impose on others or require of others--choosing slavery or dominion is choosing to relinquish all future choices, and thus cannot be allowed by any society that values freedom. That catch-22 that we see so much now. So, my point is, I think the values Kirk epitomizes for the show are freedom, self-determination, and a certain conception of progress, too: the ability to grow and develop, the avoidance of stagnation. And certainly this episode shows a clear case: having everything provided for you in exchange for being the professional playthings of a bunch of disembodied brains is objectively bad! Surely we can all agree on that. But this obvious example is used as an excuse for Kirk to speechify on the topic of what a utopian future will look like, what the best of humans can be, and what the rest of the universe could be like if it learns from our best traits (and not our worst). Which is overall something I find very comforting.

I’d just been thinking, at the beginning of this episode, that I think S1 is a better Kirk season than S2. S2 has too many episodes that problematize his leadership or his heroism, or that barely even use him--even episodes like The Trouble With Tribbles that outright mischaracterize him imo. But this episode really was Classic Kirk and I appreciated that. We see him being charming, smart, selfless, strong, creative, romantic... coming in at the end to embody the utopian values of the series.

Spock was so well characterized and so smart and so heroic, too, that he kinda was the mvp for me, though... Don’t take away my Kirk stan card lol. Spock was just so In Command... You can see how he could become a captain later, even if being in command never really interested him much.

I don’t entirely get why Kirk bargained for the thralls to all stay and make their own government (or to be trained in self-governance by their enslavers... a whole different issue tbqh), given that it’s already been established that most/all of them have been kidnapped from other planets. Should they not be... returned?

And if most/all of them are 2nd or later generations, that’s a whole other complex issue that could perhaps use third party mediators or something...

I also wondered about Shahna's origins. Was she the descendant of another civilization that is native to the planet, or is it just that her people were kidnapped so much earlier that she herself, personally, has never lived anywhere else?

I think it both makes more sense and is a more fitting ending if it’s the first. It makes sense to me that the first peoples enslaved by the brains were natives of the planet: more convenient that way. Also, I think we need to see more alien planets with more than one humanoid or human-intelligence level species.

And, if her people are native to the planet, having them become leaders of their own right again and not just possessions of the glowing brains is more powerful. Otherwise it's kinda sad: yes, they can form their own government here, but they've still been robbed of their real history and their real homeland, which they don't even remember.

Also as my mom pointed out, it’s not clear the brains themselves are native to the planet. They could have been invaders--the last real thing they did before they started wagering fake money--and Shauhna’s people the natives.

I really did like Shahna a lot and I hope she becomes the leader of whatever government they set up and eventually does get to travel into space.

Imo this was one of those TOS eps where the potential back story and the hints of world building are more interesting than the actual story.

Also apparently the actor who played Galt was trying to walk in a gliding manner so it wouldn’t be clear what he was hiding under those robes and... I have to say, definitely wheels.

Next up is A Piece of the Action, one of my favorites. Great plot, great fun, great sci fi concept, great Kirk material!

#the year 2021 #2021: star trek #star trek tos #2021: fandom thoughts

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enthusiasticsobrietyabuse · 4 years ago

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Parent Manipulation Part 1 - Originally posted in 2005 OnTheEmmis.com, a Meehan Program Survivor Website and Discussion Forum. (ICECAP is the former incorporation of enthusiastic sobriety programs, it has since dissolved due to the effectiveness of OnTheEmmis.com)

Part of ICECAP’s selling point is just HOW unorthodox they are. Counselors are trained to peddle the ‘shock’ value of a non-traditional program. It makes sense to many parents, because they see the professional community pathetically limping in the dust of young drug addicts in America today. Then they see ICECAP. Within its walls are dozens of young souls who are just absolutely ecstatic about being there. Where else is this happening in the world of rehab? While I am sure these places exist, my experience has been that they are few and far between.

ICECAP milks that point to no end. On the surface, I can see it being very difficult to deny that any ICECAP facility is producing some kind of positive results. Desperate and nearly to the point of hopelessness, many parents are willing to cloud their better judgment for the sake of something…ANYTHING that will help their children recover from their current nightmares. To these parents, ICECAP is a godsend. They see something different…that is apparently working, and they submit to the fever of potential miracles.

Even the skeptical parent will have a hard time denying the lure of ICECAP. Eventually they become involved with the parent group, and there they meet average Joe Dad and Jane Mom, who are just like them and are saying all these wonderful things about ICECAP. All the red flags are carefully lowered and the cautious and suspicious parents are disarmed through a process that involves the meticulous coordination of staff/parent group/younger group/client and then finally parent…though not always in that order. They have an answer for everything…from the late nights and no school, to the smoking and irresponsible lifestyle. All the answers make sense and seem so logical…

If I may, I would like to take some (a lot of) posting space to poke some holes in this seemingly infallible construction of moral high ground and loving happiness that ICECAP claims to be delivering from.

To begin, ICECAP is in fact extremely attractive. Not just because of the reasons I pointed out above, but for many reasons. Walk down the hall and through the doors of an ICECAP meeting. What do you see? A bunch of cool guys wearing slick clothes, hot girls adorned in the latest fads that the mall has to offer, rock star counselors and smiling suburban parents. Wow.

What you don’t see is the ugly sight of a genuine crack head detoxing. You don’t see the sickness of heroin withdrawal, or the brutality of the world that real addiction and drug abuse/alcoholism has to reveal. Rarely, if ever, will you find in ICECAP the wild madness and insanity that drug addiction has to offer humanity. When these unfortunates do happen to stumble through ICECAP’s door, they almost invariably do not recover there. I know, because I have seen it, but more on that later.

I find it interesting that ICECAP targets white middle/upper middle class families almost exclusively. There is absolutely no effort by ICECAP to reach beyond this demographic at all. Why? When you think about it, wouldn’t someone who comes from the depraved background that Meehan claims to come from be at least slightly interested in helping those whose stories are more like his? How many ICECAP clients are repeated felons, heroin junkies, or murderers? Almost none of them are. In my opinion, this set up is the first element of being disarmed that a parent encounters.

What wealthy, or semi wealthy parent wants their kid in a place where a bunch of ex-violent criminals hang out at? My guess is that when presented with the ICECAP pitch, which at nearly every ICECAP facility includes the line about how they do not accept insurance; your average suburban upper tax-bracket parent takes a silent sigh of relief. If they don’t accept insurance, then they know that the place does not harbor certain ‘undesirables’, because those types of people would never be able to afford ICECAP treatment. In that there is a certain mutual agreement of ‘silence’ going on between the parent and ICECAP. ‘We won’t ask why this facility is full of white suburban kids as long as you keep my kid around safe white suburban kids’.

That would be fine except for one thing: the reason there are so many ‘attractive’ kids from well-off families in ICECAP is because ICECAP primarily does not target true drug addicts. If they did, you would certainly see more of those ‘ugly’ cases that I mentioned above. The truth is; ICECAP primarily targets kids who have quite commonly and naturally stumbled into experimentation with mind altering substances. Left to their own devices, I am of the opinion that most of the kids that become involved in ICECAP would have gone through their adolescence just fine, despite some dabbling in the drug and alcohol culture.

I realize that it may sound as though I am condoning the use of drugs and alcohol by adolescents to some extent. Believe me; I know there are kids out there, even particularly young ones; that need some sort of intervention and rehabilitation when it comes to drugs and alcohol. However, there are few of those kids in ICECAP.

To put what I am saying into perspective, let me share with you an experience I had when I was 15.

I was at a party full of teens from my high school. There were perhaps 50-60 kids at this get-together. Every one of them were drinking and/or smoking pot, many of them were participating in sexual activities, and every single one of them WANTED to and was trying to do all of the above. This was not a party exclusively for ‘dope fiends’ or ‘freaks’ or anything like that. Most of the kids at this shindig were truly just your average high school teens, and many of them were at an identical party just a week before. Many of them would be at an identical party the next week.

Tell me, what seems to make more sense to you: That EVERY ONE of these kids was in need of being yanked out of school and subjected to an outpatient rehabilitation facility, or that they were for the most part kids being kids? I can’t say that I’ve kept up with each of those teens at that party, but I find it really hard to believe that they are every one of them sitting in gutters right now with needles hanging out of their arms.

The truth is that almost NO PARENT likes the idea that THEIR kid is in fact one of those kids at that party. However unfortunate it may be, chances are your kid IS one of those kids. ICECAP knows this, and knows it well.

The truth is that as far as ICECAP is concerned, every single one of those kids at that party IS fit for and IN NEED of their $6,000 outpatient program.

Of the 50-60 kids that were at that particular party, each one of them has one of two kinds of parents that could potentially find themselves in an ICECAP intervention: The ‘worried sick and hopeless parent’, and the ‘clueless’ parent. ICECAP has a brilliant line for both of these types of encounters.

For the worried sick and hopeless parent, they are already full of fear; so that is one obstacle that the given ICECAP counselor does not have to overcome, and can proceed directly to its exploitation. After meeting for over an hour with their child, the counselor then asks the parent/parents to then sit down with him, without the child. They are usually first presented with the structure of ‘enthusiastic sobriety’, and then carefully guided through the counselor’s ‘diagnosis’ of the child, at which point the fear they walked in with is thoroughly taken advantage of. He tells them, ‘first of all, to what extent you THINK your child is using, you can safely double or triple that. Your son/daughter has been for quite some time falling into the pitfalls of a very attractive and powerful drug and alcohol counter culture. It is nearly impossible to wrench young people today from the grip of this diseased phenomenon once they are into it to the extent that your child is. I know this because…’ At which point the counselor shares a true or untrue account of his own experiences with drugs and the drug culture. By the time he is finished, thanks to all of that plus clever little catch-phrases such as ‘true, Billy/Jenny may not be shooting heroin today, but at his/her rate of progression, you can bet on that nightmare down the road’ the parent has gone from being terrified to utterly mortified. The hook has been cast at this point, and it is here that the counselor begins to discuss the ‘solution’.

A recap of how brilliantly ‘enthusiastic sobriety’ competes with this vaunted ‘counter culture’ is usually in order here, followed by a description of outpatient. Another testimony by the counselor involving his own experience with IOP is conveyed, and then the cost.

If the parent is reluctant, or can’t afford it, emotional blackmailing goes into overdrive here, and is perhaps the most insidious aspect of the ‘intervention’. The parent/parents is told in so many words that their son/daughter will DIE if they do not get the ‘intensive level’ of ‘necessary treatment’ that outpatient provides, that the support group alone cannot hope to accomplish.

If the parent continues to flounder after this underhanded attempt to ‘guilt’ them into paying for IOP, then the counselor will usually back down and explain that while he feels the support group (just meetings and functions) is at this point a ‘disservice’ to the child, if that is all they can do then that’s the route they’ll go. He convinces the parent to attend parent meetings and functions rigorously for at least 30 days (same commitment as the kid), and thanks them for their time.

None of this ends here, of course. After the parent has left, this is what a ‘good’ counselor does:

He offers the name of the parent to either the ‘parent coordinator’ or a trusted parent on steering committee. He tells them that he felt as though the kid really needed IOP, but Mom/Dad couldn’t afford it or was skeptical of the idea, and that he would like this ICECAP parent to ‘work on them’. As the ‘intervention’ parent continues to attend parent meetings, they are relentlessly pushed by other parents at the direction of the parent coordinator to figure out a way to get their son/daughter into IOP.

Meanwhile, the kid is going to meetings and being told by other kids that he/she should go into IOP…that it is the ‘coolest’, and you really get the ‘gnarly’ shit about the group in IOP. This will turn from innocent prodding to downright peer pressure very quickly, and eventually the kid is going home and asking, sometimes begging mom/dad to get them in IOP.

If by now the parent is still not willing to do the $6,000 dollar shuffle, what usually occurs is sad and much of what continues to anger me about ICECAP’s tactics. The counselor will keep tabs with the parent, keeping them updated and developing a ‘relationship’ with the parent. Often, this is what goes down: The kid feels so much pressure from both staff and peers to attend IOP that he/she will quickly realize (usually with the help of the counselor), the reasons why he/she cannot go. Kids aren’t stupid, and Billy knows that either mom doesn’t think his problem is serious enough, or she just isn’t willing to call up grandpa for the dough. So he goes out and gets high one night.

The counselor, of course is ALL OVER THIS ‘relapse’, and schedules an appointment immediately with the family. After 30 minutes of what pretty much amounts to ‘I told ya so’ from the counselor, the parent takes out a second mortgage or calls up grandpa or takes out a line of credit and coughs up the $6,000 for outpatient.

ICECAP staff would argue that these are merely ‘imperative measures’ to take in order to ‘help this kid get better’, to ‘save his/her life’. I argue that this is a carefully constructed sequence of manipulation to paint a false picture of a fairly normal kid as a ‘dope fiend’ in order to sucker well-off families out of six grand.

The ‘clueless’ parent is dealt with in almost the same way, except the counselor must first instill the fear into the parents who have ‘no idea’ that their kid is so ‘sucked in to the world of drug and alcohol abuse’.

I challenge anyone to tell me the story of the family who was told: ‘Your kid really doesn’t have much of an issue. He/she could probably be a bit wiser about what friends they choose, maybe come to some meetings and see a more positive lifestyle…but really they don’t need intensive treatment from us…’ by ICECAP.

The only instance that I can think of in the ten years I was involved with ICECAP, was that of a young man who convincingly conveyed to everyone that he truly was a non-abuser, and that he simply went to a meeting to see a friend. IOP was not pushed on to this kid or his family, but being on staff at the time, I can tell you that the idea to somehow worm this kid into treatment was definitely kicked around.

I went into this aspect of ICECAP as the first part to a series about the structure of ICECAP and its functions. The intent is to provide sound knowledge and information to potential or current clients of ICECAP. The reason I wanted to expose this particular area of ICECAP’s doctrine first is because I believe that there are more clients there who fall into this school of thought than any other. These are the kids who aren’t quite ‘non-abusers’ as ICECAP would like to call them, but certainly aren’t ‘dope fiends’ as ICECAP would have you believe.

Next I intend to focus on the consequences of these manipulative tactics. Where’s the harm? If they never are at one of those high school parties ever again and spend the next two to five years of their lives steeped in the principals of love, patience and understanding…then what’s so bad about it?

PLENTY.

To be continued…

#enthusiastic sobriety #bob meehan #meehan #clint stonebraker #enthusiastic sobriety abuse #breaking code silence #troubled teen industry #parents #tti #the insight program #the crossroads program #the pathway program #the cornerstone program #the full circle program #rehab #troubled teen

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davey-dammit · 5 years ago

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Fashion often changes in broad, pendulum-like swings, and this is a good example of the phenomenon. But while the question is deceptively simple, the answer is complex, because it involves explaining several social and historical convergences. Bear with me, if you will, and I hope all will become clear: In the early 70's, there came about, pretty abruptly, a strong visual backlash against the electric, high-chroma,"psychedelic" colour palette that was such an iconic feature of the late 60's hippie culture; in short, the style got old very fast. The reasons were multiple: America was now deep in a quagmire of war; thousands were being drafted and returning home in coffins, mere weeks after their induction; protesters were being beaten and jailed; every day, the newspapers (!) revealed our leaders to be ever more egregiously stupid crooks, liars and fools. Madness and anarchy seemed to lie around every corner. Somehow all that celebratory, fun, acid-saturated colour now seemed ... silly and self-indulgent. It became as inappropriate as wearing a "Smile" t-shirt to a schoolbus rollover. And all the gentle social upheaval and genial questioning of institutional values that those bright colours once cheekily promised? Well, they no longer carried much appeal. In fact, they seemed frightening - just more uncertainty and conflict, in already uncertain and conflicted times. People were suddenly in the visual mood for something more muted, contemplative and restrained. The faintly mournful "autumn" colour palette - dark orange, oxblood, copper, brown, harvest gold, avocado green - filled that need so well that, as you point out, it literally became symbolic of the decade. Perhaps simply because it reminded folks of a less complex time, when subtle, visually digestible, vegetable-based dyes coloured our surroundings, rather than incomprehensible, knock-your-eyes-out chemical pigments (whose colours were actually meant to approximate the livelier visual effects of a hallucinogenic experience!). Concurrently with the shift in colour preferences, smaller, meticulously repeated patterns once again began to appear on fabrics and wallpapers, as sharp stylistic counterpoint to the free-form, Yellow Submarine-esque, "supergraphic rainbow" visuals that had overwhelmed every available wall surface during the previous decade. Those autumn colours also thematically supported, and were cross-fertilized by, the decade's nascent "natural" movement. Still inspired by the lofty ideals of their older siblings' recently failed hippie paradigm, and boosted by the first vague stirrings of the modern ecology movement, '70s boomers forsook (at least temporarily) their parents' blatant consumerim, and instead embraced the generationally dormant, homespun handicrafts of their grandparents: macramé, crochet, bargello, weaving, leatherworking, cutting down old beer bottles into drinking glasses. The handicrafts they created and proudly decorated their homes with were mostly made from organic materials, so they just looked better when surrounded with earth-tone colours. Chromatic colour was out, because it detracted from the workmanship - which was, after all, what differentiated handmade-and-unique from factory-extruded and common. This attitudinal shift towards muted, "homemade" colour and texture, and away from slick, obviously industrial colours and finishes was, at least in part, probably a subconscious side-effect of the 70's generation's fast-growing resentment of both the politician-buying industrial complex, and its ongoing material support for a war they despised. (Yes, the war ended in '75, but resentments lingered.) It was, if you will, a form of protest, or boycott: a generation's tentative, somewhat pathetic attempt to re-exert control over their own visual destiny, and to wrest whatever tiny part of their environment they still could, away from the overbearing and apparently malignant industrial and commercial forces that were threatening to overwhelm them socially, financially and politically. At the same time as these colour and design changes took hold in home decor, people began gradually shifting their wardrobes back to natural wools and cottons. After a decade and a half of collecting increasingly slinky, shiny, uncomfortable, odiferous and obviously synthetic garments - which were themselves a pendulum-swing away from the ossified white-cotton-shirt, gray-flannel-suit ethos of the two decades following WWII, the fabric-choice pendulum was again swinging back. And in clothing, as in interior design, autumnal, natural colours were generally seen to be more complementary to natural materials than chromatic colours. That all being said (whew!), the prevalence of the autumnal palette wasn't really as all-encompasing as retro media like That 70's Show would have us believe. (Btw, what was up with the anachronistic, so-90's, industrial loft-tech, cheese-grater kitchen lights? Obvious clanger.) Designers frequently go kind of over-the-top when they try to recreate a period look, a generation or more later. Frankly, even Mad Men, though certainly very well researched, is visually a little overbearing in its representation of the period; after all, not everything in the Sixties was of the Sixties; some of it hailed from the Fifties and Forties, even the Thirties. Just as we still occasionally see an 80's wood panelled Buick land-shark station wagon in the Walmart parking lot, or a suitcase-sized VCR parked under a friend's tube TV, I long to see a cheap postwar suit on some poor agency schlub who supervises the steno pool. Instead, everybody wears Brooks Brothers. All the time. It is also instructive to realize that within any fashion era "look" you'd care to examine, competing visual ideas constantly jousted with one another for dominance. Visual style is a roiling river, not a still pond. Remember that the "natural, homespun" 70's were also the era that gave birth to platform boots for men, polyester lounge suits, "designer" jeans, disco, the New York Dolls, foil wallpaper, smoked glass coffee tables, naugahyde sofas, spherical stereo speakers, shag carpet, gold-veined mirror tiles, chrome overhead lamps, and pink Christmas trees; and may God forgive my generation for those particular stylistic trespasses. For further proof, take another look at Goodfellas, with an eye to the set decoration and costumes; it is a veritable omnibus of questionable 70's design. (And a showcase for some very clever designers!) Next instalment: why the theme colours of the late '50s and early '60s were red, pastel green, chrome yellow and teal, and why commercial printers suddenly stopped putting type into straight lines. Source: Lived through it all. Also, history of design in theatre school.

theartfulcodger (reddit post from 2014)

A really well thought out and interesting answer to the question “Does anyone really know why brown and orange were so popular in the 70s?”

#70s fashion #70s #70s style #retro 70s #observational insight #sociological take on 70s fashion

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malyceaduncastellan · 6 years ago

Text

Only Human

Well, at the end of the day, I’m still obsessed with Ethan and not satisfied with the amount of content we get (GIMME MORE PB) so… Another piece for our emotionally destroyed doc.

Written with Kaleo - Way Down We Go in musical background.

It was one of those days when Ethan felt particularly low without any special reason. No one was dead today, none of his patients, none of his colleages, not Banerji nor his dog. Yet, he was watching the city beneath his feet on the balcony of his apartment, sulking, giving into his fantasies, trying to dull the ache in his heart.

He scoffed, thinking about how much of a walking cliché he was right now. That tall broody black-haired man hovering darkily over a sleeping city made him think of another rich man who saved folks.

He felt something nudging his feet and wasn’t surprised to find Jenner, watching him with his puppy eyes, just like he did when he knew his human didn’t feel well.

Ethan sighed. He was pathetic. What wouldn’t he have given to be at the hospital right now, working to stop thinking. Or literally anywhere to keep his mind off his thoughts. He’d turn on the TV if he had wanted to watch anything, he’d read if he could actually be distracted by substranceless stories. He’d talk if he had someone to listen to. He’d make his dreams reality if he could. He’d make mistakes. He’d heal if he only knew what disease affected him. But nothing could make him do anything like that now.

His phone rang, and he closed his eyes, hoping the sound would fade to nothing if he just ignored it. When it hopelessly displayed this annoying music he hated so much he chose it specifically to be sure to pick up his phone fast, Ethan sighed for something like the tenth time before answering.

-Harper? Why’re you calling me at… Nearly 1 am? he said, trying to sound as casual as possible.

-Because I know you’re not sleeping. What took you so long? I called five time, I was ready to take my car and drive by your place to check if you were okay.

-Shower, he lied between his teeth.

-Geez, you’re taking royalty time to trim that beard of yours. Have you considered saving entirely or just letting it live? It would save you those missed calls.

-Harper, if you don’t have anything important to tell me, I suggest we end this one.

Silence suddenly surrounded him and he frowned, wondering if she had took him seriously. But then Harper spoke again, with her tone inherited for now months of service as his boss.

-Right. Sorry, I was just trying to lighten up the atmosphere because what I’ll be telling you is bound to angry you.

-You’ve decided to take down the intern competition when some only lately showed they were competent enough to integrate the team to hire an annoying doctor from who-knows-where Hospital?

-...Sometimes, I forget how snarky you can be. Harper sighed, then continued. No. I’m gladd you think it has been a good idea anyway.

-Hardly, but at least I’ll know just how insufferable the new addition to the diagnostic team will be.

-Actually, I want to talk to you about one of your interns.

Ethan rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

-If they say I’m “mean” or anything like this, tell them they’re not ready for being doctors and they should back off to Kindergarten teaching.

-I’ve actually recently got a report saying you’ve been relatively… friendly, lately.

-I made only three of them cry this week when you think about it.

-That’s not what I meant, Ethan.

-What did you mean then?

-Casey Valentine.

He fell silent for a moment, pondering Harper’s words. Friendly? When he repeatedly rejected her even when she didn’t come for him? When he was twice as hard on her just because he didn’t want to take risks in favoring her?

-What, I’m more friendly with the other interns than with Doctor Valentine? he said after a while.

-So you recognize you’re acting differently with her.

-She’s currently the best intern. She will probably integrate the team, she needs to understand what it will imply. So yes, I’m extra hard on her.

-You weren’t with Aurora.

-Because you would have been pestering me!

He heard Harper sigh on the other side of the phone.

-People don’t say you’ve been extra hard on her. Apparently she was crying and you comforted her, which you don’t do normally.

-That.

It was all he could say without getting angry. This had nothing to do with Casey. At least, not his feelings for her.

-Do you know somebody’s sabotaging her, Harper? he finally blurted out, unable to keep quiet any longer.

-What?

-During the last week, I’ve been supervising her patients. I checked if she took care of everything in their files and like magic, when she had to present it to Doctor Mirani, the files were incomplete or empty. And you know I’m not slacking off when I’m checking on those files. I was there to shut Mirani up while he was on his way to humiliate her in front of the other interns. By the way, your niece seemed very pleased by this development. Less when I stepped in saying those weren’t Doctor Valentine’s files since I had those checked.

-... I didn’t know any of that. But does that have to do with you cheering her up?

-I wasn’t cheering her up, Harper. You know that’s not my type.

-No? From what I have, you were kind of cozy.

-She explained to me that this was relatively recurrent lately. I merely told her that this wouldn’t affect her ranking since I knew first-hand that it obviously wasn’t her doing. Someone turned off her pager, Harper, this isn’t small matter. People could have died.

Ethan felt anger building up inside him when he told everything to Harper. He couldn’t stand that sort of competition. Casey was kind. Incredibly so. Humorous, always smiling, hardworking. All the more reasons to love her, for him. He quickly put those thoughts aside, focusing on whoever was able to put her in that position.

-So you swear there’s nothing personal between the two of you?

-Is that a personal or a professional question? Nothing between us, Doctor Emery.

He was making sure of it. And it hurt so bad it was going to kill him. But better that than to kill all of her hopes, her dreams, her future.

-But you love her.

He didn’t stay silent for long.

-Again, is that personal or professional? She reminds me of myself is all.

-Last time I checked, she wasn’t brooding nor insulting anyone when deemed incompetent but... I see.

-Are you finished?

-... I am. Good night, Ethan.

He didn’t answer and simply clicked the red button on his phone, seriously considering that maybe throwing it out of the window would be a good idea. Instead, he let his fingers run on the screen, calling a number he could dial by heart now.

-I hope you have a good reason for waking me up.

-Casey, Harper know about the sabotaging.

Casey yawned and Ethan couldn’t suppress a laugh.

-Do me one better than that. Please.

Her voice had faded to a whisper on the last word and Ethan felt anger ripping him apart once again. He would have been angry to anyone for sabotaging other interns, but hearing Casey of all people with that much hurt in her voice?

God, he had it bad.

-Doctor Ramsey?

-Ethan.

Suddenly sounding more awake than ever, Casey answered with worry in her voice.

-What is going on?

-I…

All of his loneliness, his grumpy mood, his dark thoughts came back all at once when he tried to tell her. To tell her what actually? Nothing he wanted to tell her was… good. Nothing was supposed to be told. Nothing was appropriate. He shouldn’t have been doing this even, calling her in the middle of the night.

Yet here he was.

-Ethan…

Her voice was soft. Agonizingly soft, music to his ears, soothing his tortured mind.

-I need you.

It was all he managed to say before ending the call without even a goodbye. He was so screwed.

He didn’t know how long he stayed there, head bent, eyes closed, listening to absolutely nothing and just reminding again how much of a pitiful human he was. A hopeless man who had everything except what he really wanted at the moment.

When he felt two arms wrapping around him, he barely reacted, as if he hadn’t even noticed. What woke him up was Casey’s voice whispering his name. How did she even enter.

-Your door was open. I… God you had me worried.

She had her nose buried in his back and Ethan could tell the young woman was trembling. He caught her hand in his fists with the intention of pushing her away, but when he turned and he found her, tired, exhausted even, worry painting her usually so bright eyes, not only did he feel even more pathetic but he knew he couldn’t let go.

-What do you need me for, Ethan?

He stayed silent, considering her for a moment. He didn’t even realise how he had suddenly pushed her against him, her head resting on his shoulder while he buried his face in her neck. Her smell surely made his heart beat a whole lot faster, but he hadn’t felt so calm in a while and he even shivered when she enveloped his frame.

-Stay.

If he said anything more he knew it wouldn’t be pretty. She simply nodded and soon enough they fell on his couch, snuggling into each other’s warmth.

For Ethan it felt like he clang to life itself. This was wrong. He wasn’t supposed to and he damned himself for how weak he was, damning Casey and her pretty face.

He had stopped believing in God for a long time, but when he saw her he began to think maybe she was a miracle. His forbidden little fragment of peace.

Hell damned him, who was Ethan Ramsey, mere human, to resist an angel?

#open heart #open heart choices #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc

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youwillobcy · 6 years ago

Note

✉️ – a goodbye note / ✉️ – a hurt note / ✉️ – an apology note

NOTE STARTERS || SELECTIVELY ACCEPTING.

( under the cut because this is so fucking loNG. )

✉️ – an apology note

DEAR EUGENE,

What I did yesterday – I know it went too far. Calling you “rag boy” was too much, made me no better than those bottom-feeding barnacle heads who tortured us every day. I shouldn’t sink that low, ever, even if you robbed me of that formula we BOTH worked on. Maybe blaming you for that old coot getting poisoned was going too far, too. But even after everything, even after you humiliated me in front of everybody, and took credit for OUR recipe, I still want to be friends.

It’s pathetic, but You’re my only friend. I still remember how you spent your first-ever coin on me, and how you stood up for me when I was spat on, when I got squished day after day. I can’t really imagine life without you I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t there to stick up for me. And for what it’s worth, I still want to be there for you. I still want to work together, and open up that restaurant we always dreamed about, with the formula you somehow managed to improve. You don’t even have to show it to me, even though it’s technically mine, too.

I guess what I’m trying to say is: I’m sorry. I’m sorry for calling you rag boy, and for blaming you, and for being a jerk.

[A disappointed sigh followed, the microscopic organism holding up the letter he’d written out to eye all of his mistakes. This thing was full of them…in fact, it was entirely composed of sentimental drivel that he didn’t care for. While he wanted to apologize, this might be a more pathetic way of going about it than he’d intended – maybe he’d be better off just tossing it out.]

✉️ – a goodbye note

EUGENE,

I’ll admit this much: it was fun while it lasted. Back when we were kids, I mean. You always had my back, I had yours, and we used to plot our revenge against those sniveling bottom-feeders together. We were going to have it all – the admiration of our peers, the domination of the whole school, the WORLD!! But we blew it, all because of that stupid formula.

Sometimes I think back and I want to make up for everything. I wanted to talk to you again. After we realized we were going to the same school, and we started helping each other out, I was going to talk to you. Eventually. I couldn’t get over what happened back then. That formula was ours, Eugene – we made it together. We put our blood, sweat, and tears into that recipe, and you just tore it apart! You kept that wretched formula for yourself and left me to rot! But I wanted to be friends again - make up for it - talk to you anyway.

And I was going to. Today, actually. But then they congratulated you over the intercom – Krabs is going into the NAVY. SALUTE HIM. RESPECT HIM. Remind him how IMPORTANT he is because he won’t be around any longer! You ran off the second school got out. You didn’t see me trying to catch up to you. Guess I’m too tiny for ANYONE, even YOU, to notice, huh? That doesn’t matter, though. This letter is just here to say GOOD RIDDANCE.

I thought you were going to skyrocket in popularity after your patties were a success at school, but you seemed just as miserable as I was, every single day. The other kids still bullied you. That’s why I tried to help where I could – revenge and all. I even patched up that pathetic excuse for a science fair project for you – papier-mâché volcanoes are such a cliche, Eugene. But now you’re getting it ALL, aren’t you? I saw how thrilled you were to get out of there. Good for you. You must be positively giddy abandoning me all over again. Seems to be a running theme in our lives, huh?

[Plankton had decided, at some point after the news broke, to attempt to write a letter to his old friend – perhaps a written attempt at repairing things, as opposed to doing it in person – but his residual feelings of self-pity and abhorrence were seeping through every word. Was it worth it? Absolutely not – groaning in exasperation, the copepod tore the letter to shreds. So much for that endeavor. He hoped to never see Krabs’ face again.]

✉️ – a hurt note

KRABS,

Today got me thinking. I’m not the type to be affected by sentimental swill like that, but reminiscing on our childhood brought back…a lot of memories, from back in the day. The way we used to stick up for each other – I remember when you used to keep those barnacle heads from stepping all over me. Now you do it all the time. I guess now you’ve turned into the bullies we wanted to destroy back in the day – at least, I certainly wanted to destroy them. Can you imagine pointing a death ray in their direction now? HAH, I’d like to see them quiver in their boots!

That aside, it is ironic, huh? We’ve gone from being tortured together to torturing each other. Back in the day, all I did was call you “rag boy” after our fight – and now I’m paying for it every day of my miserable life. You became all we ever wanted to be, and I’m just left behind in the dust, with the only part of OUR recipe that you left me with. You stomp on me, throw me out by my antennae, and I barely ever get to return the favor. It’s not fair! You get the popularity you always wanted, and I get nothing – what good is a rivalry when it isn’t even!? I can’t compete!

And I’ll never be able to, will I? Not with your BELOVED recipe still in your hands…

[What was perhaps intended to be a somewhat apologetic letter instead became a resentful mess – there were occasions when he yearned for the good old days, but they could never reach that point in their friendship again. It was pointless to assume otherwise, like that foolish crustacean apparently had when he broke down in tears earlier, after spilling the guts about their origins. How pathetic! Letting his guard down in front of the copepod like that was a mistake…]

@fishingformoncy

#fishingformoncy #{ you can see like 3 diff phases of his life here. amazing }#{ i put them in order so like...the first is kid; the second is high school; the third is adult (after friend or foe) }#{ also lmao only we're gonna understand the second one god. }#{ note: imagine the strikethroughs as lines that were furiously scribbled out n you'll get the aesthetic i was goin for }

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thenovelartist · 6 years ago

Text

Green-Card Engagement, Part 3

After much demand, here's part 3 ;)

Pt 1 Pt 2

~ AO3 ~ FanFiction ~ Support me on Ko-Fi ~

Within the last month, after Marinette had seemingly bolted to her room crying for no reason, their little relationship deteriorated rapidly. Adrien hated it. Hated Marinette clamming up as she was and keeping quiet and even avoiding him at times.

It stung so bad. This was the girl that, frankly, he loved more than anything. Than anyone. She was the one person he could trust day in and day out. She was his soft spot to land after a crappy day. She was safety away from his father and all the fan girls and the fashion world, all three of which wanted their way with him.

And she… she had just wanted him.

He missed that.

“Adrien.”

He looked up from where he’d been staring a hole into his paperwork to see Nathalie standing there. What scared him most was the fact she almost wore a bit of pity on her stoic expression. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Unfortunately, we have an emergency at the photoshoot in Spain. One of the male models was injured due to an unfortunate fall. Your father was hoping to convince you to take his place.”

Adrien sighed and rubbed his eyes. He hated modeling. Tried to avoid it whenever possible. It just brought on too much of a headache. However, the photoshoot had already gone two days over, and the deadline to submit those photos was fast approaching. “I’ll do it.”

Nathalie sighed, relieved. “Thank you, Adrien. We’ll have you on the first plane tomorrow. I’ll send you the information as soon as possible.” With that, she turned and marched off.

Adrien sighed, shoving his face into his hands. Now, to tell Marinette he’d be gone for a couple days. He didn’t know if this was a good or a bad thing, but he hoped that maybe a little space would do her well. At the very least, it would give him a bit of space to plan the very serious but unfortunately necessary conversation he needed to have with her when he returned.

…

It was lonely with him here, but Marinette was quickly learning that it was lonelier with him gone. He’d been gone just over a day, and she was missing him. She was hunched over the counter, staring at her phone, a message loaded but not yet sent out. Hope everything is going well for you. Call me when you can. I want to hear all about your day :)

And that was after she edited it, deleting all the I miss you’s and anything else that sounded too… relationship-y.

Because they weren’t in a relationship, even though Marinette wanted to be.

A knock came from the door, and Marinette perked up. She hadn’t been expecting anyone. She opened the door.

“Nathalie,” she greeted in surprise. “What brings you?”

Nathalie held out a stack of papers. “I’m sorry to do this, but you’ve been served.”

Marinette’s brow furrowed as she took the stack of papers. And that’s when she saw it: divorce.

Adrien wanted to divorce her.

Her heart raced and the world was crumbling out from under her and she was left feeling numb.

Slowly, she shut the door, not even able to process how rude it was as she locked it behind her.

She bit her lip, holding it in as she walked to her bedroom. But the moment she shut herself in, the floodgates opened, and she sank to the floor. And sobbed.

…

Adrien was so thankful that they were able to wrap up the set quickly. The camera man was happy to “finally have a competent professional on set.” Adrien was simply happy that they got the shots they needed to finish the set so he could head home.

He was nervous about the speech he had mentally prepared. One that would reveal that he loved her and actually wanted to become a married couple. He was willing to work on whatever needed to be worked on to make that happen. He wasn’t foolishly optimistic enough to think she’d fall into his arms and say “I love you too, darling,” but he was hoping that it would end with her wanting to give him a chance and step out on a limb with him into a true relationship.

On the flip side, he knew they could fall apart just as fast. She wouldn’t chuck the ring at him, but heaven help him, if she returned the ring and the word ‘divorce’ dropped from her lips, he’d probably end up in tears with a shattered heart he would never care to fix.

He could only hope that wasn’t what would happen.

He opened the door, expecting to see Marinette in the kitchen at this time, but he didn’t. Heck, he didn’t even smell anything cooking. He glanced at his watch again, checking the time. Considering it was close to their normal dinner time, the time he had said he’d be home by, it was shocking to see Marinette not in the kitchen. Not when she loved cooking.

“Marinette?” he called into the apartment. “I’m home.”

Still no answer.

Slowly growing worried, he shut the door behind him and dropped his suitcase by the door. “Marinette?”

And that’s when she came out of her room. It took a second to register that her eyes were blood-shot red and that there were tear trails on her cheeks.

He didn’t hesitate to rush up to her, only to be stopped when she took a step back.

His heart sank. “Marinette?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, her voice broken and weak.

His brow furrowed, but his heart raced nervously. “Tell you what?”

She shook her head. “If you regretted being married to me, then why didn’t you tell me?” she said. “Instead you have me served while you’re out?”

Now, he was completely lost. “What do you mean ‘served’?”

She held out the crumpled papers she was clutching tightly. “You could have told me you wanted a divorce,” she said, her voice whispery and weak.

His eyes widened as he snatched the papers from her hands and glanced them over. Divorce stuck out and had his heart pounding like a drum, causing the world to blur out. Finally, he found his tongue. “Who gave this to you?”

She refused to answer, refused to look at him. Her head was turned toward the floor and her arms were crossed. She sniffed and dabbed her nose just as more tears fell from her cheeks.

Adrien dropped the papers and reached for her hands. But she shrunk back and angled herself away from him. “Marinette,” he said softly, getting onto his knees to attempt to put himself in her line of sight. She shut her eyes instead.

“I lo… I care for you, Adrien,” she said, her eyes still shut. “You’re my best friend and I thought… I thought we could make this work.” She sniffed once again. “But apparently, this can’t even be a mutual agreement.”

“Marinette,” Adrien said, shuffling closer to her and reaching for her hands again. Considering they were crossed tightly to his chest, the most he could do was put his hands on her elbows. “I would never. I hoped you’d know me better than that—”

“I feel like I hardly know you anymore,” she countered. “You’ve been so distant and working late—”

“I thought you wanted to be alone because you were never happy with me here.”

“I was happy with you here.”

“I didn’t know,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I really didn’t know. Otherwise, I would have stayed.”

And that’s when she finally, finally looked at him.

“I think…” he began, “We need to sit down and have a heart to heart.”

She sniffed before nodding. “Okay.”

…

He got her a box of tissues and sat her down on the couch. He then pulled out a blanket—her favorite blanket—and wrapped it over her shoulders, holding it there before taking a seat beside her on the couch. And then he cradled her face and wiped her cheeks free of tears.

She leaned into his touch, letting her eyes drift shut. She’d craved it so much. If he was giving, she would take. Even if it broke her heart in the end.

After a long moment, she realized he never let her go. Her eyes fluttered open again to see him there, still there and holding her and looking at her with concern and worry.

“Marinette,” he said. “I think that this proves I really can’t not be truthful with you any longer.”

She sniffed, knowing that she couldn’t not be truthful with him either. “I want a marriage, Adrien,” she blurted out. “A happy marriage and a family with kids running around like they did in that movie and…” The tears choked her up again before she could continue.

He shifted close before pulling her against him. She pressed her face into his shoulder and cried. Sobs wracked her body as tears poured out of her. And he was patient and held her in his arms against his side as he waited for her to calm.

“The movie,” he mumbled once her tears had subsided. “The one that had you running away and crying.”

She nodded, then took a deep breath. “Adrien, let’s face it: we’re roommates,” she said, her voice so weak she felt pathetic. “And roommates don’t have kids together.”

He sighed, then wrapped her up in his arms and pulled her fully into his lap.

And she was so weak and needy for attention—his affection—that she crawled into his lap without a fuss. Imminent heartbreak be damned, she wanted him to hold her for as long as possible. For as long as this fairytale lasted.

Which she doubted was much longer.

They were silent for a while, Adrien snuggling her tightly against his chest in that tender way she loved so much. His looks could draw many a woman, but if they knew his heart, he’d have all of Paris seeking his affections. Which was why she felt so honored to know what was back behind the barbed wire and stone walls and constant hesitation and fear. This man wasn’t just her best friend; he meant the world to her.

“So you ran,” he said, his voice worn and tired, “because with this arrangement, you knew you were never going to have that.”

“It’s my dream, Adrien,” she said. “I never told you, but yes, I want a family. I want kids. I want to be a mom.”

“And I took that away from you.”

She sniffed and nodded. But slowly, her mind actually began thinking. “But I don’t want a ‘friends with benefits’ type thing,” she began.

“I know,” he assured. “You’re the type of woman who wants—no, deserves a loving, doting husband and happy marriage.”

She settled her head into his shoulder and gave a nod.

“And I want to be that.”

She may have gotten whiplash from how fast she pushed away from him to look him in the eye.

He never let her go so she couldn’t crawl away from him. Not that she particularly wanted to. “Marinette, to be completely honest, the reason I proposed marriage was because… I was clingy. I just couldn’t wrap my head around you leaving, even for a year. I see how ridiculous that is now, but… I still don’t regret it because I get to see you all the time and I love being around you. You’re the one person in my life I’ve ever wanted to consistently stay around. Even before we married, I never liked when you’d have to leave from a pizza night or a gaming marathon weekend. And then, when I proposed because I was needy and didn’t want you to leave, I can’t begin to tell you how excited I was that you agreed.” He took a steadying breath, calming down from his clear excitement. “I know I’m a mess and I know that this, what we’re in, is a mess, but I want to work at this. I want you to be my wife. I do. I love you, Marinette. I never thought I’d be saying any of this, but I love you and I want you here to stay with me.”

Marinette had to blink several times. “Y… you…?”

“Want to make this work,” he finished decisively. “And I know I’ve been doing a bad job at making this work. And I’m sorry. It’s… it’s not like just having you here all the time. It’s more than that and I was an idiot but…” he sighed, hanging his head in shame. “I was so blind but I still want this to work because I still care about you more than I ever thought possible.”

She swallowed, begging words to come. “And I care for you,” she said. “A lot. I really… I lo…” she bit her lip, hesitant to say those words. But, she knew he needed to hear them. “I love you, too.”

He positively lit up like a sunrise. His smile was wide, and there was a twinkle in his eyes, and he just looked so happy. She loved seeing him like this. Loved seeing the man who wasn’t beaten down by the world and people. Most of all, she loved that she was the one who got to see it.

Maybe that made her a little more selfish than she would like to be, but frankly, she just couldn’t bring herself to care.

“Then can we start working on this?” Adrien asked, tightening his hold on her. “Making this work?”

Marinette nodded, smiling all the while. “I think the first thing we need to work on is communication.”

“What we’re doing right now?”

Marinette nodded. “Let’s keep doing that so we don’t have another ‘almost divorce’ disaster.”

Adrien’s smile slowly faded. “Who gave that to you?” he asked. “Who told you I wanted to divorce you?”

Marinette bit her lip.

Adrien simply waited.

She sighed. “Nathalie,” she whispered.

Adrien stiffened. “Nathalie?”

Marinette nodded.

There was a tense moment of silence before Adrien growled, squeezing her tight. “I’ll have to have a talk with her,” he mumbled. “Tomorrow. After I throw the papers back at her.”

Marinette smiled at that.

They stayed curled up a while longer, his chin resting on top of her head that rested against his chest. She would have been perfectly content like that all night had Adrien’s stomach not growled in hunger.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m kinda hungry.”

“I’ll make dinner.”

Spaghetti was easy and generally quick. She tossed some bread with butter and topped with garlic and cheese in the oven, and they called that good for tonight. She wasn’t up to making anything too fancy.

After dinner, one filled with tentative teasing and a little flirting, it was time to head off to bed.

Only Adrien stopped her before she could slip into her room.

“At the risk,” he began hesitantly, “of sounding way too forward, can I ask that we share a bed tonight?”

Her heart suddenly started pounding and heat flared up in her cheeks.

“Not for, you know, sleeping together,” Adrien assured. “Just snuggles and bedsharing.”

Snuggles and bedsharing. A shy smile found its way to her face. “Okay,” she agreed, liking the way that sounded. “Yeah. Your room or mine?”

“Either or.”

In the end, they parted to their own rooms to get ready for bed before Marinette slipped into his room. Adrien greeted her with a smile and a dramatically outstretched hand as he lay on the bed. She swore that sometimes he was nothing more than a big child.

“Why do I like you?” she teased, grabbing his outstretched hand and letting him pull her into bed. He tugged her close, pulling her right against his chest and looping a protective arm over her.

Oh. She thought, letting her eyes drift closed as she snuggled against him. This is why.

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #adrienette #fluffy #Fluff and angst #a tinge of angst #it's over really quickly #but these two dorks are so cute

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true-intha-blu · 6 years ago

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A Fragment of a Fragment; a Vanitas and Sora fanfic. Chapter 2

Ventus sleeps peacefully in Sora's heart, but he was not the only one who found himself there. And the other was awake. A darkness now crept in the young boy's heart, wishing to bend the precious light to fulfill his own need for a whole heart. And thus, it is not Ventus who influences the boy we once knew, Vanitas shall shape his and Sora's destiny now.

Tis I back on this new chapter. Chapters will not release this soon. I am just slowly getting momentum turned up. The actual plot plot of KH1 will start after a few more chapters. First establishing how Vanitas is and I love establishing pre game young destiny trio. So please be ready for slow starts.

This will contain spoilers for Kingdom Hearts: Birth By Sleep, and we'll work our way up. Disclaimer: Square Enix Characters belong to Square Enix. And Disney Characters belong to Disney. Nothing belongs to me.

A Fragment of a Fragment Normal Kid Chapter 2

A scattered memory is like a far off dream.

A far off dream is like a scattered memory.

Was this dreaming? It did not feel like a dream... but to a person who has never dreamed, it was the next best thing.

Like a dream, they were not related to him. Like a dream, they were separated from what he knew. However, the dreams were in fact not dreams.

Passing memories, both strong and faded flowed like mist over Vanitas as he slept.

The boy Sora had a small simple life. Four years old.

He liked to go out fishing with his father, watching how the older man used nets and fishing spears to gather the fodder of the sea, and watching his mother cook. He liked to run and jump around the trees despite the scratches and bruises. He liked to scribble stuff on paper, especially crowns, swords and stars that glimmered in the night. Sora enjoyed hanging out with his best friend Riku, though they competed like rivals. The kid loved the beach and sea and sky. He believed in Santa Claus. He thought monsters were cool. His biggest dream was being a hero!

He was nothing extraordinary. An average kid. No important lineage, no remarkable qualities or traits. A bit outgoing, but that was it.

On the outside, and somewhat on the inside, he was a completely normal kid.

And yet...

Sora called out to Vanitas and Ventus, across the worlds. Sora, who must've held such a strong sense of self as to be able to manifest it as a drive, albeit a small one. A boy who often felt himself staring at the stars in longing. As though waiting for something, or someone.

Vanitas came to know this. The boy's heart brimmed with light, and it was second nature for him to follow it, to latch on to any source of positivity and make his own when he could.

It was so bright, and so... naive... Possibly worse than Ventus!

...

It was still better than anything else.

That the half a heart could actually stay here and not fight for a sliver of something positive. Something good.

Even if none of these warm memories or hopeful joy was Vanitas'; being a fragment of a fragment, he'll take anything. He was tired of always being denied. Tired of always fighting for a heart! Tired of everyone else.

Sometimes, Vanitas wandered. Awoken from this strange slumber akin to feeling underwater, but lighter than that. His mind would be sluggish, but aware at least. Sometimes he would leave that little dark shack and drift into that bright light of the beach. Though it changed, at times the sun hung just above the horizon. Other times the stars and moon illuminated the place just as brightly as the sun. The sunrises were also just as grand. Each with its own feeling of something positive. Everything that Vanitas ever lacked in his life.

Yet still, that empty feeling remained. Hollow. Just like his name...

Other times on the beach, Vanitas saw faint images of boys and other kids running down, before quickly fading out.

Sometimes adults. They were like phantoms that passed by Vanitas unaware.

Other times he delved into the dive, where the more deeper remnants of the heart manifested. The memories, permanently reflected in the mirrors, chained together throughout the fog.

Vanitas roamed this heart, learning how to navigate it. Progress was slow, but he was learning.

Bit by Bit by Bit.

The light was always constant in this heart

It was different from Ventus'. It was less...Vanitas didn't know how to put it...Less self-pitying, less vague, flighty.

On the other hand, Vanitas could detect Ventus' light slowly intermingling with the boys.

And for the darker half, that just wouldn't do.

A certain event awoke Vanitas. It was during small brief stints earlier that were more akin to sleepwalking that the Dark fragment found a way to peer in on the outside world through Sora's eyes.

The boy's tiny shards of darkness beckoned the fragment, drawing him toward the dive into the heart. Upon the glass platform, Vanitas watched as Sora was arguing with the other boy, Riku.

Apparently, it was about whose fault it was that they lost the game. Riku believed Sora was distracted during the game, and Sora was denying, albeit with stuttering insistence. Who was right, Vanitas did not care.

Riku had a confidence that Sora lacked. Sora followed Riku, that was always the natural way of things. Riku was the leader, and Sora listened and admired his friend. For better, or for worse.

Already, Sora knew that Riku was better than him in nearly all things. Fishing, wooden sword fighting, racing, or anything else.

It reminded Vanitas about Ventus and... someone.

Particularly, Riku reminded Vanitas of... Well, no name and face in particular, but someone similar. A confident person who was used to being the best. Used to being looked up to, and yet foolishly heralded towards any sort of power they could grab in a desperate attempt to prove himself. Stubborn and proud. Those who were used to being worshiped and praised by those younger than them, yet crumpled as soon as the status quo began to change.

Fools that could easily be turned into vessels. There was something else about that boy. He couldn't put his finger on it... Not yet anyway.

What he did know, is that he didn't like Riku.

And Sora was acting just as weak as his lighter half. He would not allow the heart he resided in to be weak. To crumple. Whether or not Sora was a kid, did not matter to Vanitas. He despised weakness. As he was never allowed to be weak. To have things go his way for once... well... Vanitas was nothing if not resourceful.

His disdain emitted into words. "C'mon! Don't be like Ventus!" Vanitas said this as his own anger compelled him to lash out somehow. "Get mad! Don't let this guy push you around like some wimp!"

...

It looked like Sora was ducking his head. Trying not to show his falling face and the weight of what seemed to be his fault.

Pathetic.

Before Vanitas could even turn away in disgust he felt a change. A familiar sensation. Those tiny shards of darkness, nigh invisible, began to shine.

"STOP BLAMING ME RIKU! You always do this when we lose!" He heard the voice of Sora echo. He sounded a bit angry for a little kid. "I did my best! Even losing, I did MY best!" It seemed like a struggle for Sora. "LEAVE ME ALONE!"

An angry huffing noise followed along with a different voice calling the boys name.

What happened?

Vanitas' eyes gleamed at the possibilities of what exactly this meant.

Did... did the kid... hear him?

No. It was impossible for him to speak directly to Sora. Otherwise, Sora would have been shocked to hear a voice from his heart instead of responding like that.

Behind the helmet, yellow eyes stared at those tiny shards of darkness.

He had sensed... that Ventus' light was subtly affecting Sora's...

Could he affect this boy's... darkness?

He felt exhausted, but at the same time, this prospect colored everything anew.

Next time... next time... He...

...

His body, or whatever this form that resided in this boy's heart, became tired. Compelled, he sought out the dreamy little beach, that little shack with shade, the door cracked open for that single ray of light... and peace washed over him.

Time goes on.

A year had passed, though time was practically non-existent to Vanitas. The only tell came from Sora himself acknowledging time.

It would happen during the night. The entire day Sora felt strange and in turn, made the heart feel... off. Not in a bad way, but, as though anticipation was palpable.

Vanitas awoke in Sora's heart as the phantasmal sun fluctuated in its brightness. The sanctuary beach didn't make a sound. No shining water splashed against the crystal sands. No whispering winds flowed through the vibrant flora. All was still.

As though waiting.

If Vanitas did not know any better, it seemed as though the sound was emitting from a different source.

The low droning of the collective voices chorused and echoed from the small tunnel that led into the Dive. It compelled him, lead him from the dream of this little heart.

From there, on the stained glass that flowed like water, the reality of Sora's eyes appeared before him.

Riku and Sora had been talking, still as fast friends as ever. They were walking down one of the paths from the kindergarten, taking their time in the warm breeze.

Vanitas listened.

"Did you hear?" Riku began. "The teachers told us that there's going to be a meteor shower tonight! Y'know, the type where there is a bunch of shooting stars in the sky?"

"Really?!" Sora was excited as usual, and the light in the heart sparkled with it. Vanitas had to resist rolling his eyes. What was so good about that? "What time is this going to be?" Now Sora sounded worried.

"Way past our bedtime! There's no way our parents will let us stay up to see it."

"No way! I'll go see it no matter what!"

"If you can do that, that would be amazing." The older boy chuckled.

"Yes, I will!"

"What are you going to do? Sneak out?"

"Uh-huh!"

"You'll get caught and get in trouble. We won't be able to play if you're stuck in your room"

This seemed to irritate Sora at being told he was incapable of doing something and Vanitas took full advantage to implant a seed of mischief in the heart of the boy.

"Just you wait and see!"

It was later that night where Sora laid frustrated on his bed. The toys scattered around the room while the fairy lights were hung along the walls by pegs. Papers were scattered about with scribbles of the results of Sora imagination.

Earlier, he asked his parents about the Meteor Shower to watch it, however... they said no. The shower is said to be coming after his bedtime and that loud festivals, lots of people and a tired young child were not a good combination.

And thus Sora was sent to bed on time as the little boy huffed in frustration. He stirred in his bed, ruffling the sheets even further. "I wanna see the meteors." Sora mumbled into his pillow. He refused to dress in his PJ's and stared irritated outside where he saw people illuminated by dimmed street lights, gathering on the mainland's beach to watch the meteors and where they will fall.

Sora wanted to be outside. He needed to be outside.

And that need, pulsed strongly in his heart.

Before Vanitas could suggest to Sora, testing to see how far his influence could affect the boy, Sora decided, on his own, to sneak out.

The small boy gingerly crept out of his bedroom, as quiet as someone his small size could be. The boy spotted his parents watching television- whatever show they were watching, Sora did not care. Stealthy as a mouse, he crept past and paused at the door, unsure how to open it without making a sound.

This is where Vanitas stepped in, whispering to Sora how to open a door and be quiet about it. It was a useful ability for his... His...

Once again Vanitas memories failed him. He knew he had to be stealthy at times... for what though... If he didn't.. He would have been...

Sora didn't hear any voice, or specific instructions, and yet his hand gingerly touched the cool brass knob. Slowly he twisted it, not perfect, few squeaks of the springs and bolts were tightened, but nothing to alert anyone.

Using both hands, Sora slowly opened the door and snuck away in the night.

As though on a mission, the boy crept through the streets, trying to stay out of sight. It was the type of town where nearly everyone knew each other. At least, they would know the son of one of the main fishermen of Destiny Island.

So Sora, with a strange notion in his mind, stuck to the places where the street lamps did not shine.

Deep in his heart, Vanitas smirked.

The boy had to find a place where he could watch the meteor shower without anyone spotting him. Logically, to the small child, it made sense to go to the island where he played to get there. It only seemed natural to go there. It was like... he needed to go there. Down the pier- a small, little thing- was where the children of the coast docked their boats. Sora found his own easily in the dark. The half moon provided enough illumination for those blue eyes.

With practiced ease that came from learning about the sea and boats ever since he was born, Sora untied his boat and was astern at sea.

Vanitas did not know why he enjoyed this so much. He wasn't even interested in silly little lights in the sky. Maybe, it was the small acts of defying authority, something he couldn't do originally. Or, was it because his theory of manipulating the boy was being confirmed?

Even then, that strange feeling that has been building in Sora's heart, was growing stronger. Soon Vanitas felt an odd sensation that coursed through his darkness. What was it? What drew this boy who had an astoundingly strong heart towards it?

A shudder, both warming and chilling, flowed in his 'body'. Anticipation was not an accurate word.

Sora continued onward, knowing the route to the island like the back of his hand. No vision needed. When he was almost there, did it seem like the stars began to fall from that black velvet curtain

Bright trails streaked across the night sky like threads of a grand tapestry. Blue eyes widened in awe and joy of the flying stars speeding up the rowing process towards the island.

Sora all but scrambled out of the boat, running across the darkened beach. He laughed and jumped, trying to reach out to grab the gold and silver streaks like fireflies. He wanted to fly with the stars, and see beyond.

Was there anything beyond?

The stars continued to fall, twinkling throughout the sky before fading in the darkness; Sora traveled further down the beach, close to where the Paopu Tree rock was.

He was shaking with excitement. At unknown possibilities and stories that no one else have seen.

And, then, illuminated by the moon and falling stars.

He saw someone.

A small someone, face down on the beach.

Not moving.

Acting on instinct, Sora rushed towards the person, their appearance hard to make out. He began to shake the person. They were wet from the sea and skin was ice cold.

"Hey!" Sora cried out trying to rouse the person. All he knew was sleeping on the beach was bad. "Hey! HEY!"

And then a noise, a small mumble and shifting by the person. Tiny and weak.

"Hey! Are you okay? Who are you? Where do you come from?" He asked the person rapidly; however, he felt the person shift their face back down in the sand, causing Sora to panic.

Feeling worried, he began to lift the person over his shoulder, a difficult task for a child but luck would have it, so was the person his size as well, and probably his age as well. Not good! He knew even adults shouldn't be this way. Slowly he dragged them away from the cold ocean and while Sora was unsure what to do, he could only try to get the person away.

"SORA!" A masculine voice called out his name, angry and worried at the same time.

It was his father. He must have realized Sora was missing from the house. The tall man was intent to drag his son back and ground him. What he did not expect was his boy looking worried carrying someone across his back.

"Dad!" He cried out, trying his best to hurry to his father, stumbling awkwardly with the person on his back. "T-this p-per- This kid! I-I! I found them! On the beach! T-they won't ope- I mean, w-wa-ke up!"

Instantly any anger the father felt for Sora sneaking out evaporated as concerned for the mysterious child Sora had.

The older man knelt down and felt how cold the child was, the child wet form was soaking his son's clothes as well. They were breathing, but it was shallow. They needed to be wared quickly.

"Hurry to the boat, Sora." His voice was firm but calm. Taking the mysterious kid, the father and son ran back to the bigger boat. It was more spacious than Sora's little wooden boat. It had storage spaces and supplies. The fisherman took out a blanket, thick wool, and wrapped it around the unconscious child. He got one for Sora as well and began the row back to the mainland.

It was a blur of events for the young boy who was dropped off at the house with his dad giving a quick message to his mother. Something about needing to go to the doctors while heading off, carrying the other child in tow.

His mother was both worried and angry and after a hug and a bath, she shooed him off to bed with a 'don't ever do that again' and waited until the boy was asleep.

And Sora dreamed of rising moons, glass pillars, crowns and girls flying through stars.

And while Sora dreamed, Vanitas stood still and shocked. If one could see his face, intrigue, wonder and awe, comparable to how Sora saw the Meteor Shower earlier. A desire flowed in him. Now he understood why Sora's heart was attracted to that place tonight.

That girl... that girl was full of light. Not a single shred of darkness. It... it was almost like...her.

He also remembered something.

Shooting stars, meteor showers, and a star blinking out, that meant...

A world ended.

The old man... told him as such...

And speaking of which... he must have been defeated. Otherwise, a girl like the one on the beach would not exist if the worlds have been equalized or consumed by darkness. Defeated, but not completely.

Maybe it was a gut feeling, but Vanitas knew his former Master had backup plans upon backup plans. And the fact that a world disappeared... Maybe it was a long stretch, even paranoia, but Vanitas knew it was in fact caused by the old man.

So he was still alive...

And as Sora slept, Vanitas hatred grew.

He remembered a bit more. Vivid sparks of affliction, fear, and gloom. Fury and Bitterness. Pain like molten hot rods and despair like a never-ending pit. Training. Is what the man called it. ...Even without proper memories, Vanitas had to resist the urge to clutch his arms. Fear was like an icy hand enshrouding his helmet, and the shock of lightning right into the blood veins

There is a reason why Ventus forgot.

The old fool wished to equalize darkness and light. Vanitas could tell you being a thing of pure darkness... it wasn't that great.

He craved light, so much of it. Even if it wasn't his.

And when Sora got near that girl.

Light bloomed in his entire heart.

What a wonderful feeling.

Did Ventus feel this? Every day since he forgot? This joy? This happiness?

The loathing for his lighter half and all the things he had increased.

He was tired of Ventus' getting everything. And this light? The light of this boy's whose heart unknowingly accepted him? He would not share it. He would not lose it.

Just like how no one shared it with him.

No one would take this feeling away.

End of Chapter 2

Reviews and comments do help and I appreciate feedback

#kingdom hearts #sora #kh1 #vanitas #fanfiction #kingdom hearts fanfiction #a fragment of a fragment

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bibibourellymusic · 7 years ago

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Fucked. ( 2017 )

They say that one day I wont care about you anymore. I want to believe them but I don't. They say that I'll somehow wake up one morning and you'll have miraculously disappeared from my memory. That the thought of you wont hurt anymore and I'll somehow manage to laugh at the thought of us without having to force myself to.

Maybe I'm a pessimist. But I really don't believe them. I'm partially happy you never got to see how much I loved you, which is fucked up. I'm also partially distraught you never got to see how much I loved you which is even more fucked up.

I’m so tired of thinking things are “fucked up”. Literally exhausted. Like , it entertained me for a while at first. Gave life a little "spice" ,so to speak but at this point I’m out of energy.

I’m also out of the times I can use the word 'fuck' in one sentence. Boys are fucked, love is fucked, adults are so fucked (Im over them) , Trump can suck a dick, and I write shitty songs. Yup. There it is.

Okay , maybe I’m being a little melodramatic but you get the gist. Its like , without you everything sucks more. I wish I were more romantic about this and I somehow wrote out some sort of deep,poetic, wedding vow because I know that,that's the type of shit you like and I totally could do that but I mean this shit so authentically that I feel like trying to turn this into a beautiful “coldplay” lyric would defeat its purpose. I also know you're not coming back so there's no point in losing my head over it lol. Me writing this is more for me then it is for you. I'm totally selfishly writing right now. I also know youre never gonna read this so I guess this my little secret between my 90 thousand instagram followers and I. Hi guys. whats Up. Totally confiding in you right now. ha. whats the harm right?

Im laughing. Not because Im chipper but because this is just really funny to me. you know? my life. these stupid first world problems. The fact that I'm effected by these stupid fucking first world problems. “A BOY? REALLY BIBI? A FUCKING BOY? How is this even possible?” I know your thinking it. Cause I am too. Im not always this much of a wimp. I promise.

Its like I feel like Im High School all over the again. Its almost like : THE SHIT NEVER ENDS.

Boys who lie turn into men who lie. Adults are just as mean as teenagers , except with money , cars and houses. Its all still a big ass popularity contest filled with grown people all in a rat race competing to be the coolest and the richest. Oh, and I almost forgot; the prettiest. cant forget "pretty" right?

side note:

Heres a question I have for the world. WHY DOES EVERYONE CARE ABOUT BEING COOL SO MUCH? ISNT CARING ABOUT BEING POPULAR AND BEING LIKED AND BEING "COOL" THE VERY THING THAT MAKES SOMEONE "UNCOOL"?

Then again , what do I know right? I never won prom queen or was the class president. Shit, I never even got good grades for that matter. I spent all my time smoking cigarettes , hanging out with people just toxic and crazed enough to keep me inspired, and writing songs and singing them in the practice rooms....and at home on grandmas old grand piano , and at dads house on his good guitar,..... and when dad was home and I couldn't sneak and steal his , I played on my shitty two stringed guitar in my hot pink and lime green bed room.So by the looks of it , I dont have the cool card. not that I give a shit.

Oh and the boy I love? He totally has his cool card. Hes so "cool". As a matter a fact, hes probably on some island with a cigar and a beautiful edgy girl with tattoos and long colorfulhair who takes really good instagram pictures and never complains.

Theyre probably talking about cool stuff like drake and rihanna, the new childish gambino song, tumblr and bragging to all their "cool" friends that'll last them about a week about how they only "shoot in film because iphone pictures are corny."......

While I'm here. Moping like a pathetic teenage drama queen. Self Loathing in the same fucking notebook ive written since I was 15 , eating cocopuffs without milk (whack) , with my guitar, tryna conjure up some passionate emotion so I can write the best song of my life, as usual.

I think I’m having an early 20’s existential crisis. you know? the one were you spend your nights wondering what this life and world we’re in is actually even all about. Here I am, Senselessly obsessing over a boy with a lower IQ than me that everyone says I’m going to forget in 5 years so “theres no point.”

*sigh*

so what is the point then? can someone tell me the point of all of this growing up shit that everyone seems to be so fucking obsessed with? Apparently Im not in on the secret.

Managers are like Parents, Suits are like teachers , Celebrities are the new mean girls and the government and donald dump is like the grey , dated, school system they locked us all up in for 12 years of our life when all we ever wanted to do is just to break free and be ourselves. There you have it ladies and gentlemen. I think I figured it out. The point is - THERE IS NONE. great.

I’m convinced that I am a 6 year old girl trapped in a 23 year old womans body.

OH and back to YOU. mystery boy. If you do happen to read this (which you wont) and have the urge to pick up the phone to call me..(which you wont either.) dont bother. My iphone broke this morning.

notes to you , notes to self

bibi PS. if you, for one second thought i was bitching. Youre absolutely right. Annoying. I know. Im annoyed with myself too.

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rubywithin · 4 years ago

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Zen Flow Soul 47

I decided to take a break from playing Zen Flow today as I felt I needed to relax after my battle against Shilu. Apparently there was some announcement about to be made by the Zen Flow association so I decided to watch the news reports. They pretty much talked a lot about the 5 players coming over, I was interested in Sayoi since Rai mentioned Wariya not having what it took to face him for some reason. They both used Light decks..so maybe he just sees him as a rival I wish I could of helped Wariya. Oh looks like the special announcement is coming up. (Reporter) “For everyone tuning in we have a special announcement for the multi school tournament we will have a special guest. She will award the winner the trophy, the guest will be none other than Valerie Senkumi”. NO WAY I heard she was a member of a wealthy family that helped fund the Zen Flow organisation here. (Valerie) “Thank you for the warm welcome I look forward to the event and who knows I may even have an exhibition match”.

(Reporter) “Well thank you for coming out her today, I’m sure everyone would tune in to see you compete Lady Senkumi”. I wonder how skilled she is....I can’t believe it I feel excited now, I heard that Valerie was the only heir to the family I doubt I could handle that kind of pressure. I watched the rest of the broadcast but they did not seem to mention anything else. (Mother) “Kari lunch is ready” I sat at the table with mum and dad, (Father) “How was the broadcast?”. I smiled (Kari) “It was interesting, a member of the Senkumi family will be awarding the students tournament trophy”. We talked about a bunch of other stuff while we ate “Thank you for the meal” I went back to my room.

The card Shilu gave me was Soul Unicorn, I could use the Soul Steads to evolve summon him so I just needed to take out one monster. I went with my second Soul Pegasus, Unicorn’s ability seemed to play off Pegasus quite well so maybe they will be a helpful combo. Thinking about Shilu and how he went through a bunch of decks made me feel happy he found one that suited him. I suddenly got a message from Kaze saying he wanted to meet up tomorrow, I agreed to since it has been a bit since we last talked. Also I kind of want to hear about his battles on the competitive scene as he has had a lot of high profile battles.

-Meanwhile Sayoi was facing another dark type user- (Sayoi) “Attack her now Soul Phantom Dragon”. (???) “From the discard pile I activate Eclipse Armor, this changes my monster to defence position and doubles its defence”. What is wrong with me....first Kari...then Ghen and now this girl why...why can’t I win. I use to be un beatable but now no one is fazed by my monsters...am I weak? (???) “How disappointing I expected more from a dragon user, Eclipse Blader Gwayne will attack you directly. This attack is followed by his Eclipse Knight Soldiers” once again my life count has fallen to 0. I...am so pathetic compared to my previous self. (???) “Don’t bother being my opponent in the best of 5 because that was disappointing, my name is Luna so you know who not to face”. I punched the ground....(Kuzima) “You shouldn’t let a single loss get to you”. Wait a second why is Kuzima here? he is one of the top 5 players of the country. (Sayoi) “Why are you here?”, (Kuzima) “Let’s just say a fellow dark dragon user interested me also I know a certain someone who also struggled to win. I want to help you get past your doubts...like he did”.

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deadcactuswalking · 4 years ago

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REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 24/10/2020 (Digga D, Justin Bieber, benny blanco)

Internet Money’s “Lemonade” featuring Don Toliver, NAV and Gunna finally hit #1 on the UK Singles Chart, and that’s today’s #1. Anyone else find it funny that NAV has a #1 hit in, well, any country? Anyway, welcome to REVIEWING THE CHARTS.

Dropouts & Returning Entries

A lot of our new arrivals from yesterday are gone entirely, including “Parlez-Vous Anglais” by Headie One featuring Aitch, mostly because only the three highest-performing songs from an artist can be in the chart at one time, so “Only You Freestyle” with Drake returned at #44. As well as that, other notable drop-outs from the UK Top 75 are “Mr. Right Now” by 21 Savage and Metro Boomin featuring Drake, “5AM” by M Huncho and Nafe Smallz exiting pretty prematurely, “Over Now” by Calvin Harris and the Weeknd, “Wishing Well” by the late Juice WRLD lasting longer than I expected, and “Heaven on My Mind” by Becky Hill and Segala. The biggest fall for the week is “Laugh Now Cry Later” by Drake and Lil Durk getting hit with the streaming cut down from #18 and #42 and the biggest is for last week’s debut “i miss u” by Jax Jones and Au/Ra up from #53 to #39. The only other returning entry we have is that garbage “Papi Chulo” song by Octavian and Skepta back for seemingly no reason. That doesn’t mean we don’t have 11 new arrivals, though, so let’s get started.

NEW ARRIVALS

#69 – “Train Wreck” – James Arthur

Produced by Adam Argyle

X Factor winner and insecure homophone who somehow pissed Frankie Boyle off on Twitter in 2012 James Arthur is back with his latest single since his first comeback album which was surprisingly successful, even stateside, mostly because of soppy, unlistenable ballad “Say You Won’t Let Go”. So, what’s to be expected out of this frog-voiced adult contemporary lad today? Well, apparently this is actually not his latest single choice for that lead off of the fourth album and rather just a deep cut from his 2016 album Back from the Edge. It’s the sixth track on the album, it’s four years old and never had a single push so I can only assume... TikTok? I don’t know, I think everyone’s feeling like this year’s been a bit of a train wreck so is the song good? I don’t know, I think his belting is impressive but pretty aggravating with only the soft piano backing and it does sound like he’s straining himself a bit here. The pouring out of his emotions during the dark place he was in between 2013 and 2016 is pretty effective and admittedly I feel kind of bad for the guy but, man, you can tell this is the first song he wrote for the album as it feels pretty underwritten, with a lot of reliance on that chorus, which is powerful but not nearly enough as he wants it to be. He explores a religious angle in the first verse that goes absolutely nowhere. Looking at the comments on the Genius page and ignoring the ones saying “This is epic” or “Anyone here from Harry Potter TikToks?”, I can tell it’s helping people and if this really is impactful to his audience then all fairness to him, it does its job. I’m just not a fan.

#68 – “Heat Waves” – Glass Animals

Produced by Dave Bayley

I swear “trainwreck” and “heatwave” are usually one word. Huh. Glass Animals are an indie-pop project fronted by Dave Bayley and I’ve never felt the need to look into them, and whilst I always assumed they were big – especially this recent third album which did big numbers to mixed reception – I didn’t think they were “chart in the top 100” big, especially not too months after the album release when another single is clearly being pushed. It has got a couple remixes though, particularly a Diplo one, so I guess this is a good time to first check Bayley and co out. Maybe my definition of “psychedelic pop” is different to Pitchfork’s (who didn’t even like this album) but I didn’t expect pitch-shifted vocals put against trap instrumentals and 808s that drown out all of the musicality that goes into the watery synths and guitar picking under the pretty rough vocals here, saved by some cool melodic ideas and multi-tracking that sounds pretty good in the verses. That chorus is lazy and quickly loses its lustre though, and it is not nearly climactic enough for that point in the bridge where its cuts out and returns to work or have any impact at all. The lyrics are pretty fluffy and non-descript, apart from the refrain of “Road shimmer wigglin’ the vision”... okay, I understand why you pitch-shifted that one. Yeah, this is pretty garbage, as are these remixes, although admittedly I kind of enjoy Diplo’s future bass rendition. You can’t do much to make a badly-written song sound interesting as an EDM remixer. I listened to that “Space Ghost Coast to Coast” song out of curiosity and... just because your “ayys” sound more like “ehs” doesn’t mean your trap-rap is suddenly art pop. Also:

“Space Ghost Coast To Coast” combines bits and pieces of millennial childhood nostalgia with musings on school shootings.

Joy. Next.

#67 – “PMW” – M Huncho and Nafe Smallz

Produced by Quincy Tellem

The drill MF DOOM (in aesthetic, not ability) and some nasal-voiced idiot who is not selling himself well with that stage name make a collaborative album produced by Soulja Boy Tell ‘Em. Here’s their ode to Profit Margins and Wages. Okay, it’s just them trading bars over an actually pretty damn good trap beat, with a killer choral vocal sample and some skittering hi-hats with a high enough pace that it makes Nafe Smallz seem mildly engaged. M Huncho sounds fine here, but the chorus here is pretty rough for both of them, and it just sounds really awkward. I do like Nafe’s second verse here, the flows he uses are pretty catchy and he sounds alive for once. What do you expect me to say about this though? They don’t rap anything interesting, the trap beat is good but not particularly interesting and the performances are mildly entertaining at best. It’s not nearly as amusing as the last single I liked from Huncho, “Pee Pee”. I’m not surprised this didn’t debut very high, and I guess it’ll drop off next week like nothing ever happened.

#65 – “One More Time” – Not3s featuring AJ Tracey

Produced by Eyes Adoasi and Remedee

Well, this duo have worked together a bunch of times before, and are undeniably preferable to M Huncho and Nafe Smallz, even if I’m not necessarily a big fan of either artist. This seems to be a lead-off single for Not3s’ third record as well as an interpolation of Britney Spears’ “...Baby One More Time” with a pretty cute pitch-shifted female vocal acting as the main melody for the track... and, yeah, this is what I expect from AJ Tracey. There’s an obvious UK garage flavour to the track – it does feel like a modernised throwback – and AJ’s spitting pretty competently, even if his flow is pretty basic and at times janky. Not3s is even more janky in the pre-chorus but the harmonising on the chorus and flow on the second verse is pretty damn impressive and dare I say charming. If he wants to go into this smooth R&B-rap direction on this type of UK garage beat I approve fully and I would be excited for that upcoming album. It kind of reminds me of Jeremih, to be completely honest, and I’m not sure exactly where I get that comparison but he sounds great. The beat does feel like it stagnates, especially during AJ’s verse actually – it might be the weak link stopping this from becoming great – but it doesn’t overstay its welcome and the 8-bit sound effects during AJ’s verse do stop this from being boring, though I still prefer a fair few of AJ’s other singles, like “Kiss and Tell” with Skepta which the song immediately reminded me of. It could have actually done with no guest verse but I know Not3s needs that promo so I’m not complaining about this. I hope to see it in the top 40 soon.

#62 – “Perkosex” – D-Block Europe

Produced by Gwiz and Roki

“Perkosex”. Wow, and I thought these guys couldn’t get dumber. We have a third DBE album cut this week and I’m already impressed by the awful pun in the title and the fact that this is literally taken from a YouTube producer’s (FREE) Calboy/Polo G type beat. Classy. This is a more downbeat song for the duo, with two verses, kind of. In fact, there’s no chorus, just one verse from Dirtbike LB who actually starts off the song with some spoken word and pathetic “Ski” ad-libs – leave that to Young Adz, who fragments his verse with a pointless and awkward bridge, as if his verse didn’t fill up that quota anyway. We have an acoustic guitar, pitched-up vocal sample that comes in to waste time every so often, and actually cuts Adz’s verse in two. Both LB and Adz croon and mumble, barely staying on the beat, with Adz mumbling so much on his first part of the verse that I initially thought this was just an outro to a song that lasted one and a half minutes, but, no, there’s an extra minute to go and Adz adz nothing to the track that needed that second half of the verse. Neither of the rappers are any funny here, but at least LB compares his friends to terrorists and says he’s got shots in his mouth like a peppermint... I mean, he sounds more mentally stable than he usually does on these songs, I guess. The second half of that Adz verse starts off with either him barely staying on-topic or just a complete plot twist.

You signed up for a drug dealer, not a drug user

And the next line:

And one of my toxic traits is that I love too much

Again, classy. This is crap even by their standards and just straight boring. It won’t go anywhere, but knowing my luck it might be the Christmas #1. Next.

#60 – “Someone to You” – BANNERS

Produced by KOZ

More “indie pop” debuting on the charts, although this one is directly off of the success of Love, Victor, a Hulu original series based on the film Love, SImon that used it in its soundtrack and hence it’s here on the chart. This song has been on three of this guy’s EPs and is actually all the way back from 2017 so, yeah, we have some old cuts here. I have absolutely nothing to say about the song though. Sure, I appreciate the vocal harmonies in the post-chorus and the organic drumming but the vaguely folkish guitar sounds pretty trite, as do the hand-claps and the incredibly generic mish-mash of love song clichés in all of the lyrics here. I’m reminded of a lighter Biffy Clyro that happens to be from Liverpool instead of Scotland and, you know, have no grit or interesting songwriting to back the enthusiastic vocal delivery and repetitive, exhausting chorus. I’m not into this at all, it just reeks of a lack of effort or unique character to it. And I’m safe to assume that about this next song...

#59 – “You’re Mines Still” – Yung Bleu

Produced by Nate Rhoads

This song got big because of Drake on the remix and thank God for that because this Juice WRLD rip-off could never stand on his two feet anyway. The fake attempt at a half-hearted British accent drenched in Auto-Tune is an immediate turn-off – the dude’s from Alabama and sounds like he’s vaguely imitating an Afroswing singer – but so is this incredibly low-effort trap beat with barely anything other than a Sting sample from the exact song “Lucid Dreams” sampled, and it’s not like this is an uncommon flip, coincidence or even a sample that hasn’t been used in a bunch of rap tracks before. Watch out, Yung Bleu, or else Sting will try and sue your ass on BS counts of “plagiarism” until you tragically die young or get a Drake stimulus package big enough for you to pay off royalties and fines for copyright infringement. In fact, I’m convinced that’s the only reason Drake hopped onto the remix so he and his massive bank account can settle the incoming lawsuit and pay the legal fees for this guy, because he doesn’t contribute anything worthwhile to this trash either. Jesus, this is bad.

#58 – “Happiness” – Little Mix

Produced by TMS

We don’t have that album yet, but we have another low-charting promotional single, I guess, now that the last one dropped off from the chart entirely... last week. Little Mix are now noticing that maybe they really cannot perform that well without Syco so I guess they’re just throwing as many bricks as D-Block Europe claim to be selling and hoping one of them fits into the wall. I don’t mind the song for all it’s worth, to be honest, I mean it’s more of a fast-paced dance-pop song about love I can appreciate with some pretty great vocal performances from the girls here, especially who I think are Leigh-Anne and Jade. The chorus hits pretty hard and the fusion of 808s and trap skitters on the verses with a killer UK garage-inspired drum loop on the chorus... yeah, I can actually endorse this, albeit with some hesitation, especially since the bridge is literally just like 10 seconds of vocal riffing, which makes the song feel somewhat underwritten even if that final chorus, especially the lead-up to it, is pretty amazing and genuinely surprised me on my first listen. This is good, and honestly a lot better than I expected from Little Mix, so check it out if you’re interested, although sadly I doubt this’ll stick.

#29 – “Hold” – Chunkz and Yung Filly

Produced by Ransom Beatz

I can say the same about this, now that we’re in the top 40 here (first for both artists), mostly because Chunkz is pretty much a YouTube comedian and looking at these lyrics, there are now jokes. There is some ugly Auto-Tuned crooning over a pretty flat Afroswing beat and Chunkz’s delivery is similarly flat and it’s obvious he’s a comedian. You can just tell when rappers are also comedians and this guy definitely makes that obvious in his half-hearted “upbeat” delivery that sounds like a satire, but the problem is again that there are NO JOKES. Is the “airplane mode” line a joke? The use of the word “investments”? The egregious Spanish in the second verse? This weak-sauce instrumental? If any of these are jokes or an attempt at comedy, please let me stand corrected because I don’t know if Chunkz was chuckling to himself writing but none of this is funny or even entertaining. It’s pretty telling that the Genius page gave up on trying to distinguish the two rappers as well. Next.

#19 – “Lonely” – Justin Bieber and benny blanco

Produced by benny blanco and FINNEAS

Why is benny blanco credited as a lead artist while FINNEAS isn’t? Huh. Well, Justin’s back and leaving whatever the hell Changes was earlier this year right behind him, focusing on more introspective and personal tracks like... “Holy”, I guess. Well, for what it’s worth, this is better than “Holy” by quite a bit. It’s a pretty minimal ballad with some nice work on the keys from benny and egregious profanity from Bieber in the chorus. I do like the content though, and how he delves into Bieber’s regrets in his past, especially in the second verse although I feel like he misses the point here or at least doesn’t go in-depth enough for me to fully comprehend his view on the situation. They criticised things you did as an idiot kid because they were insensitive, immoral and at some times illegal, not because you were a child. Sure, the media and the press can be antagonistic, especially to easy targets – hell, it’s worse here than in the US or Canada – but it’s not entirely clear in the short verse here that he’s not just deflecting blame onto the “haters”. I do like how he talks about the downs that come with having so much wealth and fame at a young age and no idea on what to do with it other than reckless leisure activities and raking in the fandom’s love whilst he continues to drink-drive and lose his pet monkey, which he shouldn’t have had in the first place. He also talks about how the paparazzi and Internet comment trolls viewed his pictures of him with Lyme disease and immediately assumed he was doing drugs, which can be similarly said for Chadwick Boseman, who died earlier this year due to complications related to colon cancer at age 43. Yeah, this one digs pretty deep but I still feel like it could have used a third verse, especially since while Bieber claims to cite his wife Hailey Baldwin as his “saviour” this is his third or fourth time painting himself as the “comeback” of Bieber but now a more mature man, and none of those attempts have really succeeded so this seems kind of desperate on his behalf. Sigh, the song’s fine and honestly I appreciate it for what it tries to do but it falls short here and lacks the real dagger in the heart moment personally revealing songs about fame like this should have, although I’d admit it gets close. Now for our final entry, which has considerably less to talk about...

#18 – “Chingy (It’s Whatever)” – Digga D

Produced by ItchyDaProducer

Chingy? As in “Right Thurr”, “Holidae Inn” Chingy? Huh. From one look at the chorus, it just seems to be another threat but hey, Digga D’s back. I’m not sure if anyone wanted him back but here he is. He released an album last year. This wasn’t on it. I can’t actually remember this guy at all; I assumed this was DigDat so I expected some quality – I mean, no drill lyric can beat “white like Peter, brown like Cleveland” – but no, it’s Digga D, who made a song with Russ Splash last year that got in the top 40. I remember reviewing it, I remember not thinking much of it at the time. I don’t think much of this one either although I do have to admit I really like that eerie vocal sample, even if it is completely drowned out by the drill beat and the inconsistently-censored sliding on the beat from Digga D. He uses a pretty standard drill flow here though, and the verses are little more than oddly specific gunplay and flexing. He does actually interpolate “Right Thurr” by Chingy in this pretty good and catchy chorus – which I imagine is the only reason this is in the top 20 – as well as in the second verse, where he interpolates his other biggest song which already interpolated a Vine. Sure, I guess.

Conclusion

Not as good of a week as the last, although there’s still a LOT of British hip hop here, mostly sectioned between some indie-pop clunkers. In fact, I’m going to give Glass Animals the Dishonourable Mention for “Heat Waves” while Worst of the Week goes to “You’re Mines Still” by Yung Bleu and Drake on the remix for just being a horrible song all around. Best of the Week surprises me but it’s going to Little Mix for “Happiness” because, well, at least it has some damn energy to it unlike the rest of these songs. I guess the Honourable Mention can go to “One More Time” by Not3s and AJ Tracey but even that would be stretching it. Let’s hope for some good stuff next time, maybe some of that new Gorillaz album... pretty please? Here’s the top 10 for this week:

Big gains for “What You Know Bout Love” there, which is interesting. Follow me on @cactusinthebank for Tory scum baiting and I’ll see you next week.

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