#did you not pay attention to how nearly everyone treated his accuser

[beardedmrbean]

Sexual assault survivor Chessy Prout has slammed a judicial nomination by President Joe Biden.

She was 15 years old when she was assaulted by an older student at St Paul’s School, an elite institution in New Hampshire in 2014.

She anonymously testified against the perpetrator, Owen Labrie, at his trial, but she and her family were still the subjects of threats. She also faced off against the school as it tried to reach a settlement in a civil suit. The school’s strategy enraged Ms Prout to such an extent that she chose to share her story with the public, according to The Boston Globe.

Despite how it changed her life, Ms Prout told the paper that she feels like it has been worth it to speak out.

The lawyer who utilised the tactic that angered Ms Prout has now been nominated to be a federal judge, prompting her to speak out yet again.

“I am determined to have some sort of good, or some sort of change, come out of all the horrible things that have happened to me and my family,” she said.

Mr Biden nominated the former New Hampshire Attorney General Michael Delaney to take a seat at the US First Circuit Court of Appeals in Boston.

When Mr Delaney was in private practice, he represented St Paul’s in the civil lawsuit and filed a motion rejecting Ms Prout’s request that she remain anonymous in the event that the dispute went to trial.

The strategy was controversial and criticised as being intended to force a settlement.

Ms Prout and her family ensured that the Biden White House and the senators representing New Hampshire were aware of Mr Delaney’s actions when they became aware that he was being considered for the role last year.

But Mr Biden still proceeded to nominate Mr Delaney.

“I feel like bad actors get rewarded all the time,” Ms Prout told The Globe, which reported earlier this month that the family opposition has created problems for Mr Delaney’s nomination.

“I’m pretty jaded, even at the age of 24 ... but at the same time, I did have higher hopes for this White House,” she told the paper.

Ms Prout was inspired by Mr Biden’s efforts to fight sexual violence, such as the “It’s On Us” programme launched by the Obama White House in 2014 following her assault when Mr Biden was vice president.

“To see this issue be brought up in a really public and noticeable way right when I was going through this issue personally, it felt like kismet, it felt like it was meant to be,” she told The Globe. “I felt like the tides were turning.”

She added that she took part in a conference call in 2017 with Mr Biden after he left the White House during which he said he would continue to work on the issue.

Ms Prout now says she’s “extremely disappointed” by Mr Biden’s nomination of Mr Delaney.

“It is really disheartening that it’s this political party that has been so vocal about supporting survivors, and the fact that they now are throwing their wholehearted support behind a nominee who basically practiced ... victim intimidation tactics,” she told The Globe.

“It just blows my mind that there isn’t a better option,” she added.

The White House said last month that the administration “expects senators to take Mr Delaney’s full record into account when considering his nomination”.

New Hampshire’s two Democratic Senators, Jeanne Shaheen and Maggie Hassan, have said they support the nomination but they also voiced support for Ms Prout, something she said is meaningless if Mr Delaney’s nomination succeeds.

“There’s so much talk you can do, there’s so many posters you can hang, so many social media posts you can do to support survivors, but that means nothing – nothing – unless you support them ... in real life,” she told The Globe. “It’s been a lot of talk and not so much action.”

“I know that judge appointments are totally political and it’s all about ... how many judges the president can appoint,” she added. “I just wish that it didn’t have to be this way, which is pretty naïve and idealistic of me to say.”

Mr Delaney told senators at his confirmation hearing last month his motion wasn’t intended to intimidate Ms Prout and he asked the committee to “consider the totality of my record over nearly 30 years as it reviews my qualifications”.

The Independent has reached out to the White House, Mr Delaney, Ms Hassan, and Ms Shaheen for comment.

[three-bunnies-in-a-trenchcoat]

Writing ask:

Maybe LU modern Au thing? No pressure!

Anyway took a few days but here you go! I took this opportunity to finally write another crack fic with four so it's probably not what you're expecting lmao. Kinda lost what little plot there was halfway through too

---------

"Someone's pulling us over." Green said. Vio sighed, and pulled the car to the side of the road. 

"Is it the cops?" Blue twisted around. 

Green shoved him back down. "If it is the cops, do you want to get us in more trouble?"

"Anyone do anything illegal lately?" 

"Other than how we're harboring a criminal in our house?" Blue asked sarcastically. "No."

"Shadow isn't a criminal anymore." Vio reminded him. "Dot pardoned him."

"Then why does everyone keep calling the cops on us?" He accused. "Wild nearly sets his house on fire at least once a week and even he doesn't see the cops as often as we do."

Vio sniffed and turned away, pointedly refusing to answer his question. 

A cop walked up to the window a moment later, knocking on it.

"Hello, officer." Vio said, rolling down the window and plastering on a smile.

"Have you seen this man?" The officer asked. He held up a picture of Legend, and Vio had to hold in a groan. "He was seen in a car matching the description of yours headed this way."

"No, I'm afraid not." He lied. 

"What about you?" The officer peered into the car, and Vio hoped he couldn't see the swords they'd shoved under the back seat. It would probably be a bit hard to explain what they were for.

"Nope." Blue said, crossing his arms.

He pulled out another picture, this time of Warriors. "What about him?"

"No." Vio said. "If you don't mind me asking, officer, what did they do?"

"They stole a few bottles of alcohol, but they were covered in blood, so we're treating them as dangerous."

"Well, I'll let you know if we see them."

He nodded, and Vio rolled up his window. Once he had left, he pulled out his phone, bringing up Legend’s number. The call connected within a moment.

"Get out of my damn trunk." He hissed, not even waiting for an acknowledgement.

There was a thump from the back of the car, and an echoing one on Vio's phone.

"I'm not in your trunk." Legend said. 

"And pigs fly." Green said, rolling his eyes. "The cops just pulled us over."

"Oh shit, that's what that was?" Warriors whispered, clearly thinking they wouldn't be able to hear. 

"Are you drunk?" Red asked, leaning closer to Vio's phone.

"...No."

"Time's gonna get your ass." Blue snorted.

"Pfft, he's like four feet tall. He can't do anything to me."

Vio's eye twitched. As a proud and somewhat reluctant owner of four feet and four inches, he didn't really appreciate that comment.

"I think he's going nuts." Legend said. Now that Vio was paying attention, he could tell that he was drunk. "He keeps calling Time Mask and insisting he's like, really short."

"Are you injured?"

"Uh, no. I don't think this is our blood."

"You're paying to clean my car."

"What? No–"

Vio hung up. He leaned forward, forehead resting on the steering wheel, not even caring that he was pressed against the horn, and sighed. It was so much simpler when he was helping Shadow take over the world.

[lesbx]

it seems to be a growing trend on tiktok and youtube and wherever of people posting videos of themselves either almost or even actually crashing into kids while doing things like skateboarding or biking in public and every. single. time. the comments are full of the most vile people speaking as if the child in the situation is the one at fault if that happens for ���being in the way” or just existing in a public area as a kid. or that they deserved it for “being stupid” or not paying attention or if they did notice but couldn’t get out of the way fast enough or panicked and accidentally stepped the wrong way into being hit and even more despicably just people expressing their glee at a kid getting hurt bc they’re just that kind of person that hates kids and has to make sure everyone knows it at all times. And this is just a very hyper specific scenario representing a broader issue with how we generally think and act towards children who deserve much more sympathy and attention than they often get (especially when they get used for videos like this) but i feel like i have to point out that it is never ever the kids fault in a situation like that. Never. No kid ever wants to get hurt so to insinuate that they purposely let themselves get hit by a bike or a scooter for attention is exactly the kind of shit adults accused you of when you were a kid too and you were actually hurt and were crying because you were hurt. there is no self awareness about this either when people go off about how much they hate kids and think they deserve everything they get, either despite the fact that they resented being treated that way when they were kids or even because they were, in a fucked up stupid “well it happened to me so they can put up with it too” mindset that makes me furious. to get back to my original point though, it’s never the kids fault no matter how they influenced an accident, either by not getting away or accidentally walking into it, because it is an adult’s responsibility to be aware of their surroundings. In one video i’ve seen, it was from a bikers gopro as he very nearly avoided a collision with like a 9 year old in the middle of a public park path, luckily only crashing his bike as he veered away, but he posted asking “ Who was at fault here?” like ?? legitimately in all of these videos that get posted, nearly without fail the comments point out that the kid should’ve seen them coming from a mile away, ignoring the inverse of that which is that the adult should’ve seen there was a child in their path and slowed down or stopped to avoid the accident, or if they couldn’t slow or stop, they need to crash into something else because even that reduces the potential for tragedy. I don’t care if your bike was $5000 it’s better to total it on a tree and take a ring to your bell because the alternative is unthinkable to me and i can’t believe it’s even a question

[nicnacsnonsense]

What Stede did wasn't "worse", and it's really fucking gross and pathetic of you to insist that it was.

Stede was traumatized. His actions hurt Ed, but they were not intentional, they were not deliberate. He was in shock, he disassociated. For fuck's sake, the man walked for miles, barefoot. You don't choose to do that.

You know who did, deliberately, choose to leave, and who hurt Stede when he did it?

Ed.

Ed, who never once stuck up for Stede (he never would have burnt a ship down for Stede, he fucking let Izzy undermine his authority and stab him, he let Calico Jack insult him and call him the wrong name), who never listened to Stede (every single time Stede tries to open up to Ed, Ed shuts him down).

I am so fucking sick of this fandom acting like Ed is somehow faultless and perfect when he treated Stede pretty fucking bad, actually, and rather than pay attention to Stede's obvious breakdown he was having on the beach, Ed made it about Ed's feelings and what Ed wanted.

Anon, my dear friend, if I may, I would like to speculate as to what happened here. You came across my post, perhaps it crossed your dashboard, perhaps you stumbled upon it in the stede bonnet or ofmd tag, and saw it as yet another example of everyone in this fandom being against Stede and never being willing to cut him any slack at all. And you felt so angry and frustrated by this constant barrage that you just had to say something. I understand, Anon. Why just the other day I was musing on my desire to go on anon and threaten to bite everyone who called Stede passive aggressive. And that is far from the only Stede take that has inspired that urge in me. You and I are kindred spirits in this, Anon.

But what I am certain you did not do is take a look at my blog and check my other posts before coming to your conclusions about my opinions on Stede. This was perhaps a failing on your part, but I do not fault you for it. Still, I would urge you to go take a peek through my stede bonnet tag now, as I suspect it will be quite to your liking. For what it will show you, and what anyone more familiar with me and my blog would have been able to tell you, is that here it is Protect Stede Bonnet hours all day every day. He is my cPTSD autistic son, who has done some things wrong in his life, yes, but not nearly so many as he is accused of and has been treated very unfairly by the fandom. In fact I suspect the only reason I am not an outright Stede Apologist is there just isn't much in the way of a Stede apologia echo chamber to get sucked into in this fandom, so I am regularly exposed to the opinions of people who think less highly of him.

It's actually very frustrating at times -- if I may vent to you here for a minute, Anon, as I think you'll understand -- because whenever I make a post supporting Stede or criticizing other characters in relation to him, I almost always feel this pressure to qualify it. To acknowledge that Stede still made mistakes too, or that ultimately the evidence isn't completely conclusive and other things could be true, or settle on suggesting equal fault even when I really think that Stede was the party done the greater wrong overall. I just wish I could make a post about how great a person I think Stede is without feeling like I have to add caveats because otherwise no one will engage with it, or they'll come at me accusing me of who knows what. (Not you, Anon. While I would encourage you to come on a little less strongly at least in initial approach and assume people are acting in good faith in the future, rest assured that I received your ask in all good humor.)

Now that I've rambled for quite a bit, let's move on to your actual concerns, yes? To start with let me assure you that I am fully aware of Stede's extremely traumatized state when he left Ed; it is even referenced in the tags of the original post. I am also generally in agreement with you that Stede was dissociating for his journey back to his house, though I know others disagree and I find those interpretations to be perfectly reasonable as long as we are all in agreement that he was not in a mentally stable place from which to be making sound & rational decisions.

As to saying what Stede did was worse, first I wish to make certain I was clear in my original post that I only intended to compare Stede's failure to meet Ed at the dock to Ed's failure to leave the dock to make sure Stede's absence wasn't because he had found himself in trouble. If we do understand that, well then you bring up an interesting question, Anon. How do we judge the morality of an action? Do we base it on the outcomes, the good done and harm caused, or on the intentions of the person acting? If circumstances make it harder for a given person in a given situation to make the right choice, then how does that impact our judgement, especially in situations where so much of the circumstances are internal and we as external viewers have no way of truly assessing how much more difficult it actually is? How much allowance do we make for a person acting from ignorance rather than knowledge? How do we compare an action with certain outcomes versus one with uncertain outcomes?

And that's before we even get to your addition, Anon, of the time when Ed left Stede in episode 8. Because comparing that to Stede's leaving highlights another important part to this conversation; that this is all happening within a fictional narrative where the characters serve as narrative tools to further the story and messages. Now, I believe there is much value in analyzing characters as though they were real people making real decisions and find people who insist characters should always be approached from the lens of being fictional to be perhaps well-intentioned, but frequently rather elitist. Still, there is also value in approaching characters with the idea in mind that they are specifically designed beings who live in a specifically designed world that is presented through specifically designed framing. The framing of these two moments treats Ed leaving Stede as something serious, but Stede leaving Ed as being nearly catastrophic. This framing gets internalized by large portions of the audience, which affects how they feel about each of these actions, which can shape their moral judgement of the actions. And perhaps that was the intended message of the writers, or perhaps the comparison was intended to communicate something else, or perhaps the framing of each of these moments was intended to convey something about the moments themselves, but not in a way that would allow them to be directly comparable.

I'm afraid in all this I have no definite answers for you, Anon. All I can say is for my part, I do still consider Stede leaving Ed at the docks to be worse than Ed staying at the docks and failing to check on Stede. For, while there are aspects of each of these two decisions wherein Ed comes off worse, they are not enough for me to override the fact that Stede's actions were guaranteed to directly harm Ed whereas Ed's actions only had the potential to allow Stede to harm through inaction. As to comparing each of the moments where one of them leaves the other, I truly couldn't say, so I leave deciding which is worse as an exercise to the reader, presuming they find value in such a pursuit in the first place.

Next we come to the other accusations you level at Ed, some of which I feel have merit, but others of which I think are perhaps you allowing your affinity for Stede and desire to defend him get the better of you. Certainly there were occasions where Ed failed to stick up for Stede when, as a good friend and partner, he should have, but I think in your heart you know that it's not true that he never did. Otherwise, what would you call it when Ed stood between Stede and a firing squad and willingly signed away ten years of his life to the British Navy to save Stede?

In regards to Izzy, there is a scenario where Stede did not accept Izzy's challenge to a duel, and in that scenario it would indeed be Ed's responsibility to force Izzy to back down and fall in line. But once Stede accepted the challenge, it was taken out of Ed's hands. He could not force Izzy to bow out of the duel at that point without undermining Stede's own authority to accept the duel nor without communicating to all present that Ed has no faith in Stede and his abilities. Stede chose to accept the duel and Ed is obligated to honor those choices.

To the matter of Calico Jack, I have no defense that could excuse Ed's actions, nor do I have any wish to do so. Certainly a fair accounting of Ed's actions here should include consideration of Jack's manipulations of him and even that Stede's attempts to communicate his displeasure did happen to hit upon some of Ed's own insecurities, but none of that negates that Ed is a full grown man responsible for his own actions and choices and who was perfectly capable of realizing Stede was feeling hurt by what was going on and addressing it, but failed to do so.

And now to your last accusation, that Ed never listened to Stede and his feelings. I will say that I disagree with your specific claim that Ed ignored Stede's clear breakdown on the beach, because I do not see Stede's reaction there as being outwardly extreme enough to constitute a clear breakdown. However to your broader point that fandom in general has it backwards and the lack of communication between Ed and Stede, especially as concerns Stede's emotions, has more to do with Ed's failure to listen than Stede's failure to be open, I do very much agree and have enumerated on it at length, and plan to continue to do so in the future. I even agree that Ed ignored a clear breakdown that Stede was having, though I tie that to Stede's breakdown in episode 4 rather than the beach scene. It's very odd that the perception seems to be that Ed is emotionally open while Stede is not, when the reality is Stede frequently asks after how Ed is feeling, while Ed does not.

And in conclusion, Anon, I do have one last thought to offer in response to one of your comments:

I am so fucking sick of this fandom acting like Ed is somehow faultless and perfect when he treated Stede pretty fucking bad

Girl, same.

[idy-ll-ique]

One And Only.

Pairing: Mob Boss!Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Warnings: s*x

Requested: nope

Summary: Their marriage is for business purposes only but they fall in love. Until Y/N starts having a doubt... does Steve Rogers have a mistress? It's all a misunderstanding...

Author's Note: Hiya peeps, iw!Steve in this one. Enjoy!

---

"Hey, you doing okay?" Y/N turned away from the mirror and smiled at Natasha and Wanda. "As well as a bride could be minutes before her wedding," she jabbed, making the ladies chuckle. "It's going to be fine, Y/N, Steve will treat you well. We've been friends with him for years, one thing we know about him is that he never treats women wrong."

"I don't doubt that, it's just that— I met him a week ago. One time. I don't even know him, anything about him, other than the fact that he leads the most feared crime gang in the entire country," Y/N muttered, tugging at the sapphire necklace she was wearing. Something blue. "You will get to know him soon enough, though. Come on now, everyone is waiting."

Her father stood outside the door, a soft smile on his face. "You look lovely, honey," he cooed, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead as the two ladies sauntered past them into the Hall with their partners. "Thank you, papa." The two people walked into the Hall and everyone stood up to greet the bride. At the end of the aisle stood Steve, tall and proud, a huge smile on his face.

Y/N couldn't help but smile back. As soon as she reached near him her father let go, but not before pressing a kiss to her cheek. Steve took her hand and brought it to his lips when she stood in front of him. The priest standing next to them began his usual recitations; Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today… Y/N didn't really pay attention to his speech.

She was busy staring at Steve, who looked magnificent in an all black suit, his dirty blond hair and full beard making her feel all sorts of things. His smile softened a bit, also not listening to the priest. He was observing her. It was supposed to be purely transactional, the marriage, but he knew it wasn't gonna end like one. It would be a proper marriage.

Happily married.

She looked wonderful. He met her a week ago; a bit wary at the concept of merging two mobs by marriage but the moment he saw her, he knew he had to have her. She was his, no one else's. The two quickly exchanged their vows as the ring bearers came forward with the rings. The bride and the groom took the rings with smiles and turned to face each other.

"Steve Rogers, do you take Y/N Y/L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to her, for as long as you both shall live?" The priest turned to Steve expectantly.

"I do," Steve spoke, loud and clear, as he slipped the ring on Y/N's finger. Y/N had to admit, she felt a bit giddy when those words left his mouth.

"Y/N Y/L/N, do you take Steve Rogers to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health and forsaking all others, be faithful only to him so long as you both shall live?" Y/N smiled shyly at Steve. "I do."

Steve grinned widely when she neatly placed the ring on his finger. "You may now kiss the bride." And the whole room erupted into stentorian cheering as Steve gathered his wife in his arms, pressing his lips to hers in a deep kiss. Only when he heard a wolf-whistle coming from the crowd did Steve stop, pulling away to look at his out-of-breath wife.

"Mrs Rogers," he spoke fondly and she giggled. "Mr Rogers," she teased as they turned to the crowd, Y/N clutching Steve's arm as they smiled widely. Not many people had attended the impromptu wedding; just Steve's close friends and Y/N's father. Her bridesmaids were Natasha and Sharon, with Wanda being her maid-of-honor.

Steve's groomsmen were Sam and Tony, with Bucky being his best man. "Well, the first dance goes to the bride and her father, I'd say," Clint called out, already helping himself to a bottle of beer as music started playing. Steve reluctantly handed his wife over to her father, bidding her with a sweet kiss on her cheek.

"I hope you know why I had to do this, honey," her father sighed as they danced in the middle of the Hall. "I know, papa. Don't feel bad, I think I'm starting to like Steve. He seems friendly enough and Nat and Wan told me he's good to women." Her dad chuckled. "Well, he doesn't have the label of promiscuity that other leaders do." He was right.

Steve Rogers never really had time for dating, too busy leading the salient mafia. Also, the thought of having women just for a night or two didn't sit right with him, so he never went in that direction. "Can I have this dance now?" As soon as the song changed Steve appeared on her side, holding his hand out. She smiled and took his hand.

He easily slid an arm around her waist as the music slowed. One hand around her waist and the other holding her hand in classic ballroom dancing position, he pulled her closer. She rested her head on his chest, the arm which was around his neck lowering to his middle. "I'll treat you well," Steve whispered as they languidly swayed in the middle of the room.

"I know. If it's not much, um, I think I'd like to take things slow…" she hinted, hoping he'd notice. And he did. "Of course, of course, we can do that. I don't want to make you uncomfortable in any way," he assured her. "Thank you, Mr Rogers," she mumbled. "My pleasure, Mrs Rogers." The rest of the ceremony was enjoyable to say the least.

---

10 months had passed since the wedding.

Steve and Y/N were still taking things slow, against their own wishes.

It was a misunderstanding.

They loved each other; they really did, but they couldn't bring themselves to say the words to the other. Steve was purposely not making the first move, in fear that his wife would think he was rushing things. Y/N, on the other hand, had started severely doubting herself because 10 months have passed, does he not want to be with me anymore?

She was expecting him to make the first move, and he was expecting her to give him the permission first. It was annoying, to say the least. They were still friendly with each other, so Steve didn't pay much attention to the anxiety his wife was feeling. Y/N was beside herself with worry that had increased tenfold since... well, 15 minutes ago. She had overheard a conversation.

"So, how's Smith treating ya?"

"Same old, ya know. He has like 3 bitches as mistresses, thinks I don't know about 'em. Which mob man doesn't have a mistress in today's world, ha?"

"Preach, sister. I'd think even Rogers has one, heard somewhere that he and his little wife haven't even consummated their marriage. Probably doesn't even wanna be with her, he did marry her for the business."

"Mmhm, I agree. What about you, Lin?"

"Oh, Danny? Probably out there sleeping with Denise."

She didn't mean to eavesdrop on their personal conversation, but she couldn't help it. Mistress? She was familiar with the term, but what she was not familiar with was the fact that nearly all married mobsters had one. And when they mentioned Steve, she was done for. Crying, she had gone back to her room, collapsing on the bed, sobbing.

In her crying state, she failed to notice Steve also in the room as she raked her brain, thinking about all the times Steve had come home from work. He had given her no reason to believe that he had another woman, but what if he was just that good at hiding it? "Sweetheart? My love, why are you crying?" The bed dipped next to her.

Steve had just stepped out of the shower when his wife had thrown the door of their shared suite open, falling on the bed with a nerve-wracking sob. Why was she crying? "S-Steve…" she stammered and he pulled her on his lap, rocking her back and forth, getting her to calm down. It worked as Y/N's heart rate slowed down.

"Y/N, tell me, what happened? Who hurt you, tell me their names." Steve suddenly saw red at the prospect of someone hurting his wife. "N-No one hurt me, I just… I accidentally overheard a conversation I shouldn't have and—" She trailed off when her breath hitched. Steve soothingly rubbed her back, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

"What were they talking about?"

"Mistresses. One of the ladies said that nearly all mob men had mistresses and I— We haven't even consummated our marriage, haven't done anything besides kissing so I just thought— Do you have a mistress?" Her question shocked him. Him? Keeping a mistress when he had a wife he was head-over-heels for? "My darling, I love you."

She looked up at his words. "You do?" she mumbled, taking a deep breath. "Of course I do. The only reason I didn't say anything was because you told me, on the day of our wedding, that you wanted to take things slow. Before doing something, I needed your permission and that's why I haven't made a move on you." Y/N felt very silly all of a sudden.

"I'm so sorry for accusing you—"

He chuckled and shook his head. "Don't apologize to me, princess. Come here." He hugged her tightly, cradling the back of her head as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. "Do you know how many of my colleagues have asked me the same question?" She gently shook her head. "One too many. Do you know what I say to them each time?"

"No…"

"I say, why would I have a mistress when my wife makes me the happiest person on the planet? Why would I have a mistress when my wife is an angel personified? You guys are just jealous that she's mine and not yours." Y/N's skin burnt at his praise and she burrowed closer to him. "Steve," she muttered bashfully and felt him chuckle underneath her.

"Will you allow me to show you just how much I love you?"

"Yes."

He gently lowered her on the bed and hovered above her, one large hand coming to rest on her cheek. Then he made quick work of their clothes until they were bare in front of each other; Steve's eyes went wide with awe when he saw her body. "You are perfect," he declared, his warm hands grabbing every bit of skin it came in contact with as his lips touched her neck.

Y/N mewled underneath him when he shamelessly groped both her breasts, groaning. "So perfect. So beautiful. Only mine, my one and only," he whispered, pressing his lips to hers in a chaste kiss as he felt his shaft harden. "I love you," she blurted out as one of his hands found her core, his fingers scissoring her open, getting her ready for penetration.

"I love you too, my sweet," he smiled at her before lining his shaft against her core. He pushed in inch-by-inch, giving her some time to adjust to his size. He was bigger than anyone she had previously been with, much bigger. Y/N bit her lip to stifle a moan as he bottomed out inside her, grunting. "None of that," he rasped, "I want to hear you."

Y/N groaned when he lazily rotated his hips, not holding back, just like he asked. "That's it, baby girl. Just like that." He sped up inside her, grabbing the headboard of the bed, each snap of his hips sending waves of pleasure washing over Y/N. "Oh, Steve," she whimpered, her hands balling into fists around the bedsheets she was clutching, moving weightlessly against him.

"Are you close, my dear?" he growled when her walls clenched around him. She meekly nodded, throwing her head back as she tried to hold in. "Only one moment, love, I'm close too." His thrusts soon got sloppier. "Cum with me," he ground out before letting go, shooting his load inside her. Y/N came just moments later, her arms wrapping around Steve's shoulders when he slumped on her.

"There we go, our marriage is sealed," he joked and she laughed tiredly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Steve rolled off of her, smiling gently when he saw her drifting in and out of consciousness. "Go to sleep, I'm right here. I'll take care of you." He got up and walked to the closet, taking out a spare towel. Running it under some hot water, he sat next to her and cleaned her up.

Then he cleaned himself up, put on a pair of pyjama pants and lay down next to his sleeping wife, an automatic smile blooming on his face. He'd dreamed that their first time would be unforgettable, and it was, but he also wished it was… longer. God knew he was an insatiable man; but he also didn't want to pressure the woman he had grown to love.

There's always a next time, anyway.

"Sleep tight, my dear."

---

A/N: Leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading!

[thatstupidpotato]

POSSESSIVE MUCH // Katuski Bakugou//

synopsis: after being able to tolerate and date each other for a full three years, both the bakusquad and dekusquad decide to celebrate their last few days together:)

warnings: possessive y/n and curse words :)

this is my first time in tumblr:) and english is not my first language so i am sorry for all the errors:' anywayy i hope you enjoyy:)

cr: to the owner of the masterpiece:)

"Do you think he will ever man up?" Kirishima says as he looks at his friend blushing profoundly at his crush while screaming death threats at her at the same time and she looks as equally pissed and flustered. "Man it is giving me real headache seeing how oblivious they are about their feelings for each other."  Kaminari frowns as Bakugou raises his hands ready to blow his crush' face off. Now this was some free shit fucked up romance the bakusquad got to witness every day and if i am being honest? they would pay a thousand million dollar just to get away from them. For this shit show to end. For maybe Bakugou to man up and confess his feelings or for y/n to women up and do something about hers as Kirishima says. " Dang it mann i cannot see this anymore.... i will have to get myself involved now." Everybody looks at Mina for a split second and then looks back at the duo... currently Bakugou was desperately trying to push y/n away from him as she was very harshly pulling on his hair and kickin his legs. They could see a panicked Midoriya and Uraraka trying to prey their friend of off a very desperate explosive time bomb and Ilda telling them that if they don't stop fighting then he'd have to go get Aizawa sensei while doing his usual air chopping gesture. At the very mention of their teacher both the mentally frustrated teenagers quickly push themselves away from each other. They glare at each other as Midoriya pulls y/n by her wrist and while Bakugou makes his way towards his friends.

Bakugou scowls as he sits next to Kirishima and snatches his water and gulps everything down. " So now do YOU want our help or do you still think that you got it?" Sero smugly askes as Bakugou glares at him. Not directly being able to say he wants help Bakugou starts mumbling under his breath. "Bakubro you need to tell us to help you so we can actually help you and clearly you need help dude. You don't got this at all." Kiri can't help but laugh remembering the situation his friend was in a few moments ago. "Fine i need your help"

Y/n grunts as she sits down in a chair somewhere far away from the boy and his group of friends whoes hair she just nearly ripped of off.  "Why? i just need to know why you would treat the person you like like that. You just nearly made him go bald  y/n?!?!"  Now Uraraka was a very sweet and patient girl but seeing the way they treated each other was surely gonna be the last straw to her patience as well. "It's not me this time!! That piece of shit started it!" y/n points an accusing finger at Bakugou's direction. "WHY THE HELL ARE YOU POINTING A FINGER AT ME HUH YOU WORTHLESS BITCH?!!?!" "SEE!!"  This was going to be way more harder than they thought.

This was reallyy not that hard at all. And it was hard to believe at first but Bakugou being the desperate hot-head desperately trying to get his crush to actually like him back and not rip his hair was willingly cooperative. And y/n being a bold bitch that she was, she also willingly obeyed to everything her friends said. And now that leads to this current situation. Kirishima had briefly explained Bakugou what he was suppose to do and not do. Now he was patiently waiting for the girl to show up. Y/n on the other hand was ready to rip Bakugou's limps off his nicely built body. So apparently y/n was not willing to get out of her bed so Uraraka might have told her that Bakugou beat the shit out of Midoriya... well now that was chaos.

Let's not discuss in details how they both nearly killed each other. Just as y/n entered the room, Bakugou was ready to be sweet and cringe for the very first and the last time in his life but nah-uh. Y/n pounced on his and tackled him down. That was the last thing he expected to happen and this is Bakugou we are talking about so of course he fought back. Both dekusquad and bakusquad could only watch in pain as they once again indulged in a physical fight.

"WHAT THE HELL YOU CRAZY BITCH?!"

"YOU BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF IZUKU YOU MOTHERFUCKING FUCKED UP PIECE OF SHIT!!"

"WHAT THE HELL YA TALKIN' BOUT?? I NEVER TOUCHED THAT DAMN NERD!!"

and just like that Bakugou understood what the hell was happening. This came as a shock to everyone but before y/n could say anything else, Bakugou quickly ran up to y/n and put his lips on hers. Luckly Kaminari got everything on camera:)

So now here they were a few years later. They had just recently graduated and to celebrate their hard work they all had decided to go out. They were all at some club and y/n was tired of glaring at the damn fucking hoes who were shamelessly eye fucking her boyfriend. And Bakugou? oh boy he enjoyed watching his girlfriend shoot daggers at each and every girl who laid their eyes on him.  "I have a very bad feeling about this guys..."  Midoriya wasn't very wrong about that. If this continued for any longer you bet your ass y/n was gonna flip out and no one could stop her... "Midoriya chill out bro. I'm sure nothing will happen right... right Y/n???!!" Every inch of Kirishima shivered at the look on y/n's face.

"Ohh hoo i can't promise anything to you right now Kiri." y/n had this creepy smile and her brows were frowned as a group of girls make their way toward them. Each of them sitting in between one of the boys. These bitches be blind.  And then they openly started flirting making everyone in the table uncomfortable and making y/n more annoyed. 

slut flirting with Katsu - "hey there hot stuff. I am Britney and you are?" she got no answer back as Bakugou ignored her and foucsed on how y/n eyebrows were furrow real hard and she had a disgusted look on her face. Was this slut really doing this? they paid no damn attention as all the fucking sluts desperately tried flirting.

Y/n glances at Midoriya and see that the slut was now clinging onto him and how he couldn't do anything to prey her of off him and poor Uraraka looked in pain as the girl ignored her attempts to get her to get off her friend. Y/n flinched when that slut pushed Uraraka making her stumble a little, Kirishima caching her before she fell. Ok so that's it you bitch.

"Hey you bitch you just pushed my friend and i don't know what the hell you and your little slut friends are doing here because nunna us want any of you here. You're making all of my friends uncomfortable so leave before this takes a bad turn." to say that the slut girl looked a little scared was understandable. After all y/n did have a bad temper so everyone tried their best to stay at her good side. She slowly let go of Midoriya and he look really relieved. That slut girl looked at the girl behind y/n. The one that has been eye fucking Bakugou the moment he stepped his foot inside that club. Ok so everyone was holding their breath no one saying anything, too scared to speak. All the slut girls stopped doing their shit and just started at y/n who turned around and looked at the 'Britney' slut. Now Britney was not one to get scared easily it seems. Bitch looked y/n up and down before rolling her eyes at her and turning her attention at Bakugou again. "So tell me moree about yourself ~"

And what did Bakugou do? He stared her in the face real hard. Like a blank face just started at her. Britney flinched a little before shifting uncomfortably. Oh ho did that bitch get an idea on how to get into his pants. Britney slowly turned toward Bakugou and crossed her legs, he dress moving up just a little bit more. She put one hand on her lap while the other one lifts her glass as she takes a sip of her drink. So now i think what she wanted to do was make it look sexy? but did it? nah-uh. Everyone made a disgusted face at her attempt. By now the people around their table had their attention turned to them as well. Y/n was trying really hard to keep her anger at bay. After all they were gonna be heroes so they had to have a nice reputation and y/n didn't wanna drag the others with her. "Britney? honey? i don't really know what you think of yourself but right now not only me but everyone here can see how dumb and a little slut you look like. So if you don't wanna humiliate yourself anymore, my advice? You turn around and you leave." and then y/n gave her a sarcastic smile. Britney looked around and saw that now half of the people were looking at her. Oh honey Britney wasn't going down without a fight.  She smirks smugly at y/n " I am sorry? but who are you again. You don't look that important to me." yes now she had done the it. Everyone looked prepare to hold y/n back. Y/n once again laughs sarcastically before slowly walking up to her. "You just had to do it didn't you Britney? you don't realise who you messing with bitch. But let me tell you loud and clear. You know the boy who you've been eye fucking all this time? yeah i am his girlfriend and i am far more important than you will ever be." y/n leans down to her eye level, starting her right in the eye and she could see how embarrassed she looked. Right now? y/n really didn't care about their reputation. She had crossed the line. And honestly? i think it'd be humiliating for her to just walk away from Britney. She just looked down on the future hero so of course she had to do something right? Y/n stands up straight and everyone sighs a breath of relief because she's not gonna beat that bitch up so now they could leave without anyone getting hurt. But that's not all was it? y/n picks up Britney drink more like snatches it from her hands before examining it properly and pouring it on her. Everyone gaps before laughing at her. Britney looks at Y/n with so much rage and y/n just smirks at her. Britney stands up ready to throw a fist at her. But before she could even take a step Bakugou stands up and pulls y/n towards her before crashing his lips on hers. Y/n kisses back. Their lips moving together in sync. Bakugou licks her bottom lip before sucking on them hard making y/n gaps at the painful pleasure. Bakugou shoves his tongue inside her mouth, his tongue exploring the inside of her mouth. He pulls her closer to him as his hands travels down to her ass, squeezing it hard making y/n bite on his tongue as hee hand tugs on his hair harder making Bakugou grunt. Yes they were having a full on make out session in the middle of a club and everyone was looking at them in shock. Britney looked more than humiliated as she stool still. Her drink making her hair and clothes sticky as she stares at the couple making out. She could hear a few snickers directed at her. Bakugou pulls away first looking at her with his eyes all soft and whipped as he smiles softly at her. Pecking her lips hardly one last time, he smugly looks at that Britney bitch as his hands stay around his girlfriend. Did you really think he was gonna waste his breath on her? no.

Bakugou smirks at Britney, his hands dropping down to intertwine with his girlfriend.

"Come on babe filthy whores don't deserve this much attention. You're just wasting your breathing talking to trash." and then mr. hot stuffs winks and walks away pulling y/n with him, others following behind laughing at the shook Britney. Few minutes after they leave the club everyone erupts in laughter.  Someone from the crowd screams "MAN I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU JUST FLIRTED WITH THE FUTURE PRO HERO AND GOT MADE FUN OF BY ANOTHER FUTUR HERO" and all she could do now was run home and cry like a little pussy.

When they were back at the dorm y/n apologised for the way she behaved. "Chill y/n. You don't gotta be sorry. Infact it was really fun yk seeing her face." y/n smiled at all of them. Bakugou looks at y/n smugly "Possessive much?"

"Of course i am going to be possessive over you. You're mine."

________

that's all:) i hope you enjoyed:)

[whumpmatsus]

Hmm could do one where one one of boys has rough day, that leads to emotional overeating, and bellyache that they try to hide until they can't. Please and thank.

aaaaaa, lovely!

I went with Totty because it feels like I haven't written him in a while

and there's a tiny bit of Allmatsu, buuuut really it's mostly Cybermatsu :D

hope you like it, I had a lot of fun with it!

-

Most of the time, Totty thinks he does a pretty good job being composed at work.

However, that’s easy to do when the majority of the days are okay. Sometimes there’s a bad moment or two that he can recover from by the time he gets home; never before has it been an entire day full of nothing but bad moments.

Until today, of course.

It’s just been one awful thing after another. One of his brothers accidentally turned off the alarm clock, probably by hitting it or steadying themself against it while going to the bathroom… so he was late to work. When he finally got behind the register, there was already a decent-sized line and the early morning customers were irritable before their coffee. Nearly every single customer during his shift snapped at him in some way even when he was trying to be helpful.

His coworkers were less than pleasant, especially after a couple hours when one of them had to take over for him because he had to go pee. To make things worse, toward the end of the day he managed to smash his fingers in the cash drawer while closing it.

The highlight of the day was when he was on his way out and a customer wanted help. Company policy being that he wasn’t allowed to work in any way while he was off the clock, he told them he was actually heading home and pointed to one of his coworkers. Which apparently wasn’t good enough, as he was accused of being lazy and not wanting to do his job and told that the customer was going to talk to his manager and have him fired.

Is it any wonder he’s spent almost the whole train ride home in tears? It hasn’t been a great day to be Matsuno Todomatsu.

He feels a little better by the time he gets home, but he’s exhausted and overwhelmed by everything that went wrong. Part of him wants to find one of his brothers and bitch his heart out. The other part just wants to shove food into his mouth and pretend none of it ever happened.

Sutabaa allows employees to eat some of the cheap things for free during their break, which Totty doesn’t often take advantage of. He’d rather have a snack at home so he doesn’t have to scarf it down in ten minutes. Today, though, he managed to put away a chocolate croissant plus a couple of cookies, so he shouldn’t be hungry at all when he gets home.

And he’s not… really hungry. He just wants to eat something for the sake of it, so that maybe eating something tasty will make it seem like nothing went wrong today. The food during his break made things seem better for a minute while he ate it. All he wants is more of that feeling, to make believe it wasn’t such a bad day.

He doesn’t know where any of his brothers are, and he doesn’t particularly care. He doesn’t think he’d give half a shit if one of them walked in on him raiding the fridge and pantry as if he’s preparing to hibernate through the winter. They all stuff their faces at any available opportunity, so why would it be surprising to find him doing it, especially after a long day at work which none of the rest of them do?

It doesn’t even really matter to him what he’s eating, either. Just things that don’t require too much time between being in his hand and sliding down his throat.

There’s about a portion’s worth of takoyaki left in the fridge from dinner last night, so he finishes that off. Some daifukumochi that was in the cabinet, along with a packet of konpeitō. A bag of arare disappears pretty quickly, too. He doesn’t really know if the imagawayaki that was sitting on the counter was left for him or if it was a single treat that nobody had fought over yet ― regardless, he eats it anyway.

Each bite is a violent attempt to deny the shittiness of this whole day. It all tastes delicious, so he can lose himself inside it for a moment. What never really occurs to him is that every moment doesn’t last too long, and even though his stomach isn’t built for this kind of eating, he’s reaching for another snack as soon as the last one has dissolved on his tongue.

He throws packaging away as he goes, just to keep things neat. He’s just biting into his latest snack when someone else walks into the kitchen, and looking up, it turns out to be Choromatsu.

“O-oh, hey, Totty, you’re home. How was work?” He starts ducking into the refrigerator, then suddenly straightens up and gives his youngest brother a curious look. “… Uh. That’s my Big Katsu. Why are you eating it??”

Given that his teeth are currently sunk into it, Totty feels a little guilty. So at least he doesn’t have to fake the expression on his face. “Oh… sorry, Choro-nii-san! I’m just really hungry… I’ll buy you another one tomorrow.”

After a moment, Choromatsu sighs, evidently deciding to let Totty off the hook rather than fight with him about it. “Yeah, that’s fine. I was saving it, but if I haven’t craved it this long, I can wait. There’s other stuff I can have for a snack.” He opens the refrigerator door and pulls out a single mini carton of milk, then frowns. “Hey, wasn’t there some leftover takoyaki in here?”

He huffs as he closes the fridge. “Dammit. Osomatsu probably ate the rest of it while I wasn’t paying attention, the douche.”

He shakes his head and gets in the pantry for a bag of potato chips instead. “Guess these’ll do till dinner. Hey, Totty, you’re probably still hungry, right? Why don’t you share with me? I’m not starving or anything… half a bag would do it for me, I think.”

Totty’s stomach twinges suddenly, alerting him that he may have eaten too much. He’s not used to shoveling down this much at one time, though the realization that he’s uncomfortably full doesn’t stop him from hurriedly cramming the rest of the Big Katsu into his mouth.

And, honestly, it’s not like he can say no to the offer. He just told his big brother he was hungry and he’s been gulping down food at an insatiable pace. Thinking about the taste of potato chips sort of makes him want some.

Plus… Choromatsu is being nice by sharing, despite the fact that Totty already took one of his snacks without even asking. It would be mean to turn that down when he’s just trying to make sure Totty gets fed properly.

So he plasters a smile on and tosses the wrapper before stepping toward his older brother. Everything’s fine. “Ah, yeah… sounds good.”

-

Everything is not fine.

Dinner is beginning to be a struggle to get through. Totty hates wasting the food, but his thought is to put it away for later when his stomach isn’t actively trying to kill him. The pain is different to anything he’s ever experienced, a feeling like he’s full all the way up to his chest and so can’t get a decent breath in. He feels cold and clammy even though he knows he’s sweating. In short, it sucks.

The one thing he counted on was his brothers not noticing that he wasn’t eating anything. After sharing the chips with Choromatsu, he started to feel like he was going to burst. Even though the sensation quieted down a little bit, it never quite went away.

Now that he’s been faced with a table full of food, it’s even worse. His stomach is gurgling and swirling and nothing helps. Not taking deep breaths through his nose, not taking tiny sips of his tea, not focusing on any other thoughts. Nothing. It’s all useless. He thinks that as soon as dinner is over, he’s gonna have to go throw up. No ifs, ands, or buts; one way or another, he’s gonna be sick.

His only hope now is that he can ride it out long enough for everyone to head their separate ways so he doesn’t have to face the humiliation of admitting that he ate too much and hurt his stomach.

“U-uh, Totty,” Choromatsu speaks up suddenly, “aren’t you gonna eat anything? You were hungry enough to eat my Big Katsu earlier, I’d have thought you were really looking forward to dinner.”

Ugh. Did he have to???

Totty forces a smile onto his face. “Oh, yeah, I… I guess I’m just not in the mood for this stuff tonight, you know?”

The look on Osomatsu’s face could be mistaken for someone who’d just swallowed a lemon. “What?! But Totty, this is your favorite! You’re not gonna eat any of it? You can’t just skip meals like that, dude.”

“Yeah,” Ichimatsu hums thoughtfully. “You’re not gonna be any more healthy or attractive if you’re starving, you know.”

Geez. His brothers are so fucking embarrassing. Choromatsu is giving him some backhanded concern, Osomatsu is overzealous as usual, and Ichimatsu sounds like a Goddamn after-school special.

Karamatsu, meanwhile, is scrutinizing him just the same. “Yes, Totty, my brother… you look rather pale. You really should eat something!”

“Yeah, yeah!” Jyushimatsu practically launches himself over the table, holding a bite of food from his own plate between chopsticks toward his little brother’s mouth. “Here! Winding up for the pitch… batter uuuuuup!”

“Ughhhhh!” Totty leans back, even though any movement unsettles his stomach further. “You guys are ridiculous! I’m fine! W-what, am I not allowed to have just lost my appetite without every single one of my big brothers making a federal case of it?!”

All the others share a silent look, then there comes a unanimous, “Nope.”

He groans and leans his arm against the table. Shit, it’s getting worse. All he wants to do is run to the bathroom and puke, so that maybe he’ll actually feel better. If he does that, though, everyone will be on his case about how much he ate instead of how little he’s eating right now. He doesn’t need nor want a lecture.

Actually, what he wants more than anything is to just be taken care of and told that it’s okay, he screwed up a bit, it’s not the end of the world. That would require confessing to this stupid mistake, though… and he really doesn’t want to do that. He’s so sure that if he does, he’s just going to get scolded instead of comforted.

When he looks around the table again, he notices that Choromatsu in particular looks worried. “C’mon, Totty. You know we care about you. Osomatsu and Ichimatsu are right; it’s not healthy to skip meals.”

“Dammit, I know that, Fappymatsu! Just because I’m pretty doesn’t mean I’m stupid.” Totty scowls down at the food before lifting his eyes back up. “If I take one bite, will you all get off my back?”

He hates that those words just came out of his mouth. Even if it’s just a single bite, he doesn’t think his stomach will be happy with him. The idea of eating anything isn’t sitting well with him.

What else can he do, though? Just like with literally everything else, his brothers won’t stop bugging him until he caves in and does whatever they want.

The others exchange a look and Osomatsu shrugs. “Yeah, that should do it! Maybe after you take a bite you’ll realize how good it is and how hungry you are.”

Shit. Well, now he doesn’t really have a way out.

He takes as deep a breath as he feels he can, and collects a bite of food with his chopsticks. Although he isn’t sure how noticeable it is, it feels like his hand is shaking as he raises it to his lips.

Maybe it’s better to do it fast and get it over with. So, that’s what he does. The food in his chopsticks disappears in rapid time, and even though it feels like swallowing a spoonful of glue, he manages to get it down.

“Th-there,” he announces as he slams his chopsticks down. A hiccup squeaks out of him, followed by a fist pressed to his mouth, then he glares around the table at his brothers. “Ha… happy now? God, you guys are… you’re such… such…”

His stomach roils aggressively, almost like he’s just been punched in the gut. He cuts himself off with a loud, painful belch… and whines softly, because he knows what’s coming next. There’s no possible way he can stop it, nor can he get up fast enough to make it to the bathroom.

He tries to clap his other hand over his mouth in some childish belief that if he just blocks the exit, so to speak, he won’t be sick. Predictably, it doesn’t work.

Only a second and a couple of retches later, Totty has vomited through his hands into his lap. It’s perhaps more than a little ironic that his attempt to avoid lectures and feeling shameful has led to something incredibly humiliating.

The tears well up almost immediately, and it doesn’t take long for him to be sitting here coughing, not quite knowing what to do except cry.

“A-ah, Totty!!” Someone’s up from their seat, grabbing him gently by the shoulders. It sounds like Choromatsu, he thinks. “Hey… hey, it’s okay. O-oh, no, no, guys, it’s okay ― yeah, Mom, Dad, it’s fine, I-I’ve got him. Totty, hey, c’mon. I’m gonna help you to the bathroom and we’ll get you cleaned up. Okay?”

All he can do is nod, and it seems like even the fact that he leans against Choromatsu, all streaked with puke, doesn’t bother his brother.

It’s a short walk to the bathroom. He thinks he hears one of the others getting up to clean whatever mess he’s left behind. He just concerns himself with getting into the bathroom, then with lifting his arms when told so Choromatsu can help peel the soiled clothes off.

“It’s okay, Totty. E-everything’s alright.” His voice is low and gentle as he manages to also get Totty’s pants off, hanging everything over the side of the bathtub. If he’s lucky, one of the others will come rinse them off so they can go right in the wash while he tries to take care of getting Totty situated on the couch or something. “I’m gonna take care of you. You just cry as much as you need to, as long as you cooperate with me, okay?”

Totty sniffles, doing his best to stop crying. This is so embarrassing. “O-okay…”

Eventually the crying tapers off a bit, to the point that he can breathe normally again. His mouth has a bad taste and his throat hurts; at least his stomach feels a lot better, though. He’s just so mortified that he threw up on himself in front of his entire family after trying to save himself from this fate.

What did you think was gonna happen when you ate something else after already being stuffed and nauseous, dummy?? His mind is exactly no help at all, unfortunately.

Choromatsu is careful as he tries to get his little brother cleaned. As soon as all his dirty clothes are off, he wipes a wet cloth over Totty’s mouth to wash off any remnants of vomit and helps Totty wash his hands in the sink. He holds a couple pieces of toilet paper over Totty’s nose so he can blow, which makes him feel slightly less gross.

Once there’s no more danger of new clothes having leftover puke dripped on them, he darts out to the closet in the other room and comes back with a pair of Totty’s pajamas. It feels somuch better to be in fresh clothes after Choromatsu gingerly tugs them on.

With all of that done, Choromatsu sets a hand against Totty’s forehead and gives a contemplative hum. “Well, you don’t feel warm… you might still be coming down with something, though. I think maybe you should just go right to bed. We’ll get you settled on the couch in the other room so that hopefully the rest of us don’t catch it, and I’ll get you some ginger ale or something, okay?”

The idea of all that sounds nice, sure. He feels a little guilty for not being honest, however, so… “Um, Choromatsu-nii-san… I-I’m not… I’m not sick. I… I think I ate too much today, and… that bite I took out there was just kind of… th-the last straw, you know?”

Choromatsu frowns. “You ate too much? You said you were really hungry when you got home. And all I remember seeing you eat was my Big Katsu and some of the chips.”

“I ate a lot more than that,” he confesses, rubbing at his teary eyes. “There was some stuff I had while I was at work, a-and… and I was the one who ate the last of the takoyaki. I was just going through the fridge and the cupboards for a while before you walked in.”

“Oh… okay, I get that. Why didn’t you just tell us you overate today instead of forcing yourself to eat?”

More tears bubble up and start rolling down his cheeks. “B-because… because I thought if I did, you’d all just lecture me and tell me, ‘Oh, you shouldn’t do that, Totty!’ The day was so bad already…”

The more he talks, the more tears fall. “It was just one thing a-after another! Work was shitty, everything that could go wrong did,and I didn’t want you guys harping on me! I-I know I fucked up eating a lot, but doing it just… made me feel better for a minute… like the day wasn’t so crappy, like I could pretend everything was okay because I was eating something good. So I just… d-didn’t wanna tell you guys… I-I know you’d say it’s bad for me…”

Quietly, Choromatsu pulls Totty up off the toilet and into a hug. His hand rubs calmingly between his little brother’s shoulder blades, shortly after switching to a series of pats. “Hey, you learned your lesson. I know you think we’d give you some big speech… and maybe you’re not wrong. But I’m sorry it felt like you had to hide it and suffer on your own. That’s not what we want! We just wanna take care of you. If we lecture like that, it’s just because we love you.”

“I-I know,” Totty mumbles into Choromatsu’s shoulder. “Are you… are you mad at me? For doing it in the first place and for not telling you?”

“Mad? No! No, no, no way. I’m not mad!” Choromatsu presses a brief kiss to the top of Totty’s head. “You’re my baby brother. How could I be mad at you for this? Just… you know… next time, come talk to us instead of going to the food. I’d rather listen to you complain for hours than have you eat yourself sick.”

He gives a cautious squeeze, somewhat reassured when Totty squeezes back. They stay like this for a few minutes, with Totty burying his face against Choromatsu’s shoulder and Choromatsu rubbing Totty’s back.

Finally Choromatsu lets out a sigh. “Just so you know… even if we lecture you a little, we’ll still try to take care of you if there’s anything we can do. But we’ll… also do our best not to lecture as much when you come to us. Do you feel any better?”

“Yeah… it doesn’t hurt that much anymore.” He mirrors the sigh and just sinks into his big brother’s embrace. “Can I still go lie down, though? In the futon?”

Choromatsu nods and pulls Totty up when he gets to his feet. “Yeah, of course. That’s probably a good idea even though you’re not really sick.”

“And… can I still have some ginger ale?”

“Yeah, I’ll get that for you after we get you settled.”

Totty is silent for a few seconds while they walk down the hall, then he speaks up again. “… Will you maybe stay and cuddle with me for a minute, too? Even though I’m not sick?”

Choromatsu glances down before chuckling. Does he really think he has to tack on that condition, as if Choromatsu won’t cuddle just because Totty isn’t actually sick? “I… o-of course, Totty. All you have to do is ask, even if you’re not sick.”

“Okay…” By this time they’ve reached the bedroom, so he stands aside while Choromatsu unrolls the futon. Before too long he’s lying down, and Choromatsu has both arms around him, gently stroking his hair.

He closes his eyes and nuzzles against his brother. “Thank you… you’re the best nii-chan ever.”

He can feel Choromatsu grinning. “Am I even better than leftover takoyaki?”

Totty pouts at the jab, but snuggles closer regardless. “Way better.”

[myhaikyuuthings]

Wanted

request: no

listen to this while reading: here

a/n: yes i realize i link a lot of country songs, its funny because i rarely listen to country music. anyways! not too sure how i feel about this but i had to get it out of my head, i couldn’t write anything else until i did oof

pairing: Tendou x reader

wc:1322

warning: angst, mutual pining, fluff,  happy ending

You lay on Tendou’s bed, waiting patiently for Ushijima to finish with the newest jump so you can read it before your friend gets back. Tendou had stepped out to get take out for the three of you, effectively leaving you with his roommate and a wink that you have spent too much time over analyzing. 

“Hey,” you speak, catching Ushijimas attention, “can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Does Satori like me?” you asks, trying to keep the hopeful tone out of your voice. 

“Well yes, he wouldn’t be friends with someone he doesn’t like,” he responds, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. 

“No like..” you sigh, dropping back onto your back, “like a crush.”

Before he can respond, the door’s opening and Tendou is passing around the food with a big smile. Ushijima goes to respond anyways but when you shake your head no, he drops it thankfully. The rest of the night has an underlying tension to it, all of you acutely aware. You tell them goodnight, returning to your dorm before it gets any weirder. 

-

Over the next few days, you pay close attention to how Tendou acts around you. Admittedly, you don’t have much to compare it to. You two are closer than he is with Ushijima, and he treats the other man very similar to how he treats you. It finally hits you by the sixth day, you’re just going to have to ask him up front what the wink was about.

“Satori,” you mumble, poking at your food instead of meeting his eyes. At his hum, you continue, “Why did you wink when you left the other night?”

“Oh, it was like a good luck wink,” he shrugs, taking a bite of his food. You tilt your head in confusion, just staring at him before he sighs, “For asking out Wakatoshi? Hello, what else would it be for?”

“Oh.” 

His words hurt more than you let on, your heart tightening in your chest. You have liked your friend for a little over a year, keeping it to yourself to avoid rejection and having to feel this exact thing. Surely it would hurt less to be outright rejected than for him to be so supportive of you dating Ushijima. 

“Oh? What did you not tell him?!” He says, putting down his chopsticks and looking at you like you grew a second head. “I even took the long route so you could get up the courage!”

“I don’t like Ushijima,” you sigh, figuring it truly can’t feel any worse than it does. 

“Then why did you want to be my friend?” He asks so nonchalantly you nearly choke. His eyes hold genuine curiosity as he waits for your answer. 

“You’re cool Satori, I wanted to be your friend because you’re cool. I didn’t become friends with you to get close to him, no offense he’s a great guy, but I wanted to know you,” you explain, feeling just as confused as him. “Why would I want to use you like that?”

“That’s what everyone does.” With a shrug, he finished his last bite of food and slung his bag over�� his shoulder. “I’ve gotta get to practice, but I’ll see you later.”

-

You went to his room that night, a frown on your face and determination in your heart. Having spoken to Ushijima earlier, you learned just how many people had used the man you loved to get close to Ushijima. It broke your heart. Knocking on their door, you felt the hesitation start to creep in. 

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Tendou asked, letting you into the room. As soon as Ushijima saw you, he left the room saying he needed to practice. “We just left practice, what the hell.”

“Satori, sit down please,” you pointed to his desk chair, pacing slightly. 

He sat down, smiling slightly. “You’re not about to confess your love for me or something are you?”

“There’s a reason they call you the guess monster,” you joked, rubbing the back of your neck. 

“Very funny joke, what’s really up?” he laughed humorlessly, his chest tightening. 

See, Satori has loved you for a long time, probably longer than you have loved him. The problem is, he still sees himself as the monster everyone used to call him. There was no way anyone could love him like that, let alone someone as wonderful as you. When he was sure you liked Ushijima, it hurt but at least he knew you would stay in his life even if you were rejected like all the others. He was content just to love you like this. 

“I’m not  joking.”

“Okay it’s not that funny the second time around,” he said, standing from his chair and moving to place his hands on your shoulders. “Something’s up, you can tell me.”

“Tendou Satori I love you, that’s what’s up,” you huffed, ignoring the blush on your cheeks, “when you accused me of liking Ushijima I decided I had to tell you, I’ve loved you for almost a year now.”

“You’re taking it too far,” he whispered, “I know you don’t love me, you can’t love me i’m a monster.” 

You stood frozen, trying to process his words. You knew about his childhood, but you always assumed he was past that. He acted like he was past that. There is something worse than the pain from before, and that was realizing just how he really saw himself.  You felt the tears sliding down your cheeks as your heart broke for him. Without a second thought, you cupped his face and brought his lips to yours. 

He jumped at the sudden touch, his eyes wide open. You pulled him closer, trying to convey your feelings with your kiss. He closed his eyes, finally allowing himself to melt into the feeling of your lips on his. Your hands move to his hair, tangling in his bright red locks, his hands resting on your hips. You lost yourself in the kiss, only pulling back when you needed air. 

“Do you believe me now?” You panted, resting your head against him.

“I don’t understand why you do, but I am so happy that you love me too.” 

-

It took a long time for him to really accept that you loved him. Him. He didn’t get it, even years later. You reminded him every chance you could, and he was so grateful for you. Still, his insecurities got the best of him sometimes.

“They couldn’t all be wrong Y/N! I’m a monster, at least to them,” he snapped, growing tired of the same fight you two always had. He would make some off handed comment about how you were too good for a monster and you would always counter it. 

“Fine! You want to be a monster so badly, then I guess that makes me a monster fucker!” you growled, your fists clenched at your sides as you stared him down. “I’m just somebody who’s in love with a monster! Monster fucker of the year! I want to marry a monster! Look at me!”

“You want to marry me?” he whispered, his anger subsiding at your words. 

“Stop thinking you’re a monster and we’ll get married right now,” you huff, taking his hands in yours. “I just want to make you feel the way you make me feel.”

“You do-”

“No. I don’t, not if you still feel like a monster,” you cut him off, “you make me feel like the luckiest, most beautiful person in the world. Like there’s no one in the world who could ever be better for you than me, like I’ve found the person who will love every bit of me for the rest of my life.”

“i’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, let me love you and help you heal from this. You deserve to love yourself the way I do. Let me help you feel wanted.”

[crossdressingdeath]

if their genders were reversed JFM would 100% be viewed as an abuse victim. like whether he is or not, if he was a woman and madam yu a man, people would be far more sympathetic

i know everyone gets frustrated at or hates overly passive characters but,, arguing with her gets nowhere. she can't be reasoned with. ignoring her is the marginally better option because even someone as batshit as madam yu can only spend so long shouting at someone who isn't responding, and i'm pretty sure if he divorced her, her reputation would be wrecked, where would she even go? i don't think she /would/ willingly go anyway. she's not going to give up her position and her favourite punching bag.

there's just no pleasing madam yu?? jfm tries his best to just ignore her. she even has separate living quarters, but she can't help but go out of her way to stir crap up.

like when wwx woke up after xuanwu cave, what was she doing?!? she came to his sick bed just to start an argument and accuse wwx's mother of cheating,, while he's laying in his sickbed,, wtf is wrong with her??

and what was jfm supposed to do? he tries to not respond to her provocations, but she doesn't stop

can you imagine if he even tried to say 'lets not argue here, a-ying is still sick' ?? she would blow tf up again, bc how dare jfm show even the slightest degree of consideration for wwx right??

like its easy to get frustrated with jfm but there's just no winning with her, unless he just straight up throws her out of lotus pier. which he probably /should/ have done long ago.

ok i got curious and looked it up and apparently in ancient china there were only 7 specific reasons you were allowed to divorce a wife, and unfortunately 'being a huge bitch' isn't one of them. so i guess jfm couldn't even to that.

anyway obviously jfm isn't perfect or even,, that great but madam yu is just an entirely impossible person to deal with. some of us are unfortunate enough to know a madam yu irl and with people like her, you can not do a single thing without it being twisted into something else.

Oh, he could have divorced YZY. Jealousy and talking too much are both listed as grounds for divorce on the website I found. Like, it’s sexist, but he could’ve done it. He had that power. If nothing else he could probably have locked her into permanent seclusion for... y’know, slander and abuse of her authority over his disciples and such. As a man in a patriarchal society there were a lot of ways he could’ve stopped YZY. Yes, his marriage made him miserable, but he could have shut her right the fuck down if he just grew a fucking spine and did it. So like. JFM isn’t entirely a victim in this, he was passive to the point of refusing to use his power to do something about the situation. Ignoring her... is honestly kind of selfish; he’s deciding to stand down and let YZY do whatever she wants to avoid making things more awkward for him when “whatever she wants” includes whipping a child for being the son of a woman she hated.

Basically... yes, YZY was impossible to deal with. There was no winning with her. She went out of her way to make things horrible for everyone around her to the point of showing up in the room where WWX is recovering from nearly dying specifically to hurl abuse at him and at JFM for paying attention to him. But acting like JFM had no way out when everyone knew she treated him like shit (thereby giving him grounds for a divorce or at least forcing her into seclusion) and he did nothing... is no more accurate than saying he’s at fault for everything that happened in the family because he “let” YZY hurl abuse at everyone around her all the time.

[seventhstrife]

SubScorp Week 2021 Day 2: Scars

Ayyy, Day 2!!! I loved seeing everyone’s fics/art yesterday and I can’t believe it, but I think I’m obssessing over subscorp MORE, somehow??? which I didn’t think was possible lol.

Fic’s getting posted later in the day because the subscorp server is merciless and wouldn’t stop plaguing me with god tier content lololol

Read it on AO3.

"So this is how the Lin Kuei Grandmaster treats his allies?"

Hanzo held the tattered remains of his gi, split nearly in two from a deft slice of Kuai Liang's ice blade. He'd dodged, but while he'd avoided bloodshed, his clothing had not escaped so easily.

Kuai Liang hid his pleasure beneath an affable shrug as he pulled a spare change of clothes from his armoire.

"If you would prefer I hold back, you need only say so," Kuai Liang teased. "I suppose losing so often must grow tiresome."

Their spar had been as invigorating and challenging as ever, but it had become habit by now to stop by Kuai Liang's chambers once they finished. They often allowed their elements to run wild in an effort to gain the upper hand, and torn clothes tended to become casualties in their eagerness. Kuai Liang had invested in many more plain black or white robes since their alliance, as Hanzo always sneered so mightily whenever he tried to offer him a garment in proud Lin Kuei blues.

Hanzo, standing in the center of the room as he patiently waited for the spare clothes, narrowed his eyes.

"Perhaps I am the one who must hold back," Hanzo said, "I must have hit you once too hard for such blatantly ridiculous words to fall from your lips."

"Are you accusing me of lying, Hanzo?"

"I am accusing you of delusion. Perhaps insanity."

As Hanzo spoke, he shrugged off his torn gi and the retort Kuai Liang had ready died on his tongue.

It was far from the first time that he'd seen Hanzo's bare skin, but the sight never failed to coax a quiet appreciation from him. Muscled and powerful, Hanzo cut an impressive figure, but the marks that laid scattered across his torso commanded Kuai Liang's attention more than anything else.

From thick welts to harsh, jagged tears, pockmarks and skin discolored from wounds mistreated before they could heal properly, Hanzo's skin held a wealth of battles hard-won and lost, of a lifetime of pain and fighting and incredible, staggering endurance. Often, the urge to trace each one, to worship Hanzo's body and pay homage to each proof of survival, seized him, and it overcame him once more, though he held back.

Hanzo, however, noticed his staring. He paused, eyebrow raised.

"What?"

Kuai Liang left the change of clothes behind, came close enough to touch and brushed the back of his fingers over a long scar that trailed from the top of Hanzo's shoulder down to the center of his chest.

"So many scars," Kuai Liang murmured. Hanzo's eyes dropped, following the same path as Kuai Liang's eyes across his chest, where marks were so numerous they often overlaid one another in a thick lattice. "You have survived a great many ordeals."

Hanzo didn't speak for a moment. He lifted a hand, turned it over so his open palm hovered between them. His gaze was for the scar in the center of his palm, a thick line that stretched between his middle fingers.

"Most are from my time in the Netherrealm," he said, and Kuai Liang felt a dull ache in his chest. Torture, Hanzo meant.

"I am sorry." The words were trite, useless, but all he had.

Hanzo didn't look at him, eyes worse than blank: dead.

"I did not feel it," he confessed simply, hollow.

Kuai Liang cursed himself; he recognized that look on Hanzo's face, one that had appeared far too often in the time since their alliance. Hanzo had overcome much of his guilt, but he was not immune to random bouts of the feeling, of the familiar darkness that always threatened to swallow him should he let his guard down even slightly.

His time as Scorpion had been like an eternity of living as a raw, exposed nerve that never stopped bleeding, he'd once confessed. Constant pain and anguish without so much as a sliver of hope on the horizon.

To be so consumed in grief and misery that even the worst tortures of Hell could not reach him—Kuai Liang might live a hundred years and he would never understand such a feeling. He prayed he never would.

Kuai Liang took Hanzo's hand, curled another around Hanzo's neck so that he could bring him closer and lean their heads together.

"I am sorry," he rumbled, tracing the warm skin of Hanzo's neck. "I should not have spoken of it."

Hanzo tensed for only an instant; almost just as quickly, he sighed and Kuai Liang could feel the way his body sank against him, loosed of the tension that had crept over him at the reminder of his past.

One hand encircled Kuai Liang's wrist while the other came to rest on his waist.

"No, it is fine. You may ask whatever you wish." His hand trailed up, cupped Kuai Liang's cheek for a brief moment before his fingers gently alighted on the thick scar that bisected Kuai Liang's eye. "I am not the only one who bears marks of a hard life."

"Mine was borne of incompetence," Kuai Liang argued, and he could not keep a note of frustration from his voice. It irked, even to this day, to remember how he'd allowed the attack by letting his guard down. His pride might never fully recover.

"Raiden sent you to the temple without the information you needed. You could not have predicted what would happen."

"A common mercenary attacked me and lived; that failure is mine alone."

"Hmph," Hanzo hummed, and Kuai Liang could hear the amusement in the sound. "A sensitive subject, I see." He stroked his fingers through Kuai Liang's hair, affectionate and doting. "We have nowhere to be. Perhaps it is time we paid the Black Dragon a visit," he offered.

Kuai Liang chuckled, grateful Hanzo seemed successfully coaxed from his painful memories.

"You would risk starting a war with the Black Dragon simply to assuage my pride?"

Hanzo's nose wrinkled. "You said so yourself, they are common mercenaries." Hanzo dismissed. He seemed insulted by the very idea that the Black Dragon could pose a legitimate threat. "There is no contest."

"Hm." Kuai Liang wrapped his arms around Hanzo's waist, brought their bodies flush. "Perhaps for a rainy day."

"As you wish," Hanzo agreed, smiling. His dark eyes held a familiar heat that made Kuai Liang's heart jump. "We should be working," Hanzo pointed out, though he made no move to separate himself.

Kuai Liang held him tighter anyways, against the very possibility of any distance between them.

"Nothing that can not wait, Grandmaster."

[formulatrash]

Lewis just got his 7th title. I'm happy for him.

Me too. What Lewis has done is so almost incomprehensibly titanic, in any sport, that it feels like something that needs contextualising again and again.

It’s easy, if you remember Lewis in the hybrid era, in Mercedes, since Rosberg left - whatever the recency is that creates the illusion it’s almost straightforward for him to perform at this extraordinary level - to minimise his achievements, even if you don’t intend to. Lewis now is a force of nature so impossible to rival that it wouldn’t really matter if you gave everyone GP3 cars and told them to go, the rest of the field would just be closer together behind him. 

I am, as Tumblr constantly likes to remind me, very old - nearly as old as Lewis himself - so I remember him arriving in the junior formulas and hoping that he’d get to F1. He was goofy and nerdy and awkward and a bit of a gamer - actually way more like Lando than you’d believe, in retrospect but he had this burning, furious defiance that he was going to get there and win. Because that was what he needed, to overcome the barriers and my god, there were a lot of people openly saying what they try to at least code these days, back then.

Lewis when he was young was a Verstappen-esque firecracker of teammate beef. I don’t know that anyone other than maybe Max could have taken on Alonso, at that point, in his junior year - he’d destroy Nelson Piquet Jr, despite all his weight of racing heritage, the next - and it took a level of pretended self-assurance that I don’t think Lewis had, then, at all.

He’d proven himself all the way up, was still proving it. Licking his and McLaren’s wounds, meekly apologising after the end of the spygate scandal he’d had nothing to do with while Fernando pranced off from the smouldering remnants, there were plenty of people who were so pleased to see Lewis humbled. 

He took the championship, instead. Which made a lot of people very angry, despite really it only being Felipe Massa who had a right to be. It was very underrated, in the British press; made more striking because Jenson Button’s win, the following season, really wasn’t and the ludicrous bar that Lewis would have to jump to prove himself was moved again.

Not just good enough for F1. Not just good enough to take on a two-time champion. Not just good enough to become a champion himself in his second season. Lewis was regarded as a sort of curious celebrity most people barely considered an athlete or British, in the press.

He’s never gone a single season without winning a race. Even in dog cars, biding his time for an opportunity. Olden times McLaren was a different, dysfunctional beast to the one Andreas Seidl has somehow steered back to success and especially the Dennis era was run with a pretty iron fist* so it wasn’t necessarily somewhere the drivers had much ability to steer developing the car and you can see how badly that affected them in the KERS and ERS era. 

Comparatively, joining Mercedes, Lewis walked into an opportunity where instead of having to furiously fight for that, he could work on it as a project for the whole team. People really underestimate how hard he works, in terms of factory hours and how it wasn’t always the fastest car. 

The team pitted him and Nico against each other to force the project forwards and that turned into a destructive mess, backfiring on them quite badly. It’s probably the worst call Mercedes have made, in their modern F1 existence, although a cynic would say: it worked.

Yes, they trod a line of near-implosion for years that was only steadied by Nico’s retirement but they became, unquestionably, the best, in the inter-garage arms race. Lewis didn’t necessarily become a better driver in the sense of having more brilliant race craft for it but things like qualifying laps, at which he is now without doubt the GOAT, became so crucial that he learned to take on more and more feedback from engineers without ever forgetting it. 

When they tell them, on the radio, that their teammate is finding more speed through corner X and braking later - and they’ll show them more detailed telemetry - then Lewis can, like any driver, take that on and do it. But he can also make hundreds of micro-adjustments per lap without ever forgetting them or dropping one - again, they all can do it, sometimes, perfectly but he just doesn’t ever not. 

Since 2016 he’s been able to grow as a driver without being in the pressure-cooker of mind games with his teammate and that shows, too. A more outward-looking, globally-focussed Lewis, a Lewis who’s more comfortable sharing elements of himself, treating himself less like an industrial espionage project.

(some irony, for a man who started his career amidst spy gate)

If Lewis was a white boy from a millionaire or billionaire family, his achievements in sporting terms would still be staggering. He’s neither of those things, so they’re placed on a different scale.

It is now, even for the most racist, the most close-minded alleged fan of the sport, impossible to deny that he has the records on paper. They can’t take away the seven titles and 94 wins, no matter how they try to minimise them. The bar that was constantly set higher has been met and exceeded and a driver who, for a lot of years, looked set to be a one-off champion whose brilliance could be more easily swept away as a footnote to diversity, has become the benchmark against whom other achievements can be measured. 

That Lewis did that despite the odds against him? The racists won’t see that and sadly can and do try to deny it but that is a world-changing, sport-transforming moment that’s been a decade-and-a-half in the making, since F1 started looking achievable for him. 

Lewis has nothing left to prove, so all that furious energy he’s used for years to get this will take other outlets - he still, after all, as everyone, has a lot to change. I am so excited to get to work in the sport during this era, to see what kind of transformative effects he’ll have, has already had. The work shouldn’t be on Lewis and mustn’t be on him alone but you do absolutely fucking love to see it getting done.

Anyway, I’m so proud of him. I’m so astounded by the skill and focus - the relentless pursuit that’s driven him all this time and that isn’t diminished at all by having got here. I truly believe Lewis is gonna carry on awhile yet and it’s fucking exciting just to think about what we’re going to witness this short-ass nerd kid who looked kind of sulky and defensive in press conferences for years do.

(and, of course, the first driver accused of being a social media poseur who didn’t pay enough attention to the sport. Plus ca change...)

*This is a really petty example but you had to wear a tie if you went to MTC, as a visiting journalist, in the beforetime. 

[ibijau]

Oops, I’m continuing the Nomad Nie AU / also on AO3

warning for: racism, some mentions of rape toward the end (nothing happens, but a character is scared of it)

I've also made some slight updates to the first chapter on AO3 (mostly by changing Mingjue's title from king to khan as that might be more accurate) since I didn't really have a plot in mind when I wrote it

I am trying to research this as well as I can, and basing the Nie on the Mongols, mostly because that's just what's easiest to find information for. I am not aiming for a realistic depiction of anything, but I also more than welcome criticism and advice on how I'm depicting those cultures, and later on how I touch upon certain medical stuff that play a role in the plot.

With a spring to his step, Huaisang led Lan Xichen toward one of the many tents in this odd city. It was a rather smaller one than most, and not quite as well kept as others. The inside of it was sparsely decorated, and a young man sat in the middle, by the fire, a book in hand. Everything about that man, from his hair to his clothes, set him apart from everyone Lan Xichen had seen so far. His heart jumped in his chest when he realised that this new stranger appeared to be Han, just like him.

“Menyao!” Huaisang exclaimed when the young man looked their way. “This Ziqen. Tomorrow, I wedding Ziqen. You help?”

The young man’s eyes opened wide at the news, and he gaped at Lan Xichen. He quickly regained control of himself though, and started chatting in the Nie’s language with great fluency, asking Huaisang for details about the situation no doubt. He did not look particularly happy with what he was told, but in the end he still bowed politely to the Khan’s brother. Huaisang seemed satisfied with this, and turned again to Lan Xichen.

“Menyao help Ziqen,” he announced. “I see Ziqen tomorrow. Ziqen sleep, eat. Tomorrow, big day!”

Unsure what to say, Lan Xichen simply bowed to his future husband who promptly left the tent.

“So what is actually your name?” Menyao asked, closing his book and gesturing for Lan Xichen to sit. “His accent is so atrocious… I’m Meng Yao, by the way. Last name Meng, first name Yao, though they don’t seem to quite understand that here.”

Lan Xichen quickly sat down, glad for a chance to rest, and introduced himself.

“Are you… are you also married to someone here?” he asked.

“Nothing so glamorous,” Meng Yao sighed, grabbing a pot behind him and pouring some liquid into a bowl which he handed to Lan Xichen. “My father is a merchant, and he wanted to see if a more direct route could be set up to trade with the west. We were hoping to cross the Nie’s territory unnoticed, but those barbarians have ways of knowing what goes on in their land, and so we were ambushed. My father was forced to give me up as a servant just so our group could run with their lives.”

Lan Xichen’s heart went to Meng Yao, whose voice fraught with pain contrasted with the dignified way he held himself. Their stories were eerily similar, which made Lan Xichen realise that the Nie might have had a habit of doing such things. After some consideration, he decided that he wouldn’t mention that his family had managed to get a rather decent deal out of selling him, fearing it would only make Meng Yao’s pain worse.

“How long have you been here?”

“Two years, nearly three now,” Meng Yao claimed. “They treat me as well as they can, I suppose, but of course they’re only barbarians.” He paused, hesitating. “I am sorry that you find yourself in such a terrible situation, Lan gongzi. But if I may express a selfish thought, I am glad to finally have someone to talk to. It has been so lonely here. Huaisang is the only person to really bother with me these days, and sometimes that’s worse than being alone.”

Lan Xichen frowned upon hearing that, and took a sip from the bowl Meng Yao had given him. The taste felt rather odd, a little sour and sparkling against his tongue. After such an exhausting day he’d rather have had some tea, but he figured that would be out of the question… and of course he couldn’t express such a desire in front of Meng Yao, who must have missed decent drinks even more than him.

“Is this Huaisang a bad person then?” he asked, trying not to show too much fear.

Meng Yao took a moment to consider the question.

“I wouldn’t call him bad as such, no. But he’s not much good either,” Meng Yao explained with a disdainful grimace. “I’m supposed to teach him our language, but you see how dreadful he is at it. He’s very spoiled, so he doesn’t know how to put effort into anything. His brother allows him to do whatever he pleases, and makes sure there’s never any consequences. As a result, Huaisang is very lazy, not particularly smart, and a rather pathetic man for a nomad. He is a good horse rider like they all are, but I’ve never seen him touch a bow or a blade. He never wrestles with other men his age, never does any physical work if he can avoid it… to be honest, aside from caring for his own horse, he just doesn’t do much of anything at all, and so he is not particularly well liked. Those closest to his brother pretend to respect him, but only because they fear Khan Mingjue’s wrath… and that’s a sensible fear to have.”

As he said that, Meng Yao’s voice dropped nearly to a whisper, and he glanced nervously toward the door, as if fearful that the Khan might hear him. Lan Xichen shivered. He did not know too much about the Nie, but of course the leader of a tribe of nomad could only be a terrifying man.

“And what is the Khan like, then?”

Again, Meng Yao glanced at the door.

“He is a cruel man,” he answered, keeping his voice as low as he could. “Never get on his bad side, as he is very unforgiving. He has a volatile temper, always ready to explode, and he is a warmongering tyrant who looks for every excuse to conquer and slaughter the Wen people who live South from his lands. He pretends that they cursed his father and caused him to die before his time, and among those barbarians that’s a very serious accusation.”

Meng Yao paused to look once more at the door, and motioned for Lan Xichen to lean closer.

“I cannot be sure,” he whispered, “but I believe that he keeps his brother alive only so he can offer him as a human sacrifice the day he finally goes to war against his enemies. It’s the only thing that makes sense to me.”

Lan Xichen gasped and pressed a hand against his mouth, horrified by the idea. He did not have any particular sympathy for the young man he was forced to marry, but such a fate really seemed too cruel for anyone.

“Hopefully, it won’t happen for a while,” Meng Yao said. “Khan Mingjue is still recruiting families for his war. And I hope it won’t affect you, when the day comes. It probably won’t. Huaisang seems delighted to marry you right now, but he’s like that about everything new, and he’ll soon jump to some other source of amusement. And then, you’ll be quite safe from most of their affairs. For now though, how about I tell you how weddings seem to be conducted in these parts?”

His chest tight with fear over his future, Lan Xichen nodded quickly.

If he had realised just how dreadful these people were, he wouldn’t have agreed so easily to this sacrifice, not even to help his family.

-

Lan Xichen went through his wedding in a bit of a daze. He had hardly slept by the time Khan Mingjue came into Meng Yao’s little tent to give Lan Xichen the clothes he’d wear for the ceremony. He had stayed up late to listen to Meng Yao’s explanations about the lives of the Nie tribe, and still there was more information to listen to as he got dressed.

In truth, even Meng Yao didn’t really know how the wedding would be conducted, since it was a rather unusual one. Normally there would have been long back and forth between the two families, as well as exchanges of gifts, and they would have been gifted a ger to live in as well as animals… but of course with this being a sudden whim of the Khan’s capricious brother, no such thing was possible, and Meng Yao doubted there would be more than a banquet to celebrate.

That assertion turned out to be mostly right. Since there was no new ger for them to move into, some of the ceremonies were cut short, and everything happened inside Khan Mingjue’s ger. There were a great number of guests present, though most did not seem particularly happy to be there, and Lan Xichen caught a few unimpressed looks thrown toward him and his new husband. As Meng Yao had told him, Huaisang did not seem particularly popular… though it might also just be that nobody was happy to need to make gifts worthy of a relative of the Khan on such a short delay, and when they were most of them away from home (the only reason so many people were there, Meng Yao had explained, was because they’d all gathered for a religious festival).

To make matters worse, even the feast itself was hard to enjoy for Lan Xichen. His family had always favoured a vegetarian diet when possible, but every dish now presented to him contained either meat or milk, and cooked in a manner entirely foreign to him. He tried at first to avoid eating at all, but Huaisang was paying close attention to him.

“Husband eat,” he insisted, carefully selecting pieces of meat for Lan Xichen. “Good!”

Lan Xichen thought of refusing, but when he glanced toward Meng Yao, the young man threw him a terrified look and silently encouraged him to eat, discreetly gesturing toward Khan Mingjue. His new brother-in-law seemed as angry at his refusal to eat as Huaisang was concerned. Not wanting to start his new life on a bad impression, Lan Xichen made an effort and chewed down some of the meat offered to him. The taste was rather strong, and the texture bothered him a little, but it wasn’t unpleasant as such.

“Good,” he said in what he hoped to be their language.

Khan Mingjue huffed and looked away, unimpressed, while Huaisang grinned brightly.

“Good husband, good… good head?” Huaisang tried. “I learn, you learn. Good?”

“Good,” Lan Xichen agreed, hoping he would show more skill for language than his husband apparently had.

Delighted by that answer, Huaisang immediately started trying to teach Lan Xichen words for everything around them in between feeding him more meat and more of that milky drink people there seemed to like, and to which Lan Xichen was starting to warm up already. 

It really was a lot happening all at once, especially when the people assembled started singing and dancing, the noise adding to Lan Xichen’s stress and exhaustion. Thankfully Huaisang, in spite of drinking and partying as joyfully as everyone else, noticed that his husband was getting tired. He turned to say a few words to his brother, apparently trying to be subtle, but others still heard and started shouting at the couple. Whatever they were saying, it provoked great hilarity, even in Huaisang whose face was turning quite red. The only person not to be amused was Meng Yao who, standing away from the other guests, had his lips pinched in disapproval.

Just as Lan Xichen was starting to realise what sort of jokes might be made at his expense at that moment, Huaisang took his hand and led him away.

“Zonghui give his ger tonight,” Huaisang explained. “After, brother’s ger. Good?”

“I don’t mind,” Lan Xichen replied tiredly.

Meng Yao had implied that it really was odd for newlyweds to not have their own home, and clearly Huaisang looked a little sorry that he could not provide in that respect. Lan Xichen would have preferred to have some distance from the terrifying Khan Mingjue, but he’d deal with this. He had little choice.

He had more pressing things to worry about anyway. Namely, the fact that he was now married to this stranger, and about to spend the night with him.

Lan Xichen knew how sex went between a man and woman of course. And even when it came to the things two men could do together, he wasn’t entirely ignorant either, having come across some books and prints before. He didn’t have any practical experience aside from a few stolen kisses here and there, for which he blamed his too severe uncle, but he knew how these things went, and he found the general concept quite attractive… but not if it had to happen like this.

With ever growing anxiety, Lan Xichen allowed his husband to lead him into an empty ger, and watched him prepare a place to sleep, laying down pelts on the floor for them to lay on. In spite of Huaisang’s wordless encouragement, Lan Xichen refused to remove his clothes before laying on that bed, hoping to send a signal that he wasn’t interested in anything happening between them. Huaisang, on the other hand, dressed down nearly entirely, keeping only an undershirt before sitting down next to Lan Xichen. He still seemed in an excellent mood, and looked down at his new husband as if he were a particularly exquisite piece of art, or perhaps a sweet to be devoured. Lan Xichen shivered under such attention.

Huaisang, after a short while, grew tired of merely looking. He leant over his husband, placing his hands on either side of Lan Xichen’s head and moving as if to kiss him. Panicking, Lan Xichen pushed him away with enough strength that Huaisang fell to the side with a surprised cry.

There was no mistaking the disappointment on Huaisang’s face when he sat up, carefully rubbing the side of his body that had hit the floor as if this had hurt him. Lan Xichen stared at him, terrified that his husband would get angry, or try to take by force what he thought to be his right. He’d heard stories about what happened to those enslaved after barbarian raids, and Meng Yao had confirmed some of that to be true… but Huaisang just shrugged.

“Husband tired,” he said with an understanding nod. “Sleep, good?”

Without waiting for an answer, Huaisang laid down on the pelts, grabbing some furs to cover the both of them, then shifted and turned his back to Lan Xichen, who promptly turned the other way.

Although Lan Xichen was sure he’d be too nervous to ever fall asleep after such an incident, in the end the exhaustion was too strong and he quickly passed out, hoping nothing would happen to him while he was unconscious.

[deliciousscaloppine]

Hot Takes Galore: A brief overview of fandom backlashes that influenced fanfiction writing traditions as I have personally experienced them:

In today’s segment I am going to talk about copyright infringement.

First let me preface this by saying I have only ever been in 3 fandoms, starting from 2008 and I have never been terribly active - like this blog has been the most active I’ve ever been in any fandom ever. I am not going to talk about particular fandom dramas because I am pretty clueless about that. What I am going to talk about is that friction between “reality” and online spaces that brought about changes that are still in effect today in the way fanfiction is written and perceived.

In 2008 as I was entering, nearly every piece of fanfiction had a disclaimer about the author not owning the characters, which were the property of Corporate Entity X, or Author Y, and also not profiting from the work in any shape or form. At the time getting money from writing fanfiction was a gigantic taboo, and almost no one did it, or advertised that they did. 

But as I understand through convention culture printed writing did circulate in exchange for money (zines), and at least in Japan one could sell doujinshis (self-published stories and comics, often within the framework of another work) in certain events. Although this was largely considered “illegal” under copyright laws, and artists could be persecuted or blacklisted from entering the industry if discovered. That’s also why fanartists often to this day may screen where and when their work is viewed, and move to take down reposts, or call others to protest if artworks are circulated without permission outside of the artist’s page.

Older fandom people also hated authors that moved against fanfiction, a big case being Anne Rice, the vampire lady everyone - including me - copies when writing about vampires. And now I am going to talk a little about that.

Usually, writers, just sit somewhere cosy and write, and often they have no idea, absolutely no idea, on how to manage their writing properties - usually a lawyer does that, and lawyers want A Lot Of Money (A brief brush with justice and lawyers over a civil dispute I won, cost me 1000 euros out of nowhere, in a single day, and no I couldn’t avoid it because I was the accused one, so I had to appear with some representation). 

So sometimes, quite often, it’s a lawyer that activates a writer or other artist to move against “smaller” copyright infringements, in order to make bank. And if one suffers such a case, they should make it as apparent as possible to the other party that they have no money, and the pressure will go away immediately. But even MORE OFTEN a small copyright infringement, may lead to a sequence of bigger ones, and ultimately the de facto loss of rights from one’s writing properties, and of course revenue. 

And for a lot of published authors, they just don’t know for how long they can publish things - publishing houses that have them signed can close, book sales can drop, tastes change, personal problems, and anything else may mean that they could find themselves without a source of income at any point in the future, while they are aging and becoming more and more irrelevant. 

A very famous case currently, is that of Alan Dean Foster, the writer who has done some novelizations for movies like Star Wars and Alien, and is no longer receiving revenue from that - while his wife is hospitalized and their family needs the income - because Disney absorbed the company that had signed the contract with him, and chose to not honor the previous contract. To make them pay he will have to go into a huge legal battle with a corporate giant, which he cannot afford. But they still absorb income from these novelizations.

But how does fanfiction tie into that, and Anne Rice’s case (which if memory serves right, also went through a series of personal problems, including her husband’s death during that time). 

So for a lot of writers, fanfiction may be that tiny breach that may threaten their rights in the future from tresspases of distribution networks. Meaning, people write vampire fanfiction based on Anne Rice’s work? What if another publishing house used the template of her works (historical settings, bleeding orifices, religious themes, homosexuality and sexual trauma etc) and produced a royalty free series of such works with a team of professional writers that do not own the work - who often have less rights, like not owning the characters, or the storylines, participating in a very small scale, so their payment goes down etc)

And in this way EVERYONE SUFFERS. Big Name Published Author fades into obscurity and goes into poverty and payroll writers are horrifically abused.  

A lot of hobbyists, and hobbyist writers whose sole dream is to be published in some shape or form, do not really care, and do not concern themselves with the legal aspect of creation, or the technical skill that it takes to produce writing on a consistent basis, which can only happen if you’ve got your basic needs covered. So they might see this type of backlash as inherently privileged. 

But it’s not really a privilege, there has been a global recession in basic working rights for everyone, and lovers of fiction don’t have to condone, of course, attacks against them, but they need to put that kind of backlash in perspective. Someone did write the content you enjoy, THEY ARE NOT DEAD YET, and may have opinions on how it should be managed, especially when it pertains to their livelihood. 

It’s a delicate balance that we all must keep in order to keep corporate regulations out of it.

For instance with the recent danmei explosion The Untamed brought forth, Ao3 was banned in China. Now a lot of you might know that this was caused by some real person fic involving the actor Xiao Zhan, which led to a whole other level of drama. But make no mistake this was a political act to protect the interests of the domestic publishing industry as it prepares to do an international opening that will bring in several billions from foreign markets.

Because Ao3 has been expanding as a platform globally it brings about changes, and in many cases steals readers away from traditional publishing, so it becomes unacceptable economically for a bunch of hobbyists to influence tastes, market mores, and create sensationalism around certain properties out of literally the blue. This is not a good thing for a lot of corporate thinking, they set the product and we are supposed to buy it. We are not supposed to go, it would look greater with a bunch of anal, and then put forth a million words altering the character of the intellectual property.

Why you ask? Again, because another publishing industry might choose to imitate the style of danmei fanfics and produce works that hijack readership, or lead to breach of contracts, making an unsafe environment for workers in this industry (Xiao Zhan’s case.)

Nowadays I see more and more fanfic authors coming out of their shell to ask money for writing in the form of donations, patronage and commissions, as fandom involvement is also becoming vastly monetized. The market of conventions coming into social media platforms. A strange more exists still in which while “legally wrong”, as long as money is not asked on the publishing platform (Ao3), it may not count as copyright infringement. But fanfic authors, may still be treated with hostility for this, for not “deserving” to profit from someone else’s properties, or even worse for “stealing” readership. 

For instance a recent argument I have seen from lgbtq authors, is that they remain unsupported by fandom spaces, who often proclaim themselves as lgbtq or lgbtq friendly (something that is not true), but at the same time they are not looking for published lgbtq stories, or authors, or even treat these with open hostility, or a lot of bias.

Fandom is not comprised from “readers” in the traditional sense, definitely not friends of literature, and it’s free, no one really has to pay anything to read a published fanfic.  So it’s a pretty loose demographic with no set characteristics, and no interest in investing time and money in something for long. It’s an online social activity and not a readers’ movement, highly influenced by peer pressure and branding. It’s basically a gigantic group of people who don’t really do anything for no one, and may develop a parasitic connection to intellectual properties (I am sorry peers, it’s the truth). 

And it’s perhaps the biggest counterculture scene at the moment in the developed world. To this day it treats even its own authors with tremendous suspicion, disregard and dismissal, meaning that even if someone can get some money and recognition locally through writing fanfic they are on thin fucking ice at all times for all the reasons but mostly attracting unnecessary attention to themselves and subsequently the scene.  A pattern that we will see is endemic to all forms of fandom backlashes.

So to this day in contrast with fanart, fan writers may not be compensated for their troubles, but may also be ousted from their domestic professional spaces for writing fanfic that may infringe on their intellectual property. 

The thing is, for me, that fandom culture can become incredibly supportive of corporate practices that harm actual people (writers, they are people too) but when they realize that the same corporate practices may be used against them, it’s too late to realize that it’s not a lottery of who wins by crying more, and by the time that happens, a corporation or industry who has used them to do its dark bidding, can stop catering to them  because ultimately they have become again irrelevant once a well defined demographic of  readers and viewers has been secured.

So if you are going to do counterculture, at least do it right. Be respectful of the writers/authors of the content you consume and mindful of their troubles, do not generate public strife that brings in political regulation in favor of corporate interests. Become interested in writing culture, support your fanfic authors with lasting engagement in their work, even if it escapes the narrow confines of a certain fandom. It’s simple. Eat, live, pray, fuck, or something.

[bgn846]

Marshal’s Creed FFXV Fanfic

Summary:            

Cor dresses up for the annual Halloween gala in hopes to win a bet. Can he beat out everyone else at the party with the best costume?

Notes:    

I had a fun prompt from my friend @ragewerthers for Cor Leonis getting invited to a Halloween party.... but what in the HELL is he supposed to go as?!  Do Regis and Clarus help him?  Do the boys help him?  Does he decide to go scary?  Funny?  Mythical?

I hope you all enjoy, I had fun writing this! :)

Work Text:          

“What is he wearing?” Regis asked under his breath from where they were standing near the steps to the throne.

“Not so sure, but it seems pretty popular with the ladies,” Clarus admitted as he craned his neck to see better.

“Dear six, he looks half-naked!” spluttered Regis after a moment.

“Sorta, he’s got pants and maybe something someone would consider a shirt on.” Though Clarus was still clueless as to what Cor had dressed up as.  The annual Halloween gala was always a fun event. However, the marshal never dressed up.

Ever.

It was only the quick thinking of Regis with the tempting draw of a bet that enticed their friend into wearing anything special this year. A hefty amount of 500gil sat waiting for Cor if he dressed up and won one of the sundry costume awards to be gifted that night.  The prizes given out were little awards trinkets, and the bragging rights until the next party.  Of course, Cor could care less about any of that, the only reason he’d even agreed, was to prove Regis wrong and maybe relieve him of some decent spending cash.

The king had figured Cor wasn’t creative enough to even stand a chance. Regis had merely snorted and waved him off when the marshal assured them he’d win something.  Now, as Clarus watched their friend navigate through the crowd he was beginning to think Regis might have to pay up at the end of the night.

The squeals of impressed party goers only got louder as Cor approached, as did the flash of lights from photos being snapped. The crowds dispersed once he’d reached the king.  Cor yawned once seemingly bored with the whole affair already. “You might as well give me the money now, Regis.”

“Never!” the king hissed, “You aren’t going to win, look at you! What is that, it looks like a pile of rags!”

Before Cor could answer a young staffer passing by interrupted them with a shout, “Awesome costume!” They left just as quickly as Clarus began to examine the outfit in more detail.

“I’m afraid I’m lost as to what you are, care to enlighten us?”

“Eh, this? I have no idea, Noct helped me pick it out.  Said it was the best costume to wear and had Ignis go online and order me one before I could say no.”

“You asked my son to help you?”

“Nope, he found out I was going to dress up and he nearly flipped. How could I say no, he begged me to let him help.”

“Still what the hell are you?” Regis asked in exasperation.

“An assassin I think?” Cor supplied with a furrowed brow. “Honestly, the kid was talking too fast for me to catch the exact name, but he said it was from a game.”  

“Why in the heck would an assassin wear that? Your entire right side is exposed, seems like a defensive nightmare.”

“I’ll admit it’s not exactly realistic but it’s comfy at least.” Cor offered with a shrug.

“I don’t know why you let my son talk you into this, you look ridiculous.” Regis was about to add more when another party-goer/staffer wandered by and started staring. They were of course after a picture of Cor.  The staffer was young and blushing like mad but still managed to ask for a selfie.

“I’m sorry what were you saying majesty? I got pulled away to have my picture taken because I’m going to win.”

Regis sneered and turned around to walk away.  Clarus couldn’t help but snicker at the sight. Regis was a sore loser so a part of him hoped Cor wouldn’t win, but he probably would. The marshal, though not a youthful twenty-year-old anymore, could hold his own in the looks department. He was only in his forties now but still trained just as hard. His well-defined six-pack was evidence of that.  Clarus suspected that most of the girls wandering over were trying to get a better look at what he’d been hiding under his guard uniform.

Cor for once didn’t mind the attention and even smiled for a few shots.  It was nice to see his friend out of his element for once.   “Have you seen his highness?” Clarus asked, figuring Noct would have at least had to help Cor get ready. Otherwise, the man wouldn’t have known how to wear the costume.

“Yeah, he’s coming soon, he was getting picky about his nails.”

“What?”

“You’ll see, he’ll match grumpy pants over there,” Cor announced with a chuckle. “Regis thinks sporting little tiny fake fangs makes him a good vampire. He’s so wrong.”

“Oh dear,” Clarus could only guess what Noct had conjured up. Ignis would have been key in gathering his needed elements, but the idea was most likely the princes. “What are the others dressing up as?”

Cor barked out a laugh, “I only saw Ignis and Prompto but it appeared they were wearing matching black suits.”

“That’s it?”

“Almost, if you don’t count the wolf tail they both had clipped to their belts and the wolf ear headbands.”

“I’m so confused,” he sighed. However, right as he was about to ask for more details a sudden hush overtook the room. Looking up he noticed what had caused the reaction. Ignis, Prompto, and his son were stalking over towards them. They all matched and looked quite formidable.   However, Noct seemed to be missing. The black suits had matching black shirts and ties to go with. One might take them all for security guards aside from the addition of the animal ears atop their heads. One thing Cor hadn’t mentioned was their eye color. Each had donned a pair of contacts that made their eyes look golden and cat-like.

As they neared, Clarus realized there was a fourth pair of legs hiding behind Ignis. This must be the prince. Waiting patiently as the group finally came to a rest in front of them, Clarus was treated to the reveal. A pale hand with amusingly long pointy black nails slowly crept out from behind Ignis arm.  It reached out and pointed straight at him.  Then in a move that had Clarus snorting with laughter, Noct curled his fingers and beckoned him closer.  

“You’re nuts if you think I’m letting you near me with those daggers,” he laughed.

Noct merely shook his finger and carefully leaned to the side to show his face. The prince’s hair was slicked back and someone had drawn in an exaggerated widow’s peak.

“I see you’re taking your role far more seriously than your father.”

“I shall win,” was all Noct uttered before he hissed and retreated behind his bodyguards again.

With a quick bow, Ignis led the way back out into the party.  The advisor was playing his part very well and looked like he’d snap a person in two if they even tried to talk to the prince. Prompto was fighting to hide a smile as they turned to leave. Gladio offered Clarus and eyebrow waggle and a wink before he left.  They were having fun it seemed.

“So forgive me for being a little behind on my fantasy lore, why are they all wearing animal ears and tails?” Clarus asked kindly.

“He’s a vampire and he needs his werewolf pack to protect him.”

“Ah, I see. Noct basically thought up the perfect costume, ensuring he doesn’t have to talk with anyone.”

“Pretty much, he’s clever in that way, unlike his old man!” Cor teased as Regis joined them again.

Ignoring Cor’s comment, Regis stared at Noct’s retreating party and tilted his head, “Was that my son?”

“Yep you missed the reveal; he’s a vampire with a coven of werewolves.”  

Regis simply smiled and straightened his shoulders slightly, “He takes after me in so many ways.”

Cor groaned loudly and rolled his eyes, “You wish, look it I’m gonna go mingle and get some more votes in my favor.  I’m winning this contest tonight, be ready to pay up.”

Regis tried to whack Cor in the shin with his cane, but the marshal was quicker and leaped out of the way. He laughed and casually wandered away, complete with a smug look of satisfaction.

“He’s such a brat sometimes,” Regis huffed.

“He’s only five years younger than you.”

“Shut it; let’s go see if we can convince the judges to ban him or something.”  

Cor did not get banned.

Clarus had the joy of watching his friend claim a very special award, the citadels’ sexiest costume. Apparently, the panel of judges was also distracted by Cor’s exposed right side and six-pack.  The few other contestants in that category didn’t stand a chance.  No manner of makeup could fake muscles or a square jawline.

Regis didn’t have to pout for long though when his son won the night's overall best costume design. The king was proud of his son and his friends. They’d banded together to create a memorable look.  Noct stayed in character when he accepted his award and tried to bite one of the presenters.  Gladio sprang into action and held him back.  The room erupted in laughter and cheers.

Suddenly thankful they could all enjoy moments like this together; Clarus smiled and looked over to his friend and King. Regis must have had a similar reaction as he returned a warm smile of his own and a small nod.

The rest of the night was a blur; Cor had come playfully demanding his money. Regis denied him, but Clarus knew he’d pay up in the morning.  His liege kept trying to accuse Cor of cheating since he was only wearing half a costume. The marshal would then wiggle his award in front of Regis’ face as a rebuttal.

The music soon turned up loud enough that they couldn’t talk anymore. Opting to retreat to the far corner of the room the three friends sat and relaxed.  They spend the remainder of the evening commenting on the costumes and the terrible music.

The End.

AO3 link is posted in the comments.

[96thdayofrage]

This commentary is part of The Appeal’s collection of opinion and analysis.

Somewhere in America, right now, as you read this, a person—likely a young Black or brown man—is sitting in a jail cell, terrified he’s going to die because he can’t afford a few hundred dollars in bail. There have been tens of thousands of new COVID-19 cases reported each week in America’s jails, and those are just the reported cases—actual numbers may be much higher.

He may have asthma or high blood pressure, he may be diabetic or have a disability, and if he’s one of the millions of people who cycle through America’s jails over 10 million times annually, he is sitting in a world where he cannot get more than three feet away from another person. He may be sharing a bathroom with 40 other men. He may have no access to outside air, masks, running water, sanitizer and cleaning supplies, or even medical attention. He may not even be 18 years old. He is frightened for his life. He is frightened he will die in a cage over a few hundred dollars in bail.

Elsewhere in America, Kyle Rittenhouse, 17, is home. Accused of killing two men and wounding a third during protests against police violence, Kyle’s $2 million bond was paid by a group of supporters who raised the money online. Bail, you see, isn’t about what you did or whether you’re dangerous. Bail is about whether you can find the money to buy your freedom back from the state. 

As I write this, nearly 400,000 people cannot find that money. And for them and their children, partners, parents, colleagues and neighbors, the Rittenhouse case raises particularly pointed questions about what we are really talking about when we talk about bail. After all, in a world where an accused killer can pay his way out of jail but a father sits behind bars for picking up his kids during a family emergency, we’ve forfeited the right to argue that these releases are somehow about public safety or the severity of charges.  

In Missouri’s First Congressional District, which I am honored to represent starting in January, Black and brown people’s lives are at risk simply because they cannot buy back their freedom. In St. Louis City, Black people are held in pretrial detention three times as often as white people. We are living in poverty. Too often Black and brown people are detained indefinitely for minor offenses like traffic violations, trespassing, and drug possession—conduct that is much less frightening than the charges that stand against Kyle Rittenhouse. And statistically, we are far likelier to die if we catch the virus than he would be. 

The time has come to stop pretending that pretrial detention is about public safety. Even before the pandemic, a few days in jail would cost a person their entire life: lost jobs, disrupted education or mental health treatment, fractured families, and an increased risk of homelessness are just a few of the likely consequences of pretrial detention. When you factor in the significantly heightened risk of COVID-19 death to the list of consequences, it becomes clear: The safety of many more people is put at risk by detention than release.

The hard truth in making smart choices about public safety is that it’s an area where people are prone to mistake emotion for evidence. The evidence shows that releasing more people pretrial generally poses zero risk to public safety. The evidence shows that sending text messages is a proven and more cost-effective method than cash bail in getting people to come back to court. The evidence shows that the ease with which we toss people into prison destabilizes families and destroys the economic mobility of entire communities. When we let our government make policy choices based on fear instead of reason, we get remarkably cruel and horrific consequences. 

Willie Horton arguments fail when you realize that the number of people at risk of dying in a COVID-19-ravaged carceral facility is much higher than the number of people at risk of experiencing violent crime. The math is simple: Jails are now hotbeds of COVID transmission, and every day spent in jail is a risk to the health and life of everyone inside, including those who work there. When you fold how release benefits family unity, education, mental health, housing stability, and the economy of an impacted community, it becomes clear that the problem isn’t Kyle Rittenhouse’s fundraiser. The problem is that we don’t treat everyone like Kyle Rittenhouse. 

Kalief Browder spent three years in jail, most of them in solitary confinement, for allegedly stealing a backpack and because he couldn’t afford his freedom. At 16 years old, he was wrongfully incarcerated for a crime he did not commit. A system that locks innocent children and adults in cages is not just or smart—it’s cruel. When he was released, Kalief Browder tragically died by suicide. In stark comparison, Kyle Rittenhouse has been heralded a hero. 

This is why we continue to fight. When our freedom and justice are at stake, we cannot be silent. Elected leaders must have the courage to step past the fearmongering and create smarter, stronger, and more humane systems to spur change. The most important thing to keep our communities safe isn’t the local jail. It’s local jobs, housing, schools, and healthcare.  Guaranteeing these building blocks of stability does much more to keep our community safe than needless, perpetual detention. 

Although Congress does not have direct control over America’s thousands of jails, we do have control over funding that, if used to incentivize states and counties, could transform our criminal legal system. The first step is straightforward: We must invest in people and communities by funding affordable housing and child care, better schools, job opportunities, and healthcare. 

We must reward jurisdictions that end cash bail and be mindful that we should not trade one broken system for others such as risk assessment tools and electronic monitoring that are algorithmically biased, privatized, and equally cruel. By making these investments, we can exchange old cages for stronger communities. We can increase both freedom and prosperity for everyday people, instead of reserving these fundamental rights as privileges for the few. 

In Congress, I plan to sit on the House Judiciary Committee and craft policies in partnership with directly affected communities. This is the moment. This is our work to complete, our assignment unto liberation. This fight is in our hands. Standing together, it’s essential that we build a more just and equitable world that centers our voices and recognizes that freedom should never have a price. 

[halothenthehorns]

TLTNL- DUDLEY DEMENTED

The graveyard appeared in a haze around him, and the tombstones were the good features. The memory resurfacing in his mind's eye as he relived the moment again and again, Voldemort's ghastly white face, the threats and promises of his death, and always lingering in the background, Cedric-

"Harry, Harry love, wake up."

A gentle hand was brushing the bangs away from his face, only twitching slightly over the scar but continuing the methodic pattern. Squinting past the gray haze of sleep, he caught a glimpse of red, and for a moment was sure it was Ginny, but that faded absently from his mind without even fully registering why she'd be there.

Then he kept blinking, and instead of the wide brown eyes of Mrs. Weasley promising a hug whenever he did, or didn't, need one, his own green were staring down at him.

"Mum?"

For a moment Harry wasn't entirely sure if he was even awake...but his eyes were already closing again, her soft voice whispering reassurances, "it's alright dear, you're safe here."

Real or not, Harry felt himself relaxing under that touch, and soon faded back into a restless rem of a long dark corridor...

    Lily was cooking breakfast with an absent minded look on her face. She wasn't churning on the book they'd most recently finished though, if she lingered on that to long she was likely to start crying into the pot below her. No she was instead worrying over the fact that they had an Order meeting tonight, and the four of them would be unable to attend. Once she'd served breakfast and brought this to the attention of the others, Sirius brushed her off at once.

"Quit fretting Lil's, so we miss one meeting, they won't go flying off the handle for that."

"Besides, I think it's for the best," Remus grumbled towards his bowl without looking at anyone. "Doubt some of us could walk in there without executing a murder we couldn't fully explain." He took an extra hard bite at his spoon at the end, nearly ripping the metal off.

James's hand twitched on the way to his mouth, spilling porridge over his nose instead, and only after he'd carefully wiped it up did he say, "it's not like we can do anything about it. If someone comes around here asking questions, we'll do the same as we did before and pretend like nothing's wrong. It's none of their business if we're being extra cautious of late and didn't attend this one meeting."

Lily was stirring her food absently in the bowl, she hadn't touched a bite. She was too busy straining over the fact that they could honestly use the Order's help with this. They should know that there was a traitor among them before any more secrets were spilled, and she couldn't help the deep longing she had just to see them all. So many were going to die in the coming year.

Harry watched them all with a deep ache, again feeling personally responsible he was putting them in such a hard spot all because of his presence. No one was eating much anymore, and when Harry went to put his finished bowl away and began collecting the others no one protested.

Despite the fact that they all knew full well this stupid book was as likely as the last ones going to start with the Dursleys, Remus kept the baby almost hopefully in his lap. He felt safer with his little cub in his arms while hearing about them than having to picture this very infant around those people. Harry in particular couldn't help but smile when he saw this. Aside from his own parents, there was just something adorable about Remus holding a baby he couldn't put into words.

It was a somber group that flopped down into their spots in the living room and Sirius who started without much enthusiasm, and the book he had to grab wasn't helping. It was solid black, only the faint purple five on the spine barely catching the light showed it was next. Sirius tried to pretend that wasn't a bad omen as he cleared his throat.

Privet Drive was coming to the close of another heated day.

Sirius had never believed he could say a street name with as much hatred as he hurled that out with.

All cars were parked, and the once green lawns seemed to be withering on sight for the use of hosepipes had been banned due to drought.

"Huh?" James asked in confusion. He'd admit he was also trying to delay a bit until he had to hear about the inside of one particular house.

"Hosepipes are used to pump water out," Lily grumbled more than explained, at this point she'd pay Sirius just to skip these parts until Harry could escape to the Burrow, but she also knew that wouldn't do any good. In some perverse way she wanted to know every terrible thing Petunia and Vernon had done to her son, that way she could kill them with a much more clear conscious knowing everything. "Sometimes in very hot summers, the city puts restrictions up so the residents have limited use."

James couldn't even imagine the idea, but then again, he'd never thought to question where the water came when he used a spell.

Without their usual aquatic uses to keep them busy outdoors, the inhabitants of Little Whinging were now more seen inside with all windows thrown open in attempts to coax a nonexistent breeze. The only person left outside was a boy in the flowerbeds of number four.

"Please tell me they don't have you out there pruning in that weather," Remus forced out between gritted teeth.

"Nope," Harry murmured. His memories of the summer were still murky, the last clear thing he remembered was getting off the train into Vernon's car, but he already had a bad feeling about how this summer had gone. Not that any of his summers at that place were ever really considered pleasant, so maybe he was just getting this one confused with a previous one? He hoped so, because the bad feelings bubbling up in him now weren't proving a good omen.

Very skinny, with black wild hair and spectacles covering green eyes, he looked even more unhealthy than usual laying in the dying plants.

"That comes from too little nourishment," Lily sneered, thinking back to the new levels of starving they'd been putting her boy through that past summer.

Harry Potter's appearance was an unwelcome sight to the sort of people in this town who thought scruffiness should be punishable by law,

"Well I think how you treat him is punishable by law!" James snapped, "and I can't bleeding wait to act on it."

Harry got the sense he wasn't going to be reporting the Dursleys to anyone, but his father would be facing his own law somewhere in there, causing Harry to inch away from him just a bit in fear. He really wasn't looking forward to what would happen to his muggle relatives when they got out of here.

but Harry had hidden himself behind some hydrangea bushes and so was currently invisible to anyone who would glare.

"Why were you hiding yourself?" Sirius asked, infusing some mischief into his voice Harry quickly shot away with an exasperated look. He had no more clue than them, yet. Besides that, Harry had always strived to keep himself out of trouble at the Dursleys, though hardly ever exceeding that wasn't the point.

The only way he could be spotted was if someone stuck their head out the window of the living room and looked directly down on him. Harry felt he should be congratulated for finding this spot.

"Well congratulations then," James nodded somberly. He really couldn't find any of his normal enthusiasm while having to hear about Harry there. He was half waiting any moment for Voldemort to pop up all over again and start trying to curse his son where he lay, though hopefully he'd at least hit Vernon first.

It may not have been comfortable, but it was far better than trying to sit in the living room where Vernon kept grinding his teeth so loud and snapping accusing questions at Harry, he couldn't hear the news.

Now Harry could feel the soft melding beginning on the edges of his mind as a memory was being returned, and he was more confident than ever his first impulse had been right, he'd found a new level of hate for his summer holidays. He was utterly confident it had something to do with watching the news, or perhaps a lack of news-

"I know you're not going to answer," Remus sighed as he watched baby Harry begin gumming on the sleeve of his robes, "but I really am curious why you're trying to spend time with them like that."

"Enjoying their company is not my reason for being in there," Harry at once said with conviction, "but I'm getting a bad feeling of why I am there."

"I get a bad feeling any time you're there," Lily sniffed, though everyone felt themselves tensing up even more at Harry's proclamation. What a way for this book to start, in such an already tense and uneasy atmosphere.

As if these thoughts had been spoken aloud, Vernon chose that moment to speak up and demand to know where their miscreant nephew was?

Petunia returned carelessly not in the house.

Vernon grunted this was a good thing, demanding of no one what that boy was really up to, he did not buy his story of watching the news.

Harry could feel the soft pressure it caused for his memories to be returned, his listening in on this conversation had finally given him a timeline of where in the summer he was, and the heavy sigh he released relieved no one of their worries. It managed to increase the look of agitation on Harry's face as he realized he'd been left to stew in nothing for a solid month with no useful contact from anyone. He threw Sirius in particular a disgruntled look for his letters he remembered from his godfather, then he sat there and really looked at him for a moment with some monster of a feeling telling him he should be valuing any letter Sirius sent him...

The others had noticed Harry, but they figured if he wasn't sharing it was best not to ask as that had only caused him pain in the past.

No normal boy should even be interested in such a thing, Dudley didn't have a clue who the Prime Minister was.

"He says that like it's a good thing," Remus cocked his head to the side in, well more disbelief than usual for Vernon's mental health.

"It does explain a bit about them though," Sirius curled his lip in disgust. "They enjoy their son being as daft as a stick like they are, they hate Harry for not conforming to that."

Vernon continued even louder in disbelief it's not as if his lot would be on the news-

Sirius rolled his eyes in disbelief at such a statement, he'd been on there only two years ago, and now Vernon even knew who he was. It wasn't actually possible for someone to be that dense was it?

"As if he doesn't know better," James snorted in disgust, thinking back to that first book which seemed like a kindness now, and all of their odd mentionings he'd tried to make a comment to Petunia about. He supposed Vernon had simply blocked that from his mind though, puny as it was, he needed the space for all his insults.

but Petunia quickly shushed him as she reminded the window was open.

"These people have far to much concern with being spied on," Lily scoffed in disgust, but she already knew how self important they found themselves.

"Petunia does enough of it," Remus forced something resembling a smile, "I'm sure she's just expecting retribution."

Vernon quickly agreed and silenced himself as another commercial started in their room. Out on the street, Harry was watching Mrs. Figg amble along apparently muttering to herself.

Harry's eyes narrowed in on this, he'd been far too shy when this had first been brought up, and far too out of it when Dumbledore had mentioned it in the last book, but now taking any excuse to not speak of the Dursley's for a moment Harry confirmed, "you said there was a Figg in the Order?"

"Yes," Remus confirmed, "but I'm still not convinced it's not the same one we know. Surely if she's been looking after you all these years, she'd have told Dumbledore about your err, living arrangements in your younger years." His face was murderous by the end at having to phrase a child living in a cupboard in that light, but if he'd actually said the words they'd come out more as a growl.

"I never told her that though," Harry shrugged, "never told anyone."

Lily narrowed her eyes on her son for that, but she blamed the Dursleys more than Harry for that. More than likely he'd been warned with a harsher punishment than no meals, she shuddered slightly at even the thought of that man putting his hands on her son and quickly cut off her train of thought while answering, "yes, well there's still the other things. Those ratty clothes and your very clear malnourishment plus never taking you anywhere while they spoiled Dudley rotten. Surely she'd at least mention that to Dumbledore who would have investigated further."

Harry wasn't as sure, the Dursley's had often spread around he was a sickly kid to excuse his looks and how they couldn't find any clothes to fit him properly, and there really was something nagging at his mind of Mrs. Figg and Dumbledore...but he let the matter go nonetheless.

Harry was more pleased than ever for his concealment, as Mrs. Figg had taken to inviting him round her place for tea when she caught sight of him recently.

Lily gave a soft little sigh of pity for the poor old thing, she probably got lonely especially since Harry hadn't stayed around anymore.

Vernon piped up in the living room again, asking if Dudders was out for tea?

Remus spluttered in shock as he looked at Sirius like he'd spoken Norwegian.

Sirius looked just as disbelieving as he rolled his eyes at what he'd said. "I'll believe Dudley's out having tea with friends when Harry dates Malfoy."

Harry retched at the idea theatrically while laughing along with the others, privately thinking to himself all that he'd already caught Dudley doing that summer when he was supposedly 'out.' His parents really were blind.

Petunia responded with fondness at once of which friend's house he was at tonight, cooing over how many of his little play mates he had.

James scoffed in disgust, he had more reasons than he'd ever dream of hating these stupid in laws of his, but their continued ignorance still chafed him for just how purposefully stupid they were being.

Harry suppressed a snort with difficulty. The Dursleys really were astonishingly stupid about their son, Dudley.

"Yet I'm not even surprised," Remus rolled his eyes.

Harry's cousin wasn't out having tea with anyone, but was instead out with his gang terrorizing all the children of the neighborhood and vandalizing whatever they pleased.

They were all muttering in frustration at this little delinquent, but honestly it was just a nice change of pace to hear he wasn't tormenting Harry as much as he'd seemed to before they weren't putting too much effort into it.

Harry had witnessed it himself while scavenging the streets looking for newspapers.

Sirius finished that a bit sadly, his mind flickering back to his having done the same in Hogsmeade and not appreciating the similarities to him and his godson in these lights. Harry was probably getting just as much food as a few rats at that place as well.

"Why were you scavenging for newspapers?" James asked with a wince, trying to deny he'd been picturing the same thing as Sirius.

Harry chewed on that for a moment, debating whether to tell them and get it over with or let the book tell as it most likely would, but it didn't take much to decide on the first as he explained the lackluster mail he'd been getting from his friends.

There was a moment of shocked silence before Remus shook his head sadly at Harry and said, "I think you're putting a little too much stock into your friends with that. What exactly do you think they're not telling you, Voldemort walking up the street? No, he's in hiding, they can't offer up anymore."

It was clear as day the anger in Harry's tone as he'd explained it, but this explanation didn't simmer him any. "I don't understand why they had to be so cryptic about it though, it made it sound like they knew something I didn't." This usually happened every time he was at the Dursley's, as old feelings never failed to pop up of his years of isolation there and it somehow felt so much worse that summer.

"Is that really safe?" Lily tried to change the subject into something she found far more important. "The only reason you're at that bleeding place is because you're somehow protected at that house, is wandering the streets a good idea?"

"I couldn't be locked up in that house all the time," Harry scowled, "I'd go mad and beg Ron to come get me again. It's Dumbledore's fault for not explaining that to me." He felt a little bad for his petulant tone when he watched everyone around him flinch, clearly they were all fearing some coming attack by Death Eaters now. Harry wasn't afraid of that, if it hadn't happened by now he didn't see why Voldemort's return would suddenly cause it. That wasn't entirely accurate though...had Death Eaters ever shown up in Private Drive? He was getting some interesting feelings trying to flip across his mind. He was in some kind of danger this summer, and he would be getting guests at his house...but then Sirius had kept going and he stopped thinking about it.

Finally the opening music for the local news began, and Harry was instantly on alert. His stomach clenched with anticipation, as hopefully tonight, after all this time...

"What are you hoping to find anyways?" James asked.

"Strange deaths, disappearances, anything indicating what Voldemort's doing," Harry said like he thought that was obvious.

"While I get what you're going for," Sirius shook his head at him, "I think you're getting a bit ahead of yourself. If that's the kind of stuff you were hoping Ron and Hermione would send you, then it's no wonder you're disappointed. Voldemort tries his hardest to keep himself in the shadows as often as possible, it's certainly scarier that way."

"Didn't you notice the pattern last year," James agreed. "Of the people we know he killed, they were all fairly insignificant and wouldn't have taken much notice. The only reason Bertha did was because most likely Crouch, and he had his own reasons to find her and his own secrets to protect, she was sloppy." No one could miss how haggard his face looked in the end as they all remembered who's sloppy kill that was.

"But someone must have some idea of what he is doing," Harry insisted, already realizing he was going to feel bad for the way he'd been thinking of his friends this summer once he'd had this explained.

"Well yes," Remus agreed, "but that's not something you'd put in a letter." Privately he also agreed he wasn't entirely sure if anyone in the Order would tell Harry even if they could. Sirius was the most likely, and they weren't even sure where he was right now. Remus seemed to have just fallen off the face of the earth and wouldn't be telling anyone anything, and clearly Dumbledore was trying to keep Harry out of the loop by having him at the Dursleys for as long as he was.

Harry grumbled a bit more but sighed in agreement.

It started with stranded holidaymakers because of a Spanish baggage-handler strike- but was cut off by Vernon muttering he hoped they enjoyed their siesta.

Lily was fighting back the urge of a few nasty insults she'd like to throw Vernon's way, she wanted Harry to leave this news venture just so she wouldn't have to hear his commentary on every little thing.

Hardly any of that registered with Harry though as he seemed to deflate with disappointment. Bigger news like deaths and destructions would have trumped stranded holidayers.

"While true," Remus agreed, "I'm not sure I understand your disappointment with that."

"Better to know what's going on than this constant wondering and worrying," Harry grumbled.

They wanted to argue the point, but what could they say. They couldn't tell Harry to at least try to enjoy his summer while he could, not where he was. He had nothing to take his mind off these things, and they could already feel the frustration rolling off of him in waves.

Harry forced himself to keep listening anyways, the same pattern as the rest of this summer. Waiting, tension building and expectations running wild until he sat down and heard the nothing, and the questions began again of why nothing had happened yet.

Lily sighed as she wrapped a tight arm around Harry, remembering back to his early days of discovering the wizarding world and how he'd spent his summer days longing to go back to school. She'd rather hear about that than his desire to go chasing after Voldemort.

The rest of the stories held no more intrigue for him, nor Vernon's commentary on it all. Especially the escalation of the drought story and Vernon's waspish comments as he hopped his neighbor heard this one, him with his sprinklers on at three in the morning.

"As if he's not doing the exact same thing," Remus scoffed.

"Actually he wasn't," Harry shrugged, "he treated us all to a lengthy dinner speech about the importance of upholding such laws and he found it befouling anyone would do otherwise."

"Yet another reason I intend on murdering him," James sneered, "torturing you with his arrogant attitude like that."

"Still as pompous an arse as ever then," Sirius rolled his eyes, though honestly he wouldn't be surprised if the man was still a hypocrite and did it without Harry's even noticing.

A helicopter had almost crashed in a field in Surrey,

"That counts as a little strange," Lily offered just to see her son stop looking like that for a moment, though she really didn't think it had anything to do with Voldemort.

"It was because they were training a new pilot though," Harry sighed, "I definitely found that believable enough."

then onto a story of some actresses divorce which Petunia stated shouldn't even be in here, though she'd put her bony hands on every scrap of news she could find.

"So she is a hypocrite," Lily sniffed, though she was well aware by this point.

Finally Harry lost his patience as Bungy the budgie had been trained to water ski!

"That's actually quite talented," Sirius snickered a bit at training a bird to do that.

"Muggle's have the strangest news," James had his head cocked to the side as he heard all of this.

If this had made it in there was no more point in listening, so Harry carefully rolled onto his front and was preparing himself to crawl far enough away from the window before he could stand again.

He hadn't made it an inch when a crack broke the street like a gunshot,

Sirius had never really gotten to a carefree mode of reading, Harry being around these people just made him too uneasy, but now he was reading as tense and upset as if Harry had been around that troll all over again. Anything that sounded like a gunshot couldn't be a good thing.

Even if James hadn't remembered what a gunshot was he would have instantly been as tense and upset as the others just from the way they all were.

a cat streaked out from under a parked car and flew out of sight;

Harry was too busy feeling the echo of adrenaline trying to jump him even if he didn't feel it now to wonder on why he should be thinking of that.

a shriek of fright echoed inside the house, and Harry was on his feet in the same second, unsheathing his wand for a fight.

Remus was far too concerned with the vision of Death Eater's really attacking Harry there to congratulate him on those reflexes.

He hadn't gained his full height yet when his head crashed into something.

Harry hissed and went cross eyed in pain as he rubbed the top of his head, but that still didn't drop the determined look on his face nor how his hand stayed tight around his wand. If he looked like this now with just a delayed after effect while trying not to do anything about it, they could all easily imagine how fierce he looked on the actual situation. It didn't do much to make any of them feel better as they all remembered just how alone he was there.

Harry tried to stagger away and keep his eyes focused on everything, to understand where that noise had come from, but before he'd got his bearings back two hands entrapped his throat from the open window.

For a moment Sirius was convinced someone was squeezing their hands around his throat, his vision blurred out as he saw red then black from what he'd just forced out in shock. There was just no way possible that monster was actually squeezing his godson's throat!

Then a monstrous noise registered, and Sirius wasn't allowed to act on whatever his impulse had been leading him to break because he was flying into action.

"Let me GO!" James continued to thrash no matter how tight the hold on him was. "I don't care if I get knocked out, I'll kill him before I do!"

Remus nearly fell back down the stairs, he'd bolted up there and put the baby down in his crib the moment he realized what all was happening and only just came back in time to try and stop his friend as well. "Think about what your saying Prongs," Remus begged, trying to stay in his face while avoiding the thrashing limbs. "You won't get a foot when Harry's going to have to drag your arse back here, and what if it's worse this time-"

"I don't care!" James howled, his elbow now slamming repeatedly into Sirius' ribs as he kept trying to make his way to that bleeding door.

Harry watched with horror at this reaction, which finally wore off when his fingers started grasping at the handle, so he darted forward to try and say his part, "Dad, please, it-"

"AND YOU!" James snarled, his face the deepest shade of red as his wild eyes flashed between the door and his son now. "You lied to me! You said they never put hands on you!"

"I said they never left a bruise," Harry quickly corrected.

He blinked as all three of them froze in what they were doing and just stared at him, Sirius arms even went slack and James clearly didn't notice.

James stood there, vibrating in place as he snarled, "lying by omission is still a lie Harry! The bloody hell, how many times had he done this!?"

Harry was frowning in concern, rocking on his feet as he watched him with unease, but when he failed to answer James made a guttural, maddening sound as he stormed away, at least in the opposite direction up the stairs. He shoved a vase off a stand on the way, though as Lily noted when she darted after him it had been a gift from Petunia so it seemed fitting.

The last thing the three at the bottom of the stairs herd was a few more objects breaking and Lily crying, "no, James, not that one!"

Harry's face was stark white in shock as he whispered, "he's really mad at me."

Remus and Sirius exchanged a broken look. Neither of them were feeling much calmer than their friend, but the terror now written on Harry was doing a pretty good job of reminding them they shouldn't try and mimic his actions.

"Not you," Remus sighed,

"-by much," Sirius muttered.

"but Harry, what were you thinking?" Remus quickly moved past that sense it only made Harry look even more upset.

"I just," he threw his hands up in the air in frustration, his mind scrambling as he tried to come up with a way to make them see. "You guys have to understand I never told anyone about this, anyone. Not Ron, it just-" he sighed and flattened his hair onto his head for a moment, starting to pace and still throwing panicked eyes at the stairs where now no noise at all could be heard.

Sirius sucked in a deep breath, watching Harry pad back and forth for several more beats before saying, "I get that. It took me ages to tell James what my mum did to me."

Harry paused then, watching Sirius with dark weary eyes. Sirius leaned back against the stairs banister, trying for all the world to look casual as he said, "I grew up a nosy little child, always asking one to many questions, and my mum hated that. She always said I was never a proper Black, and she tended to curse me for it, a lot. Her favorite was to use the Transmogrifian Torture, it popped a limb out of socket and she'd leave it like that until I properly apologized and said I'd do better and stuff. That never left a bruise either," he finished with a mutter, rubbing absently at his shoulder.

He looked over to see Harry had a new kind of horrified look on his face, and Sirius nodded solemnly as he kept going, "things didn't get any better for me once I started school. My first morning there when she'd found out I was in Gryffindor, she sent me a howler so bad it made what Neville's Gran and Ron's mum sent look like a love letters. I ran out of there trying my damndest not to cry, and James caught up to me and demanded to know what that was about. I didn't tell him, not really, just kind of fudged around it and we ended up missing our first Transfiguration class, though for some reason McGonagall didn't say anything to me," he added with a rueful smile. "Then Remus let us borrow his notes so that we could do our homework, so it was never even brought up. He wasn't even technically our friend yet."

"I think I just somehow knew I'd better get used to it," Remus said with a roll of his eyes, taking a seat on the steps anyways and propping his head in his hands like he was trying to pretend this was all casual stuff.

Sirius gave him a nudge with his foot before rounding up, "I didn't go home for that Christmas or Easter holiday, but my summer there wasn't pretty. She basically disowned me, swearing up and down I could never make up for this terrible mistake I made." He gave a tragic look to the ceiling, then smirked at Harry before finishing, "a memory I look back on quite fondly now."

They watched Harry for another second, and this time he did open his mouth before quickly closing it, clearly still dithering, so Remus instead said, "my parents are afraid of me."

Sirius had to bite back the instant feeling he had of correcting Remus, he'd only met his parents twice and he'd never gotten that impression, but Remus seemed to feel anyone who wasn't an Animagus was afraid of him no matter what they said. It was one of the reasons he avoided his own dad now.

"What?" He squawked in surprise, looking Remus in the eye to make sure that wasn't some cruel joke.

He just shrugged however, though his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his robes showed his careless tone wasn't really all there as he explained, "well, they certainly never look me in the eye. They asked me if I could even try to stay at Hogwarts over summer break because they realized the school was much better equipped to handle me. During my full moons, they'd shut me up in a room, sort of like they had to do here, and then leave the house for twenty four hours, just to make sure they weren't around for any part of the cycle."

Harry's mouth was actually hanging open in shock now, which only made Remus give a not at all amused smile. "Oh they took care of me after the fact, bandaged me up and all that. I never knew if it was shame, or fear, or something else, but I do know I stopped going around my parents place not long after I left school, and they've never asked me over since. Last time I saw them was when my Mum passed away and I honestly thought when I was asked up to the hospital it was a joke."

Harry seemed to realize he was staring then, and quickly closed his mouth, but at least this time he didn't turn away from them and instead ran his hand through his hair some more as he said haplessly, "I, don't know what you want me to say. He throttled me sometimes, but only when I was much younger, when my magic was really obvious. He only did it till I went slack, and I learned to do that pretty fast, then he'd lock me in my cupboard until he'd decided I'd learned my lesson. It never did leave a bruise," he emphasized, now rubbing absently at his throat in remembrance.

"How come you never went to the police, told someone," Remus asked gently.

Harry rolled his eyes at what he felt was an absurd question. "Even if I'd had the gall to, which I didn't as Vernon terrified me through most of my younger years, I had no proof, which he'd occasionally point out whenever someone looked at me on the street to long. You think I didn't notice that Dudley and I were clearly so different from each other. But Vernon always said that if I ever said a word about how they'd dealt with any of my weirdness, I couldn't prove it. They'd say that Dudley's second bedroom was mine, and they really only did take food away from me whenever my magic was acting up, never so much I was malnourished."

He paused then, a calculating look on his face as he added, "I don't really think Petunia or Dudley knew, or if they did they didn't care. Petunia was certainly all for the food part though, so I may not put it past them."

Harry looked back to see that a nerve was thumping in both of their jaws, and he was quick to tack on, "he really did stop after I turned eleven though. He was definitely to afraid of my magic, and it really wasn't that frequent."

"And your twelfth birthday," Sirius managed to get out in a steel tone.

Harry flattened his hair with nerves, but at this point recognized there was no reason not to tell them. "Okay, yeah, he did it then until I did pass out. Woke up in the bathroom and they wouldn't let me out until Vernon had put those bars on my window. They've got their own bathroom in their bedroom, so it hardly put them out."

He crossed his arms defensively when they just kept staring at him. "What? What I just said isn't nearly as bad as what you two had."

While they weren't exactly going to argue with him over such a topic it hardly made what he did say feel better.

Up the stairs in their room, Lily watched James collapse on the bed. He'd taken his glasses off first, so that he could press his hands so hard into his face, his palms digging into his eyes, he looked like he was trying to gouge them out.

"James," she whispered, sinking down beside him, but completely at a loss for words.

"I can't stop seeing it," he got out through a restricted throat. "The cupboard, Pettigrew, Harry watching Cedric get murdered right in front of him, now this. I'm fighting this war to try and save my only child, and at this rate my dying feels about as useful as my life."

"Don't-" she begged at once, her hands latching onto his, trying to pull them away, but he still managed to keep going, "I couldn't even save you. You're the one who saved Harry, I just got tossed aside like the useless thing I am-"

"James, please, you can't be thinking like that." She cut him off, nearly begging to try and get him to stop. She had to tug hard for a moment, but finally his hands slid away to reveal bloodshot eyes. She stayed leaning over him, hazel matching green as she whispered, "don't you think I'm feeling the same way. She was my sister James, and she's doing this to my baby, but don't you start talking like that now. We will find a way to fix this, make it so that Harry never has to be without us again."

James gave a derisive snort, his eyes still vacant as he whispered, "some dad I'd turned out to be anyways, Harry's been lying his arse off since he got here, and did you see that look on his face. Now I've scared him senseless, I'll be lucky if he doesn't look at me the way he does Vernon now. Should probably just hand him over to Sirius already and be done with it for all the-"

Lily popped him on the forehead, and when he only winced but kept at his insane mutterings, she smacked him, hard.

"James, listen to yourself," she pleaded. "If Harry doesn't understand why you were so upset then that's because he's never had his father around to be upset on his behalf, but he could never put you and Vernon in the same scope of his life. You're too good a person, and he knows that."

His face twitched, like he wanted to believe her but couldn't quite grasp the emotion yet, so she kept going. "And if you actually think Harry would replace Sirius with you if he had the chance, then you really need a reality check. They both love you, and they need you. It's a damn cruel world where Harry's from that you're not in the picture, but both of them would do anything to change that."

He closed his eyes then, his jaw still shaking, a few tears managing to escape, but at least for a moment Lily had seen the flash in him like he believed that.

There was silence for a long time between them, Lily not moving a muscle and James trying to get his under control, until finally he took a careful breath in through his nose and releasing it through his mouth before whispering, "I love you."

"I love you to," she said back at once.

He opened his eyes then, watching her for several more beats before moving like he was going to sit up. Lily sat back and let him, but she was at once buried into his chest as he wrapped his arms as tight around her as he could. "What did I do to deserve you?" He muttered into her hair.

"If I figure it out, I'll let you know," she returned, snuggling him for as long as they both needed, before he took another deep breath and whispered;

"Guess I should go back down and face them."

"They're all worried sick about you," Lily said at once. "You looked likely to jump through a window when you came pelting up here."

He made an odd noise, one Lily couldn't decide if it was in agreement or protest, but then he took to his feet, put his glasses back on, and started for the door, her hand still tightly in his, their rings pressed together.

As they came back down they saw Remus had to hop out of the way, and quickly took in the other two. Sirius who was an ugly gray but trying to pretend he was acting normal, and Harry's arms crossed and still looking defensive. It did not improve his mood that when Harry saw him, his foot looked like he wanted to take an automatic step back, but he met his eyes and at once whispered, "I'm sorry."

James opened his mouth, couldn't think of anything to say, closed it, and walked past him back to the living room. Lily met her son's eyes as well, but didn't release her hold on James and instead hissed something at him as James made for the recliner. He didn't respond, instead sinking down into that and pulling his wife with him. She perched on his lap, giving him a look that said plainly she did not approve of his actions, but when he wrapped his arms around her waist again and didn't look up to moving, she just rolled her eyes and looked back towards them expectantly.

"He's mad at me," Harry murmured for Sirius and Remus' ears alone.

"Only for the next hour or so," Sirius waved it off. "I pissed him off real good when I denied what my mother had been doing to me for most of my childhood. These two asked me a lot of the same questions they'd been asking you when I came back from holiday, and I gave a lot of the same answers. Didn't admit to it all till I ran away, and even while he was helping me unpack he was ribbing me."

"If there's one thing you want to do to piss Prongs off, it is lie to him," Remus nodded in agreement. "When he found out how long I'd gone without telling him about my being a werewolf, he was really ticked, so much so he went and did something illegal," he finished with an amused smile, causing Sirius at least to laugh.

Harry did not join in, still watching his dad with clear guilt on his face, but followed the other two as they went back into the room as well. He stood in the doorway, and finally he couldn't take it anymore. He'd never in his life imagined his father so angry with him, and the rejection trying to well up inside him and cast a new shade of light on every good memory he'd collected so far had the words bursting out of him before he'd considered them. "I'm sorry, alright. I'll tell you, I promise-" he tried to think of some way to begin, but the words failed him, so honestly stalling for time he finished in a whisper, "after this chapter's over."

James only hesitated a beat, nodded to indicate he'd heard, but still didn't unbury himself from Lily's back.

Harry quickly shuffled to the farthest sofa away, trying to curl himself into the cushions and looking anywhere but at his parents.

James had his face pressed into Lily's spine, doing a terrible job of pretending he wasn't paying attention to any of them, while Lily was giving him the stank eye over her shoulder but clearly wasn't moving until she saw something else.

Remus and Sirius exchanged uneasy looks, but finally Remus sat down next to Harry and Sirius went back to fetch the book. The last thing he actually wanted to do was go back and see how long Vernon had his hands on Harry before his little pup passed out, for all he knew he'd barely get a few more words in before he incited rage all over again from himself and James. Normally this would be the time Harry would step in, read for them as a reminder he was fine, but for now he was pretending to be invisible.

It also occurred to all three of them that they'd had this conversation when James and Lily hadn't even been here, so they'd never even gotten their sons full confession. Remus and Sirius locked eyes, knowing now probably wasn't the time, but hopefully by the end of this chapter everyone would be at least a bit calmer and they'd convince Harry to tell Lily and James what he'd told them. Sirius fidgeted with the page for a long time, before finally the silence dragged on and he felt he had no other choice but to keep going.*

Vernon was snarling into Harry's ear to put that thing away before anyone saw it!

Harry tried to pry his fingers away, telling him to get off, all while keeping his wand steadily pointed.

Sirius' fingers were so tight around the book they were beginning to hurt, but he couldn't release his hold one little bit, he was too busy picturing them being around Vernon's neck.

The pain of it all piqued, and Vernon yelped as he removed himself from Harry.

Remus wasn't even distracted by the coppery taste of blood in his mouth from biting his tongue to stop himself uttering a string of constant curses, his own throat vibrating violently already showing how he felt about having to imagine that being done to Harry. The very worst part was, this still wasn't the worst thing happening. There could still be danger around Harry, and Vernon was merely causing a fatal distraction.

An invisible force seemed to have surged through his nephew, making him impossible to hold.

Lily's face was ghastly white as that image kept floating just behind her mind's eye, blocking out her once peaceful living room and adult son trying to burrow himself out of sight behind Sirius and into the couch. How many times had this happened in his youth? Often enough it was clear this was a common reaction of Vernon's to begin throttling Harry, even in plain view of the street like that. Had his accidental magic ever kicked in before? Or had he never held on so long this happened? She hardly wanted answers to any of these questions, she was still likely to vomit and start skinning that walrus already with her own.

Harry stumbled out of the plants and forced himself to remain on the rest of the street, but there was no sign of any person to have made that noise. There were people starting to peek into the street.

This only reinforced what Lily had just been thinking though, and now she couldn't shake the thought! How on earth was that excuse- that was such a blatant sign of abuse and surely someone had just seen it as the neighbors were looking around. Did everyone in that neighborhood care so little about Harry's well being because of the Dursley's lies no one was going to do anything about this!

Harry stuffed his wand hastily back into his jeans and tried to look innocent.

Harry glanced half hopefully at Remus or Sirius, like he was hoping one of them would make a joke at his expense, but neither of them did, they were still too pail from anger to take the bait. Both were thinking of themselves in the future, what they wished they'd already done to Vernon but each having never done so and neither finding it excusable.

Vernon began playing it off at once, waving cheerfully to all and shouting about some car backfiring.

James still had his face buried in his wife's hair, though the fiery color was doing little to improve his mood it still held the only comfort he could find at the moment, and was far to distracted to ask what on earth that could mean in any relation to the noise Harry reacted to. He was just more disgusted Vernon was playing off his own moment.

He continued to grin in a horrible, manic way,

"I've never seen him grin like anything else though," Harry grumbled softly, as the silence apart from the violent reading was starting to freak him out. He'd grown far to used to the constant flow of commentary, and had learned that long lapses in silence like this were usually at the worst of times. He didn't agree this leveled up with other moments.

until the other faces vanished. Then his grin flipped to rage as he beckoned Harry back to him.

Harry flinched in shock at the eruption of growls in the room, but at least this time he understood why. He hadn't wanted to be back in arm's reach of Vernon then either.

Harry only moved a few steps closer, being careful to remain out of arm's reach.

It was highly unlikely before this moment that the Dursleys were going to live much longer when they were released from this place, but now whatever wavering may have persisted at Harry's words wouldn't even hold. It was utterly astounding he'd ever done so when he clearly had memories of this happening to him in his younger years!

He hissed at Harry what he meant by it?

"I hope he had the bleeding piss scared out of him," Remus hissed, choosing to focus on the disappointment this moment didn't cause Vernon heart failure rather than the still lingering fear of what was going on to start this.

Harry asked what he meant while still investigating the street for the noise that had started this.

Despite James' hands still wrapped tight around her waist, Lily was still fighting the urge to go over to her son right now and have him in her arms to make absolutely certain there wasn't anything wrong with him because of this instance. To run her hands gently over his neck, to be where he was and be just as certain no one was going to harm her son while he was surrounded by all those Muggles.

He furiously retorted Harry had made that sound, but Harry interrupted he hadn't done that.

Petunia's face appeared next to Vernon's now, demanding to know what he'd been doing outside their window then?

Sirius had to work furiously with himself not to give some waspish reply, that was far to similar to how his mother had treated him in the house he'd grown up in. Treating every room that wasn't his as if Sirius were trespassing in it.

Vernon at once agreed with his wife, she'd made a good point.

James felt his lip curling up in disgust, did that man have a single brain cell of his own?

Harry sighed before answering, and the two exchanged a look of outrage.

Harry almost laughed as he remembered those looks as compared to the ones his family still had in place. Vernon and Petunia had nothing on outrage when it came to them.

They demanded why he was doing this again, and Harry reminded it changed every day.

That did it. Harry's unexpected comment cracked Remus and he snorted in surprise but just as quickly tried to stifle his giggling. It wasn't hard, he could still feel bloodlust wanting him to curse something into oblivion, but at least Harry met his eyes and grinned back which made it worth it.

Vernon snapped at him to stop lying, his lot did not get onto their news!

Petunia whispered at his side to be careful, the neighbors could still be listening.

Lily rolled her eyes and tisked in disgust. She didn't care it was nearly fourteen years later for the man, he knew perfectly well her lot did in fact end up on the news from time to time, it had been what had drawn the man to question Petunia about Lily's whereabouts all those years ago. Either he'd blocked the memory or he'd forgotten, either way she no longer needed an excuse to find anything he said or did the lowest form of stupid.

Harry shot back that's all they knew.

The two exchanged a look again before Petunia called him a liar. He shouldn't have need of their news, he got his own from those owls.

"Because Merlin forbid he just get letters from his friends," Sirius muttered tersely. His knuckles still white around the books edge and the fearsome tone of his voice hadn't dropped one bit and Harry was starting to grow worried that none of them seemed to be breathing normally for a while now.

Harry hesitated responding, it pulled at him to tell the truth this time,

"Why do you bother!?" James couldn't stop his snap of outrage, but either Harry was expecting it this time or he just rolled with it Harry didn't flinch this time before answering calmly, "I rarely see a point in lying if I can help it." He did finish on a wince though as all of them gave him looks of disbelief for that, considering his lie by omission was a part of the reason everyone in here looked more than angry. He sighed and muttered something, but was sick of lingering on this topic so shot at Sirius, "do you want me to read through this part?"

"No," Sirius snapped right back, turning his boggling eyes away from Harry for now and effectively hiding a tint of hurt now. He couldn't help it though, he seemed to go out of his way to tell those Dursleys the truth as often as he could, but wouldn't for them? In his time or now?

but finally he admitted those owls weren't bringing real news.

Both snapped they didn't believe him at once.

"Don't see the point of telling them the truth when clearly they think he's lying about everything anyways," Lily was still hissing under her breath so low only James could hear, and he was in full agreement.

Petunia said she knew he was up to something,

"Like what exactly?" Remus rolled his eyes in contempt.

"Don't know, never asked for details," Harry said with a happy enough smile, at least someone was trying to push back into playing this off even if every part of Remus clearly didn't feel it. Harry was honestly wishing Remus hadn't put the baby away now, even that little infant would have helped them feel better.

and Vernon added on they weren't stupid.

There were several colorful comments each of them could have made to that, but considering Vernon would have long since died before this conversation had taken place if any of them had had their way besides Harry, Sirius didn't bother listening to the variety and instead kept up his lackluster reading in hopes this chapter would just end. Anger and worry were still at war with each other over Harry's predicament, and he wanted some kind of proof his little pup wasn't about to be attacked right there on the street and that Vernon was going to have his hands removed soon, not necessarily in that order.

Harry snapped back that was news to him!

Remus couldn't help it that time, he did manage a soft laugh under his breath for Harry's wit, but he was still the only one.

Harry couldn't help rolling his eyes at what he was now considering an overreaction from everyone else. He was fine, and if they really wanted another apology he'd give it just to stop all of this ugly silence and silent death threats he could still feel pulsing through the room.

He didn't wait for a response, but instead stormed off before either of them could call him back and was soon at the end of the street.

Lily blinked spastically for a moment as fear finally trumped anger. Harry was only at that place because apparently it was safe from dark attacks, but now he'd up and left with the noise of an apparition still going unexplained. Exactly how far was that protection magic around number four? Just the house, the street? Yet for even a second to turn around and say she wanted Harry to stay at that house for a moment longer would always feel wrong, it really spoke volumes she'd prefer Harry's chances with a dark wizard rather than her sister and husband in law.

He was in trouble now and he knew it.

Remus was dying to ask Harry what he defined as 'trouble' with those people. Another round of strangling? Harry'd made it clear it wasn't that common, but now he truly was in the dark of how much Harry could be leaving out there. Sirius was still reading every word as a death sentence and very clearly wanting to finish this, and since Remus was well aware Harry wasn't getting out of this conversation again at the end of the chapter he didn't bring it up for now.

He would have to face his aunt and uncle later and pay the price for his rudeness,

Sirius couldn't take the suspense anymore and did ask, "pay what price exactly?"

Harry wanted to sigh and roll his eyes, try and play this all off or just ignore it like he had in the past, but at this point he was sure that wouldn't help any. He didn't see how telling them the entire truth would make it much better, but he wasn't sure it could get any worse either. "Threats mostly, he knew he couldn't do anything to me, even if he knew I wasn't supposed to be doing magic he was still afraid I would after Marge. Locking me in the shed mostly, he even kept the padlock all nice and polished," he finished with a forced laugh like looking back made it funny rather than as menacing as he'd honestly found it, but he'd instead been right the first time, several disturbing noises promising more violence and more death glares at the door showed his honesty had won him nothing.

but he didn't care at that moment, his mind still on other matters.

That cracking noise was one made when someone Apparated, or Disapparated.

Harry was still very distracted by the tension that had practically taken up a seat in this room, and he had no want to think about the tingling feeling saying he could have a gut answer to that question.

No one else had really forgotten what had started the instance either, and honestly fear was starting to trump outrage. None of them could wait to start wringing Vernon's neck themselves, they'd probably have to find an object to do so considering their hands wouldn't wrap around but that wasn't the point. Now though, now that Harry was away from him, the reason he'd left was hovering in the forefront just waiting to pounce on their aching hearts. Most likely it was a Death Eater coming for Harry, and he'd now left the only protection he'd had.

Harry may not have understood why as he wasn't fearing the same thing, but he was relieved when Sirius finally started reading in less blood thirsty tones and hoped he'd finally switch back to at least semi normal.

It was exactly the noise he'd heard Dobby make, and suddenly wondered if it was the house-elf that was the cause of this?

Lily could tell she was the only one who was desperately hoping for that to be the answer. The other boys were all still too upset to even consider any kind of good option other than an attack waiting, but Lily was honestly hoping now it was Dobby with some cryptic new message. She'd take that over a fight for his life as strung out as she was right now.

Could Dobby be invisible right now following him? Harry suddenly whirled on the spot like he expected to see the tiny creature hovering right behind him, but still there was nothing, and Dobby could not become invisible.

Harry was looking on at nothing in a funny sort of way, his face twisted as he was so sure he was moments away from realizing something, about being followed by invisible-

"Not invisible," Remus agreed uneasily, "but you do know he can hide at least in a bush." His thoughts were hovering the same as the other boys, that a wizard could be hidden even more easily. Though it did beg the question, if Harry was under attack, why the hiding at all? Were they waiting until he was far enough away from Private Drive to attack? It was hard to see another motive when they were all still on the edge of their seat and white faced from anger.

He kept up his trudging pace, paying no attention to his route as he'd traced through these streets so much of late he would often wander to his favorite spots without thinking.

Lily tried to force herself to see some good news in this, that this wasn't Harry's first foray out of that house that summer and he hadn't been attacked yet. Her hand tightened around James' though as her mind just kept offering up more terrible solutions, that he was just being watched, and someone was waiting.

He couldn't stop glancing back over his shoulder, still convinced there was something magical about that noise he'd heard amongst Petunias begonias.

Harry fidgeted with unease as he was just as sure of this fact now, but he felt no impending threat from this like he was now aware those around him did. Yet that didn't stop a trickle of sweat breaking over the back of his neck as he couldn't find it in himself to comfort them either, to promise nothing bad was going to happen this night. In fact he was now fighting back the impulse to take the book away from Sirius again for a wholly other reason, something bad was going to happen to him tonight and he didn't think his godfather in particular was going to enjoy it.

Why hadn't they come up to him?

Remus shook his head in disbelief at Harry as he asked, "did it really not occur to you this could be an attack?"

"Not really," he sighed. "Dumbledore said the only reason I was going there was because it was supposed to be safe."

They wished they had that kind of faith in Dumbledore, but seeing as they'd never once seen that house as any kind of safe none of them agreed.

As his question burned, his certainty faded. Perhaps it hadn't been a magical noise at all, but something perfectly ordinary Harry was trying to see more into.

"Glory Harry, now I know you've been spending too much time with those muggles," Sirius sighed. "Trying to write off our instances as normal things."

Harry finally felt a real smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as Sirius tried for a joke again, somehow it felt better to watch them worry about something they knew he lived through like some impending attack then fear for his health at the Dursleys.

Feeling hopeless and alone, the same thoughts began plaguing him as they had all summer.

Lily felt James twitch behind her, the compulsion to go comfort his son when he heard of that feeling rearing its head and pushing away his own feelings. He sighed deeply, but finally unburied himself from her hair and glanced around at Harry now to see a far away, contemplative look on his face as he rubbed absently at his head while Sirius read, but thankfully there weren't any traces of hopelessness in him now.

Tomorrow the pattern would continue, he'd awake at five o'clock sharp to receive his Daily Prophet, though he often questioned why he continued to bother with the paper as he only took a passing glance at the headline and tossed it in the bin. If the idiots running it finally found news of Voldemort's return, that would be the first page, which was all Harry cared for.

Remus shook his head at Harry's naivety, he was looking for odd instances occurring in the Muggle news but only scanning front headlines of theirs? He was most likely going off his experience last year of the two headlines featuring Barty Crouch and Bertha Jorkins, but those weren't always front cover stories. Sometimes it took a few page flips to find anything remotely interesting other than politics and Quidditch scores. He wasn't going to bring this up to Harry now though, no since in riling him up when soon enough they were going to be hearing more about odd happenings in the book than they already were from their own Daily Prophet from this timeline.

Ron and Hermione would likely send him another letter soon, but they were of no more help.

"News like what?" Sirius couldn't stop himself from asking. "Merlin Harry don't you ever just send fun letters to your friends detailing all the times you've tried to kill your cousin."

Harry just rolled his eyes as he found the question obvious and considered the rest all joking, but he was wrong. Sirius wasn't the only one wondering if Harry would ever get anything resembling a normal life which now seemed laughable with Voldemort's return.

Quoting such things in his head about how busy they were, and they couldn't put much in these letters for obvious reasons, but they promised they'd be seeing him soon.

"That would get on anyone's nerves though," Remus sympathized. "Did they have to be so vague?"

"Wonder why you haven't been invited over to the Burrow yet," Lily agreed softly.

Harry just hummed in annoyed agreement, having no idea why he'd feel like correcting his mother he never made a trip to the Burrow this summer.

That was all that was given though, not a single mention of any specific timeline of when Harry would be joining his friends. He'd picked up some hints that his two friends were together, most likely at Ron's place.

"Now that's just hurtful," Sirius gave an exaggerated pout which was worth it when Harry almost cracked a smile at him. Sirius wanted to still be angry, he was certainly still worried, but Harry was starting to look sickly pale again and he didn't want his pup to be remembering whatever was fixing to happen while still thinking everyone was still mad at him.

It tormented him so much to think of the two having the time of their life at the Burrow while he was stuck here, he'd thrown away the chocolates they'd sent him for his birthday unopened.

"Now that was just hurtful, I don't think I've ever been that mad at anyone."

James still sounded off, but he met Harry's eyes so no matter how much hurt and anger was still there, Harry smiled right back.

He'd regretted it later after the wilted salad Aunt Petunia had provided for dinner that night.

Harry's kindling annoyance was certainly muted from what it had been at the age of fifteen, but it was helping that those around him were finally starting to act at least sort of normal again, so Harry tried not to linger too much on the hurt feelings he remembered feeling from his friends.

Just what were his friends so busy with? Why wasn't he busy with them? Hadn't be proved himself capable of handling more than them!

"What does handling situations have to do with anything?" Lily asked in confusion. "They're not taking Ron and Hermione out on Order missions, most likely Molly's keeping them busy with chores."

Harry at first felt a flash of confusion, like he was quite sure his friends did know something of what was going that he still wasn't privy to, but it was at once drowned out by his certainty that his mother was right and his friends were keeping quite busy and not in a way they were enjoying. It was all very strange considering he still couldn't imagine the Burrow coming into play. In answer, he simply shrugged with some chagrin and said, "well when you put it like that it sounds ridiculous, but yeah that's pretty much what was on my mind. They were out there getting told everything while I was stuck-" he finished with a wince, not having any proper way to refer to the Dursleys anymore without watching them all flash with another bout of anger.

Had they forgotten what he'd done, what he'd been forced to see happen to Cedric while he'd been tied to a tombstone?

Lily felt her throat nearly swollen shut. She couldn't stand just sitting here and letting him go through all that! It was killing her not to ask if he'd talked about this with anyone, but she knew he hadn't, he'd said so himself. The only people he'd ever even remotely brought it up with were Ron and Hermione, and that hadn't been the real talk Harry needed, just his friends listening to him chat about what Voldemort could be up to now.

She took one look at Harry's face though and could tell now still wasn't the time to be bringing this up. Harry's face was still lined with tension as he tried to throw covert looks at his father and was still glancing periodically at the door. Clearly whatever they were trying to prove in showing they were trying to move past that moment wasn't fooling him completely, and bringing back up that graveyard moment would only make him feel worse. She wanted her son to feel safe here, not like she was constantly interrogating him, so it was probably best to wait at least until he was at the Burrow and she could trust Hermione to bring it up for her.

Harry at once cut off that train of thought and scolded himself for the hundredth time that summer.

Sirius read all that with such a horrid wince it looked like his face was going to spasm off, but Harry couldn't think of a word of comfort for him or anyone. He couldn't help what his mind dwelled on, and even without the month long time span in between remembering that and where he was now, he could still remembering what it felt like. It was a mercy being here and not being able to constantly relive that moment like his dreams had been trying to do last night, but at least here he had distractions with his family so he couldn't dwell on that. At the Dursley's he'd had nothing.

It was bad enough he kept visiting the place in his nightmares, he did his best not to think on them in his waking moments too.

Green met green as the two shared a look, Harry trying this very hardest to act like this was no big deal. He was failing, and Lily knew full well what she'd woken him from last night with her gentle touch, but she wasn't going to call him out either as clearly he was not going to have this conversation on top of the Dursleys spit out he was expecting very soon.

None of the boys were remotely surprised either, they'd all heard the noise Harry had been making last night and it really wasn't surprising if they thought about it. His recurring memories would of course bring back the dreams he'd be lingering on when he was that age.

He took a sharp turn and just happened to pass the alleyway he'd first laid eyes on his godfather. Sirius' letters had been just as unhelpful, but at least they were filled more with caution and sympathy with such quotes as reminders to keep himself out of trouble, and he understood this was frustrating to Harry but still not to do anything rash.

Sirius had to work hard at it, but finally he got a tragic look strung across his face before looking around at Harry and demanding, "why do you always take the advice I give you like that? That's sound logic with what I know you get up to."

Harry just gave him an exasperated look back, he wasn't going to explain himself twice and he knew he'd had several mental rants about his godfather as well as his friends. Plus, at least he'd started with the nicety that Sirius understood him.

He'd at least been following that advice, or at least, he hadn't strung his broom to his trunk yet and flown off to The Burrow.

"Honestly you deserve a lot of credit for restraining yourself," Remus chuckled, "I know Sirius himself wouldn't have lasted."

Harry gave an absent smile as he tried to visualize it, but all he was finding was an empty house at the end, which made no sense. Of course the Weasley's would be at their home.

Harry honestly found it galling his godfather giving such advice from the same man who'd broken out of prison to come to Hogwarts and then escaped from there on a stolen hippogriff.

James and Remus couldn't help throwing their heads back in surprised laughter while Sirius' smile turned utterly indulgent.

"Well when you put it like that-" he began to agree, when Remus got a hold of himself and spoke over him, "the best part is, that's still not the most wild thing he's ever done. Don't think we've yet told you about the time a Ravenclaw dared him to tie a string up to-"

"You're going to give Harry the wrong impression about me," Sirius cut him off with a wagging finger and a mischievous smirk.

"What impression would that be?" Harry demanded as he laughed along, finally feeling the releasing tension from his shoulders as they all got a laugh again.

"That I was some scoundrel who deserved that detention," Sirius said, making his eyes go wider with innocence. "I'll tell you that one when I know these two idiots won't paint me in a bad light."

"You know that's never going to happen," James muttered loud enough they all heard anyways, but Sirius kept going with a smug smirk.

He'd reached the park now and sat down in one of the remaining swings, his mind still busy with all of these weighing thoughts. Tomorrow he'd have to come up with some new way to listen in on the news.

"You could always try hanging from the gutters," Remus couldn't help but suggest while he rolled his eyes.

"That's not nearly as comfortable or long term helpful," Sirius shook his head, "though I suppose if the telly's loud enough anyways, he could just lay on the roof, I'm sure he's agile enough to get up there."

"Why do we keep your friends around again?" Lily muttered to James as she watched them have a light bicker over the pros and cons of both while Harry watched indulgently.

"You know you love them," was James' only response. He couldn't decide if he wanted them to stop and keep going so that this bleeding chapter would be done with and he'd feel at least a little better talking to Harry again now that he'd cooled down, or keep listening to something so silly as a kind distraction. Harry made the decision for him.

While it was clear he was enjoying the show, and was the least looking forward to this chapter being over as it would only put him back in the spotlight, he still cleared his throat significantly to at least get past the danger they were all feeling because of that cracking noise still having gone unexplained.

He had nothing else to do after all, even his dreams left him restless. If he wasn't revisiting the graveyard and all that had happened there, he was instead traveling long dark corridors ending in locked doors.

Whatever amusement his pseudo uncles had just given Harry vanished at once as Harry shivered violently. He looked more frightened in that moment then he ever had when realizing what Vernon had been doing to him. Even as Harry tried to shake it off though and just tell the others he truly hated being kept there now more than ever, there was something lingering about Sirius reading about that place...

He supposed those had something to do with the trapped feeling he had when he was awake.

"Well that makes sense," Lily said fairly to try and get rid of at least one of the worry lines that hadn't gone away in ages now in her son.

"You sound like Trelawney," Sirius told her for the soul purpose of switching her worried eyes to being agitated upon him. "Dreams don't mean nothing."

Lily curled up her lip at him, prepared to give a volley of colorful retorts to that comparison, but Sirius promptly ignored her and smugly went back to reading.

The scar on his forehead prickled from time to time to further randomly agitate him, but he hadn't bothered mentioning this to anyone, knowing they wouldn't find that interesting any more.

"Of course I would!" Sirius spluttered at once, any amusement he'd collected for himself vanishing at once. "It means it's bothering you, and less importantly, I get to know when Voldemort's annoyed by something. That all matters very much to me."

Harry studied him for a moment before simply shrugging. He knew Sirius truly was concerned for his well being, but he still hadn't found the need to write his godfather any more than his friends of the annoying pain, it would only make his letters even more repetitious and not even remotely helpful as far as he'd been aware.

He already knew the response he'd get, that it was just going to happen more frequently because Voldemort was back, nothing to worry about, old news.

"You make us comforting you sound so drab," Sirius sighed.

"And I'm confident no one would be telling you that was old news," Lily added on forcefully, she knew no one Harry was sending that information to would just write him off like that.

Remus just winced and chose to say nothing, he couldn't even pretend to say how he'd respond because apparently he didn't exist anymore outside Dumbledore telling Sirius to go find his useless arse.

The injustice of it all welled up inside him so that he wanted to yell with fury.

"I'd suggest letting that out then, alone in the park," James told him. "Better than on someone who doesn't deserve it." Or someone who might resume strangling him because Harry raised his voice. He wouldn't put anything past that monster.

Harry got a rather sheepish look about him though, like he was worried that might be exactly what happened.

He'd been the one to tell everyone Voldemort was back! Yet his reward was to lay around Little Whinging for weeks cut off from the rest of the world, forced to listen to useless news surrounded by dead begonias!

Lily winced at the sharp volume Sirius was using while yelling Harry's thoughts, she honestly believed Sirius was venting a bit of his own frustration in there on Harry's part as he more than likely agreed with Harry's plight. Still, Lily tried to keep up a peaceable conversation, "I thought you said those were hydrangea bushes, not begonias."

Harry gave her a strange look as he said, "there's more than one flower in those gardens."

How could Dumbledore have done this to him? How had his friends forgotten about him here? How much longer was Sirius going to tell him to sit around like a good boy? How much longer until he lost the fight with himself and sent a letter to the stupid newspaper telling them Voldemort was back?

"Well that last one at least is doable just to vent," Remus forced a smile that stuck out more than ever with Harry's seemingly never ending supply of frustrated demands. "Even though it'll most likely be chucked in the fireplace, at least you got all that out somehow."

No one responded, Sirius in particular was still pouting down at the pages that his godson was so clearly frustrated with him and yet Sirius thought Harry was in the right this time. What on earth was Sirius doing leaving Harry at that place? It had been made more than clear he hadn't the faintest idea what went on there, but even if he thought Harry was having the time of his life with those Muggles he would have thought he'd be insisting to Dumbledore to at least let Harry come around to Remus' place by now so that Sirius could visit. Or even the Burrow, since Molly and all the Weasley's most likely knew him now. It really was annoying Sirius as much as Harry the longer he thought about this of why Harry was still there.

These thoughts all continued swirling together in his mind leaving him vacant to the rest of the world as dusk fell around him.

James fidgeted hard, his hands tightening around Lily's waist again in fear that was clearly gripping her as well if her small shivers meant anything. Time was clearly passing Harry by and still no attack had come. What in Merlin's beard had that cracking noise been already? It was going to drive them crazy sitting on the edge of their seats not knowing.

The thing to draw him out of his own thoughts was the sound of many approaching, and Harry looked around curiously to spot a gang all heading home, laughing loudly. At the lead was his cousin, Dudley, as massive as ever, but a year's hard dieting and the discovery of a new talent had wrought a change in his physique.

Remus blinked quizzically, cocked his head to one side, then the other, before declaring, "nope, can't picture it. Here I was thinking he'd break that diet and his pants in his next mention."

Harry smirked a bit, but gave no articulate response. He had no clue what had wrought the change in Dudley to physically better himself, but Harry knew he hadn't considered it much more than what damage it could now do to others which was surely fixing to be explained.

As Uncle Vernon delightedly told anyone who would listen,

"The mailbox then," James snorted in disgust.

Dudley had recently become the Junior Heavyweight Inter-school Boxing Champion of the Southeast.

"I think Harry should actually be terrified for his life," Sirius blinked spastically at the idea. "Teaching that little hippo to punch with accuracy and more power!"

"I still can't wrap my head around him in any training regime," Remus had an odd expression on his face like he wanted to laugh at the idea," but I suppose the best advice always has been play to your strengths."

James shook his head at both of his friends while still vividly imagining all the spells he'd still love to use on Dudley. It didn't matter he was Harry's age, he couldn't picture anyone raising a fist to his son anymore without seeing red and Dudley was still second on the list.

Harry may no longer have been afraid of Dudley,

"Is it because you can set him on fire with a word?" Sirius asked innocently, "because I heard that can instill some real confidence."

Harry gave an easy laugh as he fell into joshing about Dudley, avoiding mentioning that after surviving Lord Voldemort Dudley was more laughable than a hedge.

but he still didn't think that Dudley learning to punch harder and more accurately was cause for celebration.

"I'm starting to wish you had to take psych evaluations before learning to play in sports like that," Lily muttered bitterly, thinking that even if Harry wasn't his victim anymore, most likely Dudley was still bullying others out there with this new found gift.

Neighborhood children all around were terrified of him -

James scoffed in disgust as he pictured it, and how any complaints would go nowhere and the best thing to do would be to call the Muggle police on that boy if there was any luck. Preferably while Harry was not in the vicinity.

even more than they were of that odd Potter kid whom everyone knew attended a center for criminals.

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes as he remembered that stupid lie, but for some odd reason he had a bad feeling about his real school year to come and how it may be worth going to that center to avoid another attendance at Hogwarts this time.

Harry watched them passing by without taking notice of him, and Harry had to fight back the urge to hail them back.

"That would, certainly be, interesting?" Remus said brokenly, unsure if he was supposed to be laughing as the last time Dudley had bothered Harry he'd run off screaming to his mum about Harry setting a plant on fire, and now he'd be doing this in front of his friends. On the other hand, was testing Dudley really the best idea, as surely he would tell his parents and Harry was already in enough trouble.

Harry had an unfamiliar look on his face, but it was only because of the flashing green eyes that set the look off. Otherwise he was practically the spitting image of James, ready to antagonize someone because they'd ticked him off, to vent some of his frustrations when Lily'd just turned him down again. It was an uncharacteristic look for Harry and really showed just how frustrating his being there really was to him for Harry to be trying to vent in this particular way.

If Dudley's friends saw him here alone, they would without a doubt try to come over and start something with him, leaving Dudley in a hard place. He wouldn't want to lose face in front of them, but he'd be terrified of provoking Harry.

Remus rolled his eyes as he at once noticed Sirius adopting the same look as Harry, ready to rile Harry up in this clear display of fun to him, giving no regards to the consequences of what could happen if this played out. Honestly Dudley did deserve the outcome, but Remus still didn't want Harry to take any of the fall which was most likely to happen at the end of any scenario.

Harry would find it the most fun he'd had in ages to watch Dudley's dilemma, taunting him and watching him be powerless, while if any of his friends did try something Harry could draw his wand on them in a second.

Lily huffed and gave Harry the stank eye for that, he knew quite well that he wasn't going to go cursing any of those boys and none of those Muggles would do any more than laugh at such a real threat to them. She understood he was angry but she could think of five other healthier ways than provoking Dudley and she was not happy to be hearing him entertaining this, but she still couldn't bring herself to scold him for it either. Dudley had done quite a lot of damage to Harry and he deserved just a tiny bit of payback, she just wished he'd think about the consequences more than Dudley squirming.

He'd honestly love the opportunity, to torment the boys who'd made his youth hell.

James couldn't help it though, he laughed just a bit under his breath as he was on Harry's side, his sons wit would be worth whatever fight broke out between those boys.

They didn't see him though, and Harry didn't really draw their attention. He had to fight hard against the impulse, as picking a fight would only get him a risk of expulsion.

Harry clucked his tongue in annoyance at what he considered a wasted opportunity, but then why did he have a sudden surge of confidence he did use magic this night...and it involved Dudley.

They began fading back into the night, and Harry watched them go with disappointment as he thought towards Sirius that he'd done as asked, the exact opposite of what his godfather would have done.

All five of them finally gave a free laugh again, not a breath wasted on saying otherwise.

He did rise to his feet once they were out of sight, and began trailing the noise out of sight. Vernon and Petunia thought the best time for Harry to be home was when Dudley was. Vernon had already threatened to lock Harry in the shed if he was late again.

"The worst part is, I now know you're not kidding," James hissed, a fire rekindling in his eyes at that threat.

Harry fidgeted, but remembering his promise, decided against playing it off this time and weakly offered, "Well, it's better then the cupboard right? Probably because I wouldn't fit in there anymore."

"I think I liked it better when you weren't trying to be funny about this," Lily muttered in disgust.

Harry rewound his path back towards Private Drive, passing the now quiet and dark houses that only had little patches of beams to light his way. He liked Little Whinging best like this, when all the neighbors couldn't glance out the window and start muttering about the 'delinquent.'

Lily still couldn't help but clench her teeth in disgust of all of these people swallowing all of the Dursley's lies so easily. Lily could never imagine seeing such a scrawny little kid like Harry next to pampered Dudley and not questioning it, now he'd practically grown up and never had one single person said a word about such a thing?

Harry came to a stop in the shadows when Dudley's gang was departing from him, all saying their farewells to their friend calling him Big D. Harry waited until they were all out of sight and Dudley was on his own before sprinting after his cousin and calling him in the same name.

"You're just begging for that fight tonight," Remus said with resignation.

"Least he was alone now, and not stupid enough to pull anything," Harry half heartedly defended while stopping the trembling of his hand going for his wand now. Every moment that passed left him more sure than ever something was fixing to happen...to him or Dudley. Maybe they really were going to be attacked tonight.

Dudley turned, but turned back away at once when he recognized who it was.

Harry caught up to him anyways and asked how long he'd been going by Big D?

Dudley just told him to shut it.

"And I was just dying to know the answer to that," Sirius muttered belligerently as he flipped the page viciously, his mind's eye now vividly picturing what Harry was heading back towards, and if that cretin put his hands back near Harry again Sirius was going to have a much harder time stopping Prongs a second time.

Harry ignored this and told that he may find it a cool nickname, but Dudley would always be Ickle Diddykins to Harry.

Lily snorted volatility in surprised laughter which quickly dissolved into giggling while the other boys quickly gave a nice laugh for Harry using up Petunia's pet name like that. They were honestly starting to wonder though if they were being paranoid, if that crack really had been nothing. Harry had been alone for hours, far enough away from that house he really would have been vulnerable if anything was going to happen. They were at least trying to force themselves to relax, Harry wasn't in immediate danger, from the outside world anyways.

Dudley repeated shut it, louder.

Harry reminded he never told his mum to shut it, and then further asked if he could at least use Popkin or Dinky Diddydums?

Sirius never would have believed he could read with such blissful happiness once again, but being able to read this after all the horrid feelings he'd already been feeling on top of yesterday's times made this mild taunting feel euphoric.

Dudley said nothing. The effort of keeping himself from hitting Harry seemed to demand all his self-control.

"I never would have bet he'd have so much self control," James smirked, still picturing that fat little blob sneaking sweets from the fridge when he'd been on his diet.

Harry switched though to a less amusing topic, asking who his victim had been tonight? Had he gone after Mark Evans again?

"Evans eh?" Sirius looked up and around curiously.

Lily just shrugged though, saying, "don't ask me, I told you my maiden name's actually a common one. My dad never mentioned any more family to me though, so I wouldn't think there's an actual relation." Her face went an ugly puce color as she remembered that Harry was only there because Petunia was supposedly all the family Harry had left. If she did have some distant relative out there who was of her blood other than Petunia, she still suspected Harry would have been better off with some stranger she'd never met.

Dudley snarled back that kid had been asking for it, he'd cheeked him.

"Clearly not hard to do," Sirius snorted.

Harry asked if he'd been told he looked like a pig in a wig? Because that wasn't cheek if it was true.

Harry felt a small smile as those around him laughed at his humor, they were clearly trying to force themselves to calm down finally after that disastrous blowout Vernon had caused, which made Harry feel all the more uneasy that the true danger was only just getting started.

Harry was watching with high entertainment at the frustration he was clearly causing Dudley, like he was siphoning off his own and passing it along.

Lily ran her hand through her hair with a sigh, accidentally flicking some into James' mouth, still wishing Harry wouldn't do such a thing but at least semi grateful he was doing something about it. It would be even worse to have no release she supposed, she just wished he wasn't suddenly even unintentionally mimicking his father in his school years like all the boys around her were clearly laughing about.

They turned right down the narrow alleyway where Harry had first seen Sirius,

Sirius couldn't stop a little shiver creeping into his tone for realizing that, though he would have thought that was a good thing, such a random mention of that alley way managed to try and spring all his worrying fears of his time in Azkaban. What a stupid thing to be dwelling on now when those creatures were as far away as could be from his pup.

when Dudley suddenly stopped in the dark where the streetlights couldn't reach them on either side, demanding of Harry he thought he was a real big man carrying that thing?

"Can't even bring himself to say wand," Remus rolled his eyes in disbelief at this walking dung bomb.

Harry grinned again as he told Dudley he wasn't as stupid as he looked, but then if he was he couldn't walk and talk at the same time.

"No need for digging into blond jokes there Harry," Sirius critiqued. "I know you're better than that."

Harry pulled out his wand.

"Was just proving a point," Harry quickly said in defense, throwing his hands up in surrender at once of his mum giving him such a look of exasperation.

Dudley looked sideways at it, reminding Harry at once he wasn't allowed or that freak school of his would expel him.

"And wouldn't that just make every one of your coming holidays," James snapped, honestly finding it a miracle the Dursleys never tried to provoke Harry, to find some way to get him expelled from a place they hated so much.

Harry said back slyly that for all Dudley knew, they'd changed the rules.

Dudley said they hadn't at once, but his tone wasn't so sure.

"For all he knows the crazy school of magic burns it's rule book every few months," Remus snickered.

Harry just laughed, and Dudley snarled back Harry was just too scared to take him on without that thing.

"Well can you blame him," Lily grumbled, "he's twice the size of you."

Harry just shrugged though, he hadn't feared Dudley in a long time by that point, and while he still didn't consider himself much of a physical fighter, he was honestly rather confident by this point he could probably take Dudley on if he stayed out of his range enough and made at least one good blow of his own. He'd just never bothered as it still wouldn't win him anything where he was staying that night.

Harry said back with derision that all Dudley needed to beat up kids was four mates behind him. Asking about that boxing title he was so proud of and how old his opponent had been, single digits?

Even James was well aware they put opponents up in better racquets than that, but it still wasn't a nice thought Dudley could be out doing this to such young kids in his own neighborhood which they all honestly believed.

Dudley snarled back he was their age, twice the size of Harry, and out cold for twenty minutes after Dudley was finished with him.

"Was I supposed to be impressed?" Remus mock yawned.

"Weight isn't everything," Sirius sniffed. "I'm sure Harry's still faster than him and Dudley."

Then going on to say he was going to go straight home and tell his dad that Harry had that thing out-

"Running off a tattletale now," James sneered, still fighting back his own impulse to curse Dudley stupid.

Harry cut him off for being so afraid, but Dudley sneered back that Harry wasn't usually this brave at night.

Harry felt himself shiver just a bit, he had a bad feeling where Dudley was trying to go with that crack.

At first confused, Harry returned that it was night now, that's what people call it when it's all dark.

This time no one could wrangle up much humor for that jab, they all remembered what they'd heard from Harry last night and what Dudley may have been hearing for over a month now. However, if he was really fixing to mock Harry for his nightmares, that kid was in for a serious problem from the lot of them, more than he already was.

Dudley snapped back when Harry was in bed.

Harry still didn't get it, asking what he was supposed to be afraid of, pillows?

Sirius managed a laugh, but he was the only one who did.

Dudley said back triumphantly he'd heard Harry all last night whining in his sleep.

Harry mumbled something as he shifted around uncomfortably, not meeting anyone's eyes. He tried to swallow, to say what he wasn't sure, because he only managed to cough and just gave up, waving Sirius on to get it over with.

He didn't want to, this wasn't going to go well.

Harry tried to deny it, but he could already feel it was pointless even as Dudley mockingly quoted Harry about 'not Cedric!'

"How would he, why-" Lily began sputtering in outrage. As cruel a child as she'd always seen Dudley, she never imagined he'd stoop to taunting Harry about this. He was having nightmares about it for crying out loud, surely some shred of humanity must live in Dudley for him to realize this was the very last thing you should ever taunt someone about! Harry's little jabs had been of no comparison to the cruelty of this! Yet she couldn't string all of that together, and Sirius wasn't going to wait for her to as he spewed it all out.

Harry tried to snap that Dudley was just lying, but it wasn't possible, he couldn't know Cedric's name any other way.

Dudley paid Harry no mind, already moving on to whining for help from Harry's parents and how pathetic Harry had sounded.

That one hurt the worst, and the foulest part was Dudley had no idea what he was really mocking. Harry hadn't once mentioned a thing about his parents to Dudley of all people, but the ghostly images of his parents that night haunted him nearly as much as Cedric.

Dudley's cruel laughter was cut short as Harry finally lost his temper, and drew his wand, right for Dudley's heart.

Sirius finally felt some of the heat rushing his face receding in relief. He couldn't stop what he was forcing himself to spit out, mocking Harry like that even if every part of him knew it was technically another person doing it. He'd rather pull off all of his extremities than really hear someone saying things like that to his pup, and was more than pleased to finally find the part where Harry really pushed back.

Dudley backed into the wall in fear as Harry felt the past fourteen years of hatred pounding through him. What would he give to strike Dudley now, have him crawling home from the worst of jinxes, like sprouting feelers.

James hummed in pleasure at the idea of leaving Dudley transfigured for at least a few days, might teach him a lesson or two.

The two began shouting loudly at each other, Harry demanding that Dudley never speak of this again, while Dudley told Harry to put that thing away!

Remus honesty wondered how long this circular argument could last. Harry had the most anger and power on his side, but he wasn't going to put it past Dudley to strike out in fear here soon and Harry may accidentally curse him just on instinct and get himself into some real trouble with the Ministry again.

It ended when both boys shuddered as if icy water had been dumped on them.

"Did you finally do something?" Sirius demanded eagerly, but when he glanced up and Harry said nothing, instead he noticed his pup growing sickly pale, Sirius thought the answer was yes and he was just realizing how much problems he'd just caused himself. He didn't wait around for Lily or anyone else to berate him for what he'd done, Dudley had deserved it.

Harry suddenly blinked in confusion as he glanced around, but it was too dark to see anything, there was no light. The stars, moon, and streetlamps had vanished.

Then the book was suddenly in fear of falling from his too slick hands, icy chills covering him while sweat broke across his palms. He'd recognize that description anywhere, he kept imagining it happening to him in the coming months of his world going black with that cold. The oddity of it didn't sink in though until beside him Remus spluttered in disgust, "what the devil are those things doing there!"

Nobody answered him, no one had even the faintest idea. All Lily and James could think to do was praise Merlin and all their luck in the world Remus had taught Harry to do that Patronus spell so many years in advance, because whatever anomaly had caused dementors to appear in Little Winging right near Harry, it had saved their son's life.

Harry came to his senses first, a flare of protection raising his head as he saw Sirius' plight and tried to reach around and take the book from him, but that snapped Sirius out of it and he clearly wasn't having it. He held it protectively to his chest and gave Harry as superior a look as he could manage underneath that pale skin, "unless you actually died in this chapter from something as stupid as dementors when I know full well you can handle them, you're keeping your paws off this until it's your turn."

Harry rolled his eyes, deciding to leave Sirius be if he really wanted to unnecessarily prove something to them by reading about those things.

There was no noise, no nothing but a biting cold seeping into their every skin.

For a split second Harry thought he'd done something by accident,

Despite her absolute confidence Prongs was going to make an appearance any moment and keep her son safe, it still didn't stop Lily nibbling at her lip in fear of how long Harry was going to have to suffer hearing her scream again before that time came.

then reasoning caught up with him as his brain reminded no wizard was powerful enough to turn off stars.

Remus couldn't help a particularly hard involuntary shiver for that idea, what he wouldn't give some nights to blot out the moon, but it had never really occurred to him that a price that could be paid for that wish was a soul.

Harry began wildly looking around to find them, but Dudley broke his concentration by demanding to know what Harry was doing to him.

James honestly wished it was Harry doing this to Dudley, at least his son doing some sort of magic on Dudley would have been more laughable and entertaining than watching Sirius stutter this out in fear. He really had no clue why Padfoot was insisting he wanted to read about those creatures that more than likely were the star of his own nightmares now.

Harry tried to get him to shut up as he strained his ears, thinking desperately that they couldn't be here, all the while his brain was warning him he'd see them before they arrived.

The problem was they all knew full well Dudley wasn't going to do a thing Harry told him to, Dudley still thought it was Harry doing this, so they all stayed clenched in fear as something new occurred to them. They hated Dudley for everything he'd ever done to Harry, but they'd never wanted his soul sucked out! Harry could certainly fend them off himself, but would he be able to keep Dudley protected as well? He'd kept a hundred at bay before, surely he wasn't about to witness something so inhuman happening to another person now.

Dudley was not listening to a word as Harry was still telling him to shut up, but then they both fell silent as they heard it. The deep, rattling breath trying to take in more than air.

Sirius was doing an unintentionally good impression of that noise in between drawing breaths to keep going. They really worried he was going to run himself out of oxygen in his strive to force himself to keep reading about the demons he kept fearing were going to ruin his life.

Dudley swore one last time if Harry didn't stop it, he'd hit him!

Harry tried one last time to tell Dudley to shut-WHAM.

Sirius hadn't meant to shout that so loud he made everyone around him jump, but he honestly hadn't been expecting that word either. What on earth hit Harry at a time like this? Surely even Dudley wasn't that stupid!

Something violently collided with the side of Harry's head, and little lights popped across his vision as he hit the ground, his wand skittering away.

James felt a snarl of outrage ripping up his throat, of all the times he'd wanted to inflict physical violence on someone rather than cursing them, this now made number one. Of all the times for that idiotic Muggle to be doing this to his son!

Harry called after Dudley what a moron he was,

"My honest sentiments, really you should have told him much sooner," Remus hissed under his breath as he kept white knuckling his wand.

all while scrambling around on his knees to find his fallen defense.

Dudley was paying none of this a mind as he tried to blunder away, but Harry shouted after him he was heading right for it!

Sirius never would have believed he'd feel so much fear galloping inside of him for Dudley Dursley, but there was no way he could deny it was there now. Sirius had never before wished this fate on anyone, even that wretched Muggle, but the absurd imagery of this happening to a Muggle was at least helping to block out his mind's eye offering up the same image happening to him.

Dudley did not respond, instead his footsteps faltered and Harry felt the chill somehow manage to increase. There was more than one.

Lily could feel the scream building up in her throat, still unable to shake from her mind of Harry passing out around these creatures. He'd grown stronger since then, but even staring at her full grown son she still couldn't erase the fear of what those things once did to him.

Harry howled after his cousin to keep his mouth shut at all costs! Then he kept shuffling frantically across the ground, his fingers grasping at nothing but dirt in frustration before shouting on instinct the spell to light it, lumos.

Five inches from his right hand, his wand tip ignited.

Sirius might have felt bad at breaking off there with such a horrible timing, but his gaping mouth wouldn't shut and he was having problems finding his brain to keep going. It had gone from overdrive to off like a switch.

"That was wandless magic!" Remus collected himself first. "Merlin Harry, even the most advanced wizards struggle to do that under extreme pressure!"

Harry cocked his head to the side as he stared at him, something tickling in the back of his mind as he asked, "can't wands do magic without us though? Act on their own to aid."

"I've never heard of that," James came back to himself enough to say, "but I suppose none of us are wand experts either. You'd be better asking Ollivander such a thing."

Lily just shook her head in exasperation at her boy playing off such a moment and trying to divert it back to his wand like that. He really had no clue the potential he'd just enacted in himself.

None of them were quite over their panic, but that had been a healthy kick to make them realize that Harry was going to be fine! He'd take care of Dudley, though the miscreant only just barely deserved it. Surely Harry would be far more concerned for his cousins well being if something had happened to him, rather than still looking curiously into space puzzling his own question.

Harry did not stop to think, grasping it and taking to his feet in one fluid motion to face the dementor.

Sirius honestly wished he could go back and keep talking about all the insane things Harry could start training to do with this newly discovered skill of his, or even have a bloody chat about cabbages if it would get him to stop thinking about these things for even a second now. The only reason he was forcing himself to keep going instead of the cowardly impulses trying to convince him to give these pages up was that Harry was fine. His own plight was going to be worked through, because Harry would get through this.

He shouted the spell to be rid of the creature, but all that came out was a silvery wisp. The spell hadn't worked right, and it was getting harder every second to concentrate.

James felt as if those own slimy fingers were gripping tightly against his own heart. He couldn't shake the image that Prongs was failing Harry now, of all times! It may have been Harry's magic and panic that was causing him to stumble over this, but he was Harry's guardian, that couldn't be a coincidence!

The laughter began in his head, shrill, high-pitched . . .

Lily had to resist the urge to press her hands over her ears like a child so as not to hear this next part. Her pleading screams mixed with that high cold laughter, James trying to save them with some time that would all fail...

The rancid smell of the dementors breath was filling his brain, slowing any train of thought, he could not think of a single happy thing. The laughter changed to the icy voice of Voldemort as the dementor grasped his neck, the echoed words from his nightmare repeating again for Harry to bow to death.

Then Lily's trembling fingers truly did fly up, to cover her mouth to smother a gasp of fear. Her mind simply wouldn't process past the muddle of shock that she was no longer her son's worst memory, her screams would never haunt him again, and yet was this truly better? There was no such thing as a good worse memory, but somehow, in some twisted way, at least in that one she hadn't just died to save her son only for it all to have gone to waste in Voldemort's return. No, at least the vision Harry would have now was his parents truly being able to rescue their child. It would hold no real comfort to anyone, not even herself, though she had not a clue if the boys were even processing all of this in the same way she was, they were all looking ready to jump to their feat in moments and Sirius was going to keel over from forcing himself to read about this dementor experience replaying such a thing!

Harry was sure his last thought would be he'd never get to see Ron and Hermione again, and like a shot of fresh air their faces flashed across his eyes and he finally shouted Expecto Patronum.

It finally worked properly, as the silver stag ran free.

Sirius actually sagged back into the cushions with relief as finally Harry found his friends faces. He'd be safe now, he'd found his will, now all that was left to worry about was Dudley, still an odd enough concept he kept back those poisonous thoughts trying to cloud his own mind.

It's antlers caught the Dementor in the place where the heart should have been;

Remus found a laugh somewhere in him that still came out too strained, but he'd never deny he loved that mental imagery.

and before he had a moment to breathe he ran off in search of Dudley, who was curled upon the ground, his arms clamped tight as could go around his face.

Harry blinked in surprise as he wondered if that was instinct, or Dudley had actually been trying to listen to him. He had no clue, wasn't going to ask, and had no doubts he never did ask Dudley about this experience.

The second dementor was over him, prying his arms apart easily, almost lovingly.

Lily felt her nails digging into James' arms still wrapped tight around her waist, that warmth needed now more than ever as she forced away the image of that being Harry again! How many times had a dementor nearly taken his soul? What would he be if not for Remus? She was more grateful than ever when Sirius found his breath back and forced himself to keep going.

The stag had not yet vanished, instead Harry urged his magical guardian to rid this one as well. Once the creature had vanished as well, the lights began to reaper, and the silvery form flickered, then too went out.

The relief flooding the room was nearly visible, none of them had felt any such thing in what felt like years though honestly they'd just started this book. The trauma of what Vernon had physically done to Harry stacked on top of another near death experience all combined into one thing really was too much to process all at once!

Little Whinging came back to life around him as if the dementors had never been here. Harry's reality was slamming back into him just as quickly, his sweat soaked shirt clinging to him, and his mind screaming the question of why they'd been here to begin with.

"I'm still remembering how to breathe properly from you surviving it, haven't quite gotten to the processing of why's yet." James croaked, keeping his head rested on Lily's shoulders and her curled tight into his chest while he kept a steady eye on Harry. No matter how angry he ever was at his son, it would never trump the sheer pleasure of seeing him alive in this room.

Dudley lay curled on the ground, whimpering and shaking. Harry bent down to see whether he was in a fit state to stand up,

Remus honestly wouldn't believe so, dementors affected Muggles much more physically than even wizards as they had absolutely no magical ability to fight them off. It would be an honest miracle if Dudley was even still awake instead of passed out on the pavement.

but then he heard loud, running footsteps behind him.

Sirius felt like his spine was going to snap in half he suddenly tensed so hard, his mind filling with images of the Death Eater who had sent those dementors there for Harry, and now preparing to finish the job! Only the tiny little print could distract him from such horrid visions that just couldn't be worse than that.

Harry turned back on instinct, raising his wand again, before Mrs. Figg came panting into sight.

"Oh!" Lily felt almost dizzy from too many things happening back to back, and that random muggle appearing like that certainly was just another level of odd.

Harry could understand his mother's suddenly faint look, his own mind was already starting to feel bogged down with shock at so many things happening to him in this one night, and it wasn't over.

He at once tried to tuck his wand back away, but Mrs. Figg shouted at him for being an idiot trying to put that away, there could be more! She was going to kill Mundungus Fletcher!

"Did she really say that?" Harry yelped fiercely, tugging the book away from Sirius who was honestly relieved to have the bleeding thing out of his hands by this point. "You guys mentioned him as a member of the Order before, as well as Mrs. Figg. There's no way that's a coincidence, which means they must be the same people you know as I do. So this means the Order-"

"Don't change the subject Harry." James told him with a far sterner voice than Harry had yet heard. He honestly felt like taking another step back, never having felt so much like a scolded child. "You promised, now is the chapter over?" James couldn't care one lick what the Order was doing in that moment, or anything else in the world for that matter.

He sighed as he closed the book for answer. He still thought them being honestly ridiculous about all this, he found discussing this groups members and what this could potentially mean for plans against Voldemort far more important, but he also recognized there was just no point in delaying this anymore. A promise was a promise.

"Yes, alright, so sometimes they did things like this, but it never, you know-"

James couldn't help but cut off, his temper still getting the better of him. "No, we don't know, and it's high bloody time you told us!" The only thing stopping him from going and throttling Vernon this second, even if his hands wouldn't fit he'd find a way, was the stupid bloody magic keeping them locked in this house!

Instead of feeling outraged, or even making a move to stop them, Harry just sighed miserably. He'd known this day would come, the book wouldn't just keep glossing over everything, but he really didn't want to get into this! It was over and done with, they really couldn't do anything to him now, and what they had done had never been anything awful enough that he had ever considered telling someone, let alone running away. Even what Marge had done back when he was thirteen had hurt him so much deeper than any physical blow Vernon or Petunia could duel out.

Still, glancing around at all of their haggard faces, he decided it was high time they knew anyways. What's done is done, now and then, so him telling his family wasn't going to make anything any better, honestly it was probably going to make it worse, but he told them anyways because he felt like they deserved to know. Sirius and Remus had told him things about their past, honestly it only seemed fair to divulge something so minor to him.

"Okay, yeah, sometimes they did stuff like this. I meant it though, they never left a real bruise! Sometimes he'd cuff me upside the head when I said something he didn't like, Dudley pushed me around a lot, she swung at me with what ever was in her hand because I'd asked to do something she didn't like, just little stuff like that."

Lily had to very carefully bite her tongue for fear of mimicking James and cutting Harry off when he was finally speaking about this, but she still in no way considered any of that little stuff.

"When I got older, they all pushed me around, reaching out and grabbing me, usually by the arm, and dragging me along if I was caught doing something they didn't like, then they'd shove me in the cupboard and yell at me. I think that's what he was doing now, just reaching out and grabbing hold of me, trying to get me to stop doing something he was afraid of. When I was really little and did some accidental magic, it scared Vernon so much sometimes he'd choke me until I went limp and fell down, but it never left a bruise because he never hung on that long. Just enough that I didn't fight him when he threw me in the cupboard. That's another thing, when I got older I realized they were afraid of me." He paused for just a moment with his head cocked to the side, though this revelation was no longer new to him it still seemed to stun him just saying it aloud.

"They wouldn't ever really do anything too bad to me, because they were afraid of my magic, even when I didn't know I had it. So they never would have done anything to bad to me, because they probably thought I could magically retaliate. Besides, even if they had done something worse, I knew it would be pointless to complain about it, because they were always spreading around the rumor that I was an odd and troubled kid that they kept 'out of the kindness of their hearts.' So if the neighbors saw or wondered anything, they put it down to just 'those poor Dursleys having to deal with a criminal in there house.'"

He seemed to find that conclusive enough he'd be happy to move on, but none of them really felt yet like this was just a matter to move on from. Those Dursleys had abused Harry, physically and mentally, and it was their reasoning and lies that had stopped him from telling anyone or anything being done about it.

Voldemort was a ruthless mass murderer who had made it his mission in life to eradicate a large portion of the population, and they were fighting him because what he was doing was wrong. Then he'd turned his sights on the Potters, and he was not going to get away with that, and still this was different. It wasn't possible to hate two singular people like the four of them did, but Vernon and Petunia were going to pay for what they'd done to Harry.

"I'm guessing you never mentioned a word of this to me?" Sirius muttered morosely, unable to kick out the twisting of hatred for himself he was feeling that Harry didn't know him that well. If only he hadn't been so rash in going after that rat that night, if he'd just stuck around and been there for Harry none of this would have happened to his pup.

Harry shook his head vigorously at once, looking at him like he'd lost his mind. "I didn't need to know you long to know what a terrible idea that was. You needed to be as far away from me as possible, and you knowing about any of that would have made the opposite happen. You moved into Hogwarts backyard because my scar twinged, what on earth would you have done if I ever mentioned this."

Sirius had to breathe carefully through his nose to not start shouting at Harry about that, it should have been his decision, but still he pressed, "not even Dumbledore though? Come on Harry, McGonagall or someone?"

"Did you?" Harry shot back with a triumphant look, clearly already knowing the answer even before Sirius winced and looked away.

Harry looked around at all of them one more time, putting a pleading note into his voice, "I'm sorry if you felt I was lying by not just saying all that, but I really just didn't think it mattered to know. I hated it there, I love it here, that's what mattered to me, I didn't see the point in making you all angry by mentioning something that was long done."

Any of them could have argued the point with him, it would have been easy to spend hours having an uneasy chat about every little thing those Dursleys had ever done to Harry and then reciprocating with a loving promise it was all going to be okay now, but Harry was a grown man now. They all still couldn't help envisioning this happening to their infant upstairs, but it truly was now his decision how he wanted to handle this. He didn't technically owe them anything.

Harry had kept his promise, and while he took one last hopeful look at his dad and waited for those hazel eyes to brighten when they met, he went back to the book. His dad may even still be mad at him, but at least they were okay now.

HPHPHPHPHP

  *Alright, real talk here folks. I did a lot of thinking over this topic, as it's such a widely debated thing amongst HP fans about what Harry really lived through during his time at the Dursleys. Personally, I think a lot of it gets exaggerated, but I never undermine that they did Harry some real harm. I kept myself to the facts and truths that I knew about, and I may have built this up a bit, but don't take my/ Harry's explanation as one that isn't terrible. What the Dursleys did to Harry was a lot more mental punishment than physical, making sure he felt as unloved as possible, which can do as much damage to you as a beating. Guess I don't really have anything else to say, mostly it turned into a big thing between him and James more so then what the Dursleys actually did, but I hope the build up to this scene was at least kind of worth it.