#i just don't link it because outside links remove your work from tags I thought

[fanfoolishness]

a rain that sounds like home (3/8)

After the destruction of Tantiss, the Bad Batch is safe at last. As Crosshair begins to recover from his injuries, it becomes apparent that not all of his scars are physical, and that guilt and grief are wounds that cut deeper than any blade. His family is determined to be there for him -- if only he can let them in.

Canon-compliant, focusing on PTSD, amputation recovery, and sibling grief, with plenty of whump, hurt/comfort, and emotional catharsis. Set shortly after the return from Tantiss and my fic Breaching the Wall. 43,000 words total.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

Chapter 3: Tradition. The siblings are about to move into their new home when Omega suggests a Pabu tradition. Crosshair struggles with accepting help. ~5800 words, Crosshair & Omega POV. (This incorporates part of a previous ficlet, but adjusted to fit within this story, just in case you think some parts seemed familiar!)

---

The days kept coming.  Omega seemed to be feeling better again, her regular sunny self once more, and she was buzzing with excitement about the new house.  There were only a few more days of work on the electronics and finishing touches, and then it’d be ready.  Good.  None of them liked using the Imperial shuttle as their home, and even though it was bigger than the Marauder, they seemed to get on each other’s nerves more easily in here.  

Crosshair yawned.  He hadn’t slept well the night before, waking up several times and then sleeping long after the sun had risen.  Wrecker, Hunter and Omega were apparently already up, leaving him alone.  It was time to get up and get ready.  He shambled out of his bunk and into the ‘fresher.  

He stared into the military shuttle’s poor excuse for a mirror, frowning at what he saw in the dimly reflective gray metal.  The stubble on his face was slowly trying to turn into a beard, gray shot through with white, coarse hairs slightly curling.  The hair on most of his head was much the same, scruffy and wavy.  After their cadet years he had always kept his hair short, irritated by its curly texture and the maintenance needed to keep it from tangling.  After Bracca he’d gone even further, keeping it nearly fully shaved, and even on Tantiss they’d allowed him to keep it shorn close.

But now --

His left hand curled into a fist.  His stump hung uselessly at his side.

He knew Hunter or Wrecker would grab the clippers or razor they’d picked up from the market and cut his hair for him happily.  All he had to do was say the word.  It shouldn’t be so difficult, and yet…

Crosshair let out a long breath.  To hell with it.  He glanced around, looking for the clippers, but they weren’t in their usual spot.  His eyes landed on the razor instead and he hesitated.  Before he could think better of it, he splashed his face with water and lathered his patchy beard with soap, then picked up the razor with his left hand.

How hard could it be?

He set the razor down five minutes later, dropping it into the sink to let it wash clean.  Bloody water swirled into the drain, and he grimaced, wiping his face.  Multiple streaks of blood came away on the back of his hand.  Close enough.

He turned on the hot water in the shower.  He stripped off his nightclothes one-handed, fumbling with the shirt as usual,  and stepped beneath the water, his face stinging, his eyes burning.

---

”Cross?” 

“Hrm?” he muttered, toothpick wavering between his lips as he sat down on the gangway, where Wrecker was working on what remained of breakfast.  It seemed Hunter and Omega were out with Batcher.

“You, uh, you shaved,” said Wrecker, giving him an odd look over his mug of caf.  

Crosshair shrugged, looking at the bowl of fruit resting beside his brother.  He should probably eat some of it, though he wasn’t particularly hungry.

“Time for a change.”

”But you’re bleeding.”  Wrecker reached over, holding out a napkin, looking concerned.

Crosshair froze.  “Kriff,” he hissed beneath his breath.  He reluctantly accepted the napkin, dabbing it at his face and wincing.  

”You know, if you ever need a hand—” Wrecker began.  

He glared at his brother, suddenly needled.  The breath felt trapped in his lungs.  “Very funny.”

“I wouldn’t joke about that!”  Wrecker sighed, looking abashed and shaking his head.  “I didn’t mean --  You know what I was tryin’ to say.  If there’s somethin’ you need, you can bug me any time.”

Crosshair nodded.  He’d known Wrecker wouldn’t ever purposefully jab at him about something like this, but in the moment, it had surprised him how the casual phrase had stung.  He looked down, balling up the napkin in his fist.  “I… didn’t want to ask.”

”I get it.  Must be hard.”  He held out the bowl of fruit to Crosshair.  “You want some?”

”Sure.”  He tucked the napkin under his right arm, remembering to reach for the fruit with his left hand.  He grabbed a meiloorun, its flesh pleasantly firm in his grip, and sniffed it.  The aroma was sweet.  He took a bite, though chewing took more effort than it should, and the fruit didn’t taste as good as it had smelled.

“So… you gonna grow your hair out like Hunter?” Wrecker asked slyly.

”Don’t.  You.  Dare.”

Wrecker broke into peals of laughter.  “Just picture it!  We could get you a bandanna with a crosshair on it!  Red or black?”  

“Wrecker, I will end you myself,” Crosshair growled, before a grin stole over his face.  He chuckled, shaking his head.  “All right.  If my hair starts looking anything like Hunter’s, I’ll ask you to shave it immediately.”  

“Deal!”

“Well, now that that’s settled,” said Crosshair.  “Any caf around?”

“You work on the fruit, and I’ll get you some caf.”  Wrecker got to his feet to head back inside, then paused.  “You slept awful late today.”

Crosshair’s mouth quirked down at the edges.  “Happens now and then.”  It didn’t used to happen.  He’d always been an early riser after a lifetime of military training.  Now, though… “I can’t sleep in?”

“No, no, you can.  Just doesn’t seem like you, that’s all,” said Wrecker.  He gave Crosshair an appraising look, as if he could see right through him.  

He slept through the night, Crosshair told himself.  I would have noticed if I’d woken him up.  He had an unsettling feeling he might have talked in his sleep, though.  Flashes from the night seared his mind, an electric shock arcing through the calm summer morning --

His hand useless and shaking, losing its grip on the binoculars in the jungle -- the vibrosword’s blade lifting back up, his own screams in his ears, what did they do to him -- being dragged away in a trail of blood, staring helplessly at a small bundle limp and sodden in a lake of red, five half-curled fingers --

He shivered, then busied himself eating his fruit, turning away from Wrecker and gazing out on the colonnade with an effort.  He barely noticed how it tasted, distracting himself with watching the marketplace.  His eyes scanned the crowd carefully until half a klick away he spotted Hunter, Omega and Batcher, their silhouettes instantly recognizable.  They looked to be doing the day’s shopping in the market.  He tried to focus on small safe details, sunlight glinting off Omega’s hair, Batcher frisking around Hunter’s heels.  

A lake of red --

He huffed a deep breath.  No.  Don’t think about it.  

“Cross?”

Crosshair shook his head, giving Wrecker a faint smile.  “I must really need that caf.”

”All right, then.”  Wrecker headed back inside to the tiny galley.

Crosshair watched him go, then finished his fruit mechanically.  He reached up to wipe his face, wincing when the acidic fruit juice stung half a dozen tiny cuts from his shave job.  He’d have to figure something else out, or go for a beard after all.  

He gazed out sullenly at the marketplace, his mind empty, feeling cold despite the sunny day.

---

Omega steadied her breath, trying to keep her hope tempered.  Moving day could be as early as tomorrow.

Of course, the idea of “moving day” itself was silly.  Between the four of them and Batcher, their possessions were meager -- what remained of her brothers’ armor (no backpacks, no helmets, Wrecker’s chestplate nearly unusable), the two blasters they’d managed to make it off Tantiss with, the few sets of clothing they’d cobbled together with the help of the villagers, and a few other odds and ends.  Wrecker could easily carry it in a single load; even Omega could bring it all down from the ship with a cart.

But as they’d worked with the village to build their little house, Lyana had told her that moving days on Pabu were special.  They weren’t common, most people tending to live in the same home for their life on the island, but sometimes when a family grew or changed there would be a move, and there had been many moves after the sea surge.  It was a time for letting go and saying goodbye to the old, but also joyfully welcoming in the new.  

That sounded like something they all needed, but now she had to figure out how to get her brothers on board.  She found her opening at dinner.

It was Crosshair’s turn for dinner plans.  At first they’d told Crosshair he didn’t need to worry about the dinner rotation, he was still healing and getting used to doing things one-handed, but he’d just glowered as fiercely as ever, the angle of his toothpick sharp and aggressive.  “I’ve got it,” he’d said, eyes narrowing, and they’d backed off.  If he had it, he had it. 

Omega waited for dinner while playing with Batcher and Wrecker, Hunter sitting beneath the great weeping maya and watching them.  Wrecker and Hunter still weren’t fully back to their regular selves either.  Wrecker got tired more quickly, more easily out of breath than he used to, and Hunter was stiff in the back, with a slight limp.  Like Crosshair, they were both slowly improving; but also like Crosshair, they tried to pretend that they’d come back from Tantiss with nothing more than a few scratches.  She hated seeing them do it, but she understood, too.

After all, she hadn’t told any of them about the nightmares she kept having about the bridge.  

She shook her head.  They were here on Pabu.  They were safe.  She repeated it to herself.  We’re safe, we’re safe, we’re safe.

Batcher snuffled, running up to her and nearly knocking her over.  Omega laughed as her reverie broke, giving the hound a good scratch on the chin.  “Wrecker, do you have her ball?” she asked.

“Oi!  Batcher, over here!” Wrecker called, winding up and chucking the ball a good thirty feet past Omega.  Batcher shot off, her claws scrabbling on the stone as she galloped for the ball.  Omega turned back to Wrecker with a grin, but her smile faded when she saw him rubbing his chest, wincing.

“Maybe we’d better take a break, Wrecker,” she said.  “Besides, Crosshair’s probably ready with dinner soon.”  She wandered to where Hunter was sitting and took a seat beside him, and Wrecker followed a moment after.

“I hope it’s something good,” Wrecker said.  “I’m starving!”

Hunter chuckled, patting Wrecker on the shoulder.  “You’re always starving.  Don’t worry, everything here’s good.  Hard to go wrong with our basic plan of ‘trade for something from the market, put it together with something else from the market, eat.’”

“But the house should be ready tomorrow, right?” Omega asked.  “We’ll have a real kitchen.  We could learn how to really cook something!”

Hunter gave her a small smile.  “You want to learn to cook?  We can figure it out together.  Maybe there’s someone in the village we can ask to give us some pointers.  Your guess on how to cook anything is as good as mine.  Which is to say, terrible.”

She giggled.  A loud whistle came from the direction of the shuttle, and she looked up to see Batcher tearing off to meet Crosshair out front of the shuttle.  He leaned down to pat her with both arms, but Omega saw him glance to his right as he did so.  

“The forgetting must be so hard,” she said quietly to Hunter as they walked back to the shuttle.  “With his hand.”

“I know,” said Hunter.  “I see it too.”  His face darkened with a hint of sadness. “It took Echo a good while before that got better.”

Omega reached out, taking Hunter’s hand for a moment and squeezing it.  “I wonder when Echo will come back.  I think it’d be good for Crosshair if he was here.”

“I do too, but we talked it over before Echo left.  Crosshair insisted that if Echo was up to it, he should get back to the fight.  Especially with his work helping the other clones from Tantiss,” said Hunter.  “He didn’t want Echo to put that off for him.”

She sighed.  “That sounds like him.”

They reached the shuttle and followed Crosshair and Batcher inside.  Something smelled good, though the tiny galley was a mess, with tins piled on top of each other and splotches of sauce all over the slim counter.  Crosshair was normally exceptionally neat -- nothing like the chaos of Wrecker or Tech -- but Omega figured it’d be hard to keep things clean as he went in such a small space, with only his left hand.  

Besides, the mess mattered little.  The narrow collapsible table was pulled out with a tray of seaweed wraps, cooked fish, a large dish of rice, and an assortment of thin-cut vegetables of varying sizes.  There were so many tasty things there wasn’t room for their plates on the table, but eating with a plate on their knees had never stopped them before.  Omega grinned.  “Crosshair, this looks delicious!”  

He shrugged.  “Not like I did most of it.  I just asked around at the market for what went well together.  All I did was the rice and the vegetables.  I think it’ll be edible.”

“Looks great to me!” Wrecker said.  He doled out portions for each of them, then they sat down on the flight seats lining the walls, balancing their plates in their laps.  Omega rolled up rice, fish and vegetables with the seaweed and stuffed the whole thing into her mouth, grinning and flashing Crosshair a thumbs up.  He smiled slightly back at her.

“Well, the house is… done, I think,” said Hunter.  “We can pack up everything and sleep there tonight.”  He shook his head, taking a bite of a roll.  “Hard to believe we’ll have a house.  Us.”  

Omega looked up at him with wide eyes.  He looked so wistful, still half in disbelief even though they’d all been down in Lower Pabu working on the house all week.  “Actually, Hunter, I had an idea.”  She beamed at her brothers.

“Shoot,” said Crosshair.  He balanced his plate on his knees, keeping it pinned in place with his right wrist, and worked at trying to roll up food with his left hand.  Rice spilled out of the end of his wrap as he took a bite.

“What if we do moving day tomorrow?”

“Moving day?  It’ll take about an hour to walk back down there tonight with everything, and then we’ll be done,” Wrecker said with a hint of confusion.  “Why do you wanna wait?”

“Lyana told me about how people here make a big deal out of moving day.  It’s a tradition.  You say goodbye to your old home first, and thank it for what it did for you.  Then, you make a fresh start in the morning in your new home.  It’s a way to celebrate new beginnings!  And… that’s what I want.  A new beginning, with my brothers.”  She smiled, looking around at each of them hopefully.

Hunter looked touched, a soft smile on his face.  Wrecker wiped at his eyes, clearing his throat.  Crosshair nodded thoughtfully, setting down his half-eaten roll.  

“That sounds real nice, Omega,” Hunter said.  “All right, we’ll do things your way.”  He chuckled.  “Though this shuttle isn’t much to say goodbye to.  It’s… serviceable, and it got us where we needed to go.  But that’s about all I can say about it.”

“I know,” Omega said, wrinkling her nose.  “I don’t like it either.  But…”  She hesitated.  “Maybe we should say goodbye to the Marauder instead.  We lost her so suddenly.”  She folded her arms over her chest, squeezing herself in a slight hug before returning back to her food.

“Villagers said they hauled up a few more pieces of her, a few days ago,” said Wrecker.  “Nothin’ salvageable.”  He hung his head.  “It happened so fast.  I saw the detonator flash one, two -- I grabbed Gonky -- and I jumped --  That’s all I remember, ‘til I woke up.  And then you were gone.”  He reached out, tousling her hair and letting out a long breath.  “That was a rough night.”  

Gonky, charging in the corner, let out a soft, mournful warble.  “Yeah, we almost lost you, you pile of bolts,” Wrecker said.  Gonky gonked back at him, sounding much more chirpy.

“I don’t think any of us like thinking about that night,” said Hunter.  He glanced at Crosshair, and Omega followed his gaze.  Crosshair had stopped messing with his food and sat there silently, his face somewhat paler than usual, his gaze lowered.

“We don’t have to talk about that part of it,” Omega said quickly.  “But… what about happy memories of the Marauder?  Like -- like the first time I ever saw hyperspace.”  A warm glow filled her chest, remembering Tech’s sure hands on the controls, Hunter’s encouragement, the starfield opening wide before her.  She’d never seen anything so beautiful, so thrilling, so alive with possibility.  The memory sparkled in her mind’s eye.  “The whole galaxy opened up for me the day we first left Kamino.  All those stars.  I’ll never forget that, not ever.”

Wrecker grinned at her.  “Aw, kid.  You shoulda seen your face.  You just lit up.  Never seen anyone so happy before.”

“That was special,” Hunter said fondly.  “Even with everything else going on --- that was a good moment.”  

Crosshair quietly rolled a clumsy wrap together, taking a bite and chewing slowly.

Omega frowned, trying to catch his eye and failing.  Sometimes it was hard to remember that that memory was tied up with their fleeing Kamino… leaving Crosshair behind.  She knew it hadn’t been his fault, it hadn’t really been him that day, and they’d had to leave.  She knew they’d all been moving past that, but it still stung if she let herself think about it.  

She tried a different tack.  “Well, what was it like for all of you?  The first time you saw space?”

Hunter gave her a quick look.  He’d picked up on what she was doing, and approved of it.  He pursed his lips together, deep in thought.  “Our first spaceflight as Clone Force 99…”  He laughed.  “We were itching to get out there.  Knew we were ready.  We’d had the training and then some.  The Kaminoans wanted to make sure we were… ah, worth the investment.”

“We couldn’t be as good as the regs.  We had to be ten times better,” Crosshair said at last.  “And we were.”

“Hell yeah we were!” Wrecker said.  “But they wouldn’t let us go out without those flight tests.  We each had to pass.”  He shook his head.  “Never liked flying.  I passed, but uh, it’s not my thing.”

“What about you, Crosshair?” Omega asked.  “You let me fly when we escaped.”

“I’m an adequate pilot,” he said, shrugging, his nose wrinkling.  “But up in vacuum without atmo, the light can be a little much.”

Omega tilted her head, puzzled.  All ships had treated viewfields to help protect their pilots’ eyes.  Shouldn’t that be enough to block out the radiation?

“Crosshair’s enhancement,” Hunter explained.  “He sees more of the spectrum than we do, but in space, it’s too much.  Gives you headaches sometimes, right?  Something about UV light and scatter?  Tech could explain it better.”

“Something like that,” Crosshair said.  “It’s better with a helmet.  Keeps things manageable.  But I prefer my stargazing from solid ground.”

“Well, Tech and I had fun with the test, at least,” Hunter said.  He grinned at the memory.  “The reg who was grading us did not approve of some of our maneuvers.  Something about not being regulation.  Tech just quoted back three pages of the flight manual to him and then pulled a Tech turn for good measure.  The reg almost failed him out of spite, but Wrecker cracked his knuckles at him, and that was that.”

Omega laughed brightly, hearing Hunter use her name for Tech’s most outlandish maneuver.  It made her miss Tech a little extra, but in a good way. 

“Good thing they didn’t bother with inspections after we passed,” Hunter said.  “They’d have had a heart attack with some of the modifications to the Marauder Tech made.  Some mods weren’t just against regulation, but I think they were technically illegal in many, many star systems.  Of course, that didn’t matter to Tech as long as he thought his ship flew better with them.”  He snorted.

Crosshair abruptly set his plate down on the seat beside him.  “Anyone want any more?  I’ll put the leftovers away if you’re done.”

“Oh no you don’t, I got cleanup!” said Wrecker.  His eyes fell on Crosshair’s plate, still mostly full of food.  “Wait, you aren’t gonna finish that?”

Crosshair shrugged.  His face looked pinched, his jaw set tighter than usual.  “Wasn’t that hungry.  You can take it.”  He got to his feet.  “Going to go take the hound for a walk.  So it’s settled?  We’ll ‘move’ tomorrow?”

“Uh -- yeah,” Wrecker said, giving Hunter and Omega an uncertain look.  “Come on, Cross, stay.  We can all take Batcher later.”

“She needs to go now,” said Crosshair, in a tense, strained voice.  “Save any leftovers for her.”  He hurried out of the shuttle and into the soft dark of the early evening, Batcher at his heels.

Omega, Hunter and Wrecker looked at each other.  “Was it somethin’ we said?” Wrecker asked.

“I don’t know,” said Omega, her good mood fading to be replaced by worry.  “I thought it was nice, talking about the Marauder.  And Tech.”  She glanced back at Crosshair’s mostly untouched plate, remembering how hard it had been for Crosshair to keep his plate steady and roll up his food.  “Maybe his hand is bothering him.”  She sighed.  “Do you think we’ll be able to find him a new one soon?”

Hunter smiled at her, but it didn’t reach his eyes.  “You’re always looking out for him, aren’t you?”

“All of you,” she said stubbornly.  “My little brothers.”  They chuckled, and Wrecker reached out to pat her on the back.  She stuck her tongue out at him playfully.

“Echo talked to him about a prosthesis,” Hunter said.  “It’s not as simple as just running out to the nearest marketplace.  One, they’re not always easy to find.  Two, the people who make and sell them might ask questions about clones looking for them.  It’s a… sensitive thing to acquire.”

“They’re expensive, too,” said Wrecker, taking a bite of the leftovers from Crosshair’s plate.    “Crosshair’s worth it!  But might take some time.”

Omega leaned back against her seat, remembering the credits she’d won off that Imperial officer.  Crosshair had almost been scandalized at how good she was, but she knew he’d been impressed, too.  Despite how dire the situation had been, it was still a good memory -- the two of them against the world.  

Her eyes narrowed.  They’d stuck together in tough times before.  She’d do everything she could to help him here, too.

---

His blood pounded in his ears, a dull roaring rush, his pulse jagged and skittery.  Crosshair rounded a bend in the stairs, descending them aimlessly, no clear idea where he was going.  Batcher followed him, looking up at him now and then with a soft whuff, but he kept onward.

Dinner should have been easy.  He should have gotten something premade, something he could have doled out of a tin one-handed onto their plates.  But the fresh fish had looked good, the villagers’ vegetables fresh and vibrant, and he’d wanted to show his family he could give them something decent.  He’d figured he should try.

It hadn’t been too bad, except for the chopping.  It had taken him the better part of an hour to cut up vegetables for four people.  The vegetables had come out all different sizes, and more than a few big hunks had dropped on the ground for Batcher to eat, but he’d gotten there eventually.  By the time he’d finished, he had thought he might have had this dinner thing down.

Except for failing to account for the fact that everyone else had two hands to roll their food up with, and he had one.  

But those little things didn’t matter.  He was starting to realize that there were just going to be obstacles now, things he couldn’t think of in the moment that would prove to be frustrating and difficult, and that truth was starting to settle into his bones, where he could expect it.  He didn’t like it, but it wasn’t exactly a surprise.

He jogged down the steps, the stone ringing under his feet, his breath coming quickly.  

Dinner would have been fine.  But why they’d had to start talking about --

He stopped, catching his breath, leaning on the short stone wall overlooking the moonlit sea.  He bent over the wall, breathing hard, his eyes screwed closed.

Batcher nudged his leg, whining.  He reached down absently with his left hand, patting her half-heartedly.  

“Sorry,” he muttered.  “You can go back to the ship, if you like.  Just needed -- to get out of there.”

They’d all sat around, trading stories, laughing, eating their dinner easily with both hands; and he’d sat there, getting quieter and quieter, tenser and tenser.  He didn’t understand why panic had started clawing at the inside of his chest, why it had gotten harder and harder to breathe as they kept going.

His breath seared.

He shook his head, nostrils flaring, biting his lip.  Focus.  He went perfectly still.  Then he balled up his left fist and smashed it into the wall.

Pain instantly radiated out from his knuckles, despite the fact he’d pulled back at the last second.  He swore, shaking his hand out, then tucking it beneath his right arm and pressing it tightly to his chest.  

Stupid.  You only have one left, idiot.

He shook his head again with a growl, trembling slightly, breathing hard.  Batcher whimpered, nudging his leg again.  

“I said go!” he snarled.

Batcher sat down, looking up at him defiantly, her tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth.  She tilted her head and whined.

“Fine,” he relented.  He crouched down beside her, reaching out with his throbbing hand to pat her.  He scritched her on the chin, which she always loved, and he took a deep, shaky breath.  

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he muttered.  The hound just leaned into his hand, closing her eyes as he scratched her.  He scratched and scratched, until the throbbing in his hand went away, and the moon swung high above them.

---

Hunter was waiting for him.  He sat on the gangplank, a cup of caf in hand, watching Crosshair and Batcher cross the moonlit colonnade.  

Crosshair sighed.  He’d hoped that being gone so long might have meant the others had gotten to sleep.  He should have known better.  

Batcher galloped to Hunter for a good scratch, then went on inside the ship to go find Omega.  Crosshair closed the distance between him and Hunter much more slowly, at last stopping a few feet away.

“Evening,” he said awkwardly.

“It’s a nice night for one,” said Hunter, just as awkwardly.  He tried to crack a grin, but took a sip of his caf instead.  “That was some walk.”

Crosshair sighed.  “You didn’t need to wait up.  Don’t tell me I have a curfew.”

“No,” Hunter said.  “But I thought you might want to talk.  You left dinner in a hurry.”  He reached behind him, pulling out a closed food tin.  “Hungry now?”

Crosshair glared at him for a moment, then relented, sitting down and taking the proffered tin.  “...yes.”  He’d almost forgotten, he had been feeling so agitated, but his stomach gave a reminding rumble.  He struggled for a moment with the lid, batting away Hunter’s hand before he could lift it for him, and popped the top off.  Inside was a portion of dinner’s leftovers, except the food had already been assembled for him in easy-to-grab rolls.  

His shoulders sank.  Hunter must have noticed he’d been having a hard time at dinner.  He closed his eyes for a moment, torn between accepting the small kindness and telling Hunter just where he could shove it.  

He took a roll and crammed it in his mouth Wrecker-style, barely tasting it.  “Thanks,” he said with his mouth half-full.  He ate a few more pieces in silence, then glanced over at Hunter, who was watching him closely.

“So where’d you and Batcher head to?” 

Crosshair shrugged.  “Around.  Took the stairs for a few laps.  Needed to stretch my legs.”

Hunter nodded, apparently accepting the explanation.  But his eyes flicked down, then back up.  “Did you trip or something?”

“What?”

“Your knuckles.”

Crosshair swore to himself, picking up his left hand.  Scrapes adorned the knuckles, clear as day, and they were faintly swollen.  They didn’t really hurt anymore, but it had been careless of him.  “It doesn’t matter.”

Hunter sighed.  “You’re damn stubborn, Crosshair.  But you’re not subtle.  What happened at dinner?”  

“I don’t know,” Crosshair said honestly.  “But I had to leave.”  He stared down into the tin of food.  He’d been looking forward to sharing a meal with them. He’d wanted to stay.  But there’d been an emptiness gnawing at him the longer they’d talked.  “Felt like… the walls were closing in.  Needed the air.”

The simple admission took Hunter aback.  “Oh.  You’re actually telling me.”

Crosshair chuckled.  “It’s my new softer side.”

Hunter nearly choked on a stifled burst of laughter.  “You’re a shit sometimes, you know.”

“Oh, I know.”

He finished his dinner, setting the tin down.  It had been far easier to eat like this, with a little help.  It galled him even as he appreciated it.

“Did the fresh air help?”

“I think so.  Hard to describe it.  I… wanted to stay.  But I couldn’t.”  He shook his head, frowning, breathing a little harder.  He rubbed his head with his left hand, his palm brushing against the short crop of hair stubbornly growing back.  “It’s nothing.  Just… adjusting.”

Hunter nodded, mouth pulling to one side with a bit of tension.  “If it stops being nothing, and starts being something… just remember, we’re here, Crosshair.”

“Since when did you get so warm and fuzzy?”

Hunter laughed, a sharp barking sound, and checked Crosshair with his shoulder.  “It’s my new softer side.”  Crosshair snorted, and for a moment they laughed together like they were cadets, their guard slipping.

“And how’s your hand?” Hunter asked.

“You mean the lack of it?”

“I -- yeah, I guess.  Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

Crosshair waved his wrist at him.  “Don’t be.  It’s awkward.  I’m still getting used to it.”  He gazed off into the strings of glow lamps adorning the colonnade and the surrounding buildings.  Their bright orange and white and yellow colors swirled together, a soft blush against the dark.  

“Is it still hurting?”

He thought of saying no.  It was certainly less painful than it had been, by several orders of magnitude.  But that didn’t mean it was fine.  “Yes.”

“When’s the last time you saw AZI?”

“Yesterday.  He still has me on pain pills.  I don’t need them often now.  But when I do, it’s --”  He scowled.  “And it’s random.  Hard to predict.”

Hunter nodded.  “You know, Echo pinged us while you were out.  He’s between missions for another rotation, wanted me to let you know in case… you know, you wanted to talk.  Left a message for you.”

He thought of Echo lightyears away, with Rex, Howzer, Gregor.  Good men, after everything.  He had no doubt Echo would continue to fight for a long while.  But talking to him — there was nothing new to say, especially over long-range comms.  Crosshair shrugged.  “Hm.  I’m good.”  He wondered what Echo’s message had been.  Maybe he’d check it out, after the others fell asleep.

Hunter cracked a half smile.  “Yeah, he figured as much.  He and Omega had a long chat, though.”  

“Mhm.  She misses him,” said Crosshair.  He wondered if that had been part of the reason she had seemed so off a few days ago.  

“I think she hoped he might stay with us with Tantiss gone.  But Echo’s followed his own path for a while now,” Hunter said.  He sat back, gazing up at the night sky.  “You were right back there.  On Tantiss.”

”About what?” Crosshair asked, giving Hunter a wary look.

”We’re not Clone Force 99 anymore,” Hunter said in a rough voice.  He held out his hands, bare instead of gloved, no plates or gauntlets on his arms.  They were the hands of a civilian, not a soldier.  “We can let it go.”  He let out a long sigh.  “Ahh, look at me getting — well, whatever this is.”

Crosshair closed his eyes.  Let it go.  It sounded so simple.  He was the one who’d thrown it out at his brothers like a grenade, a bomb to impress upon them the seriousness of what he was saying, something to jolt them into accepting his sacrifice.  And then they’d stepped up.  Told him they were in it together.  He believed it — then on Tantiss, and here on Pabu.

So why was it so hard to lean on them?

He didn’t have an answer.  He opened his eyes, meeting Hunter’s gaze.  “Letting go is easier than it sounds,” he said at last.  

“I think I know what you mean,” said Hunter.  He gave Crosshair a nod.  “Come on, it’s getting late.  And we’ve got the move tomorrow.  You left before Shep and Lyana came by with their announcement.  Guess moving day comes with a party.”

”Oh?” 

“They said the villagers will be stopping by with donations, food, drinks, little things to make the place feel like home.  I tried to tell him we were fine, they’ve already been too generous, but Shep’s as stubborn as you are.  And I could see Omega really wanted to do it.  Wrecker, too.  I mean, there’ll be food involved,” Hunter said.

”Goody,” said Crosshair.  It sounded like a kind enough gesture.  But a day of near-strangers in their new house, when all he felt like doing was being alone, sounded like… a lot.

His arm prickled with a sharp, arcing ache.  He hissed, rubbing it hard with his left hand, biting back a curse.

”Want me to grab your meds?” Hunter asked.

”No.  I got it,” said Crosshair.  He got to his feet, picking up the empty tin of food in his left hand.  He gave Hunter a long look.  “Thanks.  For this.”

”We’ll be more mindful of your hand,” said Hunter.  “Should’ve helped you from the start.”

Crosshair shook his head.  “I have to figure this out on my own.  It’s the only way.”  He hurried back inside to get his medication, his arm tingling in waves, and nearly missed Hunter’s retort.

”It doesn’t have to be on your own.”

[postive-rainworld-anarchy-conf]

i’ve been waiting for people to realize azriel was a terrible person since last december. he reblogged a callout post (full of false accusations about zoophillia and stuff, as per usual) and then just DUMPED this huge rant about how incest fanfiction made him think it was okay to kiss his brother when he was 14.

no i’m not joking. obviously i can’t put a link here but: tumblr dot com / azrielfiend / 737002511661187072/tws-for-a-much-of-stuff-im-reblogging-again-but

just remove the dots and spaces and it’ll take you to the post, but in case you don’t want to, a DIRECT QUOTE from it is: “proshipping influenced me SO much that i almost (romantically and unconsensually) kissed my brother on the lips before my dad stopped me. speaking of my dad, i had intrusive thoughts about him and having crushes on him too.”

it just goes to show that this guy is fr not okay. even at 14, all the incest fanfiction in the WORLD could make me EVER make me think that incest is okay?? you couldn’t waterboard that info out of me either idk why he just randomly decided to dump that shit on some post like that (probably for pity points and to get attention…)

looking at it, and btw for anyone that doesn't know, you HAVE TO make your stuff screenreader accessible, not just because someone else might need it, but because if you ever need it for whatever reason, even for a bit (like after an eye surgery) it sucks to not be able to read what you've written.

especially when in tags, it makes it worse since people who wish to avoid those things can't when you do stuff like put zeros instead of an O, or a 4 instead of an r.

this is just a massive pet peeve of mine, but I read stuff like this and wonder why they are even censoring it like that?

read it and uh.

no yeah, no. ok no what I see what you mean, holy fuck. I mean way to sacrifice yourself to make a point there but damn.

"that sentence is also ableist because it assumes everyone can just tell it apart easily and youre dumb for not being able to."

uh, eh, ah. ok, I mean like. ok???? in that case, don't read it??? what

"i cant rest easy knowing proshippers would influenced kids like how they influeneced me in the past. its haunting, if you say this isnt harmful. then youre surely mistaken. im done. do not argue me on this im just so upset people are defending moonstone."

I think this just you, honestly???

I'm sorry but what the fuck did I just read

huh. that sure was a take & the half

I don't think this was developed because you were in the proshipping community, I just think you had incestuous thoughts about your brother and father? and then tried rationalizing why you did that as being convinced to do so because of proshipping. (even though most proshippers, not all, but most will tell you to not fuck your family, and instead read stuff about it instead or something) instead of realizing that maybe you just wanted to kiss your brother and were looking for an excuse.

this is all on you probably?

like you don't just get thoughts like that from outside sources. that comes from you.

but also at the same time, I don't know the situation, so who knows.

like it's fine to have incestuous thoughts and all, alot of people do. but the problem is acting on them... especially when it's non-consensual...

you have to work through them, not work for them.

well that was interesting

[tsukiyadori]

About the Title "Kemutai Hanashi"

Author Hayashi Fumiya tweeted a link to their pixivFanbox this week, which I have also only now read, despite it having already been up since 2022:

It's about the Title. Everyone can become like Takeda and Arita and everyone can become somebody who'd treat them like 'smoke'. And that is both a right, but also wrong at the same time. It's an article about this subject. It has been completely set to public access, so anyone can read it. [Smoke] Just who is 'smoky'? | Hayashi Fumiya | pixivFanbox

I decided to translate it, as the article is quite insightful for this title, which is, by all means, rather hard to properly translate:

煙たい kemutai means literally 'smoky'. There is something or someone smoky, it stings your nose, throat and eyes, making it hard to breathe and you suffer. Figuratively it describes something awkward, uncomfortable, that makes you feel constrained, crammy, reserved, hesitating while also wanting to keep it at a distance, at an arm's length away, be that out of polite respectful distancing or simply because it's not pleasant to deal with. (Just like smoke.)

話 hanashi can mean story, conversation, or more abstractly a theme, subject, topic, thing.

煙たがる kemutagaru literally means "wanting to make into smoke". It describes being sensitive to smoke or figuratively to dislike the company of someone or considering them a burden, a nuisance, troublesome. So to keep the metaphor it's like they treat them like smoke.

For the article's translation below, I will for the most part use the literal translation of 'smoke' or "smoky" for kemutai, as to not disturb the author's thoughts with my own interpretation.

[Smoke] Just Who is 'Smoky'?

Posted November 7th, 2022 07:45

Occasionally I get questions about the meaning of the title, but I notice I haven't really talked about it. I think chapter 12 delves somewhat onto its core, so I thought now might be a good time to touch upon it.

The title "Kemutai Hanashi" is the title the first installment of the doujin version holds. Basically, its meaning hasn't changed since.

Kemutai Hanashi #1: [Original Work] Kemutai Hanashi I collected the story about the two, that I windingly posted on twitter here. I was hesitating about borrowing the tag, but whether the two have this sort of relationship or not is not an issue of this story. So I would be very happy if you could let it not concern you and read it with a broad heart! 2019.6.30 ps: I was brooding over it, but because the idea of that the feelings of the two are apart from a romantic relationship has solidified, I decided to remove the BL tag from this series.

(Note: This first doujin installment broadly corresponds to volume 3, or in direct scene correlations to chapter 13 and 17, with the chapters in between being new and expanding on it.)

To begin with, this story was not a story about how the relationship between the two is outside the realm of being common and how they kind of can't explain it. It's about Arita who broods over how Takeda's surroundings don't understand him. On the side there is the setting about how their relationship is a sort of not knowing what it is, but the main theme is about 'What is true kindness?'.

At the time, my personal underlying motive for drawing this was because I thought if I talked to somebody about it, they'd think of me as annoying, so I made a manga out of it. If Takeda really existed, likely there would be people just like in the story who would make fun of Takeda's kindness and not understand him. I might be one of them. From the perspective of those people, it might already be bothersome to just listening to anyone trying to defend Takeda. In a way, it is a story, that blames people for not understanding. That's why I decided on the title 'Kemutai Hanashi', which is entwined with the smoking inside this story.

I think I decided on the title as the series title after I already drew several installments of the doujin, but this theme permeates through all of them, because I thought people would think of me as bothersome if I talked about it. It was like declaring "to talk about something bothersome!". If I were asked who was talking about 'smoky' things, the answer would be Takeda and Arita. That's why, at the end of the published version's chapter 1, Takeda says that their life would be a "smoky" thing to the eyes of other people.

One might consider the people of the series, who do not understand Takeda and Arita, or are sensitive to them as if they are smoke, as "terrible people". But not understanding or being indifferent to other people is, if you changed perspectives, something everyone does. Everyone may not understand somebody and consider them to be troublesome. Due to the structure of the story and having Takeda and Arita as protagonists, it's easy to be supportive of them, but everyone can become Takeda and Arita, while they also can become people who treat them like smoke.

I think it's inevitable, that people wind up being indifferent to other people. There is a limit to understanding, and I think you also need to protect yourself. If you were to empathize with everyone and everything that happens, your body won't last. If you blame yourself for not understanding, your heart won't last. That's why I think that, as one option of many, becoming indifferent is not something to be reproached for. However, I'd like for people to be self-aware about the likelihood that you may be indifferent to somebody. I'd like people to not forget, that it might be, that you are treating someone really badly. I choose the title with this sort of self-admonishment behind it.

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

(TL time ~90min)

[redhairedwolfwitch]

Hello Copper Cutie (this one felt a little weird but I couldn't come up with anything better),

How are you my friend? The denial thing is definitely working for me (it's not but I am in denial about denial being dumb).

But for real, I didn't really know what to send you after the last message, because honestly when I read it back when you responded I wanted to throw out my phone to make sure I'd never write anything like that down again. However, I took a deep breath and many walks throughout the week, and I am starting to come to terms with it and I am feeling slightly less icky reading it back now and writing this.

I know I didn't really write anything big or specific, but trust me, it's a lot for me. I am not always this closed off, but when it comes to certain issues, I want to work out my thoughts (and basically solve the whole thing) all by myself before speaking to anyone else about it. And of course there's also the denial thing, not wanting to say or type something because it makes it real. That is a big thing for me.

Anyways, I also wanted to say that I love this way of communicating. It feels kind of old school, like I have a pen-pal or something. It's refreshing in this world of short texts, emojis and direct responses.

As always, much love, and thank you for you kindness <3,

-Chaotic Anon

PS: I don't know what the tag issue thing is about, I have never experienced it myself.

Hello hello, yeah that one is... certainly interesting, but my friend likes to call me gingernut because of you, makes me cringe every time but apparently that's the point of why she does it sksks.

I'm going to bed sksks, my pillow hates me so thus my neck hurts, but I'm doing okay, training at work went well last week so that's good.

Also, I understand, I'm not going to judge you for however you cope with the things on your mind, just take care of yourself:) yeah I love a long response, I just always feel bad because my irl and onlinefriends are all scattered and I barely hear from some of them, they have their lives outside of screens but I always feel guilty for sending long messages of the thoughts in my head and how I thought of them in the process. But I like the chats, they feel like letters a little bit, which reminds me of another friend of mine, I miss her. Wow we're entering sad Lux hours, but apparently my music taste is sad bitch so... ehh I'd like to think I have decent music taste sksks.

Yeah the tag issue, ugh, i posted a fic, in the fic had the original idea linked to it, but then it hadn't gone into any of the tags e.g. 'woso x reader' until i removed the hyperlink to the original idea post... then it went into the tags, but adding the hyperlink removed it from the tags again... it's just frustrating, when you want to post a masterlist but it won't tag as a masterlist is literally a list of hyperlinks to fics, or when you want to link people to past parts of fics but then that recent fic won't be seen as well due to the tags not working... ughhh:(

Thanks for listening/reading me ramble, anon of chaossss:)

[genderkoolaid]

Anonymous asked:

Hey just want to add onto your resent post about swerfs "protecting" sex workers as a sex worker.

So I've been a sex worker for years and have agrued with terf/radfen/swerfs multiple time over it. They don't actually care cause the moment a sex worker speaks up and says that I enjoy doing shit like that they ignore me say I'm lying to myself and I'm inharently abused.

Now while I havent been abused doesn't mean it isn't sadly very common in my line of work. It happened alot and I have helped multiple fellow sex workers with getting the help they need safely and one thing I feel isn't talk about enough is how it's 20x harder for male sex workers to get the heal they need. Almost all the organization for supporting sex workers 1. Often are focused on just removing sex work as an option for people all together or 2. Often don't allow male victims.

This often reflects in the way that terf talk about sex workers, labeling male sex workers as just a small and unimportant amount that just deserve to be ignored and are never abused.

Another weird thing that people don't tend to talk about... And this is more from my experience and may not be universal. Is how if a sex worker is filling any form of dominate or for some people "masculine" role, if they get abuse it's often viewed as not as bad or even not abuse.

Terfs and other like that often only think that women can only be submissive sex workers but the moment they are in a dominate position write their abuse off as not actually abuse.

A sex worker I was close with had something like this happen to them. They where hired to do bdsm and when they got their they where locked in and the client threaten to report them to the police, unless they did something they weren't comfortable with.

When I was helping them find help it was incredibly difficult as their abuse was viewed as less important as other who received similar abuse but where in a submissive role. It was basically impossible to get people to believe it even was a form of abuse because they where inflicting pain on the abuser.

Though they did end up finding help and are doing well.

I'm sorry if this is long but it just frustract me that problem like this are often ignored or not brought to light. I love being a sex worker but I do know how dangerous is it, and it annoys me when terfs just try to make it worse.

They don't want us to be sex worker so they will activly work against us. They'll try to get sex work more illegal or other shit and it pisses me off.

—

Thank you very much for sending this in. I've thought a bit about how male sex workers get erased, but I hadn't yet linked that and how male victims of abuse get erased, so really, thank you.

These are some very, very good points. I mention in the tags of my post how I view SWERFs as being basically the same as how, in the past, Christian activists have often "supported" sex workers by viewing them as lost women who have ~succumbed to sin~. They generally held/hold sympathetic views on sex workers and didn't actively hate them, but they viewed sex workers as basically helpless children who needed someone to come sweep them off their feet and make all their decisions for them to "save them".

And I think that connects very well to this, because you can really only do that about generally white women, because they are viewed as the most precious people in society outside of white children. It's much harder to stir up whorephobic moral outrage about male sex workers getting abused, because "men can't get abused unless they let it happen."

Nobody wants to save men, nobody views them as in need of help or sympathy, especially men who are viewed as immoral deviants.

And the thing about dominant vs submissive sex workers getting abused is something I wouldn't have even thought of! But it make a lot of sense. We insist that people who we view as strong and powerful could never be hurt, and with how dominance is tied to masculinity that adds another layer to it.

There's also a lot of transphobia which can go into this, in multiple ways. For one, there's transmisogyny, which can't be discounted as a reason AMAB sex workers get ignored; many sex workers who are AMAB are transfem, and transfem sex workers have always been looked down on by society for not only being sex workers but deviant sex workers.

There's also transmasc sex workers, who get erased- I actually read a paper talking about the absence of transmasc sex workers in studies of trans sex work. Transmasc sex workers also have to deal with things like fear of pregnancy & the issue of seeking abortion while transmasc, and trans people in general find themselves being excluded from support groups because they only cater to cis women, or they allow trans people but are actively unsafe places for trans sex workers to be.

SWERFs only care about the image of a weak, submissive, white cis woman sex worker they have in their mind. They aren't interested in viewing sex workers as complex people with diverse opinions, who are trying to survive under capitalism like everybody else. They view them as martyrs and symbols of female oppression.

[theliterarywolf]

Ooh, I thought Thanatos and Zagreus aren't actually blood siblings, ooh that clarifies things. I just assumed we just glossed over it because of all the already established incest in the Greek pantheon. This hellsite really shouldn't be that judgey of incest ships when wincest is a thing here. This reminds me of complaints I saw about people shipping two characters in black clover anime because they both grew up in a orphanage together.

My dear, you just reminded me of the perfect story that, I think, reveals one of the core motivators of all this FanPol wank.

When I first joined this hellsite it was around the same timeframe that the original Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword released for the Wii.

So the first fandom on here that I joined was centered around that game, particularly anything centered around Ghirahim, Demise, and Link. I don't know who initially put forward the idea of a 'bad-end' AU scenario of Link losing and being taken in as a subordinate/slave of the prior two, but it did catch on. Those of us in the fandom that made content for that AU eventually gave it the tag of 'Spandexverse', inspired by the art someone had drawn of the black, skintight attire that Link was made to wear in this AU.

However, the main thing to keep in mind is this: we used a completely separate tag and kept to that separate tag so as not to bug anyone.

Cue a month or so later when someone who wasn't even in this small offshoot of a fandom started making posts and rallying others against it. One of their main justifications for this?

'What if they take this shit to cons and cosplay for it? If someone asks "what are you from?" and they answer "Oh, I'm from a Legend of Zelda AU where Link gets raped a whole awful lot~! XD" Do they not get how that reflects on the rest of the fandom?!'

Aside from trying to police what types of media other people consume, they seem to want to scrub everything 'problematic' from certain fandom spaces because, despite every old-guard fan holding true to the notion 'not every aspect of fandom is for everybody', they want to be able to treat all fandom-spaces in the same vein as the medias themselves. I.e.: Oh, I can just talk about this in a school or work setting and it'll be the same as someone talking about a sport or their favorite celebrity.

But you can't do that with every aspect of fandom. Sure, there are general audience portions which you can, but discovering that there's an NSFW sector managed and curated and censored by adults and deciding that you must make it commit die for the safety of others and your fandom's reputation is asinine at best and egomaniacal at worst.

Look at this hellsite in of itself. Despite all the censoring and scrubbing from staff and campaigns from FanPol, what is the outside perspective of tumblr? "It was better when the porn and weird ships were there." Trying to remove that reputation and function has done nothing but have a rippling, negative effect on other websites and fandom as a whole.

And it's what keeps causing us to have people with the sheer AUDACITY to come to an adult's inbox and go 'No, no, no! You shouldn't interact with that media! It's far too problematic for your feeble mind and it'll result in you thinking that bad things are good~!'

[randomshyperson]

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - The Third Year

Series Masterlist ||  Read on AO3

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies.

Chapter Words:  7.290K 

Chapter Notes: Wanda x Reader friendship is here. And more about the world history. I’m pretty sure this is the last chapter where things are easy going. Just like Harry Potter, things start to get dark during four year. Good reading to everyone, i hope you like the story so far.

Tag list ( let me know if you want to be tagged or removed idk haha) @mionemymind​ / @abimess​ / @stephanieromanoff​ / @yourtaletotell​ / @tomy5girls​ / @justagaypanicking​ / @thegayw1tch​ / @idek-5​ // @myperfectlovepoem​ // @helloalycia​ // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @imapotatao​ / @aimezvousbrahms​/ @ensorcellme​/ @helloalycia // @ichala

//-// x //-// //-// x //-//

Your list of materials is much longer in the third year.

Tony complains that you shouldn't have taken so many classes, but you are so curious to explore the areas of magic that you can't help it.

This time, Mantis meets you in the diagonal alley. You were hoping to spend some time with Gamora and Nebula as well, but once you get a glimpse of their father, you know that's not going to happen.

Thanos is a tall, muscular man, and has a permanent aggressive look on his face. He also kept his hands on the shoulders of his two daughters while they were waiting to be attended to at Flourish and Blotts. You also noticed that your friends were wearing very beautiful and remarkably expensive dark green capes, and just like their father's outfit, they had a bundle of a silver snake. That was the first time you understood what Slytherin pride meant.

"He's scary." Mantis commented softly beside you. You nodded in agreement. Groot, who was a little bigger since you saw him last year, jumped on your shoulder, sitting next to your ear. You smiled at the creature before looking forward again.

You and Mantis were standing at the entrance of store, and saw your friends through the window. You gave up the idea of complementing them when you saw their father.

"Let's restock the potions list first, Mantis." You tell her. "Then we'll buy our books."

You meet Tony again at the Leaky Cauldron after you finish. He hides something from you quickly, but you are distracted by an apple muffin flying towards you, and you don't ask.

Bucky was staying at the Leaky Cauldron because his house had a magical accident. His father said something about a persistent spell flood. Since the rest of Bucky's family were muggle, only he and his father were staying there, solving the problem while Bucky's sisters were at his aunt's house.

Since everyone needed to buy the materials for the new school year, Tony asked you to join his friends when you were done buying your stuff.

After lunch with everyone, Mantis said goodbye to you, and you returned Groot to her hands.

You led her to the exit of the bar, but as you walked back to the table, a conversation caught your attention.

"I'm telling you, they saw him in Sokovia." A bearded man whispered. He looked so nervous, you couldn't help but pay attention. The woman standing next to him, a cup of a strange liquor in her hands, rolled her eyes.

"That's miles away, Thomas." She said. "If Korvac gets anywhere near London, the ministry will send him back to Azkaban in two seconds."

"He's already escaped once, Sara." You rebut the man. 

You frown at the conversation. Walking back, you have a thoughtful frown on your face, and Tony teases you.

You get distracted by Steve's jokes about the coming year, and forget all about it.

It's only after you've packed your bag, during dinner, that you remember.

"I heard something strange today." You say casually as Tony and your father dine beside you. "Some folks in the Leaky Cauldron were talking about someone escaping from Azkaban."

Your father chokes. Tony stares at you, and ducks his head when your father looks at him angrily. Howard gaze softens when he looks at you however.

"Honey, who told you that?"

You shrug.

"No one told me dad." You reply. "I ended up overhearing two strangers talking about it. I never knew about anyone escaping from Azkaban before, it seemed important."

Tony kicks you under the table, and you frown in confusion. Your father takes a deep breath.

"Honey, listen to me carefully, will you?" He begins, and you worry at his serious tone. "There are important things going on at Daddy's work. Things that could be dangerous." He says and you look at him in surprise. "You and your brother are too young to be getting into such matters, and I hope you will trust me to keep you both safe."

"Yes, dad." Tony assures, but you remain silent. A moment later, you add: 

"Daddy, is there anything I can do to help you?"

"No honey." He says taking back his fork. 

"It's okay to tell me what's going on, I won't be scared. I can help..."

"Enough!" He exclaims angrily punching the table. You jump lightly in your chair, startled. Your father doesn't look at you. "I don't want you to hear anything about this anymore. You two are children, and it's dangerous. Have I made myself clear?"

You look at Tony, but he is glaring at the plate in front of you. 

Swallowing the urge to cry, you get up, hurrying to run to your room.

Your father calls you several times, but you don't answer. 

A few minutes after you are in your bed, he appears in your room. His posture is much gentler than before, and he kneels down beside your bed.

"Honey, hey." He calls to you. You keep your face in the pillow, and he sighs. "I'm sorry for yelling at you." He says, and with your silence, he continues. "Can you forgive me?"

It takes a few seconds, but you look at him, and nod. Howard smiles faintly.

"You and your brother are the most important things in my life." He says fondly. "And I would never forgive myself if something happened to you because of me."

"Dad, you can't control what is in the rest of the world."

Your father chuckles lightly. 

"Yeah I know." He says. "Damn, I wanted you to stay a little girl forever, so you wouldn't be so smart."

You laugh, pushing his shoulder lightly.

"You're not going to tell me what's going on, are you?" You ask and your father sighs, looking away.

"It's nothing that will affect you honey." He says. "It's just problems of the magical world. I don't want you meddling in something like that. Not at this age."

You sit down on the bed next, raising your pinky to your father.

"I swear I won't pry into such business if you promise to tell me if things get serious enough for me to know."

Her father laughs, raising his own pinky then.

"I promise, kiddo."

You both laugh as you take the oath, and your father hugs you next. When he lets go and stands up, you pull his hand away.

"Apologize to Tony, Daddy." You ask surprising him slightly. "He doesn't like it when you yell either."

Your father sighs, bending down to kiss your forehead. He asked you to go to sleep before he closed the door.

//-//

It is very cold when you arrive at Hogwarts.

But you don't care because all your friends link arms and walk together, making you laugh at the confused looks you get when the other students notice the small row.

Over dinner, your mood changes quickly however.

"I imagine it has come to the attention of many students here, especially the older ones, the recent untoward events in the magical world." Principal Harkness began during the announcement of the new school year. She had a serious and authoritative tone, and deep dark circles under her eyes. You have never seen her like this before. "But for those of you who are not aware, the dark wizard known as Korvac escaped from Azkaban a few months ago." The hall exploded into murmurs at the mention. You saw Professor Strange lock his jaw, probably disagreeing that such a topic should be broached with eleven-year-olds. "After much consideration, the Ministry of Magic thought it best to apply additional security to the castles."

"So, starting next week, we will have special guests at the Hogwarts castles; The ministry has determined that aurors and Azkaban guards will be guarding the outside of the grounds."

The crowd erupted in boos as soon as the words echoed in the hall. Your Hufflepuff colleagues remarked in horror that the dementors, the guards of Azkaban, were terrifying, and you sought your brother's gaze at the Slytherin table, but he was looking earnestly at the principal.

Agatha sighed impatiently, and the hall fell silent. She asked everyone to be careful with the guards in Azkaban, not to give them reason to fight back. And then she returned to the daily announcements as if nothing had happened.

You didn't eat very well after that.

History of Magic with Professor Okoye was one of the hardest classes in school.

You were hoping to get decent grades this year, but you were assigned to be with Peter as your pair, so you knew you would have to work for two, as your friend had no interest at all in that subject.

"Why don't you try to pay attention?" You asked slightly annoyed as you made your notes. Quill was drawing small dragons in his notebook.

"I want to be a famous Quidditch player, I don't need to know the history of the Goblin revolution for that."

You sighed, turning your attention back to the blackboard. Several minutes after class had begun, a Gryffindor student raised his hand.

"Professor Okoye, may I ask you a question?" it was Thor Odinson, and he seemed to have grown at least twenty inches over the summer. You noted that his hair was also longer when you looked back, wondering who was speaking.

"Of course, Odinson." The teacher said with a gentle smile. Thor cleared his throat as he lowered his hand, seeming to hesitate.

"Could you tell us about the Mephisto followers?"

The room fell absolutely silent at the mention of the name, and many students looked at Thor with wide eyes. The smile on Professor Okoye's face completely disappeared.

"Where did you hear that name, boy?" she asked sternly, Thor swallowed dryly.

"M-my father, ma'am." He replied. "I heard him send a bawler to the ministry quoting that name. When I asked, he told me to study the history of the wizarding world. I thought I would ask you because I couldn't find anything in the books."

The room looked at the teacher expectantly. Okoye sighed, seeming to decide whether to talk about it or not.

"Listen to me carefully please." She asked as she walked around the tables. "Some years ago long before any of you were born, there was a sorcerer who made all the wrong choices. He sought immeasurable power, and was never satisfied with his own abilities. And many other wizards believed that the quest for ultimate power was something worth dying for. When this wizard became a symbol of power and cruelty, he named himself Mephisto."

Her classmates exchanged startled looks, but the teacher continued to tell.

"The dark wizards and witches who supported this quest became known as the Followers of Mephisto, or Walkers of Death. The magical ministries around the world banded together to put an end to the group, and there was a great battle, where most of these wizards were imprisoned or killed in a duel."

"What happened to Mephisto?" Thor asks suddenly, interrupting the narration. The teacher hesitates, but then gives a reassuring smile.

"He's dead, of course." She assures.

"My mother says he was never found." Added another classmate, you think her name is Valkyrie, but you've never talked to her. Much buzz runs through the room at her utterance, and Professor Okoye twists her fingers nervously.

"When the Walkers of Death were eliminated, Mephisto lost his power." She tells seriously. "The last person who faced him is related to someone in this room actually."

Professor Okoye turns to you, and you want to sink into your chair, feeling your heart soar.

"Auror Howard Stark was the last sorcerer to fight Mephisto before his demise. Thirteen years ago." She says and you feel all the stares on you. "But that's enough from this matter for today, students. Mephisto's story is taboo in our witch community because of the thousands of lives that were lost during that period." She adds, "I hope you will be respectful about the memory of those victims, and not comment on such a thing, or mention the name of this despicable wizard again."

The teacher closes the subject after that, looking upset. You can't pay attention to the class again when she goes back to talking about the magical revolution.

//-//

"Did you knew about that?" You ask angrily when Tony looks unimpressed when you approach him in the third floor hallway, after searching all over the school for him.

He looks tired.

"Stop talking so loud, will you?" He asks looking around. "Of course I knew, I've been researching this story for months."

You frown in confusion, and Tony rolls his eyes leaning against the bookshelf next to him.

"I didn't tell you anything because you're only thirteen!" He adds nervously. "That's not children's business."

"It is my business if it involves our family!". You retort angrily. A group of students walk past you, looking at you curiously, but Tony just pretends to be admiring the trophies until they leave.

"Look, I don't really know what happened, but dad used to be an auror when mom was alive." He recounts. "And then he took on this powerful sorcerer, and mom died when you were born. He became an inventor, switched departments in the mystery, and nobody talks about this Mephisto guy nowadays."

"Do you know what this has to do with the wizard who escaped from Azkaban?" you ask with your arms crossed, Tony gives a chuckle.

"Isn't it obvious, sis?" he retorts wryly. "Korvac was Mephisto's greatest ally at that time. And he escaped from the most secure prison in the world. A lot of people think that means the walkers are getting back in business again."

"My god Tony, why didn't dad tell us any of this?" You ask worriedly and Tony laughs humorlessly, looking upset.

He straightens his posture and points to the glass on the trophy shelf that was propped up. 

"And there's more." He says. "Take a look at that."

You turn your face to stare at the objects that were stored there. Most were trophies, but there were also pictures of the Quidditch teams from previous years. Tony is pointing to one of those.

"No way." You whispered as you see it. In the caption on the board, it read "Howard Stark and Erik Lehnsherr receiving awards for their honorable service to the school." It was your father and your teacher, probably in their senior year, and they seemed both content. The magical photograph showed them hugging each other by the shoulders, huge smiles on their faces, and two golden cups in their hands. 

"Yes, little sister." Tony said also looking at the picture. "Dad and Magneto were friends in school days. I wonder what happened to Professor Lehnsherr to make him so bitter. He looks happy in that picture."

The sound of the bell announcing the next period makes you jump in fright, as you were completely distracted by the photograph in front of you.

"Let's talk about this later, Tony, I have charms now and..."

"No way, Y/N!" Tony interrupted frowning. "That's none of your business. Dad told me that you promised to stay out of it, and I agree with him. You're too young!"

"Oh and you think he'll like knowing you're investigating this whole story?" You retort and Tony sighs, looking away, "That's what I thought.

"I'm not going to get you mixed up in this story."

"Fine, I'll find out on my own, then."

"Y/n..."

"See you, Tony."

//-//

Having dementors in the castle is really scary.

It's been two weeks since classes started, and with the first Quidditch game of the year approaching, you're pretty anxious.

You didn't make much progress in your research during those days. None of the professors wanted to say anything about Mephisto's time, and you lost fifteen points when you tried to ask Professor Lehnsherr about his school days, for being a snoozer.

The only things you found out other than what Tony told you were what Gamora and Nebula shared with you. They mentioned that Thanos was particularly busy during the summer, and that they had never seen him go to the Ministry so often before. 

You also started reading the Daily Prophet, and every day they would publish something about Korvac's escape, even if it was only to say that there was no news in the case. 

When the day of the first match arrived, you ignored the strange feeling that settled on the edge of your stomach as if something bad was going to happen.

You are overjoyed when you are in the air, waiting for the match to start, and notice that all of Tony's friends, including yourself, have yellow flags in their hands to cheer you on.

Everything goes well until the end of the first half.

You noticed a bludger almost reaching your chaser team mate, Clint Barton and moved forward to defend him many meters above the stadium. Because it was raining, your visibility was very poor. You knocked the ball away, but lost sight of Clint, although you heard him shout a thank you. As you dived down again, lightning exploded beside you, and you jumped in fright, feeling your ear whistle as you became completely disoriented.

As you began to get used to your surroundings again, you felt your body become completely tense. The cloud in front of you was almost a face shape, it looked like someone with horns or maybe wearing a tiara. The image dissolved in the next second, and you felt a strange chill run through your body. Releasing the broom handle only to hug your arms, you looked down, the whole team many meters away. 

When you tried to join them, something came in your way.

Dementors must have been the scariest thing you had ever seen in your life. And there was one of them right in front of you. You widened your eyes in shock, and the creature looked straight at you.

Losing your strength quickly, you felt yourself slipping off the broom. A feeling as if you had been wrapped in a very painful spell overtook your body as you fell. 

//-//

You woke up in a jolt, and warm hands pushed you back into bed.

"Relax, kid." Your brother spoke with a smile. "I swear I'll actually forbid you to play at some point."

"What happened?" you asked confused. All of your friends and Tony's friends around your bed.

"You fell off the broom, damn it." He retorted and you rolled your eyes.

"Yeah but there was a dementor up there..."

"Yeah, everyone saw it." Tony interrupted looking annoyed. "Professor Harkness kicked everyone out of the stadium after Professor Strange conjured up the patronus."

"I have never seen Professor Strange so angry." Gamora remarked next. 

"Oh, there's something else." Natasha warned moving around the crowd to stand beside you on the bed. "Your broom fell into the Whomping Willow, and well. It' s right here."

In Nat's arms were the remains of what had once been your Nimbus 2000. You sighed in displeasure, but at least you could ask Jarvis to buy you another one.

After you were released from the nurse's office, Principal Harkness was waiting for you in the hallway. She waved for all your other colleagues to go their ways, as she escorted you to the Hufflepuff common room.

"Tell me, dear, are you feeling all right?" She asked tenderly. You nodded in agreement as you walked.

When you reached an empty hallway, she stopped walking, and touched your shoulder so that you would do the same. She knelt at your height and looked deep into your eyes.

"Tell me what you saw up there."

" Professor, I don't remember..." You started to say, but then fell silent, immediately recalling what you saw as you gaze the purple glow in front of you. It was as if your thoughts came out of your lips before you even thought to say them. "I saw an image in the clouds, it was like a horned creature or someone wearing a crown. Then the dementor reached me and I felt an immediate chill and unhappiness. I had the feeling that I was wrapped in a sensation of pain as I fell down."

The professor seemed to absorb every one of your words. She smiled then, her eyes returning to their normal color quickly, making you believe you had imagined the whole thing.

"Thank you dear." She said. "Let's keep this between us, okay?"

When you two walked back, you didn't remember any conversation at all.

//-//

Your first trip to Hogsmeade is amazing.

You buy two bags full of candy at the Honeydukes, and then you and your friends go to the Three Broomsticks, to have some buttery beer.

Quill seems to have become friends with Pietro Maximoff during Quidditch practice, because as soon as they see each other, they greet with a hug.

You ignore the feeling of nervousness that settles on the pit of your stomach when your gaze meets Wanda's.

Your friends don't mind sharing a table with the Maximoff twins, and that's how you end up sitting a few feet from Wanda, Gamora's watchful eye on you trying to understand why you're so quiet and flushed.

"Everyone is so nervous about the dementors at the castle, that I think we should try to do something fun. Like throw a party." Quill suggested to the group. Mantis looked excited.

"I think we could do something before Christmas." Gamora suggested and the group agreed.

"Does anyone have any idea where we can have this party? Quill asked." Since we are from different houses, maybe the common rooms are not a good option. I heard that the Slytherin kids don't really like the Hufflepuffs.”

Quill's teasing makes Wanda roll her eyes, but the rest of the table giggles. You look away to your cup.

"We could use some empty room on the seventh floor." Pietro suggested, and Quill gave an excited exclamation.

"This is a great idea." He said. "If the older students are going to participate, we can get some prefect to cover for us."

Quil looks at you and Mantis has to poke your shoulder for you to notice and pay attention.

"Sorry, what is it?" You ask when you notice all the looks on you.

"Can't you convince Steve Rogers to join us? He's your brother's boyfriend."

You laugh, nodding in agreement

"Okay folks, I'll try to call them all."

On the way back to the castle, after you spent the afternoon talking about the most diverse random subjects and telling jokes, you leave your hands in your pocket, because it is very cold.

Quill and Pietro start playing tag, and Wanda walks alone. You hurry up to join her.

"Hey." You greet with a smile, Wanda also has her hands in her pockets.

"Hey". She responds kindly.

"Is everything all right?"

"Yes?"

"Are you asking me?" You say back with humor and Wanda laughs, looking at the floor as she walks. "I… I thought it was cool this afternoon." You confess the next moment, feeling your face get hot. "With everyone together, I say. And you and your brother, it's ... you two are nice."

"Thank you, Stark." She replies with a smile. You move your fingers inside your pocket before you speak again.

"If we're going to be friends, you can use my first name". You say and Wanda looks at you, but you keep looking forward.

"Are you sure?" She asks after a moment. You frown without understanding. "Are you sure you want to be my friend?"

You look at Wanda in surprise. But then your expression softens.

"I thought we were going to be friends last year, but you looked angry every time you saw me."

Wanda laughed lightly, looking ahead.

"Yeah, I… I'm sorry about that." She says. "It wasn't something you did. It was just a few things I heard. And I ended up thinking that you were judging me like everyone else at that school." She tells you. "It would make sense since you saw me face the troll." Wanda whispered the last part. You bit your bottom lip before speaking again.

"You could have talked to me, you know?" You say. "I kept thinking that I had done something wrong."

Wanda said nothing, and you sighed, running your hands through your hair.

"We can forget about it and be friends now, what do you think?" You then suggested a smile on your face.

Wanda looked at you, and her green eyes cause something in your stomach to sink.

"I would like that."

"Cool." You comment breathlessly.

//-//

Being friends with Wanda is so natural that it almost surprises you.

Now whenever you sit down at the Slytherin table, there are two new members in your group of friends.

Eventually you discover that it was Quidditch that build Quill and Pietro friendship, as they stopped fighting because they were spending a lot of time training together.

At the Slytherin table, you know that Pietro and Quill receive angry looks because they are from Gryffindor, but no one has the courage to say anything to you, perhaps it is the deadly stare that Wanda gives anyone who dares to look foully at her brother.

You also succeed in inviting Steve and Tony, in addition to your brother's other friends, to the party before Christmas. Steve says that you all can use the old Astronomy room on seventh-on Saturday, and that the curfew would be at ten o'clock. The news of the party ends up spreading quickly around the school, but your friends don't seem to mind that it stopped being something small just between you guys.

When the day finally comes, you wear a comfortable jeans and sweatshirt set, realizing that it is a choice of clothes much more similar to Muggle-borns than pureblood but no one seems to care.

"Hey, you took so long" remarked Gamora as soon as you went up to the seventh floor and met her at the door of the room. "Come on, everyone is already in there"

As you took some of the non-alcoholic fruit drink that Mantis helped Quill make, you looked around the room. You waved sheepishly when your eyes met Wanda's, who was coming in. She looks very beautiful in her wine red sweater, and she smiled at you, and you didn't understand why you felt your stomach flip.

Soon everyone were all together, talking animatedly on various subjects. When Quill and Pietro started doing a dance competition, you laughed so hard that your belly was aching when they were done.

//-//

You have your first Divination class that week.

Professor Heimdall was already waiting for the students while he was sitting on a kind of ivory throne in the corner of the room, which smelled of incense that made your head spin slightly. It really was a remarkably mystical and mysterious environment, even for a magic school. The illumination was limited due to long white curtains on the walls, and there were many candles scattered around the room. Mantis whispered that this kind of thing was done to increase concentration when working with this kind of magic. 

"Welcome to our first meeting on Divination, students, the most complex and unstable of magical arts." began the professor as soon as everyone was seated at the tables spread around the tower. "I must warn you that if you seek answers to your most personal questions here, you will most likely not find them. There is no stability in this subject."

Some students commented softly among themselves, but no one seemed willing to contradict the professor, his yellow eyes roaming over everyone in the room.

"Let's begin today's class with an introduction to the basics of study in divination." He warns, and with a flick of his wand, the cupboards at the back of the room open, and from there several sets of cups fly out to all the tables. Then the professor touches his wand to the teapot on the table, and it multiplies into four pairs, flying around to serve everyone.

When everyone has their cups full, Professor Heimdall goes to the small blackboard, and begins to explain how divination works. You hurry to start writing it down.

Many minutes later, when you have finished your tea, Mantis pokes your shoulder.

"Let me look at yours and you do mine?" she asks and you nod, handing her your cup. You clear your throat, looking intently at the dregs of tea in Mantis' cup.

"I don't see anything." You grumble, trying to concentrate. The powder doesn't seem to form anything. 

"Remember to check the symbols in your books." Warned Professor Heimdall aloud the next moment. You took a deep breath, running your fingers across the paper as you tried to identify the images.

"Mantis, let's switch, I don't think I'm getting anything..." You start to say softly looking at your book, when you glance at your friend however, you frown in confusion. She has her gaze glazed on your cup, one hand covering her mouth, "Mantis, what happened?"

She gasps softly, and you straighten your position as you notice a thick tear running down her cheek, feeling your heart soar with worry.

"I'm... I'm so sorry." She sighs breathlessly, dropping her cup on the table. The noise attracts everyone's attention, but Mantis is getting up the next moment, and running out of the room. You stand up, but Professor Heimdall puts his hand on your shoulder.

"Don't worry, miss Stark." He says. "It's common for those more sensitive to divination to have that kind of reaction in their first contact with the spirit world." He explains with a tender look. You don't understand why, but his voice calms you. "Go back to your activity, I will talk to your friend."

He waves to the rest of the room next, and then leaves. You sit back down, exchanging worried glances with Gamora and Nebula who are at the table in front of you. 

Your first action is to look at the cup that Mantis has thrown on the table, but the impact has broken it at the bottom, and the liquid has run down the cloth. You sigh in dissatisfaction, using your wand to clean up the mess.

When class is over, Gamora and Nebula quickly join you.

"Any idea what that was about?" Gamora asks as you walk together through the castle. 

"No, she just got a glazed look in her eyes, and then she ran off." You count. "I'll try to ask her in potions class."

"Maybe she saw some evil omen." Nebula comments, and Gamora elbows her in the stomach. "Ouch."

You frown worriedly.

"Does that mean something bad is going to happen to me?"

Gamora denies with her head, forcing a smile as if trying to reassure you.

"Bad omens can be many things, even something silly, like losing a sock in your room." She says and you leave your hands in your pockets, not feeling reassured by this information.

"Yeah, but Mantis wouldn't cry over a sock." You retort and Nebula nods in agreement, but Gamora has a serious expression.

"I'd rather think it's nothing bad." She says. "Professor Heimdall said it's normal for sensitive students to have that reaction, isn't it?" She adds and you shrug. "Maybe she's just been watching you lose a game or something, but she was so overwhelmed with having seen something, that she got emotional."

"I hope you're right." You grumble as you reach the stairs. You sigh. "See you at lunch, girls. Have a good History of Magic class."

Gamora and Nebula wave goodbye and head in the opposite direction from you after they watch the staircase move.

You hurry to avoid being late for potions.

//-//

Mantis doesn't come to the dungeon either. You poke Quill in the back as he sits down in front of you, and ask if he's seen her anywhere, but he shrugs, worried that you don't know either. You just sigh, telling him what happened in class.

"I'm glad I didn't take that subject." He says as he hears the story. "I've heard that some people learn to see the day that the other person is going to die. That's scary."

You laugh incredulously.

"That sounds like a lie."

Quil shrugs his shoulders. "That's what I heard."

You wish you could talk more, however Professor Erik entered the room the next moment, and everyone fell silent. You tried to forget about the divination class by concentrating on making your poison antidote correctly next.

//-//

You only found Mantis at lunchtime.

Or rather, she found you.

You had just come out of charm class, and she was waiting for you outside. You looked at her with surprise and concern, but she just smiled, looking much more relaxed than earlier.

"I'm sorry I disappeared." She says. "Professor Heimdall thought it best that I get some rest, and then he taught me some things about aural sensitivity."

"I don't know what that means." You comment making her smile. 

"It doesn't matter." She says. "I'm sorry for scaring you earlier."

You shake your head.

"Mantis, come on, no need to stress about it." You retort. "I was worried about you, and I'm sure it wasn't your fault." 

Mantis smiles, looking forward. You bite the inside of your cheek, finding her strangely calm and distant.

"Do you remember what you saw in my cup?" You ask hesitantly, and a small glint passes through Mantis' eyes, but then she smiles quietly, denying it.

"It was no great thing, I believe." She says. "Professor Heimdall has assured me that it must have been just a bad memory, and that there is nothing to worry about."

You frown, but something in Mantis' expression tells you that she just won't talk about it anymore. Not wanting to make your friend uncomfortable, you don't press the issue again.

//-//

It's Christmas again, and you don't go home.

This year Hogwarts is much emptier than it usually is, and you know that it's because of the dementors. 

The vast majority of the families, even those who usually leave their children at Hogwarts, have asked the students to return home. Your father briefly mentioned in his last letter how there were many requests for shift changes during the holiday period.

Tony also stayed in the castle, you knew he was planning to enter the forbidden section of the library, and he had told you to mind your own business when you asked if you could help.

Surprisingly, Gamora and Nebula returned home. It was very unusual because Thanos didn't like parties, but they promised to write to you. Mantis always returned home, so you just handed over your present before hugging her goodbye. Quill and the Maximoffs stayed with you.

"You know you're losing right?" you remarked with amusement as you were spending time with your friends in the Gryffindor communal room, a wizard chessboard in front of you. Quill let out an annoyed groan. 

"That game is harder than it looks." He grumbled looking at the pieces. " Knight move to E3 please."

The piece moved, cursing softly that Quill was making a stupid move, and you laughed.

"Can't you see her bisbe right there you idiot? "Squinted the black item, and Quill sighed in irritation.

"You want to play by yourself, do you?" He retorted, and Pietro and Wanda who were watching you two, giggled.

"Are you talking to the game, Quill?" Pietro teased as if the boy in front of him was crazy. 

After you beat Peter, it was your turn to face Pietro. He was a much better player, but he still made a lot of thoughtless moves.

Someone walked past the door, and you heard noises of footsteps, and then there was a girl joining you all.

"Hey, Monica!" Pietro greeted the girl cheerfully as soon as he saw her. The girl smiled at him. "Guys, this is Monica Rambeau, she is..."

"Professor Rambeau's daughter." Quill completes as if it is obvious. And you and Wanda smile at the girl. "Everybody knows Monica, man."

"What are you guys doing?" The girl asks curiously.

"Playing chess."

"Losing at chess, you mean right?" you tease with a smile. Pietro and Quill laugh in agreement, Wanda is distracted by the book in her hands.

"Do you want to hang out with us?" Pietro asks.

"Actually, I'm going to go outside." Monica says excitedly. "I just went in to get a coat. Darcy and I are going to make a snowman. Why don't you guys join us?"

You exchange glances with your friends. They all seem to think the same thing. And that's how you end up in the outside yards, in a snowball war.

" Back off, Pietro, I'm on your team!" You yell at the older Maximoff who has just hit you with an icy snowball to the chest. Pietro laughs.

"In war it's every man for himself!" He shouts running toward you. You laugh as you run away from him, preparing to hit Quill who is in the opposite direction.

"Hey, get down!" You heard someone shout and you turned around, obeying the order as soon as you noticed Darcy's raised arm toward you. She threw a snowball at someone behind you, and you laughed when Pietro let out an exclamation. Running toward the girl, you thanked her with a wave of your hand before running back. 

After hitting Monica and Quill twice, you ran out of Pietro's reach when he appeared at your side, laughing. Stumbling, you ended up miscalculating your speed, and knocked Wanda down next.

"That's a foul." Joked Pietro as he watched you two fall, laughing along with both of you. Before he could throw a snowball at you, Quill was back and he ran. You helped Wanda up as you apologized for knocking her down.

"One point each." She says holding the snowball at chest height. You smile, and wait for her to throw the snow at you. She laughs when she has done so gently, pushing the ball against your shoulder, the icy liquid running down your blouse making you shiver slightly. 

You pick up a snowball from the ground next, but when you look at Wanda, her face flushed with cold, and emerald eyes sparkling with amusement, you don't have the heart, and just smile wryly, making her look at you curiously.

"What is it?" she asks confused by the way you are just looking, making no mention of throwing the snow at her.

But the moment was broken next, when you all heard an animalistic noise nearby, and turned your heads with curiosity.

A few meters away was the guardian of the lands, Drax, leading a line of winged horses through the snow. You and your friends let out a chorus of excitement.

"Wow, look at the size of those horses." Pietro commented looking in the same direction. 

"They're not horses, people!" Monica exclaimed excitedly. "They're unicorns! Mom said we were going to study them next class don't you remember?"

Only when Monica said this did you squeeze your eyes shut to get a better look, and you could see the white horns in the distance. Drax waved at you from a distance when he noticed that you all were looking. He led the horses to the area where the class on Magical Creatures was usually held, and you saw that Professor Rambeau was waiting for him.

After that, it seemed to get colder. And you all decided to go inside and have some hot chocolate, as you took your friends into the kitchens. The elves were happy to serve you sweet breads and cakes, even outside of dinner time.

//-//

On Christmas morning, all of your friends, including Tony and Natasha who was Tony's only friend to stay at Hogwarts, gathered at the same table in the main hall for the gift exchange.

"Stop fussing, boy, you'll mess up the presents!" You heard Darcy complain to Quill. She and Monica were also with you because Pietro invited them. Neither of you guys minded, because they were very nice.

"I'm just trying to get a peek." Retorted Peter raising the gift package in the air out of Darcy's reach.

"It's not your gift, so you can't look!" 

You laughed at the interaction, finishing opening the package in front of you. Natasha had given you a new collection of wand care products and you loved it.

"You do need to take better care of your wand indeed." Teased Tony when he saw the gift. You laughed while waving a middle finger at him, and stood up to hug Nat in appreciation.

Most of the gifts were clothes, and candy. You bought a collection of exploding snap cards for Quill, and he was very pleased, already throwing the cards on the table to play with everyone. Pietro and Monica eventually agreed to participate, while Darcy watched them.

"That's mine right there." You said shyly to Wanda as she picked up one of the packages from the stack. "I hope you like it."

Wanda bit her lower lip in anticipation as she opened the package. And when the red scarf became visible, she fell silent, and it was your turn to be nervous.

"I know you're from Slytherin and all, but I've noticed that you really like red." You hasten to justify. "And then I saw this scarf in Hogsmeade and I remembered that day after charms class that you forgot your scarf and Pietro lent you his and so I thought it would be a good idea and..."

"I loved it." She interrupts looking at you. Her cheeks redden and a tender smile on her lips. You relax with relief immediately.

"Oh, right." You say. "Good, then."

You think you've been looking into Wanda's eyes too long, because your face is starting to heat up. But Peter gives a celebratory shout for getting the card move right, and you and Wanda look away quickly. She puts on her scarf next, and you look down at your lap to hide the silly smile that insists on escaping your lips.

//-//

When classes at Hogwarts return, the Dementors leave.

Apparently there was a big commotion in the Ministry of Magic. You hear many students commenting on this during the class break. And then there is a story in the Daily Prophet saying that Korvac was killed in combat with aurors in London, but there are also many people saying that this is a lie, and that he has run away again and the Ministry of Magic doesn't want to assume to the public.

Anyway, Headmistress Harkness removes the dementors from the castle and the atmosphere in the school improves considerably.

Nebula has a large purple mark on her left eye when she returns. Gamora tells everyone that she fell off her broomstick. You choke when she tells only you that it was Thanos who did this after he caught her snooping in his office.

"You can't tell anyone about this, okay?" She asks tearfully and you nod frantically, hugging her to calm her down. "I've never seen our father like that."

"It's okay now, Gamora." You say tightening in your embrace. "I will help you."

When you write to your father, asking what to do in a situation where the dangers are indoors, he says that Stark Mansion is big enough to accommodate your friends.

When you come home for the vacations after doing very well on your final exams, Gamora and Nebula are with you.

[googoojeu]

you and me and one hell of a shitty world || yang jungwon x gn!reader

; the world already ended, but jungwon's admiration for you hasn't

genre: fluff, angst (if you squint), post apocalyptic world

note: two am thoughts, i apologise for grammar mistakes, lea is sleepy rip (also i think i got carried away... oops) also the ending kinda sounds meh but i tried to work it out so im sorry 😭 also wasn't proofread,,, i'll fix some mistakes in the morning yeet

warnings: cursing, reader asks jungwon if he wants to die

— 🎧 :: song recommendation

[ wild nothing — chinatown ]

— :: lowercase intended !

tagging: @skyaura-koo

"let's get out of here."

you flinch at the sudden contact of jungwon's hands on your shoulders. you glare at the boy before letting out a groan. "are you nuts? heeseung's going to be mad at us, besides we're on look out." you don't miss the way his nose wrinkles at your words. meet yang jungwon, the little rascal with a scar on his nose, hands and fingers full of bandages and cat-like eyes that were to die for. he'd probably be the boy of your dreams if the world didn't sadly end on a wednesday. "screw him, you haven't been happy since we rescued you." you let out a scoff. funny enough, jungwon went to your school. class president, student council leader, taekwondo athlete, good grades and hoards of fangirls on his tail, but not once did you see him at your school. probably because you both lived in different worlds despite being in the same time and space. and to be frank, you weren't an insider nor an outsider. you were just a neutral human being that was trying to live through the hell, fate was giving to you. "how do you know i wasn't "happy" before you rescued me?" jungwon playfully rolls his eyes before flicking your forehead. "we used to go to the same school (name), you seemed uninterested most of the time." you let out another groan. "okay first of all, ouch. second, fuck you. third, do you wanna die?" jungwon chuckles. "well anyways, come on. it's just one night, it won't hurt right?" he says as he extends his hand to you, hope glimmering in his eyes. he gently nods his head as if saying, 'take my hand, i know you wanna do it' and you did.

"a grocery store? really? that's the best thing you could think of?" you complained as jungwon drags you to the canned goods section. "better than nothing sweet pea." he winks at you before taking what was left on the shelves. you roll your eyes at him before roaming your eyes at the destroyed appliances inside the room. god, how you missed the world when it was okay. "you good?" you hear jungwon ask. "yeah, just... just missing the world." you reply with a small voice. jungwon stops himself and looks at your back facing his. jungwon admired you a lot, even before the world decided to stop existing for a long time. you were nice, fully capable of doing things on their own, but you always looked unapproachable. with the signature scowl on your face, jungwon decided to just not bother you. he sighs, putting down the can of baked beans he was trying to fit in his bag that was now full. he marches towards you, takes out the radio he's had since he was a kid and a copy of "wild nothing's chinatown" and gives it to you. "play it and loosen up." you stared at him with wide eyes but obliged nonetheless. the song starts and as it echoes through the walls of the empty grocery store, jungwon started dancing. his moves were fluid like water, sharp like a knife and when the moment he grabs your hands to twirl you around, you feel your heart beat faster and the butterflies on your stomach start to form. he let's out a shout when you accidentally step on his foot. "i don't dance jungwon!" he just laughs and continues to grab your hands to loosen you up. "god i wish zombies were real so they could eat you." you grumble. "too bad they don't." you stuck your tongue out before removing your hands from his grip. as the song ends and starts again, you start to feel the rhythm and decided to just, why not fuck it? and dance. jungwon stares at you in amazement. he never saw you dance or that big smile on your face that you were wearing at the moment. he smiles fondly at you. ni-ki would probably call him a simp if he was there.

"if the world didn't end, i'd probably take you out on a date."

you stopped dancing and faced him. both of you staring at each other in embarrassment. the song continues to play as jungwon scratches his nape, a habit he does when he's in an awkward situation. you let out a scoff and a small smirk started to form on your face. "is yang jungwon flirting with me right now?" his face falls. "ha! you wish! anyways let's go back, heeseung's probably looking for us." he grabs the radio and turns it off, the song stops midway, the empty grocery store is dead silent again. as jungwon makes his way out, you link your arms with his and playfully punch his shoulder. "you could've just asked me out, i'd definitely say yes." he looks at you one more time before opening the broken door of the broken building. "even if the world already ended?" you nodded. "even if the world already ended."

[hellacioushag]

Not sure how often you read other theories but what are your thoughts on Elain and the 8th court? Personally, I don't see how she's connected to it and I'm not even certain it'll be brought up in the future.

I feel like Elain's book is going to consist of her coming to terms with: her life as a Fae, the mating bond, Koschei and Autumn Court business.

i haven't gone into the tags since seeing the post about gwyn and ianthe so idk about this theory in relation to elain, but i have seen it for nesta on my dash a lot. i don't see how it could work for elain tbh. even if we assume elucien isn't endgame (it so is) it still wouldn't be a right fit for elain. from what i've seen on my dash and my own thoughts if anyone would rule this 8th mystery court, dubbed the dusk court by some, it would be nesta and cassian.

for one she and cassian spent a lot of time in acosf playing the political intrigue game. if you remove that bit from the book nothing changes. nesta would still train to be a valkyrie, she would still obtain the dread trove, she would still make a magic sword, she would still enter the rite, cassian would still not get her because it would be a death sentence to both of them, nesta would still defeat briallyn, and she would still save feyre and nyx. so why include the politics and eris stuff if it really didn't matter to the overall arc of the book? imo it was to set both nesta and cassian up as a political powerhouse. to establish them as being capable rulers in their own right.

secondly cassian himself is the character most tied to the prison. he has imprisoned the most vile creatures there. what character would be better suited to rule over them as a sort of warden? to keep the outside world safe and keep the monsters under control? sure rhys has done a decent job, but aside from it just being part of the night court by some default setting the prison is pretty autonomous from him. it's not as linked to him as it is to cassian.

and lastly the pegasus:

According to legend, the pegasuses had come from the island the Prison sat upon—had once fed in fair meadows that had long given way to moss and mist. Perhaps that was part of the decline: their homeland had vanished, and whatever had sustained them there was no longer.

there's a lot of theorizing about nesta bringing life back to the pegasus. yes, they are exclusively helion's in the day court, but we already know they are nearly extinct from the passage above. it could possibly be because their home is gone. so who better to breathe life back into them than a valkyrie? not all legends, but some claim valkyries rode on the backs of winged horses/pegasus. nesta claiming the title of valkyrie and her and emerie/gwyn creating their flying legion of warrior women out of the clipped illyrian women and priestesses just makes me smile sfm.

so yeah i don't know or care what the theories on elain are cause i doubt any of them would make more sense than nesta and cassian taking over the prison court.