#i knew this would happen eventually but me feeling this bad about it jist makes everything a lot more real and also just so much more sad

[turb0pussy]

men are the worst thing to ever happen to femme friendships

[free-pool-trash]

x of swords - george weasley

part one of three

Summary: Growing up as Harry’s neighbor, you always believed that you were completely regular. In an attempt to feel closer to Harry (your best friend) you begin to dabble in the art of divination and, in the process, you uncover magic that you didn’t know you had. (i hate doing summaries this does not sum it up but you get the jist)

Relationships: George Weasley x Reader, platonic!Harry Potter x Reader, platonic!OC x Reader, platonic!Sirius Black x Reader, platonic!Remus Lupin x Reader, platonic!Fred Weasley x Reader, platonic!Nymphadora Tonks x Reader, platonic!Molly Weasley x Reader, platonic!Hermoine Granger x Reader, Sirius Black x Remus Lupin

Warnings: Swearing, anxiety, fluff, angst, mentions of torture, mentions of death (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word count: 22.9k 

so here it is 😏 i was going to wait until i was completely finished with this to post it but i didn’t wanna rush it and oh my god it’s already so long  😫 I’m moving to Edinburgh in 2 weeks so i won’t be able to write as i have so much to pack so i hope this keeps some of you happy for a while <3 obviously i put a lot of effort into this and spent a lot of time on it so i really hope yall like it and i will personally kiss everyone who comments. likes or reblogs <3

mastelist

Life on Privet Drive was definitely something- something being incredibly boring. Nothing even remotely exciting happened on the street and the company was, to put it simply, miserable.

You’d lived in 5 Privet Drive since birth which, unfortunately for you, meant that your family are extremely close with the Dursleys who live next door. The Dursleys are a family of bigoted, pig-headed bullies. Made up of Petunia, Vernon, Dudley and, in your opinion the only tolerable one, Harry.

From the age of five, Harry had been your only friend on the street and vice versa. Initially, the both of you had bonded over your dislike of Dudley but as the years rolled on Harry and yourself had become virtually inseparable.

It was certainly strange- how close your parents were with Petunia and Vernon. Your mother and father are actually quite lovely, they are the complete opposite of the Dursleys, they’re open minded, kind and extremely friendly. But, you supposed, their friendliness didn’t discriminate from person to person, even if said person forced their orphaned nephew to sleep in the cupboard underneath the stairs.

There was no denying that Harry had been miserable with the Dursleys, who were unfortunately his only remaining family and you supposed you should’ve been happy when your best friend finally got away from them after his 11th birthday.

You’d missed him for the entire school year and you only got a chance to ask where he’d actually gone off to when he’d arrived home for the summer. (You didn’t believe the story Vernon had spun about Harry attending a boarding school for juvenile trouble makers).

“It’s incredible, (Y/n), honestly! I wish you could be there too.” He’d told you when you finally saw him again, after he’d finished his first year in his mysterious boarding school.

“That’s great, Haz, but where exactly is it?” You wondered and Harry only gave you his signature grin.

“Scotland.”

With a heavy sigh you let the subject go, he was clearly happy wherever he was going to school so it didn’t matter where or what it was. As long as he was happy.

By the time his 12th birthday rolled around you’d found the perfect gift for him. You’d made your parents buy you a polaroid camera for him to take away to school, he’d told you so many amazing stories about his school, you wanted to see some of it for yourself so you figured a camera would be the best course of action.

The morning of his birthday, Harry was woken up by the sound of pebbles tapping against his barred up window. The boy looked out to see you waving at him, an excited smile on your face and a neatly wrapped present in your other hand. Harry couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face as you beckoned him down with your hand. It was barely dawn but you knew better than to give a present for Harry to either his aunt or uncle because they’d only give it to Dudley, so it was best to get it to him before the rest of his supposed family woke up.

Hogwarts was amazing and Harry was over the moon to have discovered he was a wizard and make so many new friends, but he had missed you- his only friend in the muggle world. Your birthday was only a few weeks after his and he hoped that maybe you’d get a hogwarts letter of your own, obviously that hadn’t happened. Nonetheless he was happy to see you in the summer, he couldn’t shake the thought that Ron and Hermione would have loved to meet you though.

Slowly and quietly, Harry snook down the stairs and out the front door to meet you.

“Happy birthday, Haz!” You whisper-shouted excitedly, pulling the green-eyed boy into your house so he wouldn’t get caught outside when he wasn’t even allowed out of his bedroom.

Harry rolled his eyes at the nickname, “I hope you know that you’re still the only person who calls me that.”

“Good,” you said happily, closing the front door behind you. “Anyway, I got you something that you can bring away to school with you!” He rose an eyebrow at you as you pushed the carefully wrapped box into his hands, “Open it,” you instructed. And so he did.

It was very possibly the most expensive gift he’d ever gotten, you (or your parents) usually got Harry presents that couldn’t be stolen by Dudley. For example, your mother had taken to buying Harry his own clothes, seeing as your best friend was a lot taller and thinner than his horrid cousin.

You, on the other hand, would usually make him gifts with sentimental value, something Dudley had absolutely zero interest in. The camera though, you knew would be safe as Harry would be leaving for school again soon enough.

Harry stared dumbfounded at the cardboard box that held the rather large polaroid camera, judging by the image on the box it was a good quality thing, probably expensive. “This is… really nice, (Y/n).”

A bright smile found your lips as you rushed into an animated explanation about why you’d picked a camera as his birthday present this year.

“So you can take lots of pictures of you and your new friends in your new fancy private school and when you come back here you can show them to me!” Harry chuckled and nodded his head, hoping he’d be able to find time to take pictures like you wanted.

“I’ll take pictures of everything. Promise.” He told you, holding out his pinky with a cheeky grin. You linked your pinky with his and nodded gratefully.

“We should christen it,” Harry announced, tearing into the box and he quickly set the camera up before he pointed it at you expectantly. “Well, come on then. I’ve told my school friends all about you, they’re going to want to see what you look like too. So, smile-“ with a disbelieving laugh, you crossed your legs underneath yourself from where you were sitting on the floor across from Harry, and tucked your hair behind your ears before you looked directly at the lense of the camera and gave it the brightest smile you could muster. The camera flashed and the picture slowly revealed itself, it seemed to be good enough to satisfy Harry’s twelve year old self.

He’d shown the polaroid to Hermione first, the bushy haired girl had smiled softly as she held the polaroid gently, “She seems lovely, Harry.”

Harry had nodded his head in agreement, you were lovely. He just hoped Dudley wasn’t terrorising you too much while he was away. His cousin always had somewhat of a crush on you, which Harry knew was ridiculous considering you all but loathed Dudley.

True to his word, Harry had taken plenty of pictures, many were of (non-magic) areas of the Hogwarts campus, many were of his friends; Ron, Hermione, Fred and George Weasley (who had an absolute field day with the muggle contraption), one or two of Hagrid and he even managed to capture a nice one of the owlery. Although you were one of his best friends, sometimes thinking about you while he was in Hogwarts brought his mood down. It reminded him of how much he wished you could’ve shared in his adventures and not to mention how much he missed you, you could hardly send him an owl, what with being a muggle and all, so he only got to spend time with you during the summer months.

Things had changed during his third year, though. When he received a rather shocking, albeit very welcome, letter.

Dear Harry,

I’d like to start by saying: hi, how are you? How’s school? Good? Great. Now that that’s out of the way… when you come home I’m going to KILL you!!! I cannot believe you didn’t tell me you are a wizard! Well, I understand why you didn’t but anyway.

You’re probably wondering how I found all of this out. Long story short, I saw Vernon’s sister floating around your sitting room and then I saw you running out swinging a wand around. I put two and two together. You would not believe how long it took me to figure out how to get in contact with you. I practically had to beg Dudley to tell me how to get this package to you, he eventually told me how in exchange for a kiss on the cheek. It was as horrifying as it sounds, the things I do for you, Haz, honestly. Don’t worry though, you can make it up to me over the summer.

I bought an owl by the way. I’m guessing she found you okay? Look after her for a little while before sending her back will you? She’s just a baby so she can’t do too much long distance travel just yet.The lady I got her from is a witch, she was very kind and knew exactly what I was looking to use an owl for. Her name is Astra (the owl’s not the lady’s)! Isn’t she lovely?

Moving on from that, I felt bad forcing you to send me pictures and getting nothing in return so I have decided to very kindly grace you with my exhilaratingly normal life. You will also find I sent you some of those sweets you like.

Tell Ron and Hermione that I said hi! Oh and Fred and George too! Get into lots of trouble for me ;) I suppose I better stop rambling now, sorry about that I’m just excited (and i might be missing you… just a tiny bit!)

Write back to me soon, if you can! Tell Astra I’m proud of her for making her first delivery! (give her plenty of treats for me yeah?)

I’ll let you get back to your wizardy stuff now, Haz.

Lots of love,

(Y/n) xoxo

P.s. your magical secret is safe with me. promise.

Harry looked up from your letter with a dazed smile, your new little owl was looking at him expectantly, no doubt awaiting her treat, “Good job, Astra. Your owner says she’s very proud of you,” he informed her, handing her a piece of bacon from his breakfast plate and laughed when she hooted happily.

Astra is a gorgeous little tawny, she has brown and white feathers that were fluffy to the touch. Harry could already tell she was well suited to you though, she was friendly as anything with the most curious eyes he’d ever seen.

“Whose it from?” Ron grunted from beside him, munching happily on his huge breakfast.

Harry let out a short laugh, digging into the envelope to pull out the photos and sweets you’d sent, “(Y/n).”

“I thought she didn’t know about you?” Hermione asked from beside Ron, Harry only shrugged.

“She figured it out. She’s quite clever, I think you’d like her Hermione. She says hi by the way.” He answered somewhat distantly, distracted by the pictures you’d sent, all of which had writing on the backs. He paused on one photo, he guessed one of your parents had taken it, you were stood in the woods, surrounded by trees with a huge smile on your face, your eyes were closed and your nose was scrunched up as a very tiny Astra seemed to be nibbling at your ear affectionately.

“I’m sure we’d get along, I admire her determination, really. And she even bought an owl?” The girl questioned, reaching over and petting Astra gently.

Harry’s smile was gentle as Astra hopped onto his shoulder, “Yeah, suppose she did.”

“Alright! I’m gonna say it!” George Weasley exclaimed, plucking the photo of you from Harry’s grasp, he held it between himself and Fred, the older twin had somehow swiped the letter you’d written. “Harry’s girlfriend back home is quite cute, don’t you think, Freddie?” Fred nodded resolutely, pushing the letter into George’s face as he pointed towards a specific line.

“I have to agree and look, Georgie, she told Harry to tell us that she says hi! Ugh, such a darling,” Fred fake swooned and Harry felt his face heat up while George made kissy faces.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Yeah, you had opened Harry up to a whole new world of teasing yet somehow he didn’t mind.

“Oi, do you think she’d like some of our Weasley products?” George asked genuinely, wiggling his eyebrows. Harry shuddered at the thought of you getting a hold of anything that Fred and George had created, because yes, you would like some magical pranking products. You had quite a talent for mischief, only in Harry’s worst nightmares would the Weasley twins ever get their hands on you.

Harry shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, “Dunno.”

“She single?” Fred asked jokingly and Harry scrunched his face up. He supposed you were single, though, he’d never really pictured you with anyone. He felt quite protective over you, but he supposed he'd like to see you happy with someone he approved of- or alternatively; anyone but Dudley.

“Think so,” Harry told him with another shrug before a cheeky grin spread across his lips, as he focused his attention on the twins who were nudging each other in mock victory, “Why? Should I write home and tell her the esteemed Weasley twins have a crush on her?”

George was the first the speak, he nodded, completely serious and Harry found himself worrying that perhaps one of the Weasley twins would get his hands on you.

“Yes. Absolutely,” Fred snorted and said no more, allowing his younger twin to continue the girl based antics seeing as Fred’s actual crush, Angelina, had started to glare. “In fact, give her my name. Tell her to write to me next time, eh?”

Harry’s eyes widened, oh Merlin, George was serious.

“Oh sod off, would you? The poor girl is a muggle, she’d throw herself off the astronomy tower if she got stuck with either of you prats.” Ron said through a laugh, none of them could deny it was quite funny, even Hermione had to bite back a smile at the chaos your simple letter had caused.

Around two weeks had passed until Astra returned to you, two letters attached to her leg this time.

You greeted her with a warm smile as she landed on the inside of you window, “Welcome home, pretty lady! Did you have a nice trip?” You cooed, patting her feathers and giggling when she nuzzled her head against your fingers. Having a magical owl as a pet was weird, but still, you seemed to be managing her okay.

Astra hooted happily, as if informing you that she did, in fact, have a nice trip. “That’s good! Let me take these letters off and you can have a well deserved rest, I’ve made a nice nest up for you,” you rambled softly as you untied the string that was holding the letters to her leg.

Astra hooted, hopping onto your arm and allowing you to place her on the plush pile of pillows and blankets which she immediately made herself comfortable upon, once again hooting in content when you placed a handful of treats in front of her.

You assumed that both letters were from Harry until you noticed the messy handwriting that covered one of the envelopes, handwriting that definitely didn’t belong to Harry. Besides, never, even in the furthest reaches of your imagination, would your best friend ever refer to you as; “Harry’s Pretty Neighbour”. You set that one to the side for the time being and focused on the letter you knew to actually be from Harry.

Dear (Y/n),

Hi. Sorry I didn’t tell you I was a wizard. If it makes you feel better I was actually planning on telling you this summer, but thank you for saving me from that conversation. I miss you too (only a tad). I hope you’re having a good school year so far, it’s been pretty chaotic here but I promise I’ll tell you every single tiny detail when we see each other at the end of May!

Did Astra get home okay? She’s a really lovely owl, she took quite a liking to George who (terrifyingly) has taken quite a liking to you. He’s been badgering me all week for “permission” to write to you, in his words, “just to say hello.” I think you’d actually get along but he and the rest of his family are very magic oriented, I’d be surprised if he didn’t scare you away… the pair of you together would be my worst nightmare. Don’t even get me started on how I’d feel if Fred was in the mix too. I’m tired just thinking about it.

Thank you for the sweets they were lovely, I put a chocolate frog in the envelope for you, it’s a really popular sweet in the wizarding world- don’t freak out when it hops, it’s just a charm the frog isn’t really alive.

I enjoyed the pictures too, I put a few in this letter for you too, the polaroid is running out of film but it should be enough to keep me going until the end of term.

Write to me again soon, I like hearing from you.

Take care,

Harry.

P.S. I’m really sorry you had to kiss Dudley, I’ll do something to make it up to you. Promise.

P.P.S. If George OR Fred manage to write to you PLEASE don’t eat anything they give you.

With a laugh you set the letter down beside you. Curiously, you reached a hand into the ivory envelope and pulled out the peculiarly shaped chocolate box as well as the polaroids. You viewed the photos with a fond smile, Harry always looked so happy, even with whatever chaos was happening around him. Wizard school definitely made your best friend the happiest he’d ever been.

Opening the next letter, which you now guessed judging by Harry’s letter, came from George Weasley, Harry’s friend Ron’s older brother. That was all you knew about him. You let out a gasp once you opened the seal, a small show of tiny fireworks shot out, exploding in balls of reds and oranges across your bedroom before they disappeared as if they’d never been there in the first place.

Slightly frazzled, yet amazed, you cautiously plucked the letter from the envelope and began reading.

Hello, Harry’s Pretty Neighbour.

I hope you enjoyed the show, hopefully it didn’t startle you too much… I’m not exactly sure what muggles are used to… if it did scare you I’m sorry.

Anyway, just wanted to say hi. Promised Harry I wouldn’t spook you, he’s quite protective of you, you know. It’s very sweet.

I don’t blame him, though. If I had a friend as pretty as you I’d be protective too ;)

Don’t break my heart, write back?

Yours truly,

George Weasley x

And that had been the start of it. Two years had passed since you’d discovered the wizarding world and it seemed as though things had simultaneously gotten worse and better. As it turns out, your lifelong best friend was some sort of prophetic hero in the wizard community and on top of that it seemed that there was a war brewing that he would be expected to lead.

Of course, you were completely useless as you don’t possess the ability to perform magic which also means you're at risk of being hate crimed by some classist, wizard, blood supremacists? You weren’t sure. But Harry was worried.

You’d been writing back and forth to a few of Harry’s Hogwarts friends (your friends now too) for a long while now, you’d even gotten a chance to finally meet them when you’d gone with the Dursleys to collect Harry from King’s Cross Station.

You got along best with Hermione seeing as she was raised similarly to yourself and Harry. However, of all of Harry’s school mates, you liked George the most. Everyone could have predicted it really, you’d been writing to each other constantly and the second you’d clapped eyes on each other in the flesh he’d broken out in a run to crush you in a hug. Harry had groaned at the sight of the pair of you, smiling widely at each other, seeming to slot together perfectly. He had to laugh about it now though, if things went well with Ginny he supposed you’d probably end up being his sister-in-law, assuming his predictions of George falling completely in love with you were correct (they were, he knew).

All air of laughter or wizard/muggle romances was gone at the moment however. You and Harry sat alongside each other, your hand holding his loosely between the swings you were sat on, he’d be going into his 5th year at Hogwarts soon, he’d yet to recover from the last. He’d made a friend only for that friend to be killed right in front of him. He’d almost been murdered himself for God’s sake.

“If you don’t feel safe, Haz… maybe, I don’t know? Don’t go back?” You suggested weakly, knowing he’d never do such a thing. As you expected, Harry shook his head and looked at you solemnly.

“Can’t. Not now that he’s back.” With a sigh you squeezed his hand.

“They should be paying you for this, you know,” Harry chuckled then, squeezing your hand in return.

“I’m doing this for you too. To keep you safe.” He admitted and you sighed miserably.

“I wish I could be of more help.” Harry scoffed, his green eyes shining with pure disbelief as he stared at you.

“More help? (Y/n) you must be joking…” he trailed off as you shook your head, you weren’t joking, you hated that you couldn’t help Harry through this, for once you knew there was nothing you could do to improve the situation in any way that would make an impact, “Oi. Look at me,” Harry demanded, no trace of the usual awkward sarcasm to be heard when he spoke.

You let your eyes meet his again and watched how they seemed to soften when he took in how utterly defenceless you looked, “If it hadn’t been for you, the first ten years of my life would’ve been an even worse hell than they already were. You were the only good thing and you’re still the only good thing about being back in this place.”

He watched sadly as your eyes fell to the floor again, “Besides, the sooner we get this mess with Voldemort sorted out, the sooner you and George Weasley can navigate the whole muggle/wizard romance thing.”

At his statement you barked out a laugh and Harry let himself smile too, “Shut up, Potter. S’not like that.”

Harry laughed then too, “Oh it is so like that, (N/n).”

“It so isn’t.” You grumbled, but your little smile confirmed to Harry that it absolutely was like that.

“Okay. Fine, please then do tell, what is going on between you and the infamous George Weasley?” Harry challenged, revelling in the way your cheeks burned with embarrassment. He let out a low chuckle when you shrugged shyly and kicked the stones beneath your feet.

“I don’t know… We write to each other a lot, and I think he’s really interesting and funny and sweet and of course I think he’s fit. But, I don’t know,” you bit your lip as Harry listened to you, he found it quite endearing. “I just don’t see how it would work. I like him, yeah, but…” Harry scoffed again as you trailed off. He hated seeing you feeling so insecure, Harry was clueless about a lot of things, but he knew exactly how much his best friend was worth- more than all the gold in Gringott’s.

“Ok as your best mate, and as someone who is very close with the Weasley family, I’m telling you that he’s mad about you. All he ever does is ask me about you, Fred is completely sick of him. He’s even told Molly about you, which is truly a commitment believe me,” Harry started, growing more content with the more bashful you became, “And didn’t he write to you just before the Yule Ball to tell you that he was going with Katie Bell as a friend but he wanted to tell you just incase you heard it from someone else and he didn’t want you to get the wrong idea?” Finally, you were back to fighting a smile.

“Yeah he did.”

“Well there you go. But seriously he hasn’t dated or even so much as looked at anyone else since he met you. Which I’ll be honest is super annoying for me but you deserve someone who thinks you hung the stars in the sky.”

A mock gasp left your lips and you released his hand to place it over your chest in faux hurt, “You mean to tell me you don’t think I hung the stars in the sky? I’m hurt, Harry. I think I’ll have to rat you out to Mrs. Weasley.”

Harry laughed but the lighthearted atmosphere didn’t last long before Dudley had shown up with his little gang of bullies, all of whom made fun of Harry’s nightmares.

It was then things had taken a turn for the worst, the sky turned black and storm clouds completely blocked out the previously scorching sun. You looked to Harry for answers but he seemed to be seeing something that you couldn’t, all you knew was that it had become unbearably cold, a feeling of misery making a home in your bones as Harry rushed to pull you to your feet.

“Run! Come on!” He shouted, clutching your hand tightly in his and sprinting through the neighbourhood until you, Harry and Dudley found yourselves struggling to catch a breath in a graffiti covered tunnel.

A terrified yelp left your throat as what you’d been running from revealed itself to you.

Several floating, cloaked shadowy figures swooped into the tunnel on both sides, their hands decaying and boney, their presence leaving you with the feeling that you’d never know positively ever again.

Harry had effectively used his body to cage you against the wall of the tunnel, his back pressed firmly against your chest, your own back pressed to the cold concrete wall, his wand was at the ready as the creatures approached rapidly.

“Don’t look at them.” Harry instructed, protecting you first as you watched in horror as one of the creatures seemed to be ripping Dudley’s essence straight out of his body.

It only took Harry a few painfully long seconds to take care of the creature in front of the pair of you, you’d wished you’d taken his advice and buried your head in his shoulder so you wouldn’t see the monstrous creatures before you, yet, you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from Dudley.

The rest happened in a blur, Harry had yet to let go of your hand as it (and your entire body) shook violently. Demontors broke even the strongest of wizards, Harry knew that as a muggle who’d never seen a magical creature, other than an owl, you’d react negatively.

“If it makes you feel any better, I used to faint every time I saw a dementor.” You nodded numbly, giving Dudley a side glance of concern while he mumbled incoherently to himself.

“Is he alright?” You questioned meekly, voice shaking. You were still freezing and the all too familiar feeling of uselessness didn’t do anything to help you regain your inner warmth.

Harry nodded, “He will be.”

“The ministry will be after my head for using magic outside of school,” he told you after a few minutes, squeezing your hand lightly for the umpteenth time, “So I’m gonna have to go away for a while. Probably tonight. Eat some chocolate, it should stop the shaking.” He told you, you hadn’t even noticed you’d reached Privet Drive.

“And they won’t-“ your breath got caught in your throat and your eyes filled with fear, “The dementors. They won’t come back, will they?”

Harry shook his head, “No. But come on, we should get you inside before the ministry shows up and tries to obliviate you.” His final words came out as more of a mumble than an actual sentence as he passed a bumbling Dudley over to Petunia and Vernon before steering you down your own driveway.

“You better not have broken her too, boy!” You vaguely registered Vernon’s voice shouting in your and Harry’s direction.

Your parents were away on holiday at the moment, in Spain. They’d wanted you to come but you hadn’t wanted to miss Harry’s visit, so when you shakily managed to open the door the house was completely dark, you weren’t sure at what point night had fallen.

Harry closed the door behind himself and made his way into your kitchen, the boy rifled through your sweet press before his hand finally settled on what he was looking for. A triumphant sort of yell left his lips as he pulled a bar of chocolate out of the cupboard.

While Harry tossed the bar onto the counter and busied himself with boiling the kettle, you stood in the hallway still, completely rigid.

“Come on, (Y/n). Sit down.” He urged gently, not turning around. Wordlessly, you fully entered the kitchen and slid into a chair facing Harry.

“Don’t you have better things to be doing than making me tea?” You wondered, setting your hands on the table and fidgeting with your icy fingers. Obviously, you appreciated Harry’s fussing but with the way he was talking about the ministry earlier you were sure he had more important things to worry about.

Harry only faced you once he was finished making your tea. He carried the hot cup and the previously discarded bar of chocolate over to you, he placed them both on the table before giving you a hard look, “I’m looking after you first. I’ll deal with everything else later.”

“I used to be the one who took care of you.” You said through a sigh, taking a sip of the hot tea and slumping against your seat as you began to heat up on the inside again.

Harry let out a low chuckle, “Oh how the tables have turned.”

“I liked it better the other way.” You complained, munching on a square of chocolate.

“Trust me, so did I,” Harry groaned, standing up and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Don’t worry though, (N/n). Have a sneaking feeling that you’ll be looking after me again soon enough.”

You patted the hand he had clamped on your shoulder in appreciation, “Thank you, though, for looking after me.”

“Course. I better go. I don’t want you getting roped into anything else tonight,” he said with a sad smile and you nodded in understanding, “We probably won’t see each other for a while but I’ll write. Is Astra back from Cecilia's yet?” Celillia is the witch you’d gotten Astra from in the first place, the pair of you had kept in touch and she’d recently offered to try and teach you some basic divination skills, she claimed that, “Being a wizard isn’t exactly a requirement” and you desperately needed something, anything, to make you feel more connected to your friends in the wizarding world. You supposed you’d need to plan a trip to her cottage soon, after tonight you definitely needed some of her wisdom.

“No, not yet. She flew straight there from the burrow so I suppose she’s probably resting,” you informed him distantly, still clutching his hand, “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

Harry squeezed your shoulder and let out a deep breath, “I’ll try my best. Promise,” with that he lifted his hand from your shoulder and extended his pinky to you, you gladly linked it with your own. Harry noted, very gratefully, that the warmth had now returned to your hands and you’d stopped shaking so violently.

“Send me a letter once Astra gets back, alright? I’ll keep you updated on what’s going on over on my side.” You agreed before walking Harry to the door, hugging him tightly and watching as he approached the Dursley’s front door.

As predicted, Harry, George, Hermione and Cecillia had let you know that the wizarding world was crumbling fast. Admittedly you were worried about your wizard friends, but Cecillia had done a great job of keeping you distracted by keeping you buried under heaps of divination books, tarot cards and crystal guidebooks. As it turns out, though, you had quite the talent for making accurate detailed predictions.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were descended from a powerful seer,” she’d written to you in awe after you’d managed to predict exactly how a date of hers would go without missing a single detail.

Reading tarot cards quickly became one of your favourite hobbies to indulge in when you weren’t in school. You’d made the mistake of telling George about it in a recent letter, Harry already knew and he also knew that there was no point telling you that he didn’t have a heap of faith in divination. George however was having a field day with the new information.

The older boy teased you at every chance he got, but it was all in good fun as in every letter he sent, you’d find a page that he’d ripped out of his own divination book, the pages would be crinkled and have messy notes scribbled along the margins, with explanations over words that he knew you wouldn’t understand as a muggle. They were actually really helpful. Aside from all the teasing he found it quite endearing that you were trying to get familiar with some form of magic. Even if it was a form of magic wizards tended to ridicule.

He’d been quite worried about you, Harry told him about the dementors and how you’d been quite shaken up after your encounter with them. He’d written to you on a weekly basis, constantly checking in on you, making absolutely sure that no more dementors paid you a visit. He and Harry both kept you up to date with the constant and seemingly never ending rules being imposed upon them by their new headmaster, or headmistress; Delores Umbridge. George also disclosed to you all about his and Fred’s plan to leave Hogwarts and pursue their lifelong dream of opening a joke shop. You had nothing but faith in the twins, really. Your complete faith in them hadn’t stopped you from sending George a handful of crystals that you believed would help his and his shop’s success. He’d teased you relentlessly in each letter since he’d received your package containing citrine, tiger’s eye, amazonite, aventurine and smokey quartz. What he hadn’t mentioned since receiving your little gifts, is that he’d been carrying the five crystals around in their little orange mesh drawstring bag in his pocket everywhere he went. He had to give credit where credit is due and, to be fair to you and your holistic ways, he hadn’t run into any serious obstacles since he started carrying the gems around.

November through June had brought forth a plethora of unfortunate events. You were practically swimming in school work which left you with no time to write to Harry, or even practice tarot. As well as that, you’d been having nightmares, although Cecillia had warned that these dreams could hold some sort of prophesies within them, you highly doubted that though, you weren’t a wizard, only a muggle. Whether prophetic or not, the nightmares plagued you, keeping you up at night or waking you at all hours of the morning.

On one particular morning, you’d awoken with a gasp. Sweat coated your face, soaked your pillow cases and caused your legs to stick to your blankets in a way not even the June heat could've caused. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, tears welled in your eyes, and your body shook as violently as it had the night you’d come face to face with the dementors of Azkaban. The unadulterated fear coursing through your bloodstream suggested that perhaps this bad dream had been something more than simply that.

As fast as you could manage in your panicked state, you dragged your body out of bed and stumbled towards your light switch, flicking it on before haphazardly ripping a sheet out of the refill pad on your desk, grabbing a pen and beginning to scribble down the dream that you could only describe as a warning.

Your laboured breaths stirred Astra from her slumber, the tawny hooted tiredly, hopping out of her cage and fluttering over to your shoulder, settling there as you wrote.

Harry,

I hope this letter reaches you in time. I might sound completely mad but something terrible may be about to happen. I’ve been having these horrific dreams over the last few months, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry but Cecillia suspects they’re premonitions and I’m terrified she may be right. I’ve just woken up, it’s around 2am and if I’m lucky, Astra should get this letter to you before 6am…

Onto the dream, you were there and you were asleep, I was standing by your bed, it was a four-poster sort of thing, the room was decorated in mostly red and gold. You woke up panicked, you looked completely overwhelmed and you began shouting about your Godfather Sirius, about how he was in trouble… From then on I watched the day play out. You, Hermoine, Ron, Ginny, a boy with brown hair I’ve never met, I think you called him Neville in my dream, and a blonde girl- Luna I think you called her, you all went to the ministry to rescue Sirius and find some kind of prophecy. Harry you have to listen to me, you mustn’t go, it’s a trick, Voldemort planted it in your head and if you go you’ll only put Sirius in harm’s way. But, knowing you, you’re gonna go anyway… so here’s my advice: keep your eyes open for the witch Bellatrix. Keep Sirius away from the veil and please please please, be careful.

I’m heading to Cecillia’s cottage for the day and maybe even the next couple of days, send Astra there when you find time to write back.

I hope I’m wrong but if I’m not; good luck, Harry. I love you and if you don’t look after yourself the dark lord will be the least of your worries.

Lots of love,

Y/n.

Folding up the letter and placing it in a stray envelope, you addressed it and gently tied it to your loyal owl’s leg. “I’m gonna need you to go as fast as you can to get this to Harry, okay Astra?” She hooted with what you guessed to be determination before she set off, out into the night. Thankfully for you, now that your owl was occupied, you knew Cecillia owned a telephone so you’d have no problems contacting her. While writing to Harry, you’d left out a few details about the dream. You conveniently forget to mention that you’d watched his only remaining family member killed at the hand’s of Bellatrix, it had looked so terrifyingly real that your mind couldn’t have possibly conjured it up all by itself. You also failed to mention hearing Harry’s agonising scream as Sirius fell, the noise was nearly deafening. Seeing Sirius, a man you’d only seen in pictures, die and watching your best friend mourn for him was, well, traumatising. There was no way you’d get a wink of sleep for the remainder of the night, so, you quietly tiptoed downstairs and made a call.

The line rang three times before Cecillia’s voice sounded, chirpy as ever despite the late hour, “Hello?”

“Sorry to call so late,” was all you managed, your voice although shaky was immediately identified by the much older witch.

You could nearly see the soft smile on her youthful face as she spoke, “Ah, Y/n my darling, no worries at all! How is my favourite student doing at half two in the morning?”

“Not well, I’ve had another vision. I think you might’ve been right about the dreams being prophetic,” you told her, willing your voice not to crack as the image of your bad dreams crept into your mind once again.

Cecillia let out a gentle hum, “Shall I apparate over? You don’t sound in the highest of spirits, darling.”

“Yes please,” you answered simply and within seconds Cecillia was standing before you, a worried furrow in her brow and her ashy brown hair disheveled from apparating to you in such a hurry. How could she not? You were, after all, her protégé.

“Oh, darling. You look terribly shaken up, come, come, let’s get you some water,” she fretted, guiding you to your kitchen, magically flicking on the light with her wand and filling up a glass of water, with a few flicks of her wrist the glass had floated over to your usual seat at the table, meanwhile Cecillia had stirred you into the wooden chair adjacent the glass.

Wordlessly, the witch peeled your damp hair away from your face and secured it back with a crocodile clip shaped like a huge golden bumble bee, it’s wings adorned with glittering gems. The bee sat comfortably in your hair as Cecillia finally sat down beside you, she made herself comfortable on the kitchen chair, crossing one leg over the other, resting her elbow on the table and using it to prop her cheek up. Her wide green eyes stared at you sympathetically, watching intently as you sipped your water.

“I’m assuming your loyal familiar is sleeping soundly?” She wondered, referring to Astra. You shook your head, simultaneously swallowing a gulp of water before responding verbally.

“I sent her with a letter to Harry, it was more of a warning really,” Cecillia nodded her head, signalling you to go on, “I dreamt of Harry and his friends going to the Ministry of Magic to rescue Sirius Black, but it was a trap. When they got there they were ambushed by dark wizards and Sirius well he…” you trailed off, eyes growing distant and unfocused when the sight of the man being murdered reentered your mind’s eye. A gentle hand on your shoulder pulled you back to the present.

“This one was far worse than the others then?”

You nodded, “It didn’t feel like a dream, cecillia. It was like I was actually standing there but I couldn’t do anything to help though… as per usual,” you muttered bitterly, receiving a harsh squeeze to your shoulder in response.

Cecillia fixed you with a maternal glare, “None of that! You potentially saved a life tonight. And, as I effortlessly predicted since the moment I met you, you’ve got the magical gift of sight,” her hard look melted into something more forgiving as she spoke, “You’re much more than just a muggle. You may have been an extremely late bloomer, but, you’re a witch and a seer at that. A peculiar case indeed, although in the wizarding world stranger things have happened,” the old witch told you proudly, eyes shining with glee as your own filled with confusion.

“How do we know the dream will even come true?” You questioned.

Cecillia simply shrugged and offered you a cheeky grin, “I trust your feelings, darling.”

True to your initial feeling, you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, you knew you wouldn’t be able to rest until you found out whether or not your dream had come to fruition. Cecillia remained by your side throughout the night, eventually the sun had risen and your parents descended down the stairs, neither of them were surprised to see Cecillia sitting at the kitchen table. They saw her as an odd woman, very kind and perfectly lovely, but odd. You’d told them that she owned an animal sanctuary and that you’d been volunteering with her, it wasn’t too far fetched really, she had given you an owl after all, not to mention the amount of cats that hung around her cottage.

She explained to your parents that she needed your help at ‘the sanctuary’ for the next few days and that she’d drop you home once the work was finished. It hadn’t been a problem, so you traveled to Cecillia’s cottage after getting dressed and packing an overnight bag (full to the brim with tarot decks and only some clothes).

It was nearly 8 in the evening when Cecillia sauntered into her living room, where you were sitting, sporting a knowing grin, she held a piece of parchment in one hand and an unopened envelope in the other.

Jovially, she plopped herself down beside you, obviously doing her very best to contain a huge grin from forming on her face. Wordlessly, she placed the envelope on your lap with a mere, “For you.”

On the envelope you could tell by the handwriting that it had come from Harry. This was definitely a make or break moment for you. The contents of this letter would either confirm that you did in fact have magic, or, they would be responsible for causing you to experience a seismic amount of embarrassment. Swallowing the lump in your throat you tore the envelope open, freeing the letter and daring to read what was inside.

Dear Y/n,

Your dream was right. And that advice you gave about keeping an eye on Sirius? It saved his life. I suppose I’m mostly writing to say thank you. I’ve got some updates for you too: firstly, it’s finally been confirmed that Voldemort is back so my name is cleared. Secondly, it turns out that Remus and Cecillia are old friends, she contacted him earlier today about your vision and he and Sirius haven’t shut up about how impressive it is. I have a feeling you might be hearing from them soon, The Order now more than ever is in need of a secret weapon and genuine seers are hard to come by. I hate to involve you in this, it’ll probably be dangerous and you know I don’t want to see you hurt, or worse. But having said that, I’m glad we’re in this together now.

Astra got here in good time, by the way, she landed on my window just after I woke up from my vision of Sirius, it was actually quite freaky. I’m taking good care of her so don’t worry, she should be back to you at some point tomorrow.

Hermoine and Ron say hi too. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from George soon, seeing as he and Fred are in the Order… On that note I better get going.

Thank you again for the warning.

See you soon,

Love, Harry.

A bemused smile spread across your lips as you scanned the page, thankful to have finally made a significant difference in Harry’s life. Cecillia was grinning like a cheshire cat beside you, pride shimmering in her emerald eyes. She bumped her arm against yours playfully when you let the letter fall to your lap, “An old friend of mine will be stopping by in a short while. It seems he’d like to get you trained up in some defence against the dark arts.” She told you, still grinning.

“Defence against the dark arts?” You wondered out loud, you were sure you’d heard Harry mention those words to you before, however, the memories were fuzzy.

“Magic to keep you safe from darker magic, the likes of which the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters rely,” she explained darkly. Just then, a loud bang erupted from her open stone fireplace, a bubble of green dissipated as two men stepped less than gracefully onto Cecillia’s faux-fur rug. You recognised them both from your vision. They were Sirius Black and, if you were to take an educated guess, Remus Lupin.

Cecillia wasted no time before she was giddily jumping from her seat to greet the pair who had just appeared in her sitting room.

“Remus! Oh, how wonderful to see you!” She all but squealed, pulling the tall man into a hug and ruffling his already messy hair.

He reciprocated the hug with a gentle chuckle, “It’s nice to see you again, Cece. It’s been far too long,” he pulled away and the pair of them shared a fond smile before simultaneously looking to Sirius. “I trust you remember Sirius?” Lupin asked, almost rhetorically.

Sirius let out a booming laugh at that, “She could never forget me, now could you, Cece?” Cecillia rolled her eyes, and with a look of endearment nearly tackled Sirius into an embrace.

Seeing the woman who was essentially your magical mentor so overjoyed was lovely, Cecillia was jolly at the best of times but you’d never seen her quite like this. Her happiness added to your sense of helpfulness, Sirius Black was obviously important to more than just Harry, if the smile on the free-spirited witches face was anything to go by. Although you were ecstatic for the three witches and wizards before you, you couldn’t help but feel like you were imposing on an intimate reunion.

Awkwardly you cleared your throat, successfully bringing the trio’s attention onto you as you stood by the sofa, smiling unsurely. If it was even possible, all three of their smiles broadened when their gazes landed on you.

“Am I right in assuming that this is my guardian angel?” Sirius asked, separating from Cecillia.

Cecillia nodded, filled with pride, “And isn’t she just the loveliest guardian angel you’ve ever seen?” She gushed, half seriously.

You offered Sirius a bashful smile, along with a nod of greeting, “I’m glad to see you’re alright,” you told him.

His grin stayed fixed in place but he raised a single eyebrow in confusion, “Glad? And yet you’ve never met me before now…” his tone was laced with inquisition, as if he wanted to figure out what ulterior motive you could possibly have for caring about a stranger you’d only ever seen in a dream.

It didn’t take a seer or a psychic to see what Sirius was after, so you simply answered him truthfully, “No, we’ve never met, but you’re still a person, I watched that woman kill you, it was horrible, nobody deserves that. As well as that; I know how much you mean to Harry and what sort of best friend would I be if I didn’t try to help him keep his last family member safe?” Sirius nodded approvingly at your reply, looking between Remus and Cecillia.

“She remind you of anyone?” The black haired man asked in a low chuckle, Remus snickered and Cecillia bit back a grin.

The witch made her way back to your side and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, jostling you ever so slightly when she noticed your vaguely worried expression, “Don’t worry, darling, you just remind us of one of our most treasured school friends, I promise I will tell you all about it later. But for now, I believe Sirius was about to thank you for saving his life?” She prompted, waiting expectantly.

Sirius cleared his throat and straightened his posture before outstretching his arm, offering you his hand which you took firmly in your own. His voice was steady, strong and genuine when he spoke, “I am truly thankful for what you did for not only me but Harry today. I’m extremely proud of my godson for aligning himself with such a strong, powerful and wonderfully loyal young lady.”

“How sweet,” Cecillia cooed, before guiding you to the kitchen, “Come now, boys, kettles on- we have a lot to discuss!” She called over her shoulder.

There certainly had been a lot to discuss. The Order of the Phoenix thought having a seer at their disposal would be extremely beneficial in the upcoming war, the issue was; you are not yet of age and some members of the group didn’t wish to involve a child in their battle. Sirius, Remus and Cecillia made it abundantly clear that if you desired to join the Order, you were more than welcome but you would be welcomed under certain conditions. Those conditions being that your membership be kept under wraps and not disclosed to any muggles, meaning your parents.

“To keep them safe and to give you an escape route if things get too messy, even with the level of magic you’ll have gained by the time the war is in full swing, as a muggle born you’ll most likely need to flee quickly,” Remus explained, though it didn’t make much sense.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to run if my parents knew what we were running from? They’re open minded people, I’m sure they’d understand,” you attempted to reason, the trio but exchanged yet another loaded look with each other.

Cecillia placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, “We have a contingency plan in place, darling. Nothing you need to worry about for right now,” she reassured, easing your nerves a tad. “You trust me don’t you?” She followed up, her tone slightly stonier, more serious. You nodded your head certainly in response, there was no doubt about it; you trusted the witch with your life. “Then,” she began again, a somewhat chastising look on her face, “Trust that I will not allow a single hair on your head to be harmed.” This rule also extended to wizards not in the Order, which meant that when in the magical world, you were to air on the side of extreme caution.

Relating to that, another condition was that, at all times in the magical world, you were to be accompanied by an of age member of the Order. According to Sirius, who your were growing to like more by the second, he was going to arrange for a member of the Order to bring you to Diagon Alley in the morning to get you a wand. The prospect of having a wand of your own was terribly exciting, once again though, you found yourself wondering if you had it in you to properly wield one, or wield one at all for that matter. You were too exhausted to fret for too long, so the thoughts about magic levels and your own capabilities were only fleeting. Once all of the serious chat dissipated into friendly chatter, you managed to slip away from the table at which you were all sat. Making your way back to the sitting room, you tucked yourself into the corner seat of Cecillia’s old and very comfortable sofa, pulled your knees against your chest, wrapped your arms around them and rested your cheek against your knee. Slowly and deeply, you began to breathe in and out, fiddling with the amazonite bracelet that adorned your wrist in order to quell your ever growing anxiety. For a few sweet minutes you indulged in the calm silence, meditating peacefully in your comfy seat until a soft knock sounded from the doorway. When your eyes fluttered open they were met with the image of Sirius Black, leaning casually against the frame of the door, a hand plunged deep into his trouser pocket and another flipping a stray tarot card between his fingers. His eyes were focused on yours as he spoke, “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

You shook your head and patted the seat beside you, “‘Course not, come sit.”

The man chuckled but obliged, settling in the spot beside you and offering you the card he’d previously been fiddling with.

“The ten of swords,” you identified easily, “I assume you’ve been feeling quite overwhelmed if this card found its way to you.”

Sirius hummed, “CeCe tells me that you’ve a penchant for card reading. I was rubbish at divination back at Hogwarts, only took it because I thought it’d be easy but I could never get my head around it,” he reminisced, an airy laugh slipping from his lips.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who were you all talking about earlier when you asked if I reminded Cecilia and Remus of anyone?” He let out a deep sigh before fixing you with a soft smile.

“An old school friend of ours, she was more than a friend to me, but that’s a story for another time,” he started, staring out into the empty space before him a melancholy grin on his lips, “She was fiercely loyal to her friends, if she wanted to help there was absolutely nothing that would stop her from doing so. I know I don’t know you very well, but from what I heard today and the way in which you’ve been described to me by Harry; I can see her in you,” he finished, bumping his shoulder with yours and forcing a happy smile onto your lips which mirrored Sirius’.

“What’s her name?” You asked.

“Her name was Marlene,” Sirius answered.

Your heart dropped with his use of past tense, “Was?”

Sirius bowed his head slightly and began to twist the rings that adorned his slender fingers, “She was killed during the first war,” he told you, making eye contact once again, a grave expression on his face as he continued, “I saw your apprehension earlier when we brought up the topic of secrecy, but you must understand that during the first war we lost so many who were dear to us, keeping you in our back pocket will ensure that you aren’t harmed in the face of this war, if any dark wizards hear so much of a whisper of a muggleborn seer they will stop at nothing to eliminate you,” he paused for a brief second, never breaking eye contact, the gravity of the situation heavy on your chest your fingers absentmindedly found your amazonite bracelet once again. Your movements were halted when Sirius placed his large hand over yours, squeezing it warmly while staring at you determinedly, “You saved my life today, Y/n. So believe me when I tell you that I will stop at nothing to keep you safe,” he promised and you squeezed his hand in return.

“I know,” he smiled as he watched your eyes return to the ten of swords and your grin broadened with the sort of mischief he’d only ever seen in four people; James Potter, Marlene McKinnon and Fred and George Weasley. “I have a prediction for you.”

Sirius entertained you fondly, a mischievous air that reminded him of when he was your age surrounding the pair of you, “By all means, do tell.”

“I predict,” you paused for emphasis, “that we are going to be very good friends.”

Sirius let out a booming laugh of which the volume he couldn’t control, “That is a prediction I truly hope will come to fruition.”

“Oh no, this is a duo that spells trouble,” Cecillia giggled to Remus as they entered the sitting room.

Remus looked between you and Sirius with a grin, “With a mentor like you, Cece, I’m not surprised Y/n has a taste for mischief,” the ruffled wizard teased, receiving a gentle elbow to the ribs from your mentor.

“Oi, if you’re going to blame my beloved girl’s mischief on anyone you better blame it on a certain Weasley twin,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows and causing the boys to smile giddily like teenagers.

Sirius bumped your shoulder again, this time with a faux-scandalised smile, “A Weasley twin, eh? Come on then, which one?” You blushed heavily and cleared your throat in an attempt to alleviate the embarrassment filling your being.

“He’s just a friend!”

“Mhm. A friend that sends her annotated pages from his divination text book,” Cecillia sang and Sirius snickered.

“Whichever one it is must be quite taken with you if you made him actually crack open a textbook.”

“Annotations are quite intimate,” Remus half teased although you could see he believed what he’d just said, “I bet it’s George,” he directed the bet at Sirius who carefully observed the way you bit your lip and bashfully looked towards the wooden floor.

“I think you’re right, moony. Now!” He stood suddenly and pointed a finger at Remus expectantly, “We best get going and arrange Y/n’s accomplice for tomorrow’s field trip,” he wiggled his eyebrows before turning his head to face you again, he shot you a wink and you couldn’t stop the airy laugh that left your mouth at his lighthearted antics.

Remus gave Cecillia a one armed hug, “we’ll be seeing you both tomorrow then, it was lovely to meet you, Y/n, perhaps next time Sirius will allow me to get a word in,” he chuckled and Sirius responded by throwing his arm around your shoulder.

“I better get off, this husband of mine is growing jealous,” he told you in a teasingly hushed whisper.

Your eyes widened and you looked between the two men, “You two are married?”

A love struck smile took over both of their faces which immediately gave you your answer. “We’re engaged,” Sirius clarified before pulling you into a proper hug, “Get a good night's sleep, we’ll be sending an order member to collect you early tomorrow morning so you can be in and out of Olivander’s before a crowd can build,” he told you while giving you an affectionate squeeze, you could’ve laughed when you realised that it felt like you’d known Sirius forever but you also could’ve cried when you relived the image of him losing his life and realised that just because it was over and prevented didn't mean it hadn’t still transpired in your mind’s eye, you didn’t let that show on your face though.

“I’ll make sure I’m well rested,” you promised.

With that, Sirius bid Cecillia goodbye, and he and Remus left the way they’d came.

The rest of the night had been spent with Cecillia telling you story after story about her school days and the trouble she’d caused with Sirius, Remus, James and Lily Potter, Harry’s parents, and another boy who she only referred to as “the rat”. Though the tone of the stories were completely lighthearted, they weighed on your chest with a sense of such tragedy. A huge majority of their friends were killed young because of the war, a war that was now waging once again. It led you to wonder who’d be lost to this one, if perhaps you’d be on the list of names that Harry or Cecillia or George would speak about fondly with a dense undertone of sorrow in the years after the second war had long since been won. It was a risk you were willing to take though, the notion of fighting for a deserving cause filled you with a sense of purpose, a purpose you’d been searching for for years. More than that, you felt important. You were needed. An asset. You would actually be of some help.

True to your word, you’d been getting a good night’s rest. The bed in Cecillia’s spare room was the comfiest thing you’d ever come across, though, as you began to stir from your deep slumber you couldn’t recall the empty side of the double bed being quite so dipped.

Slowly and begrudgingly, you cracked your eyes open to see Cecillia smiling tiredly at you in the light of dawn, “Morning, darling. Sorry about the early start, I’ve made you some tea,” she greeted quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the early morning. She held two ceramic mugs, one in each hand and passed you the steaming cup that was hand painted green, keeping the brown one for herself. Tiredly, you patted the spot beside you and pulled the quilt to the side, inviting the witch into the warm bed. She happily slid in, pulling the quilt over her and chuckling quietly when you dropped your head onto her robed shoulder and began to sip the tea she’d made. Cecillia rested her head against yours and sipped on her own tea.

“Are you excited for today?” She asked and you hummed.

“I’m having mixed emotions,” you stated, “I’m excited to see everything, but I’m sort of nervous that I won’t have enough magic to even get a wand,” Comfort spread through your chest when Cecillia pressed her lips to the crown of your head.

“The wonderful thing about wands, lovely, is that the wand picks the wizard,” she began, “so whatever wand you end up with will accentuate the level of magic inside you. Its power will grow as yours does and you’ll soon come to realise that you couldn’t imagine wielding anything else,” her voice was wistful and her eyes shined with wonder as she recalled how it felt to bond to a wand.

“What do you think mine will be like?” You wondered, excitement awakening in you thanks to Cecillia’s encouraging words.

The witch took an exaggerated slurp of her tea before answering, “Something curious,” was all she said.

“Insightful,” you murmured and she shrugged unapologetically, her chaotic energy exuding now that she’d started to wake up fully. “What time is it anyway?”

“Half six, your chaperone should be arriving at seven and Olivander’s opens at eight,” she told you before shimmying out of bed, you whined in the absence of your head rest. “You better get dressed. Wear something nice, rumour has it that your tag along is quite the eligible bachelor,” she wiggled her eyebrows and all but floated out of the spare room. It was practically your room by now though, over the years since you’d gotten Astra and met Cecillia you’d stayed in the room on countless occasions. Cecillia embodied something that was something between a second mother, a spiritual mentor, a teasing older sister and a slightly kooky aunt.

“Oh? So do you reckon I should brush my hair then?” You jokingly called out after her only to receive a harsh scoff.

“Absolutely not! Don’t be desperate!” You barked out a laugh at her response, shaking your head and getting ready for the day ahead.

You were just about finished getting ready when a familiar bang sounded from the sitting room. Taking a deep breath, you gave yourself one last look over in the mirror, happy with the outfit you’d chosen, you made your way towards the sitting room to come face to face with your surprise chaperone for the day.

When you shuffled into the sitting room, a smile immediately stretched across your lips upon seeing who had been appointed to stick by your side for the day, “George!” His name left your mouth in a squeal that would’ve been embarrassing had you not been so excited to see him. It’d been upwards of a year since the last time you’d seen George in the flesh and although you’d seen each other in photos and written to each other at a rate that was almost excessive, the prospect of spending time together in person was, for lack of a better word; magical.

George drew his attention away from the framed pictures that lined Cecillia’s fireplace to see you standing in the doorway, looking as bright as the newly risen sun and sporting a smile that he couldn’t quite put into words how it made him feel. It only took a second before his own cheek splitting smile grew on his face, and with it left his hopes of impressing you with his cool and collected attitude. You hadn’t given him too much time to dwell on his ruined cool guy facade as you all but threw yourself into his arms. The red head let out an endearing laugh, catching you in his toned arms, wrapping them tightly around your torso. A scarlet blush rising on his ears when he felt your smile against his neck. “Hello to you too,” he chuckled against your ear and you pulled back enough to look at him, your arms still secure around his shoulders.

“Sorry,” you started, the smile that still adorned your lips telling him that you weren’t all that sorry at all, “Hi,” you greeted, bashfully pulling your arms away from him.

The sitting room was quiet for a moment as the pair of you only stared at each other, would it be too much to tell him that you’ve missed him? You didn’t want to come on too strong after such a long time apart, you’d already tackled him into a hug within the first five seconds, but with that came your next internal question of; did you really want to keep this boy on his toes?

George, having already discarded his notion of acting nonchalant with you, bet you to the punch. He rubbed the back of his neck and flicked his gaze to the floor before bringing it back to you, “I’ve missed you.”

A giggle left your lips before you could think about choking it down, you nodded your head, bouncing slightly on the balls of your feet, “Yeah, I’ve missed you too. Sorry I haven’t written, Astra is still with Harry.”

George gave you a grin, “No worries, darling. Heard you’ve been a very busy little psychic lately.”

Darling, you mused internally, the nickname echoing through your head and causing your heart to somersault in a way you’d never really felt before.

“Oh how sweet,” Cecillia sang from the doorway, a wicked grin on her face as she took in the two hopeless blushing messes, staring doe-eyed at each other in the middle of her living room. “I hate to break up the reunion, my dears, but the pair of you really should get going,” she instructed, strutting up to you and holding a cloth pouch in your direction, “Sirius left you some spending money, it’s different than the money you usually use but I’m sure George will have no problem helping you out,” Cecillia shot the boy a wink and he nodded, once again growing bashful.

“Now,” she grew serious, directing her words at George and making him slightly intimidated with her strong eye contact, “You are to be extremely careful. You are not to mention that Y/n is a seer and you are not to draw any attention to the fact that she is a muggleborn, if Mr. Olivander asks, she’s a half-blood who's been living in the states and that’s why she doesn’t have a wand,” you wore a confused expression, George nodded in complete understanding, “Did Sirius give you the list?”

George nodded once again, pulling a folded piece of parchment out of the back pocket of his slightly baggy denim jeans, “May I take a look?” Cecillia asked, already snatching the parchment from George’s long fingers and unfolding the sheet and reading it aloud, “Alright! A wand… seriously? He used a whole page of parchment just to write one thing?” She grumbled, stomping over to the nearest side table, leaning down and began to scribble on the parchment. You looked to George as she wrote, “Why do you have to say I’m from the States?” You asked quietly and George leaned down slightly to be closer to your ear.

“Witches and wizards in America don’t get wands until they’re of age, we get them here when we’re eleven,” just as he was finished offering his explanation, Cecillia walked back over, a hard look on her face that you weren’t used to seeing, though it seemed that the look was reserved for George.

Silently she handed him the parchment before looking to you, hard look dissolving back into her usual playful expression, “Have fun, lovely.” She then turned to George again, apparently having had enough of trying to intimidate the poor boy, she shot him a smile, “You’ll be taking the floo to Diagon Alley, my fireplace is big enough to take the both of you at once,” she handed George a pouch of what looked like green powder, “George knows what to do, now, not to sound like a broken record but do stay safe and have fun,” she finished, ushering the pair of you into her fireplace. You couldn’t lie, it was quite strange, you supposed you should get used to things coming across as strange, you were about to be exposed to the magical wizarding world for the first time after all. In the fireplace, you stood shoulder to shoulder with George, noticing the nervous look on your face, he slid his hand into yours gently. When you looked at him, he kept his face focused on his feet, “Ready, Y/n?” Taking a deep breath you nodded shakily.

“Ready, George.”

At your words, George slammed the green powder onto the ground and shouted, “Diagon Alley!”

You were sure you were going to be sick. Whatever the powder was, it had you spinning at a pace you didn’t know was possible, you had screwed your eyes shut and you were almost certain that you could feel yourself physically moving. It was only when George tugged on your hand that you opened your eyes to see that your surroundings had actually changed. “It’s horrible the first time, but you get used to it,” George said, pulling you by your still intertwined hands onto the cobbled street. The dizziness died down after only a few seconds out in the fresh air, the added sensation of George’s thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hand seemed to do the trick in settling you completely as you took in the street ahead of you. It was dazzling, really. A long cobbled street, lined with shops that looked like they were plucked straight out of a fairytale. As planned, the streets were fairly empty in the early morning as George led you down the path towards the shop where you’d hopefully get your wand. The name “Olivanders” was written above both windows of the dark shop, the words “makers of fine wands since 382 B.C.” were to be seen just above the door. Excitement had completely overridden your nerves and you practically skipped towards the door, George followed casually behind you, his hands tucked into his pockets and a fond smile on his lips.

“I suppose you’re excited then?” He asked teasingly and you didn’t bother trying to hide your obvious childlike wonder as you waited for him to catch up with you.

“It probably seems silly to you, but this morning Cecillia told me all about when she got her wand and it sounded so wonderful,” you told him, smiling when he bumped his shoulder against yours.

“I don’t think it’s silly, I still get giddy thinking about the time Fred and I got wands of our own,” he pushed the door open and motioned for you to step inside, slowly you walked into the empty shop. It was dark and somewhat dingy but there was something very mystically inclining about it, you could feel the energy and it was utterly exhilarating.

“Wow,” you breathed out, spinning where you stood, gazing at the boxes upon boxes that lined the shelves.

Only a minute passed before an old man stumbled to the front of the shop, smiling at the pair of you from behind the counter, “Ah, Mr. Weasley, it’s good to see you, it’s been some time. What can I do for you this morning? I see you’ve brought a friend,” the older wizard greeted and you smiled in response.

“I’m looking for a wand. I’ve been living in the states for the past few years but I just moved home,” you lied easily, George couldn’t help but smirk, what he’d give to have had you around for some of his and Fred’s pranks at Hogwarts.

The old man nodded in understanding, his eyes scanned you, his eyes were scrutinising and you fought the urge to squirm under his gaze, “Interesting. One moment please,” he said, murmuring to himself as he searched the isles for what he was looking for. A small “aha” sounded from within the isles, he was back in front of you within seconds, an open rectangular box in his hand. It was absolutely gorgeous, it resembled a raw tree branch, wood spiralling up its expanse until it stopped at the top, cutting off in a jagged, dull edge. He must’ve noticed how your jaw dropped, how could he not? He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off you since you’d wandered into his shop. He was an old wizard, but he wasn’t naive, he was well aware you weren’t returning from America, he could sense an energy in you that he hadn’t come in contact with in a long time. “Curious, isn’t it?” He prompted you, causing you to let out an airy laugh. Cecillia was going to tease you big time when you got back to her cabin.

“It’s lovely, what is it?” He offered you the box expectantly and you hesitantly picked up the wand with as much care as you possibly could. It was cool against your skin and was heavier than you’d imagined it would be.

“Thirteen inch, oak; cut from the base of a tree, which at the time, was almost six hundred years old,” he explained, watching happily as you ran your fingers along the wands several ridges,”With a phoenix feather core, quite a rare piece indeed. Unfortunately, this particular wand has been extremely difficult to match to a witch. But something tells me that you might be just the witch for the job,” he held your gaze and you once again got the feeling that he knew something he shouldn’t, “Go on, then. Give it a wave,” he prompted and you looked to George for further encouragement. George laughed at your lost expression, pulling his own wand out and pointing it towards the now empty box on the counter, “Like this, love,” he demonstrated, moving his wrist in a semi-circle motion, making the box levitate off the counter.

Another pet name. You ignored the butterflies in your stomach in favour of clearing your throat, squaring your shoulders and pointing your wand at the same box George had just made float, which was now settled back against the counter. Imitating the boy beside you, you moved your wrist in a swift semi-circle. Suddenly, a golden light poured from the tip of the wand and warm air surrounded you, gently blowing your hair back and forcing a laugh of disbelief to leave your lips. George stood wide eyed beside you, his lips parted slightly. He was amazed really, he went through five wands before he found the one that fit him, yet you’d found yours on the first try, and he had to admit; you looked glorious doing it.

After paying for your wand, you exited the shop, looking around George’s side at the list he was holding. From what you could make out, Cecillia had added a number of items to the originally very short list; 1) a wand, 2) a pendulum (crystal of the ladies choice), 3) crystals: labradorite, lapis lazuli & azurite, 4) mugwort, 5) new tarot deck (again, whatever she wants Sirius can afford it ;)).

“Suppose our next stop is the divination shop,” George said, mostly to himself but gave you a mischievous smile, “If we hurry up and get our shopping done fast we could probably get a butterbeer in before we rejoin the rest of the Order,” he sang, grazing his hand against yours as you walked side by side.

“Beer? You seriously want to drink beer at half eight in the morning?” You asked him, your eyebrow raised and he replied with an exaggerated roll of his eyes and draped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close against his side and once again leaning his head down so his lips were level with your eye.

“No, you git,” he began with a laugh, “It’s not really beer, it’s pretty sweet; most wizards love it.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, “Sounds nice,” you told him absently, preoccupied with all the intriguing shops that surrounded you. George’s arm remained wrapped around your shoulder as you strolled further into Diagon Alley, seemingly uninterested in his offer for a butterbeer. The pair of you got what you needed from the shop and, since it hadn’t taken long, you decided to take George up on his drinks offer. You noticed that he seemed a little bit crestfallen since your noncommittal answer earlier.

“Hey,” you said, bumping your arm against his.

“Hello,” he replied, returning the gesture.

“So… d’you wanna go get one of those beer things that you were talking about earlier?” You asked nervously, your lip between your teeth. For all you knew, asking someone to grab a butterbeer in the wizarding world was the muggle equivalent to proposing.

George flashed you a grin that was almost childlike, it was mesmerising, so sweet and pure and you almost wished you’d brought your camera to take a picture of it. “I thought you’d never ask.”

With a giggle you let him grab your hand and lead you excitedly towards a building that had “The Leaky Cauldron” written above the door. When you got inside, George led you to a small round table with two chairs and you both sat down opposite each other. As casually as you could, you rested your elbow against the table and let your cheek rest against your fist, for a solid few minutes, while George ordered, you curiously looked around the pub until your gaze finally rested on George who was already looking at you with a soft smile, “Having fun?” He asked, genuinely curious.

You nodded your head, “Mhm, are you? I’m sure getting up at the crack of dawn to take me shopping isn’t something someone like you would usually like to do for fun,” you said, becoming slightly self conscious when you realised that he probably wasn’t enjoying the morning as much as you were. This was all normal for him, you’d nearly forgotten.

George gave you a perplexed look, “Course I’m having fun, love. But, what do you mean someone like me?”

You shrugged, once again pushing down the butterflies that arose in your stomach from the pet name, “I dunno, you’re just- you’re mischievous and fun and… I don’t know, shopping for stuff with me doesn’t seem like it’s something you’d want to do. I just hope Sirius didn’t force you into it,” you admitted shyly, smiling gratefully at the waiter when he placed the mugs of golden liquid on the table.

George chewed on his bottom lip for a second before he shook his head, “He didn’t force me. I sort of, well, I sort of forced him to let me take you. He wanted Professor Lupin to do it but I…” he let out an exaggerated sigh before giving you a smile, “I wanted to spend time with you,” he confessed sweetly, watching happily as a smile formed on your lips and you tried to hide it in the rim of your butterbeer. He laughed when your face lit up once the liquid hit your lips, “Like it?”

“This stuff is amazing,” you almost shouted, taking another large sip from the drink, “No wonder you all love it so much.”

George snickered, “Just in case it wasn’t clear; I’m having a lot of fun with you,” he said all too casually, taking a sip of his drink.

“Where to now?” You wondered, after you’d finished your drinks and set off back towards the floo network.

George shot you a cheeky look and wiggled his eyebrows, “I’m taking you back to headquarters.”

“Sounds ominous,” you commented, following him into the fireplace, nervously.

“D’you want a tip?” George asked out of the blue and you looked up at him expectantly, nodding. “The dizziness isn’t as bad if you keep your eyes open,” he whispered, taking your hand once again and throwing down the same green powder from earlier and shouting a new location that you hadn’t heard before. You cringed as the world began to spin, listening to George’s advice hadn’t helped much as the transportation was just as awful as it had been the first time. Unbeknownst to you, you were squeezing George’s hand like your life depended on it, George’s thumb had resumed brushing circles around your hand in response, the harsh squeezing didn’t bother him at all, not when it was you doing the squeezing. Just like earlier, George led you out of the fireplace and into the unfamiliar sitting room. Though the room was completely unfamiliar it was full of faces you immediately recognised, one face in particular standing out above all the rest.

In a second you’d dropped not only George’s hand, but all of your shopping bags to the floor carelessly and hurled yourself towards the boy who had already begun rushing towards you the second he caught sight of you appearing in the fireplace. Your bodies collided with so much force that you nearly sent each other tumbling to the ground, laughter sounded from both of you as you swayed the other, almost roughly, the way you always did when reuniting after an extended period of time.

“Glad to see you in one piece, Harry,” you told him with a cheeky smile on your lips, opting not to call him Haz in front of all of his wizard friends lest they tease him, not to mention you’d become quite possessive of the nickname, you wouldn’t be too pleased if anyone else started adopting it. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud.

“Yeah, you too,” his smile was as wide as could be when he shook his head, “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“Do you want me to pinch you?” You teased, jokingly taking his cheek between your thumb and your pointer, giving the skin between them a gentle squeeze. Harry swatted your hand away with a low chuckle and unraveled his arms from around you.

“Alright, you two, if you’re ready we have some matters we need to discuss with our newest member,” Sirius’ voice sounded from behind you, a knowing look on his face as he watched Harry sneakily pinch your arm in retaliation. He had to fight the urge he felt to reminisce on his old school days; when he’d purposely annoy James, Remus or Peter and receive the exact same mockingly vengeful look that you’d just given Harry.

“I’ll bring your things to the kitchen,” George announced, reminding you of his presence before he walked rather quickly out of the room, bags clutched in his hands.

Harry snorted out a laugh when Sirius followed George out of the room, leaving the both of you alone. Harry wiggled his eyebrows and did his best to make his voice take on a sultry tone, “he’s bringing your things to the kitchen.”

“Shut your mouth, Potter,” you replied, pinching his cheek for the second time and tossing your arm around his shoulder, him doing the same as he led you to what you assumed was the kitchen.

“Do I have your permission to open my mouth to tell you something,” Harry asked lightly, stopping so you were both standing outside a closed wooden door.

“I’ll allow it,” you answered, smiling softly at your best friend.

Harry grinned, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Haz,” the boy groaned at the name but made no further comment, he pushed the wooden door open and walked inside.

The room held a long table where many adults were sat, chatting in hushed whispers when you entered the room, some of whom you recognised and some you didn’t. Mrs. Weasley was fluttering about the table, filling people’s tea cups before she spotted you. The woman, who you’d only ever met briefly at King’s Cross station one year, rushed over to you and greeted you warmly, “Hello, dear! Come, come sit down!” She ushered you to a vacant chair beside George and across from Fred, Harry took the seat on your other side. “I trust you got everything you needed from Diagon Alley? I hope that son of mine didn’t cause any trouble for you,” you gave her a friendly smile and shook your head.

“Yes, we were able to find what we needed and George was very helpful,” Mrs. Weasley, seemingly satisfied with your answer, offered a gentle smile to you and George. She then pushed a cup of tea towards you before sitting down herself.

Beneath the table George bumped his knee lightly against yours, but didn’t break from his conversation with his twin as he left his knee pressed against yours. You didn’t draw attention to it either, simply letting your knee relax against his as the witches and wizards at the long table grew quiet in favour of staring at you wordlessly.

“I’m sure you’ve all heard the news of the seer we’ve acquired,” Sirius’ commanding voice broke the silence as he stood up from his chair, and placed his palms against the table, “I’ve brought her here today so that we may discuss proceedings to ensure her safety.”

“Yes,” a toneless drawl, drawn out nasally from the end of the table drew your attention to a black haired man at the opposite end of the table, “and what of Mr. Potter’s presence?” He asked, almost menacingly. Right off the bat, you didn’t like the greasy haired man. He was rigid and his face sported a permanent snarl and from across the table you could already tell; he wasn’t on your side.

“She’s my best friend, I’m here to make sure she’s not going to be put in any unnecessary danger,” Harry told the man shortly, in a tone that he’d more than likely perfected after having spoken to the man previously.

“As touching as that may be,” the older man snarled, “you are not a member of the Order.”

“Oh, enough, Serverus,” Sirius scoffed, pulling his hand down his face in exasperation before he let his eyes settle on Harry, “Perhaps you should wait upstairs for now. We’ll let you know of any significant updates.”

“I’ll tell you everything later, promise,” you whispered quietly, linking his pinky with yours beneath the table before he stropily took his leave.

“As I was saying,” Sirius spared Severus a glare and continued, “As we know, Yn is an unregistered wizard with an unregistered wand, meaning she won’t be on the radar of The Ministry of Magic. On the downside of this, seeing as her power manifested late, she is also untrained.”

All gazes fell to you once more, only Remus’ eyes were staring softly, crinkled at the edges from the smile on his lips, “I’ll be tutoring her in Defence Against the Dark Arts over the summer. She’ll catch up quickly, no doubt,” you smiled gratefully at him from your spot, relaxing a bit knowing that you’d actually be learning how to defend yourself the wizard way.

“I suppose I will be tasked with teaching the art of Occlumency? A seer with an easily accessible mind is hardly an asset,” Severus drawled. You didn’t have a clue what occlumency was, in all honesty, but you kept your mouth shut in favour of asking Remus when the meeting was over.

The meeting soon drew to a close, the older Order members slinking to one end of the table to arrange the schedule for your glorified summer school while you, Fred and George snuck away to find Harry. You found him sitting against the headboard of a bed in one of the upstairs bedrooms, “How’d it go?”

“Take a guess, mate, Snape had a right sour look on his face the whole time,” Fred answered, sitting on the bed across from Harry’s. George sat beside him and you made your way to sit with Harry.

“Ah, so that was the infamous professor Snape?” All three boys nodded, looks of exhaustion on their faces, “I don’t trust him. Something is very off about him,” you spoke thoughtfully and the boys nodded in agreement once again.

“I don’t like the idea of you being alone with him,” George said, his brows furrowed.

Fred snorted and clapped his twin roughly on the shoulder, “Getting a bit jealous are you, Georgie?” Harry laughed along with Fred while you blushed lightly and George felt heat rising up the nape of his neck.

“Sod off,” he muttered, but made no attempt to deny that he was slightly jealous of all the alone time his old evil potions professor would be getting with the girl he was harbouring feelings for.

The afternoon quickly turned into the evening and before long you were gathering your things and preparing to return to Cecillia’s. Harry would be heading back to the Dursley’s later that night, much to his dismay. You told him you’d be back on Privet Drive at some point the next morning since Cecillia would be dropping you home, as she promised your parents, so he wouldn’t have to suffer alone for too long.

That summer came and went in a bit of a blur. Two days in each week were spent learning how to protect yourself against the dark arts with Remus. He’s an amazing teacher, that couldn’t be disputed. In the space of only two months he had you duelling like you’d been doing it since the day you were born. Of course, you were thrilled to be bonding with your wand and developing (according to Remus) a very impressive skill for Defence Against the Dark Arts. But, on top of that, the shared conversations and exchanging of stories over hefty mugs of hot chocolate with the werewolf had been a huge highlight of your summer, and had caused the two of you to grow exponentially closer.

September was nearing and with it came a stiff breeze that prompted the hair on your arms to stand alert as you waited by the bus stop, the one just down the road from your house. Today was to be an important lesson with Remus, he hadn’t told you what the lesson would entail, but he had said that it was a charm that was “of the utmost importance”.

Although June, July and August were technically your summer holidays, you’d barely had a second to rest. You were, at this point, running on fumes and sheer will power. Extensively using magic was bound to wear you out, however, getting a good night’s rest after a gruelling training session had become something of a luxury for you. Visions of the future and retellings of past torments plagued your dreams and allowed you no time to rest. One vision in particular had been reoccurring, it arrived every night for the past two weeks, taunting you. The autumn chill that dripped down your spine reminded you of the premonition, having your hairs standing due to fright, rather than cold. It was always the same, no details ever shifted or warped and, unfortunately, the experience never grew any less harrowing. The warning that the vision brought about weighed on you heavily and followed you around like a stray cat. Images of a cold, desolate, blue-hued cellar lived behind your eyes, the phantom feeling of freezing metal shackles weighed on your wrists painfully and the undiluted terror combined with the indescribable agony brought about by the unfamiliar wand shoved against your throat had you forcing yourself to stay awake until you physically couldn’t anymore, each and every night. Nobody knew about the vision, you didn’t want to worry them, though, you knew that your distress was beginning to become visible; dark bags were prominent beneath your eyes, Harry had watched you fall asleep in the middle of the day, often on his shoulder, almost everyday that week and Remus could tell by the sluggish movements of your wand that your mind was elsewhere.

A few minutes passed before your bus arrived, the journey to Grimmauld Place was quite long but you couldn’t seem to warm up to floo travel, so going on a regular bus was the better option. When the red double decker pulled up, you greeted the driver with a smile and paid for your ticket. You made your way up to the second story and sat right at the front. The bus, as it normally tended to be, was empty. Resting your head against the window, you let your eyes slip shut, the noises of tree branches brushing against the speeding windows lulling you into a, hopefully, peaceful sleep.

Thankfully when you woke up, no visions lingered. You woke up just in time too as the bus was rounding up to your stop. As usual, Remus waited for you at the bus stop, his hands shoved deep in his tattered jacket pockets and a gentle smile on his lips.

Still groggy from your nap, when you exited the bus you greeted Remus with a tired wave.

“Dare I say you haven’t been sleeping well, dear?” He said gently, walking alongside you towards the house.

You thought about it for a second, perhaps telling someone wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world. “I’ve just, well, I’ve been having this nightmare,” you started, growing nervous just thinking about it.

“Nightmare or vision?” He pressed as you walked into the house.

Guilt creeped into your chest upon seeing the clear worry on his face, “I think it’s a vision.”

Remus nodded quietly, placing his hand on the small of your back and pushing you in the direction of the living room. He gave you a warm smile, when you sat down on the sofa. He grabbed a blanket that hung over the back of the sofa and draped it over your lap. “I’ll make us some hot chocolate and we can discuss this,” he suggested.

“I thought you had an important lesson for today?” He only shook his head, smiling lightly.

He made his way to the door wordlessly and returned within two minutes with two big, steaming mugs in his hands. Remus handed you a mug and sat down beside you on the sofa, accepting your invitation to pull the blanket over his lap too.

“Now tell me; what has been going on in that wonderful mind of yours?”

You took in a deep breath, staring into the hot chocolate and avoiding his understanding gaze, “It happened for the first time around two weeks ago. I thought that it was just a dream, it didn’t feel like a dream but I thought that if I kept telling myself it was I would start to believe it,” you started, taking a sip of your drink before going back to staring at it, “But it kept coming back. Every night for the last two weeks. I haven’t been able to sleep, I’ve been too scared to,” your voice was small as you made the confession. You hated that the feeling of helplessness was beginning to wash over you yet again.

“What happens in this vision?” At his question, you placed your cup on the floor and turned to face him fully, turning on the sofa and pulling your knees up to your chest.

“It’s always the same. I wake up and the first thing I know is that I’m absolutely freezing. I’m in this cellar-like thing. I’m chained up by my wrists and my feet are barely touching the ground… I can’t see anyone but I can feel-“ your breath hitched and you rushed the swipe the tears that were falling away from your cheeks, “I can feel a wand against my throat, it’s pressing hard. There’s a whisper, it’s quiet and ghostly and I can barely make it out but I hear them say; crucio.”

Remus’ eyes widened in horror.

“Then I feel nothing but agonising pain and then I wake up,” Remus’ eyebrows furrowed.

“You’ve had this same vision every night?” You nodded.

“I know I should have said something but I didn’t want anyone to worry,” it was then that Remus grabbed your hands and looked at you with a sense of urgency you didn’t know he could possess.

“I need you to listen to me very carefully,” his eyes were wild and his hands shook lightly as they held yours, “You-Know-Who is back. There are already reports of certain Wizards going missing and none of us have any doubt that it’s his doing. And although I- we- care for you a great deal, it would serve us all well to remember that you’re a detrimental piece in this war. If he catches wind of you, he’ll stop at nothing to take you from us,” your heart was now running at the speed of a hummingbird. “We have a plan in place to keep you safe, I fear we may have to implement it sooner than planned.”

Before you knew it, you were surrounded by the entire Order of the Phoenix, all of whom looked grave. Cecillia sat to your right while Nymphadora Tonks occupied the seat to your left. You had the pink haired auror to thank for your duelling capabilities, as well as Remus of course. Her presence was comforting, she made it a point to shoot you a wink every time she caught your eyes looking more fearful than usual.

“Our original plan will need to be tweaked, I ran into Narcissa Malfoy in Diagon Alley and she very plainly insinuated that I was a person of interest in the death eating community,” Cecillia informed the table, a, for lack of a better word, bitchy tone laced in her voice. She’d told you many of her Hogwarts stories, you could recall her telling you that she and the woman she’d mentioned, Narcissa, had once been good friends until around their fourth year. She hadn’t told you what exactly had happened, only that it had been messy.

“What was the original plan?” You asked, growing frustrated with the Order’s lack of communication skills.

Thankfully, being one of the younger members of the group, Tonks understood your frustrations and spoke up on behalf of the group, regardless of whether they were ready for you to know or not; she understood that it was your life they were coordinating.

“We talked about relocating you to CeCe’s. We also, and far more pressingly, planned on erasing all traces of you from both the muggle and wizard world. Which would mean using a memory charm on your family and friends in the muggle world,” Tonks explained, eyes locked on yours while everyone else in the room glared daggers at the purple haired girl.

“Yes. Though we also planned on telling you this information with a far more delicate approach,” Snapped Molly Weasley from the end of the table, causing Fred, who sat to her left, to roll his eyes.

“She’s been riddled with visions of being ruthlessly tortured with an unforgivable curse for the past two weeks. I think the time for delicacy is long passed,” the older of the two twins practically scoffed. George nodded in agreement.

“Besides,” he set his gaze on you, eyes genuine and unwavering as he spoke, “she’s strong enough to handle the truth. It’s time you all stopped acting like she isn’t.”

The table fell silent. His words hung in the air as many of the adults hung their heads.

“By memory charm I’m assuming you mean obliviate?” You broke the silence, if you could you hoped to start an open conversation with the experienced witches and wizards that surrounded you.

“Yes. They’re completely reversible and once the war is over I’ll restore all of the memories.” Cecillia said.

“We know it’s a huge ask, dear, but it’s our best chance at keeping you out of that wretched creature’s hands,” Molly attempted to soothe both you and herself when she pictured what it would like to be in your shoes, how she’d feel if she had no other choice but to be forgotten by the thing she valued the most; her family. Molly Weasley had never been very good at hiding her maternal instincts, over the summer that fact had become glaringly obvious to you. You and Harry had laughed about how the children of Privet Drive had a special place in her heart.

“I understand,” you told her sadly, chewing on the inside of your lip, “I’m guessing by the atmosphere in the room that I won’t be home to say goodbye before you wipe their memories,” you shifted yours eyes from person to person, stopping when Cecillia took your hand firmly in hers.

Her lips were downturned and her eyes filled with guilt, she shook her head mournfully, “I’m afraid we can’t risk it, my darling. Even being here places you in danger at the moment.”

“Where will she go then? If CeCe’s place isn’t an option we’ll have to find a safe house,” Sirius sounded and, simultaneously, both Fred and George stood up, shoulder to shoulder with very professional expressions on their faces.

“We may be able to help with that, actually. George, if you would,” Fred started, nodding to his twin who straightened his shoulders and puffed his chest out over so slightly.

“Thank you, Fred. As you know, we have a property for Weasley Wizard Wheezes secured and we’ll be living in the flat above where the shop will be,” everyone at the table, including yourself, stared at the twins in confusion, not quite sure where they were going with their little pitch until Fred took over again.

“And that flat has three bedrooms,” he said, a smirk growing on his thin lips.

George spoke again, “Which means there’s one for me and one for Fred.”

“Which means there’s one spare,” Fred grinned wickedly.

Tonks let out an impressed laugh once the penny finally dropped, “We apparate her in and nobody would ever know a thing. Nobody other than those of us in the room know that Y/n is a friend of the Weasley’s, plus us visiting the joke shop wouldn’t raise any suspicion. I have to give it to them, it’s a great idea,”

“And one of the two of us will always be within shouting distance if anything happens,” George added, somewhat pleadingly.

Sirius looked across the table at you, “Y/n, it’s up to you. Whatever you decide will be final, we won’t interfere,” he promised sincerely. It was an easy decision, but still, it weighed heavily on your chest. In all honesty, you weren’t worried about your location, staying with the twins would surely be a light and fun time amidst all the doom and gloom. Your worry was that you would, once again, be handing over your control. Sirius dressed it up as though it was your choice, but you knew that this was probably their best option and in reality you really had no other choice than to move in with Fred and George.

“Sounds good to me,” you whispered halfheartedly, eyes dropping to stare at your lap as your teeth pulled anxiously at the skin of your lips.

“So it’s settled then,” Remus said, “Y/n will go with Fred and George tonight.”

Abruptly, you pushed your chair away from the table and stood up. Sparing nobody a glance, you left the room as quickly as you possibly could, before the lump in your throat could choke you or the tears that pooled in your eyes spilled like water through a broken dam. George made a move to rise from his seat only for Remus to stop him by placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder, “Give her a moment.”

You found yourself locked in the second story bathroom, sitting in the bath. Your legs hung out over the side of the tub while your head was tilted back against the black tiled wall. As hard as you tried to prevent them, tears were streaming down the expense of your cheeks, neck and beneath the neckline of your shirt. The minutes ticked by yet your chest continued to rise and fall rapidly due to the sobs that shook it, your breath uneven. Visions of brutal torture were bad enough when you were in your own home, in your own warm bed, with your parents just a room away and ready to make you a hot cup of tea after you woke up screaming. Now, the visions would without a doubt continue to plague you, unlike before though, you wouldn’t be waking up in a familiar setting, nor would you fall asleep in the comfort of your own mattress, when you woke up screaming so loud that your throat grew raw, your comfort would rely on two seventeen year old boys who seldom took things seriously. It’s not that you didn’t trust them, no, you trusted them with your life- you are trusting them with your life, it’s just that there was already a lot going on in your mind at the moment, moving in with your crush and his identical twin brother isn’t exactly your idea of a nerve killer.

A knock against the bathroom door pulled you from your thoughts. You rushed to wipe your tears with your sleeves, sniffling, “Come in,” you choked out. Cursing your voice for breaking when you spoke.

Remus’ head poked through the door, his body following soon after. Even in an atmosphere as dense as this one, a sense of gentle calm always followed Remus wherever he went. Clumsily, the werewolf slid into the bath beside you with a low “oof” sound, mimicking your position with his much longer legs dangling closer to the wooden floor than your own.

“CeCe has gone to collect your things for you and get Harry, then, I believe, perform the spell,” he eyed you cautiously, hyper aware of your glassy eyes and puffy face. When your eyes widened and you whipped your face towards him, his stomach twisted into knots, he hated seeing you like this. He could sympathise with your feelings. When James and Lily were killed, and Sirius went to Azkaban and even when Peter was presumed dead, Remus had been left with a vicious frustration fuelled by his belief that he was utterly powerless in his own life. He could see in your eyes that that same notion was starting to creep up on you too.

“Already?” You gasped out, pulse rising again, a slight panic setting in. “It won’t hurt them will it? The spell?” You fretted, looking pleadingly to the man beside you.

He shook his head, tenderly taking your hand and placing it against his clothed chest, his beating heart present against the palm of your shaking hand. “I promise you that they won’t feel a thing. They will go on living an exciting life, travelling, seeing the world safely while you’re away. When this is all over we’ll place their memories of you back in their minds and it will be as though you were never gone.” Your teeth found the inside of your cheek again, gnawing relentlessly at the skin as you failed miserably to hold back a fresh set of tears. Remus squeezed the hand he held against his chest. “Let it out, Y/n. It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone,” he whispered, heart sinking lower when your bottom lip quivered and you let a rasped sob leave your body. With a deep sigh, Remus used the hand he was already holding as leverage to pull you into him, wasting no time he enveloped you in his arms, holding you securely as you cried against his chest. Admittedly, it felt good to let it out, Remus’ hand rubbed soothing circles against your heaving back and eventually, you didn’t know how long it had been, you calmed down, your tear ducts all dried out.

Remus held you in his arms for a while longer, even though you’d stopped crying, he could feel your body as it continued to shake. “I can’t promise you it will all be okay, but I can assure you that myself and Sirius, and everyone else for that matter, will be there for you at the drop of a hat; whatever you need,” he spoke against your hair.

“Whatever I need?” You echoed, the pit in your stomach ever growing.

“Of course,” he confirmed.

Remus startled slightly when you suddenly tore yourself away from him. As best you could in your awkward position, you turned to face him and grabbed his hands with as much urgency as he had done with yours. “I need you to do something for me,” Remus furrowed his brows in confusion, but nodded his head anyway.

“If anything happens to me… Don’t make them remember,” you instructed, maybe the request would’ve seemed radical if you had said it to anyone else, but you knew that Remus had experienced losses like no one else you knew, perhaps Harry came close but even his shortcomings couldn’t compare to Remus’. “It’d only cause them pain. If I die and they’re happily living none the wiser, leave them be, please,” the man let out a heavy sigh and took a moment to take you in. Your eyes were hard yet pleading, they left him no room to negotiate and he understood perfectly where you were coming from.

“Alright,” he agreed before raising his eyebrow and readjusting himself to get a better look at you, “However you should know; no matter what may come of this war, none of us will forget about you. In such a short time you’ve given us so much… you gave Harry his first friendship, a friendship that he cherishes more than anything in the world, I might add. You saved Sirius from death, my fiancé and Harry’s godfather. Mentoring you has given Cecillia a new lease of life and Molly Weasley one more child to knit jumpers for at Christmas,” he took a brief pause then went on, “For the sake of saving time I won’t even begin to tell you what you mean to the twins. My point is;” there was a melancholic type of smile on his face when he paused again, as if he was imagining what it would be like to remember you fondly if you did in fact die for the cause, “What you’re asking is incredibly selfless. And while your mother and father may not remember how wonderful you are, we all will.” Remus chuckled lowly when you shuffled your way back into his arms, squeezing his middle tightly. He slung his arm around your shoulders and delicately pressed his lips to the top of your head. You held so much love in your heart for the man who was currently cradling you in his arms. You debated telling him, you weren’t sure if it was entirely appropriate but after the speech he’d just given you couldn’t have cared less, “Remus?”

“Hm?”

“I love you,” you murmured, looking up at him innocently.

He offered you a toothy smile and breathed out a soft laugh, “I love you too.” With a content nod, you rested your head back against his chest, enjoying his soothing heartbeats against your ear. A melodic hum rumbled against your cheek, a quiet giggle left your mouth when you recognised the melody to the song he was humming. The tune of “Rhiannon” by Fleetwood Mac floated through the bathroom bringing a genuine smile to your lips. The werewolf’s humming was interrupted by another knock against the bathroom door, whoever was knocking didn’t wait for a response before entering the room. Sirius stepped in and quietly shut the door behind him. He didn’t question you and Remus' position in the bath but simply slid into the tub on the other side of you, sandwiching you between himself and Remus. The black haired man let out a heavy sigh and leaned his head back against the tiles.

“The mother hens downstairs are worrying up a storm,” he said in exasperation, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tonks so riled up about someone’s safety. I tasked Molly with making you some hot chocolate to keep her occupied”

“Maybe I should go back down…” you muttered halfheartedly, begrudgingly peeling yourself away from Remus’ warm body.

Sirius gave you an apologetic look, “I held them off for as long as I could.”

“Thanks,” you whispered, bumping your shoulder to his, making him chuckle. After pulling yourself out of the bath, rather clumsily, you took a second to check yourself over in the mirror.

“You’re glowing, darling,” Sirius all but sang from behind you and you couldn’t stop the slight snort that escaped you.

“That’s one way to put it.”

“If you don’t believe me go on downstairs and ask George what he thinks,” Sirius teased, wiggling his eyebrows and receiving a light shove from his fiancé who couldn’t hide his grin.

“Leave her alone, love,” he chastised weakly, “You look perfectly fine, Y/n. Go downstairs and get something to drink, you need to rehydrate.” A bittersweet smile broke out on your lips, his fatherly tone simultaneously soothed you and left you yearning for what you were in the process of losing. Trying not to dwell on the sad fact, you left the bathroom and slowly descended the stairs.

As you assumed, the second you stepped back into the kitchen, Molly began to fret over you as if her life depended on it. Sipping on the hot chocolate she’d given you, you were reminded of how desperately tired you were. All the crying hadn’t helped ease the heaviness in your eyes either. Every bone in your body felt heavy for that matter, you were struggling to even hold your head up.

“You can lean against my shoulder if you’d like,” George’s voice broke you from your hazed state, you’d completely forgotten he was sitting beside you despite his leg that was pressed against yours beneath the table. You gave him a sleepy but grateful smile, as subtly as you could you scooched closer to the ginger and slotted yourself against his side, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. “Will you keep me awake until Harry and Cecillia get here?” You requested in a slurred murmur, your eyes fluttering between open and shut.

“Of course,” was all he said, he looked down at you adoringly, smiling like an idiot when you nuzzled into his shoulder, your nose rubbing against his neck. Try as he might, George couldn’t pull his eyes away from your drowsy face. “What do you propose we do?”

You shrugged your shoulders lightly, “Just talk.”

“How would you like your new room decorated?” He asked quietly, his head tilted down while he spoke to you, so you could hear him and so he wouldn’t ruin the lulled bubble you’d managed to obtain between you by talking too loudly. A sweet smile grew on your face, a smile that all but knocked all the breath out of George’s lungs when you angled your head to make eye contact.

“Can I have a double bed?” George snorted at your question and shook his head no.

“Nothing smaller than a king. What else?”

You pretended to ponder for a moment, “Can we paint it?” The ginger nodded, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

“If you want to,” he started, almost sounding nervous, “We could paint it together?” Even in your sleep deprived state you hadn’t missed the vulnerability in his voice, it was the same vulnerability that you’d noticed when he’d asked you to go get a butterbeer with him a couple of months ago.

“I’d love that,” you told him, your answer causing his lips to twist into a pleased smile, “How do you feel about the colour green?”

Immediately, his smile dropped and he let out a disgusted scoff, “Green is a Slytherin colour.”

“You keep forgetting that I don’t get the whole house sorty thing,” you reminded him, not happy with his reasoning for hating your favourite colour. “Besides, I love green, it’s my favourite colour.” You told him truthfully. Not content with his disgruntled facial expression you began to defend your preference, “A lot of beautiful things are green; you’ve got grass, trees, emeralds- did you know that emeralds are really useful for enhancing psychic abilities? It also evokes clarity of thought,” you rambled, willing yourself to be quiet when you registered George’s fond expression.

The look of endearment aimed at you brought butterflies to life in your stomach, effectively waking you up somewhat.

“Do you have any emerald?” He asked, you assumed he was only feigning interest, you didn’t know that he could’ve listened to you go on and on about anything and everything for the rest of his life.

“No, not yet. I should probably get some though.” You said through a yawn. Your breath against his neck made him giggle, it was pure and unsuspecting but you took note of it. Everything about George Weasley felt like sunshine to you, his laugh filled your chest with warmth whenever you heard it, his eyes found yours like a lighthouse, guiding your lost mind back to the present each time your gazes connected. His voice, like his laugh, warmed you up when you were cold, giving you a reason to stay awake when you’d rather just slip away. In conjunction with the sun, even if you couldn’t physically see him, you never doubted that he was always there. As well as all of that, like your favourite tarot card; The Sun, he signified good things, hope that hard times will end with you on top, contentment and happiness. While your thoughts consisted of George’s similarities to the sun, his were consumed with the, in his mind, overwhelmingly cheesily romantic notion that you were the moon and the stars, he would’ve cringed if he didn’t wholeheartedly believe it. Everything that made the night sky magnificent was reflected in you. Like the stars, you were mysterious and captivating. Nothing seemed to compare to your glow or beauty, if you were to ask him what he preferred; you or the night sky on a clear night, he’d happily ignore a blank, starless sky in favour of simply staring at you as you went on tangent after tangent about crystals or tarot cards.

The pair of you were pulled from your musings when Harry rushed through the kitchen door looking unmistakably heartbroken, ever the empath when it came to his best friend, Harry’s heart sank the moment he laid eyes on your form, limp against George’s side. The second you saw him you all but ripped yourself from George’s side and the older redhead felt a surge of irrational jealousy begin to build in his chest at how fast you left his hold in favour of the chosen one. He knew it was ridiculous, he’d heard the way each of you respectively talked about each other, at this point you were practically siblings. But he supposed it was rational to be jealous when you liked someone the way he liked you.

Quickly, you crossed the room to Harry who had his arms already outstretched. He knew you were emotionally exhausted when you didn’t bear hug him. You meekly slid your arms beneath his open zip-up hoodie, tucked your head beneath his chin and didn’t say a word. “I shouldn’t bother asking if you’re okay then,” Harry muttered to himself, leaning his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his lanky arms around your frame.

“Did Cecillia remember to bring Astra?” You asked, it was all you wanted to know about the night’s events.

“She’s in her cage in the living room, darling,” Cecilia said, walking into the room looking guilty.

“C’mon, let’s go have a chat,” Harry suggested, leading you out of the kitchen and upstairs to his unofficial room. Once inside the room you sat down on the edge of the bed, the blue duvet softly creasing beneath you. Harry plopped himself down beside you and offered you a gesture that was always saved for when either of you felt the other was on the edge of something dangerous. Your hands rested against your lap and he deftly slid his pinky over yours, intertwining your two littlest fingers. It was such a familiar experience; he’d done it when your grandparents died, when you’d cried over failed exams that you worked hard for, and in turn, you did it for him when he’d felt as though he had no place in the world, when he’d open up about his parents and when Cedric died and the ministry dragged his name through the mud you’d find your pinky tangled with his almost every night after he’d sneak over to your place after another nightmare or panic attack. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, “Not tonight. I don’t want to cry anymore,” you croaked out, looking straight ahead of you at the grey painted wall.

“I understand,” he said, sighing and dropping his head onto your shoulder, “Let’s talk about something else then.”

“Like what, Haz?”

Harry snorted out a chuckle, “Like the way George looked like he wanted to hex me when you left him to come to me,” he teased, a smug lilt to his voice.

“He wasn’t teasing me, perhaps I’ll go back to him,” you grumbled, ignoring Harry’s childish giggles.

“Yeah you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You smacked his arm lightly with your free hand, doing a bad job of containing giggles of your own. “Don’t worry, since he’s going to be your new roommate there will be plenty of time for “oh George I’m so sleepy, please hold me until I fall asleep”,” you let out a cackle at Harry’s terrible impression of your voice, laying your cheek against his wild hair.

“That is so not what was going on, Haz,” you defended with a tiny smile.

Harry let out an airy, disbelieving chuckle, “Then what was going on?”

“He just said I could lean on him until you and Cecillia arrived and we just started chatting about how I wanna decorate my room,” you explained truthfully and Harry nodded.

“Riveting,” he mumbled sarcastically. Despite his snarky comment, the boy removed his head from your shoulder and pulled you against his chest. “Jokes aside, I’m glad you’re staying with him, I know he’ll look after you for me,” you rolled your eyes at the sentiment.

“I don’t need to be looked after,” you reminded him, looking up at him with a chastising smile.

He rolled his eyes right back at you, jostling you slightly in his arms, “No. But you like to be.”

You threw your head back in laughter, “Yeah, I suppose I do.” You did. You quite like both doting on people and being doted on, you’d grown up in an affectionate family so it was no wonder really.

“It’s getting late. We should get you settled into your new home,” Harry announced, pulling himself and you up from the bed, “I wasn’t going to say anything but you look terrible. You need sleep.”

“Thank you, Harry. Just what every girl wants to hear before moving in with her crush,” you joked, gently hitting your hip against his.

The kitchen was quiet when you returned, it seemed everyone had grown tired from the dramatic events of the evening.

“Ready to go then?” Fred asked, his coat already on and a handful of your bags in his hands.

“As I’ll ever be I suppose.”

After saying goodbye to everyone you, Fred and George traveled to their apartment by floo, to your dismay. The apartment was bare as they’d only just moved in but you could see it had lots of potential for becoming a cozy home for the twins.

As your first night in your new residence began, your aching eyes and tired mind didn’t leave you with any time to dwell on current events, the second your head made contact with the pillow you were out like a light. A dreamless slumber welcomed you for a while until your peace was broken by the all too familiar nightmare.

The first thing you recognised was the burn coming from your wrists. Shackles adorned them and effectively held your hands high above your head, stretching them uncomfortably. Goosebumps painted the expanse of your arms and legs, due to the freezing temperature in the nondescript cellar. A feeling of hopelessness planted firmly in your chest, the feeling only hightening when the familiar echo of footsteps, heavy and loud, drifted from the corridor outside of your field of vision. You knew who was approaching, you’ve lived this before, and so, you held your lip between your teeth and squeezed your eyes shut. The face of the dark wizard who always brought about your intense suffering was, for the most part, completely fuzzy, unrecognisable, featureless and bone-chillingly terrifying. You’d learned over the last two weeks of having this vision that it was less harrowing if you closed your eyes.

“I’ll ask you once more,” The voice was distorted, like it was being heard through a weedy radio, ominously unplaceable, “Where is he?”

You held no control over your voice, as was the norm during visions, as you felt and heard yourself reply, “I’ll tell you once more; I’d sooner die then sell him to you.” You felt your teeth gritting and your jaw clenching while you spoke. Jaw only tightening when the pointed tip of the wizard’s wand stabbed unforgivingly against the column of your neck.

“And die you will, my dear. But not yet-“ your eyes sealed themselves shut and you did your best to shake yourself out of the vision before what you knew was coming took place, as usual, your attempts were fruitless, “-Crucio.” Just like that your body was consumed by pain, the likes of which you’d never imagined possible, until you couldn’t even register yourself screaming anymore.

You bolted upright, clutching at the sheets of your new bed. Laboured breaths left your mouth and you aimlessly gripped at your neck, where the wand had been pressed, and let the tears spill freely. Momentarily disoriented, you’d forgotten where you were. Deep, heavy bursts of air left your mouth as you hastily scurried out of bed and towards the door. Somewhat aimlessly, you gravitated to the door across the hall. A yellow hue seeped from under the frame into the otherwise dark hallway. Light flooded the hall once you managed to fumble the handle down and pull the door ajar, a discombobulated ginger greeting you with half lidded eyes, obviously having been dozing off before you disturbed his peace.

“Sorry,” you rasped once your peace of mind returned to you and you realised where you were. Despite knowing that you shouldn’t have been standing numbly in his doorway, your feet seemed to be rooted in place, you couldn’t have walked away if you wanted to.

“S’alright,” George called out to you softly, sitting up in his bed, his back against the headboard. “You can come in, you know.”

Shutting the door behind you, you nervously shuffled into the room, stopping when you reached the side of his bed. George’s eyes roamed your face and he took notice of your still somewhat panicked expression, he drew his covers to the side and patted the empty space by his side. Something that always intrigued you was people’s preferred side of the bed, some people gravitated towards the left while others were more biased towards the right, but George Weasley? He slept right in the middle. The twin slept with a huge number of pillows, to the point where it was almost laughable, many of which you could only guess he’d smuggled from the Burrow.

Far too wound up to save face, you slid into his bed and didn’t shy away when he guided you into his side and tucked you tenderly beneath his lean arm. His embrace offered a greatly appreciated warmth as the chill of the dank dungeon always lingered long after the vision itself was over.

“What’re you doing up so late?” You asked, your voice gravelly. As you spoke, George effortlessly shuffled your body and his down so that your backs were resting on the mattress and not the headboard. Your head found it’s home against George’s shoulder and your hair was being tentatively twirled between his fingers.

“It’s our first night actually sleeping here. I couldn’t get to sleep,” he explained, his voice low and laced with fatigue. “I’m not really used to having my own room. It’s strange not hearing Freddie snoring or breathing.”

“I get that,” you whispered, “it’s quite comforting knowing for certain that someone is there with you.”

George nodded then. His eyes were glued to your face and he hadn’t even registered his own thought process before his lips were pressing delicately against your forehead. Today had appeared to be the day for laying all your cards out on the table, yourself and George hadn’t danced around your feelings for each other half as much as you usually did when you’d be in each other’s presence. Neither of you had the energy anymore, besides, if today’s events proved anything it was that; things were getting seriously messy as the war built momentum and it was clear that time was something that could very well be running out.

“Yeah,” he regarded you carefully, a little grin growing on his lips, “It is.”

A comfortable silence overtook the room. George’s twirling of your hair never ceased, every now and then his fingers would ghost over your shoulder and you’d catch yourself smiling against the cotton of his shirt as your eyes grew tired enough that they were close to falling shut.

Just as you were working up the motivation to lift yourself up and trudge back to your own bed, George spoke, “You can sleep here if you want, with me,” there was that innocent vulnerability again. There was never an ulterior motive when it came to him, he did things purely for the sake of making others happy, if he felt he could make a difference he simply needed to. Especially when it came to you, he realised.

“You don’t mind?” You asked, daring to peek up at him.

“Course not. I could use some company anyway.” He reassured you, his lips returning to your forehead, only this time the action held far more intention. “You don’t snore do you, love?”

You snorted out a giggle, looking up at the ginger cheekily, mischief dripping from your little grin that forced George’s heart to stutter rather violently and he hoped you hadn’t noticed. “No. But I drool.”

George’s face contorted, his nose scrunching up adorably in disgust, “Do you really?”

“Suppose you’ll have to find out, won’t you?” You teased and he sighed deeply, his disgruntled expression melting into a soft, adoring smile.

“I should’ve expected this, I knew you couldn’t have been completely perfect,” he said, mockingly sorrowful.

You scoffed, pushing his chest lightly, “You’re doing a lot of sweet talking tonight, Mr. Weasley,” you told him and he shrugged innocently.

“Just wanted to see you smiling again, darling.”

“Yeah, well, you’re doing a good job,” you assured him, the bashful yet tired smile that stretched your lips as you gazed up at him proved that you meant what you’d just said. “I like it by the way, the sweet talking.”

At your words, a huge, shit eating smirk grew on the boy’s freckled face. He managed to rearrange your bodies so that you were still tucked under his arm but you were now facing each other at eye level. “I knew it,” he proclaimed cockily.

You raised a challenging eyebrow, biting back a smirk, “Oh did you?”

George nodded pridefully, “‘Course I did. You see, I’m a little bit psychic,” his words forced a booming laugh from your lips, your cheeks hurting from the smile he’d orchestrated.

You shook your head, smile never dulling as you let out a chastising whisper, “oh sod off.”

“I love your smile,” he said suddenly, his eyes widened in horror when he realised he’d uttered the words out loud. The world could’ve stopped in that moment and you wouldn’t have noticed, all you could take in was George’s face, his eyes searching yours for something.

Carefully, you slid from hand from his chest to his red, blushing face. You cupped his cheek gently, moving your thumb against his cheek bone, almost swooning where you lay when he nuzzled against your touch. Working up some Gryffindor courage, George mimicked your movement, removing his arm from around your shoulder and bringing his palm to rest against the curve of your jaw.

As you stared at each other, you weighed up the pros and cons of telling him that you were completely head over heels for him. Your decision, apparently taking far too long, was made for you when George tugged you impossibly closer to him.

“I wasn’t going to tell you… you’ve had so much going on I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he said, brown eyes boring into your soul.

“Tell me what?”

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for every possible outcome that may spring once the words on the tip of his tongue are spoken aloud, “That I love you.”

[guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom]

Rebirth and Rewrites

Peter Parker x bisexual!reader

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Peter Parker x black!reader

Peter Parker x villain!reader

Warning: Language, mentions of self harm, antidepressants, mentions of injuries, violence, anxiety attacks, depressing thoughts, mentions of parental neglect, self destructive behavior, mentions of weapons, mentions of bounty hunters, allusions of sex.

Word Count: 8.5k

Songs: dRuGz- Willow Smith, Money- Leikeli47, Only You (And You Alone)- The Platters, and Moonsickness- Penelope Scott.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve felt this. Feeling like you’re disconnected from your body that is. Like in the Edge of Seventeen when Nadine says she gets this feeling like she’s looking down on herself from outside her body and she hates what she sees. That’s sort of how it felt. But this? This felt entirely different like I was in the wrong body but retained my soul, it couldn't be explained. It requires no explanation really if you understand it then great and if you don’t you don’t. ”

A/N: Sorry this took so long school got too be a bit much things are kinda slow but now they’re starting to get interesting. 

Series Masterlist  Previous Part   Next Part 

The shampoo bottles flew wildly around the bathroom along with everything else that wasn’t bolted down. I tried my best to put everything back in place but the second I’d put one thing down another thing was moving back up towards the ceiling. 

“No, no. No stop!” I spoke as if the inanimate objects would listen to me and stop moving. 

Fuck. No stop. Please.

Everything was swirling in a tornado like fashion above my head. I ducked down into the bathtub and just waited because it had to stop at some point. Right?

“Y/N?” I heard Carmen call. I couldn’t bring myself to answer. I don’t think I’d have been able to speak if I tried. 

“Y/N open the door please” She asked softly followed by the sound of the doorknob rattling. 

I didn’t hear anything else for who knows how long could’ve been a second, 30 minutes, an hour I couldn’t tell. The door was slammed open. Startling me. Everything froze in the air for a few seconds before falling.

“Are you okay?” Carmen grabbing my shoulders. 

I nodded and shrugged her arms off me. Pushing myself up to stand on my legs. It was then and only then did I realize I was shaking.  

I opened my mouth to speak when there was a chime almost like the sound of a microwave. It felt like my eyes had zoomed out above my body. An aerial camera view. 

What I was experiencing was an out of body experience in the past. Like some Ebeneezer Scrooge type shit or a Raven Simone moment but backwards. 

I was shaking my hands flexing at my sides. Except for it wasn’t me me, it was another version of me passing off as another person that I could see full body.  

“Oh are you going to cry?” Heaven taunted. 

I watched as I blinked tears out my eyes. Anyone else would see this as a moment of weakness. However, I know I cried when I got really angry. And I mean really angry. Like rip your heart out, chew it up and spit it out angry. 

“Shut. Up.” I breathed looking down at my feet. 

“And what if I don’t you wanna snitch on me? Cry?” 

I knew the jist of what happened next. I was there when it actually happened. I beat her ass and got suspended. I just didn’t remember exactly how it happened or what exactly I did. 

The girl was still running her mouth but I wasn’t paying attention to that. I was watching her hands and her stance. That was something Wade taught me to watch someone’s body language, that way you could know when or if they were about to swing at you. 

 I threw a sharp right hook knocking Precious’s head into the locker. Right as Precious was about to go for my hair I was falling. 

The floor fell right from my feet and the scene that was once in front of me faded away. I wasn’t falling for long, my back slammed into the cold cement beneath me. 

“I thought you were supposed to be a good guy,” I laughed “Now you’re kicking me around for no reason at all?” Wait. I remember this. Why was it happening again? Why wasn’t it in the third person like the last? This was a core memory for me. My first encounter with Spidey. 

“You were stealing. It’s my job to stop crime,” 

I knew exactly what to do and say. I’d have to run over this like a practiced script. I pushed myself backwards with my hands. 

Oh yeah and who’s paying you to do that?

“No one, is I’m just a good person,” 

“Am I not a good person?” 

A cold sticky wet feeling engulfed my wrist. 

“You are a criminal and deserved to face the proper punishment,”

I rolled my eyes and grunted as I tried to pull my wrist out of whatever it was holding me to the ground. I used to think the webs actually came out of him which is disgusting. 

“Yeah, yeah sure can you hand me my bag so I can leave?” I teased.  

“Y/N!” A random voice called out. That wasn’t supposed to happen. 

“What was that?” Spiderman or Peter asked. I looked around trying to locate the voice. I heard my name called again before the only thing I could hear was a loud crack. 

I looked underneath me and the ground beneath my feet was split down the middle. I tried to pull my arm out of the webbing harder this time. The floor continued to split like a crack in a windshield before eventually consuming me and I was falling again.

As I was falling everything looked so beautiful. There were glowing orbs of light all around me. It was completely black except for the stars and orbs. 

It was then that realized I wasn’t falling anymore. It was the opposite. I was floating or stiled in place.

 I wanted to touch one of those bright spherical orbs I probably shouldn’t but I was going to do it anyway. I reached out towards it and my hand glided smoothly through the air. Or not air? This is space right? There’s no oxygen in space. Then how was I breathing?

My hands went straight through the orb leaving behind the same fire like ribbons from a few days ago and earlier today. The waves were fluid. They felt like nothing. Like a breeze maybe. Something that could possibly tickle if you endured enough of it. 

A large energy surge shot out the orb knocking me back. At least 100 feet once my arm was all the way through. It didn’t hurt though it was just strong. 

When I started moving back towards nothing in particular it felt like I was swimming. I began to laugh, I felt so free. 

 Multiple rings opened around me. I was circled with gold rings shooting off sparks. They looked like portals. To where I don’t know. There were some that looked like fiery pits of hell. Others were very colorful like a rave or rocky terrain. 

There was one that was calling me for some reason. Something told me to stop resisting the pull to stay where I was but I knew I couldn't. I pushed through the air. Well I guess I pulled myself towards it instead of pushed. I slid through like a knife through butter.

The first thing I felt was the coolness of the porcelain bathtub on my back. My head felt as if it was expanding inside my skull.  

I stepped in between all the shampoo bottles and hygiene products on the floor making my way out of the bathroom. I entered the living room not prepared to see Tony and Peter sitting there on the couch with some person I’d never seen. Who looked straight out of a Men in Black movie. 

“Oh shit.” I turned to Carmen grabbing her arm and dragging her down the hal l“What the fuck did you do?” 

“Where were you?” She answered my question with her own. Well two can play that game. And I believe I asked first. 

“What’d you do? Why'd you call them? Or if you didn't, why are they here? It was just a few bottles, I had it under control,” 

“I was freaking out that’s why! Where the hell were you?” 

“What are you talking about? I was in the bathroom. You saw me,” 

“You’ve been gone for 7 hours Y/N!” 

“What?” I shook my head. “No. What are you talking about?” 

“You’ve been gone for 7 hours and your eyes are glowing. What the hell is going on with you?” 

I pulled out my phone opening it to the camera app and my eyes were in fact glowing. I blinked very hard multiple times. Shaking my head until it cleared. What the fuck is happening.

I sent Peter, Tony, and the Agent J wannabe on their way with a few lies to clear the air. I’m sure Tony would want to play more of his mad scientist game on me but that’s a problem for another day. I was just going to read my book until I fell asleep. Last interaction I had with another human that day was Carmen patting my shoulder and saying “Welcome to the world of mutants, girl. Buckle up it’s a bumpy ride.” before walking away.  

I swear to whatever’s out there that I’m losing my mind. Like full on shave your head and move to New Mexico crazy. I’d open that can of worms later. 

“I don’t think I can love myself without sexualizing myself is that bad?” I asked, applying my lipgloss.

“I don’t necessarily think so, it’s common but if it gets out of hand, it can create lots of other problems,” MJ gave her input.

“Oh I definitely know all about the problems it can cause I just can’t stop, ” 

Carmen strolled into the bathroom. 

“Where’s the thing?” 

“What thing?”

“You know the,” She did a hand movement that I somehow understood. It wasn’t even remotely connected to what she was trying to convey either. 

“Oh! The face paint. It’s under the cabinet by Salem’s food bowls,” 

“What?” MJ questioned. “How did you get face paint from that?” 

I just shrugged. 

“I don’t know. We’re like connected or some shit,” 

I sat on the couch, Halloween playing on the TV but no one was paying attention. We were all on our phones. 

“Alright,” I sighed, pushing up from the couch. “I should be done at like 9 so that gives us like 11 to get there,” 

I promised my sisters I’d take them trick-or-treating. It’s been like this forever and I wasn’t going to back out now. Sapphire was actually dressed as Spiderman and for some reason I couldn’t tell if that made me wanna laugh or cry. Didn’t even know they made costumes for that guess that whole being sponsored by Tony thing was coming in clutch. 

I don’t know how it works anywhere else but in New York you gotta go trick-or-treating on the street. Everything is private property and you can’t just get buzzed in just for candy so you go in publicly owned places. 

“This is the last store for tonight, I gotta get back” I informed them.

Sapphire whined and I wrapped my arm around her pulling her into my side. 

“Cmon’ little superhero,” 

I stepped off to the side towards Aaliyah.

“For your sake I would not let her eat much candy if any tonight,” 

An half hour later and I was back at Carmen’s house. I really need to find somewhere else to stay. It's been too long here. 

After what felt like a million hours Harry finally showed up. 

“I’m driving,” I claimed moving towards the apartment door. 

“No you're not,” He stated.

“Oh really? Then why do I have the keys.” I lifted the keyring rattling it around. 

He let out an aspirated sigh. I could tell he wasn’t going to fight me on this. I'm sure he was just confused on how I even got them. 

Now there were two reasons I was driving. One because I had to make a detour and two I didn’t want to sit in Harry’s backseat because God knows what has happened back there. 

Back to the detour. It was Peter’s apartment complex. I'm surprised he agreed to come. had just brought it up to be polite. It was well known that parties weren’t really his scene. 

Harry held his hand out, palm facing up. There lied about seven bars. I’m honestly surprised he was sharing willingly. That was new. 

 Bri and Carmen as well as myself had no qualms about popping the xans. MJ didn't take any, just shook her head when offered, which I’m glad she’s too smart for drugs. So is Peter which is exactly why I pushed Harry’s hand away. Giving him a look daring him to even think about offering anything to him. 

Everyone had split up Carmen with MJ. Bri to honestly I don’t know where and Harry to I don’t think I want to know where. And Peter? He’s with me of course, couldn’t leave him by himself. 

“Where’s Ned I haven’t seen him in a while,” I decided to speak because I couldn’t stand the awkward silence in this bedroom I’d somehow backed myself into. 

“He said he’s been to one party this and that fits his quota for the year,” 

“Well I would’ve thought Liz’s thing met your quota too but here we are,” I could feel my brain slowing down and smiled slightly. Then I noticed how far away Peter was on the bed.

“You can get closer, I won’t bite,” I hummed. “Unless you want me to of course,” 

“What!?” He almost shouted.

“I’m kidding dude, calm down,” I laughed. The room fell into silence again save for the sound of the music vibrating throughout the house. I miss real house parties. But oh well this party where I wasn’t actually doing anything would have to do.  

“Just realized I never asked. What are you dressed as?”

“Han Solo,” He replied as if I was supposed to know who that was.

“Who?” I scrunched up my eyebrows. 

“You don’t know Han Solo?” 

I shook my head. I’m sure it looked a lot sloppier than I meant for it to be I just couldn’t really move my head

“From Star Wars?” He tried again.

“The only people I know from Star Wars are Princess Lelia, Luke Skywalker and that one robot motherfucker.”

It was hard not to smile as Peter rambled on about the Saga. I wasn’t really paying attention but he looked adorable. I was just staring at him and I’m sure if Harry or Carmen were here they’d tell me I looked like the embodiment of the heart eye emoji. It’s not like I liked him or anything he was just cute.  

That was until my burner vibrated against my lower leg. I used my arms to push myself up, excusing myself to take the call. 

“What’s up?” I asked. 

Wade’s voice boomed from the phone. 

“I know a guy that knows a guy who knows-“ He cut himself for the reason I could only assume was because of the crashing noise coming from inside the house. 

“Are you at a party?” 

“No,” I lied for no reason he wouldn’t care if I was.

“I’m not stupid just call me back when you’re not flirting with some fuckboy or high,” He choose to emphasize the last word. 

“I’m not high,” I’m not sure who exactly I was trying to convince. 

“You’re literally slurring right now. Don’t drink and drive kid,” 

“What?” I laughed at his attempt at a lecture or a safety tip whatever that was. 

“Don’t laugh, I'm trying to be a responsible adult. I think it’s about time.” 

I couldn’t remember when or how I got back inside but here I was surrounded by people with music bouncing off the wall fading in and out of consciousness and I had never felt more alone. It was kinda pathetic.

“I’ve never understood that calling people daddy shit it’s fucking weird-“ I cut my rambling off pushing my face against the car window enjoying its coolness. “English is the most unattractive language, like it’s so tame and dull and…” I trailed off letting my head fall back down as I lost control over my neck muscles for a second. 

“It’s just like- I just wanna be able to say-“ I sighed before starting up again “Vous avez l'air très attirant ce soir. Les choses que je te laisserais me faire,” 

I looked away and everyone besides MJ was looking at me with wide eyes. I couldn’t tell if it was because she was driving or the fact I knew she spoke French. 

I realized it was definitely the latter when she spoke back in the same language. 

“Was that directed as a general thing or at Peter?” 

Thank God no one else understood us. I mean it wouldn’t have been that big of a deal I’d just have to endure a bit of teasing but it’s better to avoid the headache. 

“So are you going to let us in on your conversation or…” Harry questioned.

“Shut up,” I spoke to both Harry and MJ. “Drop Peter off first,” That was the last thing I muttered before falling deep into the vast clusterfuck of a land that is my subconscious. 

When I woke up I was on Carmen’s couch with a blanket draped over my waist. I clumsily reached for my phone just texting the last person I texted. To stimulate my mind.  

you: hi are you awake 

I couldn’t help but laugh at how much this seemed like a u up? text but this was in a completely different context. 

It took a minute but he responded.

p😜🤚: yeah are you okay?

you: im fine just bored 

p😜🤚: oh

p 😜🤚: well we can talk if you want too 

I couldn’t help but smile. Ugh what’s wrong with me. I knew better than to ask this because I wasn’t trying to catch feelings anytime soon but my dumbass did it anyway. 

you: can we ft

p: sure 

He apparently did see the cuts on my leg that one time because he just asked me about it. To which I  denied, denied, denied. Salem did it and that’s final. I only did it once anyway so who gives a fuck I’d gotten the urge to do it under control. Like I’d heard somewhere before there’s a difference between thinking about hurting yourself and wanting to hurt yourself. 

“You’re sure you’re okay though?” He asked one last time and I nodded my head. “Okay because I know all these changes in your body can be-“

“Changes?” I interrupted “Why are you making it sound like puberty,” l laughed. I wish I could convince myself whatever these mutations were are just puberty.  

“You know what I mean!” He let out a small laugh.

“Okay but puberty is really weird, why do humans need so much sweat,” I attempted to shift the conversation onto something that wasn’t my physical and mental wellbeing.

 Either Peter could tell I wasn’t going to give him shit or I really was just the master of getting out of things but it worked. I eventually fell asleep and when I woke up he was still on the phone.

“So you’re sending me to bounty hunt a bounty hunter who’s bounty hunting Mr. America?”

“Exactly,” 

“That’s the dumbest shit I’ve heard all day,” 

“Hey you asked me to help you be grateful you little asshole,” Wade teased.

“Fuck you,” I laughed. “How long do I have?” 

“Two weeks top.” 

I hummed before hanging up.

Now the question was to do this alone or to bring someone else. I definitely haven’t been in the most stable of headspaces lately. There could be up to 4 Avengers and 1 bounty hunter. I’d have to be smart about this. I can’t believe that I’m about to say this but I need a plan. 

-Step one: Find Carmen and make her make a plan.-

Step one: Convince Tony to let me go on a solo mission. Giving me a reason to dip while having a whole buncha cool technological weapons at my disposal.

Step two: Disable the tracking in the weapons provided. 

Step three: Get a car.

Step four: Follow bounty guy to wherever they’re going. 

Step five: Take out the bounty guy. 

Step six: Talk to Captain America.

Step seven: Find Thor from Captain America. 

First I’d have to get out of detention. I would’ve been fine with detention if I had my phone. I don’t even know why I’m in here actually. I hadn’t gotten in trouble in a while. I was confused until Tony strolled into the room. Why couldn’t he meet anyone in a normal location just once. He always had to fucking abmush people. 

I had to hold back from rolling my eyes. 

“Yes?” I asked. 

“You said you were up for a solo op right?”

I nodded skeptically. 

“Well I have one for you next Friday,” 

“Go on,” I moved my arms under my torso to rest under my chin. 

It was just a simple drug bust in and out. He must’ve been really bored to go out of his way to try and stop something as miniscule as this. Probably didn’t think it through when he signed those accords. Now he literally can’t do anything without the whole world jumping his dick.  For now he’s living vicariously through Peter and I’m assuming. 

A simple drug bust isn’t something you really need to get ready for. Trying to find and possibly have to fight one Avenger let alone possibly 4 is something you have to be more than ready for. In every way possible. Including mentally.

“I think I want to go back on antidepressants,” I blurted, plopping back down on the couch with a bag of chips. 

“You’re being serious?” Carmen asked, pausing the TV.

“Yeah I mean what’s so surprising about that?” I unpaused it.

She paused it again turning towards me. 

“Why? What happened you said you hated all the side effects and would never take them again,” 

“Guess I changed my mind,” I shrugged “I just told you cause I know you know how to get them ‘s all,” 

“Okay.” She nodded and I could almost see her brain working behind her eyes. 

One thing about long term friends is they know when you don’t want to talk about something and they also know when they need to drop it. In the click of a few buttons on a keyboard I had an appointment with a psychiatrist. The fact she knew my insurance information is kinda scary though. Apparently I passed the test to get crazy people's medicine with flying colors. 

I was in Queens for many reasons, one of them being I wanted to spar with Felicia. She is not a sparring person she likes to fight but only when she has to, but I was able to convince her. It didn’t take much actually. She owes me after all 3:1.

She was sorta similar to Black Widow in fight styles and she was hard to beat.  With Captain America it’s easy, his fighting style is easy to evade, if I just avoid the shield and go for his legs I’d be good. Spiderman doesnt shield his left side when he goes to hit you and relies on his webs too much. Wanda she- I don’t know what she does actually but if I can get her to physically fight me instead of using powers I could easily take her down. That Falcon guy uses his legs a lot so aim for the wings. 

But Black Widow was agile. The strongest of them all because she doesn’t use strength you can tell from the videos I’d been analyzing she movies like a ballerina. Her fighting style is to not have one at all. 

I mean it was scary how similar she and Felicia were; they even both have Black in their name and suits. Despite neither of them being back which is funny. 

I was laid out on the panting. I rolled over onto my stomach grunting as I reached for my knife. I wasn’t done at least not yet. 

I slung my arm towards her and this time she didn’t catch it. I barely grazed her but it was enough to catch her off guard. I was able to get her pinned to the ground for like 15 seconds. 

“Remind me to never get on your bad side,” I laughed.

“You could never,” Honestly I’m starting to believe that. Even when Olivia and I broke up she never got hostile towards me or anything. And her being hostile towards me is not something I’d enjoy. 

I’d have to be the clumsiest “agile” person I’d ever met. I fell walking down the steps to get back outside. I rolled and landed on my ankle but I’m sure it’d be fine. It only caused a slight discomfort when I put pressure on it. I’m just glad I could walk like this without having Felicia on my ass about it. 

I was already in the area so I decided to stop by Peters house just to see if he was home. Okay in all honesty, I wasn’t really in the area Felicia lives in an entirely different part of Queens. But he said I could stop by whenever and I’d like to say I’m a literal person. 

I winced when I put my foot all the way back down on the ground but I didn’t want to be interrogated. Peter does not know when to drop things. 

“Hey,” I spoke once he opened the door. 

“Hey?” He asked more than said as if he was surprised I was here. 

He just stood there staring for a few seconds too long.

“So can I come in? Or...” I tilted my head. 

“Oh,” He shook his head slightly as if shaking out his thoughts. 

“Oh, yeah come in,” He stepped out of the way. 

We both sat with our legs facing each other on his bottom bunk. Suddenly I became aware. 

Aware of the way I could feel all the fibers in the polyester blanket I sat on.

Aware of each sound around me, the slight wind just outside the window, the faint TV show I could hear from the apartment on the floor above, the air conditioning rattling. 

Aware of how I didn’t remember who I’d been or how where or why. 

Aware of how I had a purpose, how I should look to the sky for answers and when I could not look to the light I must look into our heart. The one collective heart we share. But I could not remember who we were. I wasn’t meant to remember who we were or what we were.

I wasn’t supposed to remember not yet. Not now. But soon or maybe never. They'll never take my power, even if I didn’t understand it yet. It was mine and mine to keep. 

Aware of the faint whisper of my name rang through the air. 

I didn’t appreciate the headache and tightness in my chest this awareness or insanity brought me. I needed a distraction. Not sure why this was the first thing that popped into my head but it was. 

“Your suit can record things right?”

“Yeah why?” 

“Does it record everything it’s around?”

The whispering only got closer and closer. My name being called out with a sense of urgency and grief. I couldn’t see. There was a difference between adrenaline and anxiety and this wasn’t the later. Something was seriously wrong and I had no idea what to do about it. Finally the voice got so loud it could not be ignored.

“Y/N!” I snapped my eyes up and tried to calm my breathing. 

“What?” I asked with more hostility than I intended. 

“It’s just you zoned out and started muttering something. It freaked me out,” 

I had to hold back from showing my confusion on my face. 

“Sorry,” I murmured sheepishly. I don’t know why I felt the need to apologize. It's like I was a walking ball of grief, guilt, and shame but it wasn’t my own. 

I’m not sure how long we sat there in silence before I felt the impending urge to escape but as soon as I put pressure on my foot the shock of the pain shooting to my leg wasn’t able to be concealed. I winced quietly but I know he heard me. 

In two seconds flat he was pestering me trying to figure out what was wrong. I ignored him and suddenly the fraying on the shoelaces of my combat boots was extremely interesting to me. 

“It’s nothing Peter, drop it,” I walked towards his closet. 

“It’s not nothing,” He sighed moving towards me. “Why can’t you just tell me what’s wrong?” 

Because if I told you then you’d tell Tony and I’d get taken off the solo op.

I just looked up at the ceiling and decided to change the topic with something I knew would get the target off of my back. 

“Why’d you never get me arrested?” 

“Huh?” He raised his eyebrows scrunching up his face.

“All the times you came after me as Thorn. You always let me get away, why?” 

“I don’t know. I just couldn’t see you get arrested I guess.” 

I hummed to his answer letting my hands roam through his closet. I picked up a pair of Hello Kitty pajama pants.

“When’d you get these?” I asked. 

He snatched them from my hands.

“Haha go ahead and make fun of me for them. Mr. Stark gave them to me.” 

I simply smiled.

”I was just going to say they were very cute actually ’m sure you looked adorable, but okay,”

I glanced back at him and his face had a light pink glow.

“You’re blushing!” I pointed out laughing.

“Am not,” He lied.

“Are too. I can tell you aren’t used to getting compliments,” I smiled. “That’s too bad though you deserve plenty of compliments,” I looked back up at the ceiling and noticed an attic or trap door. I hopped up a bit and his suit fell down as I hit the door. 

“How does everyone keep finding that?” I heard him ask.

“It’s a very you place to put it that’s why,” I mindlessly answered back.

“You heard me?” 

That’s snapped me out of whatever trance I was in. 

“What? Was I not supposed to?” As soon as the sentence left my mouth I heard a scream.

“Somethings wrong,” Peter announced. So he heard it too?

I felt drawn to it. Like I knew them or something. 

“Uh…” I stalled “I have to go. Sorry,” 

“Okay text me when you get back home,” He rushed out since I’d moved away so quickly. 

I was sure I was limping but the pain wasn’t as prevalent in my mind as the screaming was. I followed it as if it was a compass. I followed it to the middle of nowhere. It was just dry grass and about three trees caged by chain link fences and abandoned buildings. 

Whatever came over me faded as soon stepped off the sidewalk. The screaming subsided into nothing and it was like a tight grip around my chest slipping away. I’m really losing my mind oh my god. 

I couldn’t sleep. I sat in the bathtub all night focusing. I found when I focused hard enough I could move some of the things. It isn’t so much about imagining where you want something to go it was about believing it was already there. It hurt my head to do it though. I only moved about three things 4 inches. 

It was a possibility that I was going through a psychotic break or I could’ve really been moving things with my mind because of whatever radiation was in my body. A few days ago I apparently disappeared after there was a tornado of shampoo bottles flying around. Maybe I did that subconsciously somehow. 

I mean gamma rays literally invented the Hulk wherever he was. Who knows what they were doing to me. 

I eventually fell asleep halfway on and halfway off the couch. How I even got there in the first place I wasn’t sure. I upped the times I needed to go to the gym a day to 3 times. That would’ve been fine. I didn’t have like 50 missing assignments to turn in before the end of the semester. Which is in 2 weeks. 

It didn’t help that I felt like something bad was about to happen. Don’t know what but I feel it coming. I hummed to myself. Okay now back on track. It comes in handy to have smart friends, especially ones willing to help you get your work done. 

“Why are we at the park?” Peter asked as I tucked my legs back to swing even higher. 

“Because if you do work in an unusual place you get it done faster.”

“I’m not sure that’s tr-“ 

“It is true don’t question me,” 

“We're not even doing any work right now,” He pointed out. 

“If you swing higher than me we can start.” I knew he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.

“Oh, you’re on,” He replied, putting both his hands on the swing’s chains. 

He didn’t beat me. I let him win because I got tired.

“Yeah right,” He laughed. 

“I did! You wouldn’t of won if I didn’t stop, I let you win out of pity” 

I actually managed to get 3 whole assignments done. School can be kinda fun when you have a teacher who doesn’t try to make you feel stupid. It’s way easier when you have the energy to try at all.

 You never realize how much walking you do in a day or how excruciating exercising is until your leg hurts. I was going to let it stop me though. There’s a reason people say walk it off to injuries. 

The entire structure of my plan had failed. Somehow, someone probably Peter, told Tony that I got hurt and I got taken off the solo op. 

After 30 minutes of me being annoying as fuck I got put back on. Only problem now was Peter was coming as a safety precaution.

Step 8: Figure out how to ditch Peter.

Fuck my life. Although everything else was falling apart I’d manage to get 40% of my assignment turned in. 

Friday came in a blink of an eye. I’d be the bait and Peter would just be the lookout. I wasn’t planning on going through with whatever I was supposed to be doing here. I just needed to disable the tracker in my communicator. I guess I was thinking straight because I didn’t hear or even see the guy move behind Peter. Not until I heard him call out.

“It’s a set up!” 

There was one thing I didn’t have to think about and that was running. It was my expert tactic. I knew it wouldn’t be fair to leave Peter. He might think he can take care of himself but he was too naive for his own good. 

“Wait!” He called out and I stopped behind an empty building.

“Do you trust me?” I asked.

“Yeah but why-“ 

I interrupted him.

“I need to do something really important and Tony can’t know about it,” 

“Now you can go back but you can’t say a single thing about this to him. Just say the mission went wrong and I decided it was safer to ditch or something.”

I could see the conflict in his eyes.

“No,” 

Fuck. I felt my burner vibrate in my pocket. It was probably Carmen asking where I was. 

“No?” 

“Yeah cause I’m coming with you,” 

“I can’t ask you do to that,” 

“I know but I’m coming or I’ll tell Mr. Stark,” 

I knew he probably wouldn’t but I couldn’t risk the slim chance that he would. 

“Fine…” I breathed out. I didn’t have anytime to argue I’d just ditch him somewhere. 

I saw him quietly cheer. Clearly not understanding the severity of the situation. This wasn't some Vulture thing, this was very highly trained individuals. 

I dialed Carmen again.

“Hey… So we’ve got a plus one,” 

“What?” 

“You’ll see,” 

We were in the car for 12 fucking hours and we still weren’t there. I never realized how much Peter talked until now. We had no form of entertainment besides the radio. Carmen pulled over at a gas station so we could switch off and partially because Peter said he had to use the bathroom. 

While he was still inside Carmen spoke up for the first time in what felt like weeks.

“Why’d you bring Golden boy along?”

“Cause I didn't want him to get shot,” 

“Yeah I understand that part. Why didn’t you just like knock him out and dip,” 

“What why the fuck would I do that,” 

“You would’ve done it to anyone else. You’re getting all soft,” She poked my side and I flipped her off. 

“How’s that for soft?” As soon as the sentence came out of my mouth I heard the click of the door opening and it startled me a lot more than it should’ve. 

The rest of the ride was silent save from Peter asking home much longer we had to go before falling asleep. It was about 12 pm by the time we got there. After shaking both Carmen and Peter awake I headed up to knock on the door. 

A girl who looked about Aaliya’s age answered the door.

I smiled at her.

“Is your dad here I have to ask him something,” 

Now I knew for a fact he was here he was on house arrest. I was looking through the videos Peter’s suit had recorded and I found this giant guy at some airport in Germany who I was able to trace back to Scott Lang. 

That one guy who transferred all that money out of Vistacorp back to its consumers. It was pretty badass as far as nonviolent crimes go. 

I could see her playing my question over in her head deciding if she’d have to lie or not. I’m assuming she saw something somewhat trustworthy in me because I was sitting in his house on his couch. Trying to convince him to help me.  

“So let me get this straight. You have telekinetic and fire powers and had a dream that you believe is prophetic and you need me to tell you where Captain America is?” 

“Pretty much yeah,” 

“Okay uh wow,” He claimed standing up. I could tell he believed me. There wasn't a hint of distrust in his eyes. Which is good because I wasn’t lying.

“I want to help you, I do. But-“ 

“You don’t know where he is do you?” 

“No not exactly. I do have something though.” He replied standing up off the couch “Hold on let me get it,” He went rummaging around his house because coming back about a minute later. 

“No luck?” Carmen asked as she read my facial expression. 

I shook my head.

“All he gave me was this,” I held up the plastic plaque. 

“What are we even looking for anyway,” Peter asked. 

I could see Carmen shaking her head signaling me not to tell him. I didn’t. He’d find out sooner or later. I think we were too far from home to ditch him now.

“So are we paying or are we saving the cash?” Carmen asked.

“We can just save it probably let me go check,” 

The hotel was empty for the most part. Multiple rooms to choose from. It was always easier to make a get away if needed from the bottom floor and I chose to break into the one closest to the exit. 

“I call showering first,” Carmen spoke. 

I just waved her off plopping onto one of the Queen beds placed next to the air conditioner. Peter was just standing in the corner like he was nervous or something. 

“First “road trip” or something?” I teased.

“Kinda…” He trailed off as something caught his attention. “Are you ever going to tell me where we’re going,” 

Might as well.

“To find Captain America,” 

He looked like a deer caught in headlights. 

“Wait you’re being serious?”

“As a heart attack,” 

“I don’t think he likes me,” He looked down as he fidgeted with his hands. “I kinda stole his shield,” 

“So I’ve heard,” I giggled. 

I checked the communicator and the bounty hunter we were supposed to be hunting down was still in the same place. This could mean 1 of many things, either the tracker on them is broken or has been found, they found him already, or the whole communicator was broken. 

“Alright I’m done,” Carmen emerged from the bathroom. 

Peter being nice like he always is let me go next. Sometimes it concerns me how nice he is. Like he was planning something just like Canadians they all seem so nice but they’re just as racist as everyone else. But now I’m starting to believe he's just genuinely that good of a person. 

Which is refreshing. You don’t see too many good people nowadays. However the better of a person you are the more room you have to taint. And I knew for a fact I wouldn’t allow myself to be one of those people who did it. 

You know when you’re dreaming and there’s something or someone chasing you and you try to run but you never can. I would say that’s me, my entire essence. I’d been trying to out run my demons for so long never realizing that my only demon was myself. And no matter how bad I wanted to, I couldn’t outrun myself. Trust me I’ve tried. 

I couldn’t outrun the sudden ache moving throughout my body. I could always feel an anxiety attack right before it happened but remained powerless to stop it most of the time. 

Streams of water ran over my body mixing with the warm tears that ran down my face. I’m sure the water pressure overpowered my sobs from outside of the room but that didn’t mean I couldn’t hear the pathetic sounds. 

After my breathing went back to normal I stood in the mirror detangling my hair staring at each mark on my body. Whether it be a tattoo or scar or a mole I looked. I reminisced about the stories behind them, some a lot sadder than the rest. But somehow the marks I couldn’t remember were the saddest of them all.

It hurt to want to go back to life before everything went… just wrong, when you couldn’t even remember what it was like before then. 

It’s like I was numb before and crying felt good. Well it didn’t feel good but you know what I mean. It just felt good to know I could still feel.

I heard a knock at the door shaking myself out of my spiraling thoughts. I sniffled, wiping my nose, before tightening my towel around my waist and opening the door.

The first thing that hit me was the cool breeze of the hotel air conditioning contrasting against my warm skin. The second was Peter looking confused as ever holding some form of cloth in his hands.

“Oh I’m sorry, was I taking too long?” I looked back towards my clothes sitting on the counter grabbing them as if I was about to exit but in reality I still had no clothes on underneath this towel. “You can go hold on,” 

“No! Uh…”

“No what?” I smiled. 

“I came to bring...” He waved around what I could now see was a shirt.

I simply raised my eyebrows at him suspiciously.

“Here,” He thrusted the shirt into my hands. 

I looked down at the article of clothing in confusion.

“Thanks?” 

“I know you left it out here so…” He awkwardly clamped his hands together. 

“Thank you,” I replied, slowly shutting the door so he knew he could back off. For some reason I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. 

Smiles never lasted long for me. Something weird just always manages to happen every time I’m even remotely happy. 

I was in some form of a prison or detainment facility. There was thick glass everywhere so I’m assuming it was high security. I had the plaque from earlier today in my hand except it wasn’t my hand. Unless I have magically turned white, it was someone else. 

This isn’t the first time I’ve felt this. Feeling like you’re disconnected from your body that is. Like in the Edge of Seventeen when Nadine says she gets this feeling like she’s looking down on herself from outside her body and she hates what she sees. That’s sort of how it felt. 

But this? This felt entirely different like I was in the wrong body but retained my soul, it couldn't be explained. It requires no explanation really if you understand it then great and if you don’t you don’t. 

The plaque had a seam that I hadn’t noticed before and it was hollow inside. I clutched in my right hand and kept walking.

 As soon as I entered a large room extending from the hall. That all too familiar siren sound played through my ears as a bright light stunted my vision. 

I was brought back to my body. Well I guess I just woke up because now I was all sweaty and sitting straight up on the bed like an idiot.

 I made my way to the bathroom and the light made me realize my eyes were glowing and so were my veins. I just blinked it out like I was trying to put contacts in and washed my face. 

Seriously what was happening to me I don’t want to end up like Hulk or Wanda and have everyone scared of me. But whatever this is couldn’t be controlled or understood. 

I woke the others up, as I was trying to figure out how to open the plaque I heard Carmen hiss loudly.

“Why’s the doorknob so hot?” She turned to me “Did you do this?” 

“No? How would I do that?” Maybe I did do it. I did lose my train of thought when I went to open the door. 

Still doesn’t explain the heat part, maybe it had something to do with the fire thing from Staten Island but I hadn’t done that again since that night. I was honestly starting to believe I made it up. 

I reached for a napkin to wipe the syrup off my hands. It was Carmen’s brilliant idea to stop at a Waffle House. All the time we spent here could’ve been used doing something actually productive. 

“So why are you trying to open that?” Peter asked, sliding closer to where I had the plaque laid out on the table. He asks too many questions. I didn’t wanna respond but I didn’t wanna be mean.

“Because,” I grunted as I struggled to pull apart the top and bottom. “I had a dream that there was something inside and now I wanna see if that’s true,” 

“A dream?” He questioned.

“Yeah a dream,” 

“Who was in it?”

“No one was in it,” I started to get annoyed for absolutely no reason. “Just finished your food,” I pointed at his plate.

“Fine…” He slid back over. 

I hit the seam of the plaque against the edge of the table and the bottom popped up. I let out a silent cheer and caught the attention of Carmen.

“What?” 

I flipped the opening over my palm and a rolled up piece of paper came out. 

“Look what I found,” 

“A clue,” Peter spoke.

“It’s not a clue this isn’t some TV adventure it’s just evidence,” Carmen spat. 

I unraveled it revealing a bunch of numbers. I think it’s either a phone number or coordinates. It wasn’t a phone number. I called it and some random Canadian person picked up. So the next option was coordinates.

“Are we sure this is the right place?” Carmen asked. Looking at the stranded house sitting some way down the street.

“If it’s not then oh well,” I shrugged, unhooking my seat belt. 

I leaned down to the slightly cracked passenger window. 

“Do not get out of this car.” I spat through my teeth. Neither of them knew how to listen and I had to let them know I meant business. 

I started towards the house, the gravel crunching under my feet before I turned back again.

“I mean it!” I called out before sprinting back into the house. 

The door creaked open as I pushed it open and I turned back to keep it from closing. The second I did it I knew it was the wrong decision to make. Literally anyone who knew anything about anything knew to not turn their back on unknown territory.

  I was being restrained by some invisible force that wasn’t invisible for long. There were scarlet or crimson waves making my tingle.

 It was more of a tickling feeling than a burning one. That feeling faded into another soon. I clamped my eyes shut, it felt like someone was using my head as a bowl using a spoon to try to scrape my brains out.

 I ended up overpowering whatever force was holding down my arms to hold my head. It was excruciating putting my hand there only made it worse. As soon as I made contact with the skin that loud siren noise like nails on a chalkboard racking through my brain caused me to double over in pain. I saw two legs above me and I heard someone’s voice saying.

“Wanda? What’s going on out there?” 

My vision blurred as I tried to swat at who was allegedly Wanda Maximoff the telekinetic girls legs. The one person I didn’t want to run into was over here melting my brain. I pushed myself up. I think I couldn’t really feel my muscles. I know for a fact my back hit something or maybe something hit my back. 

I heard more footsteps nearby and hushed whispers followed by a who are you and what do you want. I probably would’ve answered if I could but I don’t think I had the current ability to form a coherent sentence. 

“She doesn’t look like one of theirs. How do we know she’s here to hurt us?” I heard someone say. 

“I don’t know I can’t read her,” A voice I hadn’t heard before spoke. 

“What’s that mean?” 

I was stuck in place again. I couldn’t really see and I could feel anything but the tearing of my brain in half and the presence of another body in the room. My eyes were closed but I felt them get closer to me. Too close for my liking. My eyes shot open as soon as I heard. 

“Y/N?” 

I tried my best to lift my head to meet the redhead's eyes. 

“You know her Romanoff?” I heard the first guy from before speak. 

“Sort off?” She shrugged and reached out to pull me up to a sitting position. I let her. 

Romanoff. This was Natasha Romanoff aka Black Widow. She was here with Wanda along with who was most likely Captain America and she knew my name. 

“How-“ I swallowed some of my spit because of how dry my throat is. “How do you know my name?” 

She answered my question with a question of her own. 

“How’d you find this place? Most importantly why?” 

“I asked you first,” I narrowed my eyes. 

She had the audacity to chuckle at my statement. 

I glared at her which turned into some sort of staring contest until it was interrupted by some wannabe comedian.

“Are we interrupting some family reunion here or…” 

I flipped off the general direction of the voice off on instinct. 

Taglist: 

@tomdiddlyumptious​

[spookyboywhump]

Okay so I was rereading some things recently and I couldn't shake that mention Zander makes of the one replacement that Cain allegedly killed. Could you tell the story behind it? Mostly curious about Zander and Cain's feelings on this, but go into as much detail as you possibly can/want to :D!!!!

Hi Boa I Would Die For You Because I’ve Been Wanting To Talk About This So Bad But Haven’t Been Able To Figure Out How To

You’d think this would get brought up more since it was. A pretty major event for Cain and Zander. For the sake of this we’ll just call this replacement A. 

this got really long and rambly and I’m so sorry I just hope it’s Coherent

Content Warnings: Death, Dehumanization, Pet whump

 OKAY So. This happened when Zander had only been there for maybe. Three years. This was one of the first few replacements Cain ever got, and really he was more of a threat to Zander than an actual plan to replace him. Because of this, Cain didn’t. Put a lot of thought into the dog he picked out, and the one he got was very much so a fighter, he hadn’t signed up for this willingly, and he fought with Cain constantly.

 Zander and A didn’t get along well at all. Zander did what he could, he tried to tell him all the rules so he wouldn’t have to find out the hard way, he tried to tell him it was easier to just do what Cain says, and frankly, A thought Zander was ridiculous for not fighting more than he already did. They argued often, they’d gotten into at least one physical fight, but Zander still didn’t want to see anything bad happen to A. 

 They kind of co existed for a while though, eventually came to understand they wouldn’t agree and if they could avoid it they barely even talked to each other. They were always together but still. Very much so alone because they didn’t have the kind of relationship Zander and Wren have, they couldn’t rely on each other, and even though Zander tried early on, A wasn’t as accepting of his efforts and he eventually understood that A just wanted to be left alone. 

 The last couple of replacements Cain had gotten, he usually threw away, they were either returned or given to somebody else and Zander kind of expected the same to happen to A. He didn’t. Really think a punishment would go wrong. Cain didn’t even expect it, he never wanted to kill anybody. There were a lot of factors that played into his death, he was already weak, he likely hadn’t been eating enough, he was injured from past punishments and when Cain tried to beat the defiance out of him his body just. Couldn’t handle it. 

 Zander tried to stop Cain, he had tried to take the punishment for A initially but. Because A died he feels like he’s somewhat responsible. He feels like if he had tried harder, begged more, attacked Cain even, then A would still be alive, maybe even have gotten free. He was always a protective person but this event specifically led him to believe he needs to put other dogs before himself, that if anything like this happens again then it has to be him because he couldn’t stand to let another person die. Before this event, he never would’ve attacked Cain the way he has before, but now he knows it’s possible for Cain to make this mistake, and when Cain goes too far he’ll do whatever he can to stop it before it results in another death.

 A good example of this is this piece where he does hit Cain for what he did to Wren. He knows that could’ve easily killed Wren, he knows Cain was getting close to that line again and he knew if he didn’t lash out somehow then Cain could end up crossing it again whether he intends to or not. 

 As for Cain, he didn’t handle this. Well. It’s the kind of thing where, before it happened, he thought he could’ve handled it. He’d been raised and conditioned to be heartless, to not see these dogs as people but as things, and to an extent he does, however. He is very much so still human. He never made it to the point his father wanted him to, he was never able to truly disregard somebody’s life like that. He never would’ve intentionally killed anybody, and when he realized what he’d done he didn’t know what to do.

 He panicked, he had a whole breakdown over the situation, and Zander. Wasn’t really helping because he was lashing out at Cain because that was all he could think to do since he was just as panicked as Cain was. Zander never thought Cain would’ve done this, and while he still holds Cain accountable for it, he knows it wasn’t intentional and he knows that Cain is not meant to be a killer. He worries more about accidents than Cain actually murdering somebody else. 

 Cain eventually calmed down enough, he knew who to call to have the situation handled, and if he was anything like his father then that would’ve been the end of it. The body was disposed of, any evidence was gotten rid of, and the entire thing was covered up, if he was like his father then he would’ve forgotten about it completely, probably only mentioning A in passing conversations about disobedient pets.

 He’s not like his father though. It weighed on him for a long, long time, it still does really. Even when it comes to more drastic things he’s done, they’re more often done in bouts of extreme emotion, when he’s thinking clearly, when he’s actually planning, he does make sure to take measures so that something like this won’t happen again. It’s when he’s lashing out and unpredictable that this becomes possible again, and Zander is really the only thing making sure nothing goes that far- and the only reason it’s very unlikely Zander would ever fall victim to this is that Cain genuinely depends on Zander in several ways and he knows Zander’s limits and while he might push him sometimes, he is more careful than he would be with Wren because he could not bear to lose him.

 Zander has a lot of guilt from this situation. He feels guilty that he didn’t try hard enough, he feels guilty that it wasn’t him who died, even though he and A never got along he still feels like A deserved to live far more than he does. It’s one of several things that contribute to his intense self hatred, he feels like he’s a bad person because his efforts just. Weren’t enough to save A. It’s a big part of why he protects Wren and Cathal the way he does, and especially a big part of why he acts out to keep their owners’ attention while insisting they behave and avoid getting in trouble. 

 It’s been nearly four years and Cain is still incredibly guilty over this. He doesn’t enjoy death, he has too much of a conscience to kill intentionally, and it’s one of several things that keep him up at night. He still has serious nightmares about this event, he still feels like he deserves some sort of punishment for this event but the obvious answer is just. Completely unfathomable to him and part of it is that he’s genuinely too much of a coward to ever speak up about it.

 Zander and Cain don’t talk about this event. It fucked up both of them in different ways and Zander knows that bringing it up won’t do anything but make things worse- which he especially avoids now that Wren is here. Zander couldn’t protect A when he should’ve, and so he’s done his best with the replacements before, and now that he has Wren and he’s actually formed a genuine bond and a close relationship with him, his self sacrificing and his need to protect have only gotten stronger. Cain can’t take back what he did to that man, he can’t undo the fact he killed him, but he can do his best so it doesn’t happen again- which is why Zander is almost never punished when he makes it clear that Cain fucked up big time. 

 This is such an important event and it’s a damn shame my brain hasn’t let me write it in detail before because it’s. Kind of a major thing. But I’m so glad I got the jist of it out here and I’m so thrilled I got to talk about it so!!! Big thank Boa!!!!!

[doof-doofblog]

"Hello, Sis!"

Tuesday 6th April 2021

Hello again everyone! Wow! Feels like it's been a while since I last posted, I had a very busy week last week and again this week being back at work! I'm sure you must all be happy regarding the lockdown easing ever so slowly! I've come to the realisation that now I'm back to the day job, my posts will have to be done in the evenings, so I apologise if some of them seem late from now on. I'm planning on possibly doing another blog post tomorrow and then a double on Thursday in an attempt to catch up! I know the majority of you have already seen last week's episodes, it seems I have a lot of catching up to do!

We know that things are supposed to be kicking off this week (commencing 12th April) due to the return of Nancy Carter and the possible outcome of Kush's trial? I do have a fear Kush may be killed off and become another victim of Gray's but I am hoping that that doesn't happen! But before we can even begin to get excited about it, I need to post about the episodes that you guys have seen, but unfortunately I haven't.

So without further ado, I'm going to begin chatting about Isaac. It seems that Sheree seems to have overstepped the mark regarding both Lola and Patrick. I mean of course she is acting as the concerned Mum and Wife, but she needs to realise that there are some things she can't interfere with. Patrick has been offered the opportunity to go on blood thinners as an experiment for stroke victims - (at least that's the jist I got from it anyway!) - but Sheree is standing her ground claiming she doesn't want her husband to take part in it, purely because she fears for his health. Again, I can understand her concern but she can't stop Patrick from doing something he may want to do, considering he's already suffered two strokes whilst on the Square, he'll want to do his part in helping other victims.

But also where Lola is concerned, Sheree is still interfering in her son's relationship, for a brief moment it looked as if she had scared poor Lola off! Finally Isaac has sat his Mum down and told her straight to stop interfering with everybody's lives, even claiming that some times she can come across as controlling, even though her concern comes from a good place. For the first time in a long time, Isaac is feeling ready to enter another relationship, and he informs her Mum that with Lola, it feels right, he's slowly falling for her and there could be chance that she is feeling the same and the relationship could become serious?!

As Isaac instruct his Mum to kind of back off, Lola appears to have escaped to the Vic. Oh and once again Peter seems it's necessary to poke his nose into business that has nothing to do with him! Urgh, I really don't know about any one else, but for me personally - Peter is one of the worst characters the soap has right now, not in the sense of villainy, but just as a whole - his attitude towards his family, thinking he's the big I AM, urgh I don't like him, I really don't! Something has to change with this Peter I think, what about you guys?! Do you agree or do you think I'm being a little bit harsh? Either way he insults Lola and manages to persuade her to tell him what's on her mind. Believing he's a trusted friend, Lola confides in Peter, informing him about Isaac's diagnosis - something I fear she will possibly live to regret. But after her meeting with Peter, she eventually meets up with Isaac in the club and he informs her to not let his Mother scare her off, Isaac has full control over his illness right now and there would be no way for Lola to trigger any kind of breakdown. Let's hope things remain this way, right? But something is telling me that with all this positivity and reassuring that Isaac is fine and he has everything under control, something is telling me that eventually Isaac will have some form of breakdown and hopefully EastEnders will be able to have an opportunity to portray what having schizophrenia is really like!

--

Oooooo and what is this?! A possible new love interest for Bernie?! It's about bloody time!!! So, I'm sure the majority of you know that the Taylor family have taken in a new dog named Banjo after finding him on the streets and assuming he was a stray. Unfortunately, since the dog has been in their possession, some flyers advertising the lost dog have been spreading around the Square. Mitch was the first one to notice them, but not wanting to break his young daughter's heart, after their new family member has brought her so much happiness, he disposed of the flyer and never said a word about it to his family.

Now after this young girl seems to catch her eye on the Square, denying to Bailey that she's does not have a crush on her, she claims that she was just interested in the girl's flyer's. As Bailey goads her to ask for one, Bernadette comes to realise what the girl is advertising. (Also just zooming through the end credits of the episode now, there happen to be two female names of who this young lady could be - "Clara" or "Molly" - It'll be interesting if she was to show up again!) Taking the flyer back home, Bernie sadly informs her Mum and Mitch that a girl is out there looking for her dog, who they happen to have living with them, and his name isn't Banjo, it's Ziggy!

At first it seems the Taylor's are in a bit of a denial, it's understandable that they've grown to love the dog, but when Karen calls him by the name "Ziggy", the dog automatically responds. Bernie claims that they have to do the right thing and return the dog to it's rightful owner, however Mitch is looking deeply suspicious as Karen realises that he knew about the flyer's a couple of weeks ago and never said anything. He claims he didn't want to break Bailey's heart after all the loss she's had in recent months. It's then that Karen happens to agree with Mitch and states that the dog will be staying with them. They instruct Bernie to call the girl up and give her false story about the dog. Poor Bernadette isn't one for lying, so it's quite funny and yet sweet when she attempts to make up a story about the dog being lashed into a van to the unknown female. But it seems the girl can see right through Bernie and claims that she saw the way she was looking at her in the Square and offers to buy her a drink. Even though Bernie is already hiding the fact that she has her dog, could this be the start of new relationship for her?!

--

Ooh yea, so Ruby and Lily are still at loggerheads with each other! After devastatingly realising that Lily has cut her deceased Mum's wedding dress to pieces, Ruby is demanding that Lily leaves the house. Even though Lily isn't Ruby's biggest fan right now, it's clear that she had no idea that the dress belonged to her Mum, but it turns out she might've known that it was a special piece of clothing as Ruby states the dress was kept in a box at the back of her cupboard.

As Martin sends his daughter upstairs to get changed out of Ruby's clothes, he begins to think of some kind of punishment for his daughter, informing his wife that Lily is simply just missing her Mum. However it seems that Ruby's day goes from bad to worse, after discovering the state of her Mother's ripped dress, she informs her husband that she got a call from the clinic. It turns out the Ruby could most likely have endometriosis and that their fears about not having any more children is more likely. Devastatingly, endometriosis is severe and it could mean that she may not be able to have any more children in the future, sadly the one she lost might've been her only chance of being a Mum.

Understandably devastated for his wife, Martin realises he needs to do something to cheer her up. As Lily recovers from changing out of Ruby's clothes, Martin informs Ruby that Lily's punishment is to give her no access to any electronics for a week, and in an attempt to make things up to Ruby, Lily "apparently" has offered to give up her birthday money if it means there could be a way to salvage the ruined wedding dress. Ruby is visibly touched by the kind gesture, claiming that she didn't mean what she said about wanting her to move out, she claims that being her Stepmother - she'll always have a place to stay with them. Lily just simply smiles.

As Martin informs his wife of bubble bath waiting for her upstairs, Ruby thanks her Stepdaughter once again and leaves the room. As Martin follows, giving her the thumbs-up, it seems as if they think Lily will be okay and there'll be no more issues, but from the look on Lily's face, she really doesn't seem happy. Something was telling me that maybe she was being forced to apologise to Ruby? She clearly didn't mean her apology, is she still going to make Ruby's life a living nightmare?!

--

Oh Jean!!! Poor Jean!! I know I mentioned it in the last post, but I'm going to mention it again, I cannot applaud Gillian Wright enough for her performance as Jean! Jean clearly isn't coping with having her daughter back inside again while she's suffering a terminal illness, all she wants really is to be back with her daughter. As everyone gathers and sees the commotion, Sharon comes to realise that the only reason Jean is acting this way and holding herself up in the vehicle is because she wants to be with her daughter.

In an attempt to get Jean out of the van, Sharon pleads to the police to let her talk to her softly. As she approaches the fragile woman in the vehicle, she explains that even though she understands how Jean is feeling, the actions she's currently doing won't help her in any way. Even though Jean wants to be arrested in an attempt to be with her daughter, Sharon informs her that if she was to get arrested and put in prison, there is no guaranteed chance that she'd end up in the same prison as Stacey, in hindsight the only thing she'd get out of it is probably a criminal record and a hefty fine.

Realising her mistake and that possibly her actions may not get her close to her daughter, Jean agrees to switch off the engine and leave the vehicle. Now the next scene between Sharon and Jean I found funny but really touching also, I don't know why but I've loved the friendship that they've begun to build with these two characters. Two women I never thought would have each other's backs, but it seems that they are both struggling with things in their personal life, and I just LOVED how they both fell about laughing about the outcome of things, Sharon realising she's a single Mother with no money and how Jean has almost corrupted her new gym business. I found the scene really heart-warming as both the women agreed that sometimes shouting out to life itself is sometimes the only thing they have left?

I just loved it, it was as if they have a mutual understanding of each other and they found some common ground. Jean opened up to Sharon and Sharon opened up to Jean, even informing her about discovering a long lost brother that she's still unsure of whether to contact or not. But as Jean claims that having family around you is one of the most important things, Sharon seems to see it as another man in her life who she doesn't really need and decides to bin the phone number.

However, later as Sharon unfortunately misses her date with Kheerat and ends up drinking alone, Jean excitedly approaches her new found friend, even though she appears excited she also seems a little nervous and jittery. Admitting she might've overstepped the mark, she repeats the fact that Sharon needs her family around her and considering she hasn't got that many members of her family left ..... ?! Sharon questions what Jean has done and it's only when they get out onto the Square they see a car pulling up and stepping out of it, appears Zack! Jean only contacted her brother! But the interesting thing that gets me, Zack greets Sharon by calling her "Sis!" - last time he saw her, he had no idea who she was, just another person who attended his Dad's funeral, does this mean that Jean informed about Sharon's true identity?!

Either way, I'm super excited to see what happens next, I'll be sure to follow up this post with another one tomorrow. I once again apologise for this being super late, I'm going to try my very best to catch up, regardless at being back to the day job! Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening. Please feel free to leave me any messages or comments about EastEnders and I'll happily reply! Love you all xXx

[messedupessy]

Number 15 with the Fell brothers~! :3

Ahhhh here ya go man I literally wrote this in one day, which is today just frikking wrote it in pretty much one go and I am seriously proud of myself gnkjegnkjgkrje so yeah enjoy xD ❤

Edit 2021/01/05: Decided to update this, fixed some grammar and added some minor things, enjoy!

Stealing Flowers

Relationship: None, just bros

Warnings: Mention of animal death, but nothing graphic or detailed

Prompt: “Are you seriously stealing flowers off that grave?” 

Summary: Red joins Edge on a trip to the cemetery.

 AO3

Story below cut

“Red, Really?”, Red heard Edge say slightly behindhim, clearly exasperated. “Are You Seriously Stealing Flowers Off That Grave?”

“yep, sure am baby bro.”, he replied with his usualwide grin, as it was true. He was currently picking, or stealing as Edge calledit, some flowers off of a grave he was squatting down in front of.

Though it wasn’t really stealing since the flowerswere technically grown there and clearly not planted, was actually rather whatmost people would call weeds. So in turn Red was actually doing the cemeterystaff a favour by removing some of the said weeds off the grave.

“And Do Tell Me Why Exactly You Are Doing Such AThing, Brother?”, Edge asked again, his voice stiff with barely held backirritation.

“jist doin’ my daily good deed of tha day, bro.”, Redjoked with a dark chuckle, the disgusted noise he got in return worth it. Hethen stood up with the flowers in hand, turning around so he was now face toface with his much younger, and also sort of angry, brother.

Edge was dressed in a fancy black suit; with some kneehigh boots that had some minor heel to them which Red was thankful for theother wearing. As Edge really needed to stop stomping around with those overlyhigh heels of his, they were so not good for that bad hip of his. And alongsidethat cute scowl his face was currently expressing, so was he holding a largebouquet of red roses with a large matching ribbon.  

Red himself was not dressed up for the occasion atall, he was in fact just wearing his usual outfit as he hadn’t bothered at allor even tried to dress up, unlike his brother.

“nah, thought i shoulda get somethin’ fer tha grave,pay me respects an’ all that shit, ya know.”, Red then added with a shrugbefore Edge had a chance to say anything else, fiddling with the flowers heheld in his hands slightly, his mind noting they were probably some sort ofdandelions or something.

That gave Edge pause, stopped him right as he wasabout to say something, probably a lecture, but instead he ended up juststanding there with stunned surprise on his features. But it wasn’t long untilhis whole body visibly relaxed, letting out a deep sigh in defeat, while alsogiving Red a suspicious glare.

“Let’s… Let’s Keep Moving.”, Edge uttered before hequickly began to walk, quickly making his way past Red and down the path of thecemetery with long steps.

And like the lazy ass he was, Red instead of followinghis brother simply took a shortcut.

Then quickly reappearing with barely a sound at theirdestination, which was another grave.

He eyed the grave lazily while he waited for hisbrother, which wouldn’t take long thanks to those long legs of his. The blackgranite of the headstone shined brightly in the strong summer sun, slightlyblinding him but not enough to stop him from reading what was written on it.

It said, with big fancy golden letters:

                                                  Doomfanger

                                              Unknown July. 17          

                                                 2261 - 2284  

                                 Beloved pet,companion and friend

Around the textthere were paw prints carved into the stone also with gold in them, alongsideother golden squiggly patterns here and there which he guessed were leaves orsome shit, his brother not sparing any expense when it came to the grave of hisnow dead pet cat.

The old furballhad finally bit the dust last year at about 23 years of age, which apparentlywas pretty old for a cat. Though she might have been older as it wasn’t fullysure how old she had been when Edge found her back in the underground.

Thinking of theunderground, it was still weird how that was just about 11 years ago, that thebarrier broke and all monsterkind was freed from their imprisonment.

His thoughtswere interrupted by the arrival of his brother, who with quick steps made hisway next to him where he stopped.

He looked athis brother, who was looking very stoic and tense as he watched the grave,holding the roses in his hand tightly, before be abruptly turned to him,reaching out the hand with the roses towards him.

“Hold These, INeed To Clean The Grave.”, Edge muttered tersely.

“sure thin’,bro.”, Red replied taking a hold of the roses, the thought of saying no justbecause running through his mind, but he decided not to for once. His brotherwas already, no pun intended, on edge.

His brotherthen stepped forward and got to work, pulling out various tools from his phoneinventory before kneeling down, grimacing slightly as he did thanks to his oldinjuries. But his expression quickly turned determined as he got to work,removing any weeds that had popped up since last time he had been there,removing old flowers and so on, while Red just stood there watching him work.

The urge topush Edge to the side and do the work himself, even though this sort of shitwork wasn’t his thing, was overwhelming. But he knew his baby brother wouldn’ttake it well, since this was his duty and all that shit, so he let it be, sinceafter all the death of his pet cat had hit his brother hard, harder than youwould expect.

Like to Red itwas just a cat, an animal, they die quickly when it comes to monsters like themwho lives for a very long time. So he didn’t really fully get why Edge wasstill so upset about it and still grieving even a year after.

A low huffescaped him, guess he truly was an insensitive arse.

Still, hehappily tagged along whenever his brother went to visit Doomfanger’s grave,spending any time with his baby brother was time well spent.

It didn’t takelong for Edge to clean the grave, since he came and visited it at least acouple of times a month, so any weeds, rotten flowers or other cleaning of thegrave was quick work. Edge got back up onto his feet with a barely hiddengrimace of pain, for anyone who didn’t know what to look out for wouldn’t seeit as Edge was really good at hiding when he was in pain.

But Red wasn’tjust anyone, and knew exactly what to look out for to notice just how muchEdge’s old injuries affected him.

Which remindedhim, he still needed to beat that fish bitch into a fucking pulp for causingsaid injuries. He didn’t care that it happened almost 20 years ago, or that itwas all done fair and square or that the bitch was still his baby brothers socalled best friend, any kind of injuries caused to his brother would get paidwith blood.  

Edge thenwordlessly reached his hand out towards him, snapping Red out of his suddenthoughts of tearing that fish a new hole. Just as wordlessly he gave him backthe bouquet of roses and Edge then quickly squatted down and placed them ontothe now clean grave.

Without Rednoticing so had Edge also put down a couple of candles which he had lit, how hehad missed that was making his sockets twitch in irritation at himself, he wassupposed to be aware at all times after all, couldn’t risk missing anything nomatter how small said thing was. Edge then stood back up and took a step back,looking at the grave his whole body tense and his expression grim.

Ah, now timefor the part which always ended up making him uncomfy as fuck.

Red seriouslydid not do feely stuff, he did not know how to handle it at all, he glanced atEdge who was standing next to him again with his arms behind his back, lookingas stiff as the stick he at times had up his pelvis.  

As ever sincethe incident, from about 10 years ago, even just thinking about it makes Redgrit his teeth in anger as he didn’t even want to think about it properly, hewas still so pissed about it.

But since thatincident Edge had pretty much become incapable of crying at all.

He was unableto cry at his shitty romantic drama’s he so loved anymore, he was unable to crywhen Doomfanger got sick due for age. Unable to cry when she eventually diedand wasn’t able to cry even at her funeral.

Thoughtechnically it was his baby brothers own fault, he had insisted on finding outthe truth, had forced Red’s hand in the name of saving Red from going insane.

He much morewould had preferred going insane than having Edge suffer as he do now, how hisbaby brother now had the highest level out of all monsterkind and now wasforced to live with it. As he did have a reason, several of them actually, whyhe had kept the truth secret from Edge for so many years to start with and thiswas one of them.

But now herethey were, Edge unable to properly grieve and cry over his dead cat, and himselfunable to comfort him because what the fuck were feelings even, all because ofthat whole fucking incident.

Especiallysince Edge wasn’t the only one affected by the incident, Red himself was nowcapable of feeling shit for other people and not just his brother. Which wasweird, as he now was able to feel shit more proper overall and he absolutelyhated it.

As things thatusually didn’t bother or affect him suddenly did, made him stop and think whathis actions and words could do to people at times and fuck did he hate it. Shitwas better when he didn’t care jack shit about anything or anyone except forhis baby brother, but apparently said brother would rather he cared about othersas well and make him a emotional asshole instead.

Which was whyhe didn’t do his usual asshole thing, like cracking a very bad and insensitivejoke, do something seriously rude like tossing the flowers he still held in hishand onto the grave which he originally had just picked up as a joke. He wasincapable of been his usual nonchalant dickish self and it was frustrating asfuck.

So instead, hedecided to do something so out of character of himself that if there was somesort of overwordly being up there, so would it have struck him down on the spotfor heresy.

“gimme yehand.”, he said to Edge, lifting his hand that he didn’t hold the flowers in uptowards his brother.

“Why?”, Edgereplied stiffly, eyeing the offered hand in suspicion which Red couldn’t reallyblame him for, he was known to pull pranks at the worst of times after all.

“jist do et,i’m trynna do a good thin’ here.”, Red grumbled back, feeling uncomfortable asfuck as he shook his hand for Edge to just take it already.

“… Fine, But IfYou Are About To Play A Trick On Me So Am I Never Letting You Come Along HereWith Me Again.”, Edge huffed after a moment of glaring, rolling his eye light’sas he put his hand in Red’s own.

“don’t worry, iwon’t.”, Red reassured him, giving his brother’s hand a squeeze. Fuck this shitwas weird but he had gotten this far, might as well go through with it.

He then steppedforward towards the grave, the two of them already standing close enough to itso he didn’t have to let go of the others hand. He could feel Edge’s confusedeyes dig into his back as he then squatted down, putting the flowers down ontothe grave as nicely as he could.

“sup, furball.”,Red then spoke, wincing slightly at how corny and touchy feely the whole thinghe was doing was, keeping his one eyelight locked onto the grave. “thanks… ferya always been there for me bro when he needed ya… an’ for been jist a reallygood cat.”

He thenpromptly got up and stepped back so he was standing next to his brother again, ifhe had skin he would swear it was crawling with just how fucking uncomfy hisactions just made him.

Red didn’t evenlook at his brother, to see how he reacted, instead he focused his eye onto arandom piece of grass. A minute or so passed before he felt Edge squeeze hishand back, making Red turn his face back up to his brother who was looking downat him.

“That… ThatWas…”, Edge began, clearing his throat loudly before a very soft smile slowlyspread onto his face. “That Was Really Sweet Of You… Thank You.”

If it wasn’tfor the fact Red had promised to chill the fuck out with his habit of taking picturesof Edge, so would he had pulled his phone out faster than his shortcuts as theexpression Edge was wearing was something he so dearly needed a photo of, so hecould look at it whenever he wanted and needed to.

But at the sametime, he felt if he went and did it, he would ruin whatever this moment wasbetween them, so he resisted and instead gave his baby brother a wide grin.

“heh, anytimebaby bro.”, Red murmured instead, before turning his face away to look atDoomfanger’s grave, Edge doing the same.

They stoodthere in silence for awhile, just enjoying the moment, until suddenly Edgesqueezed his hand again before slowly removing his own from Red’s grasp. MakingRed look up at him, resisting the urge to grab it back, but Edge was notlooking at him, his eyes still locked with the grave before them.

“Al-All Right,I Am Done Here For Today, Thanks For Coming With Me.”, Edge said with a slighttremble to his voice, before he quickly turned heel and began to walk away onthe cemetery path. “Come Along Brother, I Need To Get Back To Work Before TwoPM And I Refuse To Be Late.”

“sure thin’.”, Redreplied, but he didn’t move from where Edge left him. As before Edge turnedaway and began to walk, Red could had sworn he saw something shine in hisbrother’s eye socket.

Quickly shakinghis head so to snap out of it, he decided it was most likely just hisimagination and wishful thinking. But he grinned widely and with a step forwardtook a shortcut to catch up to his much faster brother.

[theguineapig3]

Tales Whump Week Day 1: Wounds

“Silent Treatment”

Tales of Symphonia Words: 1786 Characters: Kratos Aurion, Dirk, Lloyd Irving (mentioned)

Kratos didn't know which hurt worse- the wounds he sustained in his fight with Lloyd, or the suffocating silence he endured as Lloyd’s real father patched him up.

“You don't have to do this. As an angel, my body will heal quickly, even without treatment.”

Kratos’ words had been spoken almost as a plea when Dirk appeared with a first aid kit. Lloyd and his companions had left to confront Mithos, and Kratos’ attempt to leave and recover somewhere solitary was thwarted by his inability to stand without pain. It shot through his abdomen like receiving a punch, and he’d doubled over onto the table. The next thing he knew, he had been carried upstairs and laid out on Lloyd’s bed. Dirk was shuffling through his medical supplies, the smell of medicinal herbs filling the room and clouding Kratos’ thoughts. Dirk was saying something about internal hemorrhage and types of poultices that could help with the bruising. The scientific name Arnica unalaschensis was thrown around, and if Kratos’ thoughts hadn't been so muddled, he might have been able to identify exactly what the plant was. But with the pain, the thick haze of herbal smells, and the burning humiliation of being in such a vulnerable position, it was all he could do just to protest.

Dirk considered Kratos’ words for only a moment before he shook his head.

“Aye, that mebbe true, but Dwarven Vow 2 says ne’er abandon someain in need. Sae you’re stuck here wi’ me until yer wounds are healed.”

And for an entire week, that was it.

Besides a few single words here and there as instructions, Dirk didn't say a thing. At the beginning, Kratos didn't feel like making conversation, so he didn't mind the silence. But as the week continued, it became clear that Dirk wasn't staying quiet out of respect toward his patient. Kratos tried to catch his eyes, but Dirk was avoiding eye contact, and when their eyes did meet, the look Dirk gave him held none of the friendliness he usually expressed in his oft-quoted Dwarven Vows. It felt more along the lines of a lesser-known vow- 29, beware the anger of a patient man. Kratos didn't know Dirk well enough to assess his usual patience levels, but anyone could see right now that the Dwarf was angry.

Kratos could only think of one reason for that anger.

Lloyd.

But what was it about Lloyd? Was Dirk angry about Kratos’ initial betrayal of Lloyd and his friends? About his connection with Cruxis and the Desians? About his lies and secrecy to prevent his son from learning the truth about their relationship?

Or… was Dirk afraid of losing Lloyd now that his birth-father was in the picture?

The thought was chilling, and Kratos didn't want to dwell on it. But left with no other human interaction, the thought ran through his mind over and over until eventually he couldn't take it anymore.

“Dirk, I know you don't want to talk to me, but there’s something I need to say.”

No longer bedridden at that point, Kratos came downstairs for meals, usually eating in silence at the same table where he knew Lloyd had grown up eating. That day’s dinner was waiting for him as usual, and Dirk was at the hearth cleaning up the soiled dishes. At the sound of Kratos’ voice, he turned and looked up.

“Eat yer supper first. Ye donnae want yer food tae get cold.”

“I don't mind. This is important.”

Still holding a plate in one hand and a sponge in the other, Dirk stopped scrubbing to consider the statement. After a moment’s pause, he sighed and returned the plate to the pot of sudsy water. “Alrecht, what dae ye want?”

Kratos took a deep breath and plunged forward. “I can tell that you're angry with me. I don't begrudge you that; you have plenty of perfectly justified reasons to feel that way. If it's because of my involvement with Cruxis- with the Desians- I understand. If it’s for my betrayal of Lloyd and his friends, I understand. If it’s for my absence most of Lloyd’s life, I understand that too. But I want you to understand, I'm not here to take your job. You are Lloyd’s father. You have been for the past fourteen years and you always will be. I don't intend to come between you and Lloyd. He already has a father, and a good one at that. He doesn't need me.” Kratos stopped to catch his breath, lowering his gaze to the floor. “Once I’m fully healed, I'm going to leave you and Lloyd to live your lives without my interference. So if the thought of losing Lloyd is what’s troubling you, I want you to know that he’s yours. You have nothing to be angry about.”

There was a pause. Kratos felt his nervousness pricking against his skin, keeping his eyes glued to the floor. He had to force his head back up when Dirk spoke again, and immediately regretted it once he saw the fierceness in the Dwarf’s glare.

“Nothin’ tae be angry about? Nothin’?! This is exactly why I’m sae angry with ye! Ye donnae get it at all!”

“Wha-?”

Dirk approached Kratos, pointing an accusatory finger up at him. “I know I've nae been a perfect father tae him, but I believe Lloyd has grown intae a fine lad and I'm proud ay him. What is it about him that bothers ye sae much? Dae ye ‘hink he’s nae smart enough? That he’s tae reckless? Is he tae much of a goody-two-shoes fer yer likin’?”

Kratos took a step back, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What are you talking about? I adore Lloyd-”

“Then why are ye sae keen tae be rid ay him?”

The words cut like a knife. “Rid of him?” Kratos repeated. “I don't understand.”

Dirk stared for another tense moment before turning away and releasing a long sigh, his shoulders relaxing as if he were breathing out his anger and frustration.

“Ye… keep abandonin’ him. Ye left him behind, ye betrayed him, ye appeared only tae gie cryptic clues an’ then disappear again like it ne’er happened… ye were ready tae up an’ die on him. An’ now that he’s forgiven ye for all that ye’ve dain tae him, ye’re jist gonnae leave him?”

Kratos’ mouth hung open as he processed Dirk’s accusations. Lloyd had evidently told his dad more about his journey than Kratos realized. None of what Dirk had said was false, at least in terms of what had happened. But…

“Giving up my life was the only way to ensure that Lloyd’s group could make a pact with Origin,” Kratos explained. “I was trying to protect Lloyd, to aid him in his quest to create the kind of world he’s striving for. He’s worked so hard. He deserves that. I'm proud of him.”

“Bit nae proud enough tae stay with him?”

Once again, the room filled with tense silence. In contrast to the past few days of little to no eye contact from Dirk, Kratos now found himself under the full force of the Dwarf’s stare. It was scathing enough, but what really got to him was the realization that this had been the source of Dirk’s behavior the whole time. He hadn't been worried that Kratos would take Lloyd away from him- in fact, the opposite was true. Dirk wanted Kratos to be part of Lloyd’s life.

The fact that he had assumed otherwise sent a pang of guilt through Kratos’ chest.

“Dirk, I… I'm so sorry.”

“Sorry fer what?” Dirk asked, and Kratos realized he should have clarified.

“I'm sorry for… for thinking so poorly of you as to imagine you were jealous. You brought me into your home, took care of me even though I can heal on my own, fed me even though I don’t need to eat… I knew you were angry, but instead of asking you what was wrong, I let my wild fantasies take over.”

“I’m sorry tae. I let my anger an’ frustration gie th’ better ay me, an’ I treated ye poorly. I should hae been honest frae th’ start, scolded ye properly once ye were awake enough tae understand.” Dirk looked away. “I ken that Lloyd is a strong lad. I donnae want tae gie in th’ way ay his quest to save th’ worlds. I’m nae a fighter, I can’t gang wi’ him an’ his group. Stayin’ here an’ supportin’ him at my forge is the best thing I can dae fer him. Bit I’ve grown sae used tae his presence around th’ house these past fourteen years, I wake up every mornin’ an’ th’ realization that I willnae see his smilin’ face o’ hear his voice makes me want tae turn back o’er an’ gang back tae sleep. I miss him, an’ it’s like an awful weight on my chest ‘at makes it hard tae breathe, hard tae move, hard tae dae anythin’. Ev’ry time he comes home, I hope an’ pray ‘at he’s back fer good. It’s a selfish, unrealistic fantasy, an’ I would ne’er say it out loud tae him. Bit you…”

Kratos took a step forward to close the gap between them. “...I had the chance to be with him,” he finished, “and I didn’t. I squandered opportunities that Lloyd’s real father would’ve done anything to have. It’s no wonder he’s so angry with me.”

There was a pause, and Dirk finally allowed himself to look at Kratos again. “Ye’re nae less his ‘real father’ than I am. Dwarven Vow 162,” he began, “th’ best time tae plant a tree was twenty years ago; th’ second-best time is now.”

He didn’t need to interpret the proverb for Kratos’ to understand what he was getting at. With a smile, Kratos turned back toward the table and took a seat in front of his plate. Dirk sat across from him, motioning toward the food.

“I told ye earlier, supper’ll get cold if ye donnae eat it now.”

Kratos looked down at the meal- a simple plate of potatoes and minced meat. He’d made it clear to Dirk early on that he didn't need the food, yet Dirk had cooked proper meals for him every day despite the animosity between them. Maybe it was because of his adherence to the Dwarven vows, or maybe it was because he missed cooking for Lloyd, or… maybe…

“You know,” Kratos began as he picked up his fork, “earlier I said that my angel abilities help me heal quickly, but these wounds seem particularly severe. I may not be fully healed for a while- until Lloyd gets back at the very least.”

For the first time that evening, Dirk cracked a smile.

“That’s tae bad. I guess ye’ll be stuck here ‘till then, huh?”

“I guess I will.”

[mine-curse]

Hallo yes I am the anon

I feel like earlier on it WAS deffinatly easier to veiw Dream as just a villan, or at least in the time surrounding exile?? I think I was a little harsh in my original ask, since I was salty over shit too.. I get real salty when "tommy is protagonist dream is villan" takes happen because I feel like it misses out on a core part of what makes the dsmp special by reducing it to a more "traditional" narrative, in a way that also kinda steam rolls over everyone else's place in the narrative. Which I guess I understand the impulse to do? At least I've seen it in other fandom (and in real life lol) I just... don't agree with it haha.

c!Dream not having a pov absolutly plays a part in him being seen as "the villan", and for a while I was really worried the story would go in that direction, of just using him as the evil villan that everyone would eventually unite against. Especially when the prison arc was starting I was worried the narrative would end up swinging in a more prision-system-justificationy direction, purely in the name of catharsis. And I still sometimes see people who want it to go that way??? Which uhhh... you do you, catharsis is catharsis, but I am very glad that is (probably hopefully) NOT where things are going.

Though I wasn't around for Exile and didn't feel particularly inclined to go back and watch all of it once I'd felt like I got the jist, so I am deffinatly baised in general, I probably would have more animosity towards c!Dream if I had. (Side tangent: With both Dream and Tommy though I have another weird issue where I'm not particularly a fan of cc!Dream (don't hate him just don't care much for him one way or the other) but I have come to like c!Dream more and more, especially with how his stuff with Ranboo is (hopefully) going down. But while I think cc!Tommy is neat and fun to watch, im just like... not the biggest c!Tommy enjoyer? And I do think a not insignificant ammount of that comes from how he's interpreted and presented in fandom... (I could rant about that but its... a lot))

I do think a lot of people strongly identify with c!Tommy, and with c!Dream's abuse that does cause a lot of the unwillingness to see c!Dream as anything other than a villan... I can't say i don't nessecarily have similar "i relate" blinders for c!Techno. Though in that case I think it does come down to me being like "yeah countries and systems of power are bad and we should get rid of them".

On the countries note, Yeah Wow Agreed it is also wild to me how c!Wilbur was so successful, that parts of his plan worked on a mass meta level, and continue to work... even though half the time he was monologing about how he was manipulating everyone around him to gain power... I guess he also did a lot of talking about how important everyone was to him, and that was probably true, but like, you can still convince yourself you're doing the right thing for people you genuinely care about while also knowing that its going to benefit you more than anyone else.. and is also the kind of thinking that a lot of people who have and seek power seem to hold. Which is why it was compelling to me... cc!Wilbur does such an engaging performance, and I think he also plays into the fluid nature of the cannon to cast more doubt on his characters intentions, so it really shouldn't be to surprising that people are still sure he was mostly in the right... I'm allergic to countries, and I already knew c!Techno was gonna be coming in hot with the anarchy when I watched Wilbur's vids, so I think that also was an advantage(???) I had on not really buying into l'manburg and c!Wilbur's actions as something that was supposed to be "correct".

BUT YEAH, THE ANIMATICS

(I also think fanfic plays a similar not insignificant roll in this sort of thing as well)

ESPECIALLY THE ONES FROM THE TIME WHEN SBI WAS MORE CANNON

PEOPLE LOVE TO PULL AT THE BROTHERLY HEARTSTRINGS

I AM NOT IMMUNE TO BROTHERLY PROPAGANDA

BUT, its deffinatly an exaggeration (or fabrication in the case of techno lol) of the good brotherly elements...

Same with the Ranboo (+Dream) ones! Though its an exaggeration of the horror/control elements which may or may not just be part of c!Ranboo's catastrophizing. I have a feeling in this case it happens more because its fun and impactful to visually portray a character being manipulated by another, or having an "evil side". And it becomes a game of telephone where people are creating cool visually striking fanworks based more of other cool visually striking fanworks, either because its your impression of something with cool visuals and music is stronger than the source material, or you never saw the source material...

I really don't think I've ever seen something where fan works have such a strong impact on widespread fan interpretation... (like maybe warrioir cats but I think that's more because whats actually in the books is not the most solid when it comes to characterization, outside of a few mains....) I think with dsmp it does have a lot to do with not everyone has the time or desire to watch everyone's hour+ streams everyday... so yeah, its really easy to let your interpretation be colored by others... especially if that interpretation resonates more with you emotionally or what you expect to happen...

I know different interpretations of a work are generally enriching and cool... but c!dream villan interpretations is like how to tell me you only watch Tommy without saying you only watch tommy.... which would be fine but its not a great place to be making statements about the whole nature of the dsmp lol

Wild speculation, but sometimes I wonder if like, because the dsmp didn't really start as a narrative, and a lot of fans don't nessecarily enter it expecting a narrative, but then there is one and the fandom is really discourse heavy and everyone is sort of excpeted to have an opinion while maybe not expecting to form one from the begining or not having a ton of experience with narrative in a way that would "expect" them to have an opinion or not take things at face value??, I don't know if I explained that well at all... and I don't really even think thats right nessecarily... but like wow sometimes some of the takes about power and government and villany...

Honestly, it makes sense!!!

I think something interesting is like.... looking at how animatics have shaped the like tone and culture of the fandom essentially. Like, an interesting fact that I didn't really fully grasp until SUPER recently is like...

c!Wilbur out the gate admits he is manipulating c!Tommy. Like his first youtube video on the Dream SMP he admits his goal is to manipulate c!Tommy and people like c!Tommy into helping him achieve a potion ("drug") empire to monopolize on potions because there were a lot of people on the server who like to min-max, which is to put all of your effort into this one specific skill essentially. so like... i know minecraft doesnt have a skill tree but if it did, it would be putting all your points into that one specific branch of a skill tree. So he wanted to exploit the labor of all the TommyInnits to.... maintain a Potion Empire.

THIS IS A LONG POST BC I GOT CARRIED AWAY SO BUCKLE UP

And I don't think a lot of the fandom who joined later on knows this. I certainly didn't until like a week or so ago? Like... I knew c!Wilbur had been manipulative from the start because I'm a mod of (shameless self promo incoming) @dsmpanalysis and we have a lot of different POVs in that mod team and discord and we talk about it really frequently. I joined the fandom as someone who was really big on L'manburg ESPECIALLY crimeboys, and have turned into.... *gestures vaguely to my blog*

And ngl I owe a lot of it to @1-michibiki-1 in terms of c!Dream "Apologism" but all of the mods there have expanded my thoughts and views on the storylines of this narrative.

My application consisted of like largely essays about like... how I think Dream was the villain but he was meant to be the villain because you don't get any insight into his character WHICH.... IS A FAIR ASSUMPTION AT FIRST GLANCE. People are easily villainized when you cannot get a glimpse into their thought process. It's easy to dwindle someone down into this flat character and starting out I knew Dream didn't stream the SMP on purpose.

And I personally came to the conclusion of "Oh! So Dream is supposed to be the villain." However as the story continued and I learned more about what Dream went through I began to realize that... it's more than likely a form of a red herring. My opinions on this were immediately solidified when I watched Ranboo's 2 MIL stream because both Ranboo AND Dream agree on enjoying red herrings.

There have been MANY times were Dream has said that c!Dream is a complex character and he's not a wholly evil guy and there have been times where the narrative has honestly just proved that.

Anyways, what's important though was that... I learned most of this from other people who were more focused on c!Dream rather than myself. Eventually I shifted from c!Tommy to c!Ranboo and c!Techno after c!Tommy betrayed c!Techno and I began to realize.... everything I learned before hopping in wasn't exactly what it seemed.

Part of this is because I'm older, I heavily identify with c!Techno's sense of loyalty and philosophies on government, but I especially identify with the anguish c!Techno voiced in... a lot of lore but especially the lore around Doomsday.

I'm not 16 anymore. I don't always feel wronged by adults, or older people in my case, whenever they absolutely have done something wrong by me, but I do feel wronged by my close friends. I also felt like c!Tommy's sense of loyalty didn't line up with mine after what felt like him constantly flip-flopping and refusing to understand c!Techno's morals on government didn't line up with his.

In short, it was easier to identify with Tommy in these animatics versus in the actual stream content because c!Tommy is played by a 16 year old. I'm not a teenager and my line of thinking doesn't entirely line up with people that age anymore. It's harder to place myself in the same shoes of someone's OC who is played closer to their actual age, because I'm not that age.

Regardless, I was still on the c!Dream is a villain train. I wasn't ever like... c!Dream is repulsive I hate him, but I was like omg hot villain lad go brrr.

Even when the first like... mellohi, panic room, Ranboo lore stream popped up I thought "Oh! c!Ranboo corruption arc?"

And I was excited because I really wanted this shy, nervous character to turn into villain buddies with his good pal c!Dream. I'm a total sucker for villains and corruption arcs and all that good shit.

SO I STARTED GETTING REALLY INTERESTED IN ENDERSMILE. I'VE BEEN ON ENDERSMILE SQUAD OUT THE GATE. NOT THE SAME WAY I AM NOW, BUT I'VE ALWAYS WANTED THEM TO TEAM UP.

So... upon not really keeping up with c!Dream and being relatively??? indifferent? I don't think I started arguments on c!Dream back then, but I might have. But I remember like... starting to participate more whenever c!Dream came up and looking more into Dream's character BUT ESPECIALLY TALKING WITH OUR SERVER'S C!DREAM SPECIALIST MICHI ABOUT DREAM A LOT MORE.

And because Michi has been a watcher since day one and was a DTeam fan rather than a SBI fan, she was able to provide me with more information on how the server worked pre-Tommy but especially pre-Wilbur.

Now, you could definitely argue well Michi probably has clear bias but it made sense to me when I looked back on how the storyline had been constructed and was going along, and everyone in the server talks a lot about our own biases and how we want people to maybe not lean so hard on them. Michi would also provide like anecdotes on what had happened and I'm sure links were probably provided at one point but the point was I felt like Michi had no reason to lie or manipulate how the story was told and if she did, eventually someone would have pointed it out because... Group of like... right now it's around 20 or more analysts but I don't remember how many at the time there were. POINT BEING, WE'VE ALL GOT POINTS TO PROVE AND IN MY EXPERIENCE NOT MANY OF US HAVE BEEN SHY TO PROVE THEM.

So if anyone ever had any differing opinions they would be talked about and we literally had and still have discussions.

REGARDLESS.... I DIDN'T FACT CHECK IN DEPTH BECAUSE I THOUGHT PEER REVIEW WAS ENOUGH WHEN YOU HAVE LIKE HOURS UPON HOURS OF STREAMS TO WATCH.

Anyways. Eventually I started paying closer attention and looking more into c!Dream lore but only recently have I started to triple check before speaking about c!Wilbur lore because I know everyone has biases and while I did trust everyone's thoughts and analysis in the discord, whenever I make essays I typically like it to be largely air tight and if theres a mistake, I want it to be because I forgot not because I just trusted what was said. Plus, I wanted to get down to the specifics of how Wilbur had always started with manipulation on the mind.

SO I WATCHED HIS FIRST VIDEO ON THE DREAM SMP.

AND WHAT I WAS NOT BY ANY MEANS EXPECTING WAS WILBUR TO SAY WORD FOR WORD, VERBATIM,

"SO WHY DON'T I START AN INDUSTRY WHERE I USE THE TOMMYINNITS OF THE WORLD TO WORK FOR ME, TO CREATE THINGS THAT THE MIN-MAXERS OF THE WORLD WILL WANT."

Like... this is in no way an attempt to like hardcore villainize c!Wilbur like everyone does Dream, it's just more so to like REALLY outline how far off a lot of fandom interpretation of c!Wilbur is....

Because of SBI focused animatics.

Now, when I joined I watched A LOT of animatics that really highlighted like... Wilbur being this self-loathing JD-esque, "I destroyed it because I had to because the world was against me because no one loved us, Tommy" type of character. At least... that's what it came across as.

And it definitely highlighted the fact that Tommy was a victim, which he is. He is undoubtedly a victim and no not even any dream apologist can change my mind otherwise. Tommy, despite being an instigator sometimes, didn't deserve the abuse he received.

But these animatics never shown the fact that c!Wilbur started L'manburg as a shady ploy to exploit people like c!Tommy and vilify c!Dream so he could have power.

And that was easy because Dream and Tommy had wars before. They had spars and pranks and here's the plan to take back my disks and here's the plan to out smart the thieving little child etc etc.

And all of the animatics I watched never mentioned this. Neither did the recaps though. The recaps gave the events flat out, there didn't sound like there was bias, and honestly I don't really know if there was rather than like... a lack of nuance. And it's hard to provide a recap with that much nuance in a short period of time for a youtube video, to be perfectly fair.

However, this creates a perfect formula for entirely rewriting the history of a server. c!Wilbur quite literally fucking succeeded TO A META LEVEL. He slandered and ran smear campaigns against Dream and like he even does that with Sapnap in the beginning. But what's crazy is that it transferred over into the meta! Most of this fandom understands Wilbur as a victim of mental illness, and yeah maybe? He definitely wasn't mentally well by the end of pogtopia, but he never started out with honorable intentions. L'manburg was never a victim, only its citizens. The TommyInnits of the world.

I just think it's like... such an interesting case study. Because this is like... an opinion like shared by at least half of the fandom, but the vilifying of c!Dream is shared by MOST of the fandom I would argue. Which is like even more crazy for me because that was c!Wilbur's goal!!!

LIKE I GO INSANE WHEN I THINK OF THIS BECAUSE HIS REACH IS JUST TOO POWERFUL. HE'S NOT EVEN ENTIRELY REAL, JUST A MANIPULATIVE PERSONA OF SOME BRITISH GUY.

And I mean... maybe people who have watched Wilbur's video on the SMP still maintain this idea that Wilbur wasn't always the bad guy, but honestly... I wouldn't be surprised if their introduction was still an animatic. Like bias is hard to check and I'm not going to lie I could have sworn I watched both Wilbur's AND Tommy's video on the SMP in the beginning and yet I STILL was a ride or die for tragic yet on some level still honorable Wilbur and a resilient Tommy.

Like... upon watching Wilbur's first video... possibly again I was surprised because I thought I did watch it like right before I even started watching the streams and yet I was still so invested in c!Wilbur as this tortured anti-hero.

It took 6 months of... not being in an echo chamber, full of multiple different people of different ages, different stream POVS, and people who joined the fandom at different points in time.

IDK IF THIS WAS EVEN ENTIRELY RELEVANT IT JUST FELT TANGENTIALLY RELEVANT AND THIS WAS SOMETHING I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT FOR A HOT MINUTE AFTER LIKE WATCHING WILBUR'S FIRST VIDEO AGAIN.

TLDR;

SBI CENTRIC ANIMATICS HAD A LASTING AFFECT ON THIS FANDOM AS IT'S HARD TO GO BACK AND ACTUALLY CHECK THE NARRATIVE FOR SOLID FACTS FOR YOUR OWN INTERPRETATION BASED ON THE FACT THAT THIS NARRATIVE SPANS OVER HUNDREDS OF HOURS WORTH OF TWITCH STREAMS.

[misshowel-blog]

The Blue Wolf - Chapter 1

Two months have passed since the Bellwether conspiracy was uncovered. The resilient mammals of Zootopia eventually settle back into their old lives, their old ways. A new mayor is appointed through a fairly mellow election; Aurelina Canidae, an honorable former councilwoman. The city felt secure with such a friendly, chubby wolf as their mayor, especially with how she instantly began working towards a long-lasting unification between predator and prey. As for Nick and Judy, it was business as usual. Judy had been showing Nick the ropes and the pair of them had been continually working minor cases and solving them fairly effectively. Things were going smoothly. The rings on the surface had faded. The pebble had sunk to the bottom, never to disturb the river again. As they say, a river always corrects itself.. ..Unless it freezes over.

With a twitch of her nose, Judy was flipping the page of a file folder she was currently holding. Leaning her cheek heavily in her paw, her eyes skittered across the page, taking in the information as quickly as possible. It was the initial statement from an ox who'd stolen someone elses' car and then crashed it into a public fountain and she wanted to make sure she'd read it properly before questioning the ox. Every day happenings in the bustling city of Zootopia; she'd for the most part gone numb to the stupid antics of Zootopians. Last week, a group of teenagers had in the middle of the night gone out, bought a dozen pumpkins, carved them and practically screwed them onto street lights. Her eyes rolled with a small amused smile at the fleeting thought. Nick had swept in from the cafeteria into her cubicle office, holding two cups of coffee, smirking as he slid one of the cups towards her. "Thinking about the pumpkin massacre?" A snort of a laugh left the bunny and she leaned back in her seat, a cheeky smile aimed at the fox. "How'd you even know that?" "I know everything Carrots, you oughta know that by now." He teased, parking his butt on her desk, leaning back on one arm as he took a sip of his coffee, as relaxed as usual. Judy let out a puff of air through her nose with a smile, putting down the folder. "Oh yeah?" There was mischief in her voice as she moved to sit on the back rest of her chair, her paws on the actual seat. "Then, what's my favorite color?" She could hear a swig of coffee almost going down wrong for the fox in a brief splurt. Nick's eyes narrowed as he gave her a side glance of pure contemplation. A silence fell between them, and she could swear that if she were to look in his ears, she would've been able to see cogs turning. "Blueberry?" "Nick that's your favorite. Not even color, just favorite fruit!" "Okay, orange then!" Nick proclaimed, throwing out his free hand in a bit of a fake 'I don't actually care' gesture. "What's with you and fruit colors?" "Now that you mention it, heh, orange. Isn't that weird? It's not like we call 'yellow' 'banana' or something stupid like that." Nick took a sip of his coffee, taking his eyes off the bunny for a moment. However, the silence made an ear of his swivel towards her, his eyes soon to follow. Judy had the worst pokerface. She was sipping her coffee, looking away, acting as though it was raining. Only thing missing was her whistling a tune and the bad-pokerface-trifecta would be complete. "Really, yellow? That's your favorite color?" He huffed out a chuckle, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly, trying to hold back a smirk. "Actually" Judy dragged, an absent-minded paw stroking back and down one of her ears. "It's more like, amber?" "Huh. The more you know." Nick took another sip of his coffee before taking the folder and opening it up, his eyes scanning the pages. "You questioning the car thief today?" "Yeah, you wanna sit in? I had to sit in with the other officers before I got to question suspects on my own." Judy smiled at her friend. He'd come a long way in a short while, she was actually kind of jealous at times. Nick always had such a roll-with-it attitude. "Puh-lease, Carrots. If anyone needs to sit in, it's you, with me. Watch the master in action" He'd placed a paw against his chest like some posh, old-fashioned noble. "and maybe you'll be a real cop one day, like the great, invincible, detective Wilde." Judy swiftly snatched the folder back from him, flipping it in under her arm, jumping off her seat and getting to the doorway in one fluid motion. Leaning against it, she smiled up at the smug fox. "Oh yeah? Well, I'd be honored if the great, invincible detective Wilde could show this poor, inadequate bunny the ropes." "Will do. Now," He slid off the table, patting her head as he passed her, heading towards the cafeteria. "I shall show you, my feeble pupil, how to trick Clawhauser into giving away all his afternoon doughtnuts." The rest of the day flowed on like every other day. Clawhauser lost his afternoon doughnuts, only for Judy to convince Nick to give them back. There was a press briefing with the new press manager Rosalind where all officers currently in the building were present. Nick sat in when Judy questioned the ox about the incident, who was then formally charged. Bogo asked for a report on his desk before five. Things kept rolling. Once he'd clocked out, Nick got out of his uniform in the locker room, getting into his casual getup of a shirt, tie and trousers. One glance left, one right, then a swift lick on his thumb before he brushed it across his badge, making sure it was glistening before he placed it on top of the perfectly folded uniform in his locker. This was a different kind of pride. He'd always thought himself good at what he did, and he'd always thought himself proud, but oh how wrong he'd been. This was what real pride felt like. To be able to walk straight, head held high, to be able to look other mammals in the eye and feel truly equal. Heaving a content sigh, he clicked the locker door closed before heading outside. Judy was working late, otherwise they usually grabbed a bite to eat before heading home to their separate places. Or to the same place where they'd hang out, watch movies and talk bullshit about life in general. It was a good life. A completely new life. Or.. Not completely new. After walking a couple of blocks and taking a turn into an alley, he slammed his paw against the side of the familiar, graffiti-covered van. "Ey Finnick! You awake?" He could hear a groan, a shuffle, a clank and some choice swearwords. Nick shifted his weight onto one foot, contently waiting until Finnick finally opened the door. "Get in." Nick's brow furrowed and he climbed into the van, which Finnick promptly shut behind him. "Hey hey hey, what's the grim look for?" Finnick was moving swiftly, checking the windows before making sure the curtains were pulled properly. Then he shot a glance at the confused red fox. "I know you ain't rolling with our kind no more, but-" Nick huffed and rolled his eyes. "Finnick come on, that's not-" "Shut up Nick. I was gonna say, but, I'mma do you a solid. 'Cause we're friends. You're a wanted fox, Nick Wilde." "Eh, Finnick, I'm a cop now. I'm pretty sure I'm not wanted, or Bogo would've told me." There was a smug smile pulling at those lips of his, something that made Finnick's whole face scrunch up in an irritated, frustrated look as he grabbed his friends' tie, pulling him down to eye-level. "You're wanted dead, Nick, this ain't no fucking joke!" Finnick snarled out the words, a concern hidden beneath the apparent anger. Nick stared at his friend, blinking as though that would clear his own confusion. Then his puzzled expression shifted into a concerned frown. Noticing the changed attitude, Finnick let the tie slip through his fingers, the anger seeping away to leave room for more concern. "The hell did you do, you dumb fox? You got Alexei looking for ya!" "Volkov?" Was all Nick managed to get out. "Yeah, Volkov. The Alexei Volkov!" Finnick's entire body language was demanding answers, he was not going to let Nick leave before he knew everything. "There I am, down in the tundra corner club aight? And I hear these yak idiots talking 'bout getting massive cred with the big bad wolf if they took you down!" Nick's paws went up, moving as if pushing the air as he shook his head. "Okay, wait, slow down. Wait." Straightening out, his paws subconsciously went up to stroke back both of his ears, dragging heavily down his neck and lacing together behind it. "Okay, this might be a problem." The twitching tail behind Nick was evidence of his mind working a million miles an hour. "What the hell did you do, Nick?" Sucking in a deep breath, the red fox slumped down onto the floor of the van, his tail sweeping restlessly. Why now. What could possibly have pipqued the wolfs' interest again. It'd been so long, he thought Volkov had simply cut his losses. "You want the long story or the short version?" Finnick let out an unimpressed snort, sitting down opposite of Nick. "Give me the jist of it." Nick sighed, scratching idly at the back of his neck, clearly reluctant to revisit the memory. His mouth opened a couple of times, sucking in air but failing to produce any words. A snort snort later, Nick finally cleared his throat and began talking. "A few years back, before I ran with you, I ran with this badger guy. Heck, can't even remember his name. Anyway, he always had jobs for me, they came from someone else." "So you were running blind errands?" "Yeah, well, sort of. It wasn't like we were running catnip to and from the rainforest district. Nah, this was heavier stuff. Sabotage, mostly. Money was good." Finnick had moved to open up a bottle of whiskey, pouring Nick a glass and offering it to him. Grasping the glass, Nick took a generous swig. It burned down his throat and a shiver ran through him. Swiping the back of his hans across his nose, he sucked in a short, sharp breath though it. Letting out a light cough, he swirled the amber liquid around in his glass. "One day" He continued, clearly not looking forward to telling the rest of the story. "This guy I've been doing all this, stuff with, comes to me. With a plan. We were going to do this one job - super simple job, he told me -to get the attention of Volkov. It'd be our ticket to wealth, to infamy. Our ticket out of the gutter." Nick forced down another swig of whiskey, barely tasting it before it heated his insides. "He told me to get two tanks of gasoline. Fine, I thought. I mean, we'd burned cars before, I didn't think much of it, other that it had to be a, really big car, or something." He swallowed a burp and then cleared his throat. Finnick rolled his eyes. "You're an idiot." "I was, at least." "Sure, was..." Finnick grinned before shifting back to a more serious expression. "So, you what were you actually gonna burn?" "An apartment." Nick's gaze lowered to his glass, back to the amber liquid, for a moment recalling that this must be Judy's favorite color. It managed to make him smile, if only for a brief moment, before the story caught up with him. "So we're there... Escape plan ready, gasoline in hand, and I'm dousing the floor, the furniture, the stove... All while thinking of the money, the street cred, the bragging rights... That's when I hear it." "Hear what?" Finnicks' large ears were perked straight up, eyes fixated on his friend. "A yawn. It was faint, but I heard it. I told the guy I was with, this would be murder. There's a mammal in the apartment." The grip on his glass tightened, the ridge of his nose scrunching up ever to slightly. "He just hissed at me to not screw this up for him." Ears flat against his head, his tail was almost curling over itself in relived anger. "So I did the first thing I could think of when I saw him pull out the lighter. I screamed fire, I screamed it as loud as I could before I took off. Like a coward. I just, ran. To save my own hide." His posture relaxed as a sigh slipped out. "Sure, thanks to the warning, the guy got out in time. Fire department got there quickly, the fire didn't even have time to spread to another apartment. The guy I was with got arrested, took the fall for it." "Why didn't he sell you out?" Nick jerked his shoulders in a lackluster shrug. "He did. But I went by the nickname Pib back in those days, he didn't know my real name. The evidence of me being there had burned, and I'd gone deep, deep underground." "And then you turned up later as a small-time hustler." "Yeah... No big, risky business for me. Pib was dead." "Shit Nick.." Finnick's sharp anger was all but gone, a mix of worry and disappointment swirling about in his voice. "Yeah.. I know." "You know what Volkov does, right? To mammals who wrong him?" Nicks' gaze lifted from the glass to fall on Finnick. "I'm a dead fox." "Not first. He's gonna go after those you love." The severity of the situation finally sank in. It wasn't just his life on the line. Alexei Volkov was notoriously sadistic. That was part of why he'd gone so deep underground for so long after the incident, he knew if he got caught he would've faced unimaginable suffering. Now that all seemed trivial, facing the very real risk of it not being him on the receiving end, but instead someone he cared for. Someone like Judy. "I can't let him take Judy!" Nick had leapt up onto his feet, the glass clinking against the floor of the van, spilling what little was left in. The thought of the sinister wolf having someone as kind and whole-heartedly good as Judy in his filthy, blood-stained paws, it was enough to get his blood boiling. "Over my dead body is he harming a single strand of fur on her body!" "Easy!" Finnick grabbed Nick by his wrists, yanking on his arms to get his attention. A low rumbling growl could be heard from the agitated fox, but once Finnick dug his claws into Nicks' skin, he snapped out of it. "What?!" "Calm, your, fluff." Nicks' tail and neck fur was standing on end in anger and he had to take a few deep breaths in order to simmer down. He needed to think clearly about this, he couldn't do anything useful in a fit of rage. "There we go. Now, 'bout this knee-deep shithole you've jumped into like the idiot fox you are," Nick rolled his eyes with a snort. "Geez, thanks." ".. You gotta think 'bout this. Aight?" "Yeah." Nick relaxed and Finnick finally released his wrists, which Nick instinctively rubbed. For such a small fox, Finnick sure had an iron grip. "They probably know 'bout you knowing Judy. But they probably don't know how well you know each other." "What're you getting at?" "Dude, you gotta ditch the fuzz." "What?!" Nick snarled out the words, he'd just gotten a good life. He had a good thing going, with a really good friend, he wasn't about to give that up. "She's as dead as you if you keep hanging 'round! They got their eyes on you now. For whatever reason, your fox ass in on their radar!" Finnick almost drilled his finger into Nicks' belly, enforcing his point. Nick groaned and tugged at his ears, his mind racing to find another solution. Then, a pause. His ears slowly began to perk up as he drew a slow breath, eyes staring into nothingness. "I need to take him down." The words were but a whisper in a breath. "Excuse me?" "I need to take down Volkov." Nick appeared as though he'd just had a vision or something, slowly straightening out, his brain working more effectively on what to do now that he'd calmed down a smidgen. There was even a hint of a smile twitching a his lips. "And how the hell are you gonna do that? He's got an entire empire at his back!" Finnick had folded his arms, tapping a paw against the floor of the van, a bit irritated with how simple Nick was making this sound. Taking down a crime boss like Volkov was nothing one did in an afternoon. "Don't know yet," Nick held up a finger, a strangely excited look in his eyes. "But I will. Volkov won't even know what hit him." Nick smacked his hands together in a celebratory rub, grinning. "Oh, he is not going to know what hit him." "Nick! It ain't gonna be no afternoon stroll y'know! This is a dangerous mammal, he will kill you!" "And he'll kill Judy if I don't stop him." Nick locked eyes with his friend, the glee suddenly exchanged for a determined look. "I will not, let her be harmed." His fists were clenched, as if expecting his friend to try and stop him. Finnick raised an eyebrow as he looked Nick over before heaving a sigh. Once Nick got an idea in his head, it was no use arguing with him. "Alright, fine. But don't involve me. I warned ya, that's all I'm gonna do. I don't feel like being flayed alive." Moving to open the back of the van, the fennec fox held the door open for Nick to get out.  "Ya'll are welcome back once the coast is clear. I ain't gonna risk my hide." Slipping out of the van, Nick offered his partner in crime a quick salute with a slanted grin. "No worries partner, I got this." With a roll of his eyes, Finnick slammed the van doors shut. Meeting over. Nick turned to leave the alley, heading back home with a lot on his mind. Behind him he could hear the engine revving, and throwing a quick glance over his shoulder, he could see it driving off. Most likely out of the city. Finnick had always been keen on the phrase 'better safe than sorry'. He was most likely not going to be coming back for a while. The thought gave him pause, and he turned around to watch the colorful van drive off into the distance. A friend was leaving their home because of him. If he wasn't careful, a friend could lose their life because of him. Looking at his hands, he frowned slightly. How was he ever going to solve this? He was but one fox. He was clever, but these were way deeper waters than he'd ever gone into before. There wasn't much choice though - if he involved Judy or the ZPD in the investigation, so many things could go wrong. For one, he'd have to admit to being an accomplice in an attempted murder through arson. Two, it'd be the same as painting a nice, big bulls-eye on the ZPD and Judy in particular, if he opened an official case about Alexei Volkov. Even the mere thought of the name sent an unpleasantly cold, almost heavy shudder through his body. He'd heard plenty of stories of Volkov to know that he was not one to be trifled with. Even the Big family couldn't touch him - and they practically ran all of Zootopia's underground at one point in time. Now, he had no idea. Volkov could have slowly slithered into the city's power structure, leeching from it without notice. Who knew how far he could've gotten in these past years. Eventually, Nick noticed that other mammals were looking at him funny, as he was just standing on the sidewalk, staring into space. The van was long gone by now; most likely for the best. Scratching the back of an ear, he turned to head on home. There were no two ways about it; in order to ensure that Volkov wouldn't target the ZPD or Judy, he most likely had to get himself fired. The next day, his phone rang early as usual. As soon as he heard the familiar Judy-assigned tune, a knot as heavy as lead weighed in his stomach. Grabbing his phone, his thumb hovered over the swipe which would answer the call. He found himself simply staring at the joyful image of Judy on his phone, almost forgetting to breathe as his ears flattened against his head. This wouldn't feel good. It wouldn't even feel justified. However, it was the only way. Here goes. Sucking in a deep breath, he swiped his thumb, accepting the call and raising the phone to his ear. "What." There was a moments pause from the other end. "Oh, geez, did the fox wake up on the wrong side of the bed today?" It already felt terrible, but he had to stick to it. "You know I don't really like it. You, calling this early." "What? Oh, well.." He could hear her worried hesitation, and it stung. "I, was just calling to check if you'd want to grab a coffee before work!" It was apparent that she had to force her usual peppy voice. "No, I don't want coffee. I need to get ready for work." With those words, he hung up, smacking the phone down on his nightstand and burying his face in his palms with a pained groan. That didn't feel like trying to save his friend, that felt like being an asshole to the one that least deserves it. Stroking his palms over his ears, he fell backwards onto the bed with a grunt. "I can't do this." It felt hopeless. How could he continue? She wouldn't understand that it's for her own good. Dragging his palms over his face, another but louder and more frustrated groan left him. "Nnnngh but I have to! What's me being a jerk, compared to her being dead? Nothing!" Nick threw up his arms as though he was having an argument with the ceiling before they slumped back down onto his chest. Sighing deeply, he glanced over at his phone. This was going to be harder than he thought, but he had to stick to it. Getting dressed took far longer than usual. So did eating breakfast, and brushing his teeth. Perhaps he was postponing the inevitable. He had to be an ass, at work. How did one even get fired from the ZPD, without actually committing a crime? He didn't want to go down that road, he'd avoid it as far as he could. Looking about his apartment, he couldn't help but smile. Judy had been there just the other night. They'd eaten tacos and played video games until they both passed out on the couch. Judy had woken up underneath the couch cushions; apparently sleep-burrowing is a thing bunnies do. It was kind of cute. Sighing shortly, he turned and got out, locking the door behind him. Nick always took the bus to work. Two separate bus lines, but it got him to work in just under half an hour. In between the two lines, where he got off to switch, there was a coffee shop. That's where he and Judy got coffee in the morning, at least every other day. Now, he barely dared to throw a glance that way, and instead directly got onto the next bus. He needed more time to prepare for the day. Time always seems to slip away, when you need it most. "There you are, you little foxy!" Clawhauser greeted Nick with enthusiasm, leaning over his desk with his chin in his palms. "Did you and Judy have a fight?" Nick rolled his eyes, Clawhauser was a bit too into gossip to realize when it was appropriate to be excited by it. "No. Now get off my case, fatso." Heading directly to the locker room, Nick didn't look back at the somewhat distraught cheetah. Burying his hands in his pockets, he marched on to the locker room, avoiding eye contact with all and any he happened to pass by. Usually he couldn't wait to get into his uniform. The badge was as shiny as he'd left it the day before, but now, it almost made him feel ashamed. After all, he was nothing but a crook. That was the entire reason why he was having to behave this way. He'd just hurt Ben's feelings, only because of his own past, which was coming back to haunt him. "Okay, here goes." He'd never felt less worthy of wearing the proud uniform and badge of the ZPD, but still, he had to face the rest of the day this way. Heading towards his cubicle office, he thought about if maybe being an incompetent ass could be enough to get fired. He could file his paperwork all wrong, he could forget to read the rights, he could compromise evidence on accident.. "Hey, Nick, hi..!" He snapped out of his train of thought as Judy's voice reached his ears. For a moment, he just wanted to tell her everything, ask for her help, and tell her how sorry he was for being a jerk. Once that initial instinct had passed, he let out a short snort, crossing his arms over his chest. "Hi. What do you want." Judy withdrew her previously waving hand, holding it to her chest for a moment. "Nick, what's wrong? I'm sorry if I woke you-" "Look, I ain't got all day, fluff. What do you want?" Judy wore a concerned frown as she looked up at her friend, her ears drooping behind her. She didn't know what'd gotten into him, maybe he was just having a... Really bad day. "Well, uh, oh!" She raised a finger with a smile, trying to stay her cheery old self. "Bogo says there's a string of vandalism all around the city and he needs some cop to look into it. I got Tundra Town, you in? Like old days, investigating in the freezing cold!" "No." Judy blinked a few times, tilting her head slightly to the side, taken aback by the response. "No?" Her voice was hesitant, as though she was bracing herself. "No. N-O. Are all bunnies dumb or is it just you?" Nick snorted with disdain and headed on past her. 

"Go find someone else to freeze their fur off." Judy watched her friend and partner walk off with a look of disbelief. This wasn't at all like him. Was he sick? Why was he acting like this? Her nose was twitching involuntarily and she eventually had to rub her palms over her face and give herself a light smack on the cheek. "Am I dreaming?" Pinching her skin, she could indeed feel pain. "Nope, not a dream." Her ears perked back up, watching the hallway through which Nick had walked away from her. She didn't really know how to feel about this. Hurt by his obvious insults? Shocked by his sudden change in attitude? Or worried, that there could be something more serious behind this. Narrowing her eyes, there was a look of mixed emotions in them, but with a definite amount of determination. "I am going to find out whatever's gotten into you, you dumb fox." 

[mandaabsher0505-blog]

Drugs and relationships part 2...

Okay so to keep on with what i was writhing, I was the poster child for anti drugs... I raised my nephews like they where mine sender i was 12, i took on my grandma's responsibilitys as a goose wife for two years when she had her knees replaced, on top of working full time and going thru- finishing up school with a 4.0....I had no time in ny life for drugs or boys who did them.. Than I got older and I took a vacation for a few weeks was the plan, to Wasgington State where my mother and brother was. I had just lost my job and was getting over taking vicodins like one takes breaths.... And so last minutes i went wheb my sister decided she wasnt going to go and the tickets where already bought.. Well thise few weeks ended up being years and years, approximently 7 years...

While in washington I meet a man who brought me back to pills, to oxys and perc. 30s this time. And then once they where no longer enough he bbrought me to heroin... See i knew all about the meth side of drugs cause thats what my family delt with. But no one warned me what pain pills where and if a doctor was who gave them to you than they cant be to bad for you right.. I had no idea it lead to heroin and the distruction of yourself and your life.. But thats exactly what it did..

I stayed with that man for 5 or 6 years.. We had t wo beautifuk babys, who the first a little girl, was born addicted to pills, than the second a baby boy, addicted to hsroin.. I had my girl for the firat two years of her life, the best two years of mine... Without to. mmmmuch details, the fathers mother, thought she was doing the right thing and didnt realize what she was doing woukd destroy me and leave me turnning to dope to help me cope with the lose, called cps on us after she kicked us out amd made us himeless amd claimed we abondanded our baby..

So now i was left on the streets in a state where my brother was in prison, my mother left and went back home to cali and i had no one... And i couldnt go back to cali leaving my baby so I found a hustle, panehandleing at the airport( made 100-300$ a day) and lived on the streets.. At one point had a tent off pac highway in this little forest area.. That was the. Good thing about washington, so many trees and forest like areas even in the citys.. And pac highway had a bus going up and down it all day and nighy with a few places open 24 hours like a mcdonalds and a taco shop where i would stay at all the tine if i wasnt at the airport making money and getting high.. Where i got pregnant again and this time it was dificult as hell. Byt thats another story for another day....

Well i eventually came back to cali to vet sober and i was for 5 months until i ran into a guy down here who i asked to never bring me around heroin.. And thats the first thing he did.. So i had found it here now and felt i had no where safe to hide from this.. And right than my boy friend- father of my kids had left me and I was dealing with that and not having my kids at all,couldnt visit or anything with. Them now.. That i feel right back in.. And have been down ever sense.. Going on 5 years now. And now i have turned to escortting to pay my way and my habits.. And. Shit has just got much more complicated so much worse.

I am now going five years with this other man who i now have two kids with and its a new leavel of love- hate.. I have never been with someone who can speak to well so kindly one moment, i love you cant live without you.. Your mine blah blah and than literally a few minutes later after nothing has happened except in his fucked off mind, now im a whore and he hates me and i m a huge piece of shit who isnt worthy of him and his kids and. He cant believe what i do to make money i must not love him.. But he doesnt do anytbing to get me to stop.. Doesnt make any cash himself or get a job or i dont have to do this... But uts all on me and im a piece of shit somedays for this... Its just so fucked up.. But we r jist as addicted to each other as we r our dope.. It suchs so hard. Leaves a person who w as once so strong and had the world going for them, to a piece of shit loser who doesnt even want to look at themselfs in the mirror anymore..

Anyways ive got to go get ready for another cilent.. Talk to u all later

[princeyogurt]

Real Ghosts

Ghost stories seem to follow me wherever I go. I've heard a lot of them and I've been through a couple myself. Whenever I am getting ready to tell a few to a new listener I usually start with something I read in a book by Glen Grant. This is the jist of it... Why do we get chicken skin when we hear ghost stories? You tell a funny story, nothing. You talk about the traffic, nope. Perhaps you get a tickle here and there but never the same chill down your spine that you get from something scary. There is a good reason for this. It is said that whenever you tell a ghost story, nearby spirits will gather around to listen. The chill you feel is from their presence. As for many things when dealing with supernatural tales, you'll have to just take my word for the fact that I've had 'experiences'. But spend some time allowing me to explain how I was able to convince myself that these things actually happened and maybe you'll believe in my ghosts too: Friend: http://www.blumhouse.com/2017/03/20/this-footage-of-a-morgue-door-slamming-by-itself-is-the-creepiest-thing-youll-see-today/ I mean, chances are it's not real. But it's pretty rad. Me: Right around 1:08 the flashlight goes right over a fishing wire looking string in the hinge of the door. Otherwise, it's a cool story. If I had created this gag, the door and lights would have been less repetitive and more randomized. Also, I would have given them one good jump scare right when they got up close to it. Gotta bring it a little harder. Nice effort though. I am the last person that wants to discredit a good scare, but this one was rather obvious. I'd be happy to share a video that I believe to be genuine ghost footage if that sort of thing interests you... Friend: Yes pleassssse Me: https://youtu.be/g428ZB1KrgE It doesn't seem like much... but I have my reasons. Friend: Do tell Me: This is a clip from Syfy's 'Destination Truth'. I watched this show religiously. Not because it was any good. Let's just say it was on my queue. (I watched all the ghost shows.) I actually found the host to be a real jerk to people in other countries and seemed to be blatantly acting (poorly, at that) when reacting to "events". Total fake show, but a good time waster none the less. This episode (Season 2, episode 11) in Aokigahara Forest was different however. Aokigahara is a Japanese forest famous for people commiting suicide... a 'haunted forest' from the description. You've probably heard about it. If not, Vice did a good documentary on it. There is manga and movies related to the subject as well. Located under the shadow of Mt. Fuji, It is a well known and troubling fact that it is the second most popular location in the world to commit suicide. The first being The Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. People go there, camp out for a few days and find a place to end their life. It is believed that the forest became morbidly romanticized as a suicide spot in a popular novel called 'Kuroi Jukai' (roughly translated: Black Sea of Trees) where two lovers commit joint suicide together. The forest is also infamous for being very easy to get lost in as the trees grow thick and twisted on an uneven landscape and it is a massive area. This is a genuinely creepy place. Here is a very informative article on the subject for your purusal... http://lifeforaforest.com/tag/kuroi-jukai/ Anyways, back to that ghost show. There is a scene where the host told the camera guy to stop filming just in case something too inappropriate for t.v. was found and he proceeded to go further into the area. Just prior to this moment, they had found an abandoned campsite containing some personal belongings including a wallet and some other effects. This is typically a bad sign because that means the occupant may have come there to die and had since left the area to do so. It also suggests that the caretakers of the forest haven't been to this spot to clean up the area. So at the time of filming, the crew were probably the first to discover this campsite. The host seemed to suspect these things but proceeded anyway. When he returned to the cameraman, the look of fear on his face was troubling. Sickly and ashen... totally at a loss for words. They didnt say what happened, or perhaps didn't have the heart to, but it seems to me that he saw the dead body of a recent suicide. This was the first time watching this show where I saw the host showing a genuine emotion. Besides further discrediting every other episode he ever did, it was very revealing and intriguing at the same time. They headed back immediately to their base camp seemingly ready to just be done filming for the night. The act was over. They were way out of their element. While all this was going on, one guy was left alone back at base camp. He had set up a ring of cameras in a clearing to get a view from all sides of himself in the center. I think this was in part because they knew they weren't alone in the forest, having encountered some college students with headlamps that were on an exploration to find dead people... for fun. So having cameras pointed in all directions while being by yourself must have given some comfort in a somewhat hazardous situation. He was already dead silent and bug-eyed with anxious attentiveness staring into his screens looking for any sign of movement... when he saw the ghost. As he captured that footage he looked paralyzed. He just gawked. Once again, genuine emotion... fear. The video clip I posted above begins when the host and crew are returning to the base camp. The host says it was freaky out there and the guy at base camp says he caught something weird on the camera. They all watch and watch it again. It is a white misty figure, as the video description says, that seems to rise up out of the ground and sit back down until it dissappears. I believe the cast were all genuinely shocked during this filming and that the footage is also genuine. I say this not because I am easily convinced of this sort of thing, because I am not, but because I have seen this same phenomenon with my own eyes. I usually would have simply brushed this off as a camera trick or fx... but watching this ghost on film reminded me of a personal experience. Upon my first viewing of this episode, I was just as terrified as the people on the show. It validated something I had partially written off as an over-active imagination. Something broke inside my head and made me say to myself, "It was real." Having this knowledge thrust upon myself was troubling. I will explain why this had me so shaken up and why anyone reading this should be wary, especially if you've had an experience similar to mine. (The video isn't the best quality so I highly recommend watching this from a dvd or a good stream, you can judge for yourself after you see it more clearly. But for now, hear me out.) Long before I watched this episode, I was working at a little coffee shop at 225 Bush St. in San Francisco. Since I worked there the location has gone through many different companies. However, there is still a coffee shop there in case you're in the area and wanting to see it for yourself. It was a very tall, beautiful, art deco style building which is a common thing in S.F. Besides having to walk through the empty foggy streets during the small hours of morning to open shop... the store itself wasn't that weird. The basement, however, was a bit ominous. This may not seem relevant, but I want to explain a little about the San Francisco underground as I have some random first-hand encounters with it. As far as I know, I have never met anyone really knowledgeable about the underground passages beneath the streets and old buildings. Having lived and worked there my whole life, you'd think someone would have broached the subject once or twice. Maybe the lack of knowledge is because a lot of buildings built after the big earthquake just walled up the entrances and the new tenants just never saw them. It's kind of an enigma to me and it makes me believe my experiences may be somewhat unique. My late cousin was always getting involved in these weird tech start-ups in the 90's when the internet was still experimental. These companies would buy out large historic warehouses, get them up to code, and set up shop for a few years. His endeavors were always way over my head, but getting to walk around these dingy time-capsules before construction had started was interesting. This one building in particular had a large lower level that stretched underneath the sidewalk. You could see people's feet passing overhead in the ceiling where these little glass circles were laid into the street above. Another level down was the basement. This is where it got strange. It looked like a normal creepy warehouse basement. Dusty, dead rats, poor lighting... etc. While I was fascinated by each illegible scrap of century old paper, my cousin didn't seem very interested in the museum of debris. He wanted to show me something the rest of the crew hadn't seen yet. We walked around a few dark corners and he flicked a lightswitch on inside an old storage closet. Behind some mildewy boxes was a hidden door that led into some weird underground tunnels. He said he hadn't gone inside but said it had been locked up for a long time and he was the only one with the key. Not knowing much about it, he had held off exploring it, at least until he had some good flashlights. You could tell he had thought a lot about it already. The entrance was covered by a ratty piece of wood with rusty hardware and was slanted at an odd angle. It had tiny, uneven steps leading downward. The inside was dark and the clay-like cement seemed like it was shaped by hand. I saw a path that just disappeared into nothing. As I pondered into the gloom, the worst feeling came over me. Where the rest of the building was just a bit old and dirty, this room was just menacing. I couldn't explain the bad feeling... it was an overwhelming dread. Eventually my cousin asked if I was interested in checking it out with him when he got more equipment. He seemed uncomfortable asking his co-workers and was anxious about going inside alone. I said it wasn't an ideal afternoon getaway and refused. He locked it back up and we went to lunch. I forgot all about that day until a decade or so later when I was on a date in the city. I was shopping with my lady for Christmas decorations at a fancy ornament store. A friend had told me about a nice cheese shop nearby and we walked over to check it out. It had been a long day of exploring the city, and we anticipated a bit of traffic on the ride home so I decided to ask about a restroom before going back to the car. An employee pointed me in the right direction... behind a curtain at the back of the store, down some stairs to the only door on the right. As I headed down, I was about to turn the knob into the bathroom when a dark sensation washed over me. All of a sudden it felt like someone had turned a furnace on full blast. There was no vents anywhere which meant it was just my nerves. Wondering what was causing me to have such a fearful reaction, my eyes became fixated on the path in front of me. The stairs kept going down at an odd angle past the bathroom door. I followed them out of pure curiosity about my fear. It was uncanny... the odd shaped doorway, the tiny stairs. It was an entrance to the underground. It had to be. Seeing this freaked me out badly for some reason. Everything was painted nicely and they probably just modified it to have a cold cellar for wine or whatever. But, hell... I couldn't wait to get out of there. It was a very, very freaky feeling. I left the store on wobbly legs. My lady was perplexed by my behavior but I couldn't shake off the anxiety until I was well away from the store. Once we were in the car I explained what I had seen and how it reminded me of the basement in my cousin's building. We both agreed it was a little strange but we both ultimately shrugged it off and headed home. In the past, I had been prone to panic attacks and would occasionally get an eerie feeling that someone was watching me when I was all alone. I had gotten very used to these events and had adapted myself to gain control of my emotions. I would also see shadows that looked like people. These would appear in places like inside windows and dark, cluttered areas, mainly just out of sight. A part of myself had learned to just ignore it and attributed them to day dreaming and anxieties. Just don't focus on it, I'd say to myself. I would not let my emotions overcome logical sense. It was normal. But, no matter how good I became at being able to just go about my day without paying attention to these things, they still persisted. If any of this seems like something you've also experienced... please pay attention. So, at the coffee shop on Bush st. I was the opening manager. While the barista prepared coffee and pastries, I did the inventory and grabbed supplies for the rest of the day. This place was small, no office, no equipment room. Therefore, all the supplies were stored in the basement. The only way to access the basement was with the freight elevator. I'd have to ask the security guard to buzz me down and he would just silently regard me with a curt, brooding nod... and off I went. For some awful reason, every damn time, the elevator had to first go up one floor and then proceed two floors down in order to get to the basement. To this day I still think it was just the security guard having a bit of fun at my expense. Pressing an extra button out of boredom, sending me to the 2nd floor... what a goof. But then again, maybe the elevator was just wired funny. Perhaps he always pressed the right button, but it just did what it wanted to. That explanation makes me think that his somber nod was more out of concern than out of complacency. Remember, this was usually around 5am, the world was still dark and the 2nd floor was darker. Every time the elevator door opened onto that stagnant, unoccupied hallway, it felt like an infinity before the door would close again. My panic sense always perked up in those moments. In my head, over and over again, I imagined a pale corpse-like hand catching open the door at the last second, bringing me face to face with unknown horrors. Trapped and insane with fright, the unnaturally elongated arm approached... This obviously never happened, but you see how an overactive imagination works now? Happy thoughts, right? When finally proceeding to the basement, I was usually laughing at myself. The basement, which was very clean and well furnished if not a little plain, opened up to a small U-shaped room that attached to an open hallway. From there it split off for about 100 ft. in both directions. It was dimly lit only from the glowing exit signs near the elevator. This left deep stationary shadows at either end of the long halls. In order to get to the storage area I had to walk about 25 ft. into the dark hallway and turn left into an unlit room which served as an employee area: large kitchen area, locker room and some storage closets. Once I flicked on the light in that room, the gloom dissipated and I could finally see where I was going. At some point in the future, I would love to tell you how that manual light switch would randomly fail as I took a few steps into the employee lounge, thrusting me once again into complete darkness. And about the little black figure with long hair that poked it's head out from the locker room doorway and stared at me while trying to unlock the storage room. But, so many stories... so little time. What really bothered me was that first long hallway I had to walk down. Whenever I walked into that hallway I felt that someone was there with me. A real 'eyes on your back' tingling feeling. Absolutely no one was in the building at this hour, but nonetheless, I had a vivid, lurking presence of eyes watching me intently. Having a little experience with this sort of feeling and trying to stay rational, I surmised that I could have easily just been freaking myself out. I am a decent skeptic. The qualities of a good skeptic when dealing with the unknown require that they will always question and seek out the truth, while never, ever discounting the possibility of something actually being paranormal. In other words, stay open-minded but don't blindly believe either. If you maintain this mentality, the truth has a way of letting itself be known to you. As I had trained myself to do over the years, I made a conscious decision to not look directly at the spot where the feeling was coming from. I did this for weeks. Until one day... curiosity got the best of me. I couldn't shake the possibility that something ghostly was actually staring at me from the end of the shadowy hallway. It was an instinctual feeling... a survival mechanism. Every morning when I passed it to grab supplies, it nagged at me. This particular morning, I was feeling a bit brave. I just casually decided to poke at the unknown and see what I would see. So... I paused. Standing dead still, I slowly craned my head upward and looked into that shadowy corner... ...and it looked back at me. Huddled in that corner was just a simple shadow. A shadow I had seen dozens of times. I knew it's shape and it's hue. But as I stared, something primal clicked inside of me, I felt it acknowledge me. Then it moved. I stood perplexed as the huddled mass rose into a small, vaguely human figure... then a tall dark figure... then a dark figure towering all the way up to the ceiling. Fear. Just fear. I don't remember walking to the elevator doors, I only remember mashing the buttons and praying that door would close as fast as possible. My ears rang and my heart struggled to keep up with my breathing. I imagined that the door would open to the same floor over and over again. I felt the shadowy thing growing larger and larger as it came down the hall. It was beyond terrifying. The elevator worked optimally, at least my body pressed the right buttons at the right time whether or not I remembered pressing anything at the time. I emerged out of the ghastly vacuous unknown and back into the real world. Once back in the store I told my co-worker that we didn't need any cups today, but if he wanted to go get some then he was on his own. I gave him my key. I got over the incident rather quickly. Like I said before, I wasn't wholly convinced I had actually seen anything until watching that episode. The white figure in Aokigahara Forest could have been a carbon copy of my ghost. That is why I knew it was a real ghost. I tried to avoid the storage room until there were people around and the lights were turned on. I never looked into that corner again though. Months later the store got shut down for district-wide downsizing. On the last day my manager (now my close friend) told me the store was haunted. I had never told him of the wierd things that I had seen prior to that point. I almost slapped him for not telling me sooner but he explained that he didn't want to scare me, having lost employees in the past due to strange events. I got him to tell me everything. Before I started working there, his now girlfriend and another girl were closing the store. After setting the alarm, they stepped out in front of the large store windows to chat. When they glanced inside the store, a man was standing behind the cash register smiling at them. They were rightfully creeped out and called the cops. With police escort they re-entered the store. The alarm was still engaged and there was no one inside. The cameras didn't show anything either. They found nothing. The girlfriend changed stores soon after that and the other girl quit the next day. There was also the guy who's position I took over. He was eating his lunch in the employee lounge when a soda can rolled to his feet from the locker room when he was eating lunch. He figured it just rolled off of a shelf back there and he dutifully put it back on the shelf and returned to his meal. A few minutes later, the can quietly rolled back to his foot. He ended his lunch early and eventually ended his employment. My boss said that he had a similar thing happen to him in the break room. He was sensitive to spiritual things but didn't want to be, which is one of the main reasons I believe him. He also had had the lights turn off on him randomly. At that point I told him about my experiences. We became fast friends after that. This experience opened my eyes and taught me to trust my instincts. The subconscious is a powerful tool that helps you decide things without you realizing it. It can save your life. I have since recounted all of the times I had been brushed by the supernatural and found validity over and over again. I cannot with certainty convince myself otherwise anymore. This is just one story of mine. I can only imagine what awful thing lived in the tunnels my cousin found. He never spoke of it again to me. But I know he must have gone down there... This is my warning to you... Believe or don't believe, but if you have no intention on coming face to face with the unknown... please do not look outside of your peripheral vision. Do not focus in on the spot that the feeling is coming from. But if you do... if curiosity overcomes you... perhaps you'll have your own ghost story to tell. And I'll be waiting to listen to them. Be safe out there in the unknown good friends.