#i still have a letter i wrote her two years ago that i never gave her

[calypsocolada]

MISO SOUP AND SWEET POTATOES | g. tomioka

(click here for part two!)

synopsis: you're tasked with convinicing Giyu to join the Hashira Training author's note: hello. this was a days worth of writing. from 11 am to 3 am. i even wrote parts in my notepad at work. i really like how this turned out. i finished the hashira training arc last night and think that final episode might've been the best episode of anime i have actually ever seen. this is a whole ass story cw: slightly suggestive, major spoilers for rengoku and the hashira training arc, character death, gore, ANGST, fluff, happy ending, not proofread, fem reader, use of y/n a lil, lover!giyu, hardheaded!reader wc: 6.3k

click here for my masterlist

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“Would you mind talking to Giyu for me? So that Giyu, who tends to put himself into a negative frame of mind can start looking ahead again. Will you be persistent in your efforts to speak with him?” 

You stared at the letter. You reread it again and again and again. Your body still aches from the previous fight in the swordsmith village and you sort of hoped this was a hallucination. That you were still unconscious. But as your crow beside you squawked and you jumped you knew it was real. The paper crinkled beneath your hands. Kagaya’s handwriting is flawless and script. You followed the trail of his pen again. 

Would you mind speaking to Giyu for me?

You wondered if maybe this letter was accidentally sent to you. Even as your eyes wandered back up to the top of the paper that clearly said ‘Dear Y/n’. Even if it didn’t say your name there were no accidents with Kagaya. 

But… but there had to be. Out of everyone, all the Hashira that were certainly closer to Giyu. But you, the newest Hashira, had been chosen to speak with him? In what world did that make any sense? You barely knew the guy. Granted he had been the reason you joined the corp originally but he’d dodged your very presence the best he could ever since. 

Your village had been attacked about four years ago. Same old story for a lot of people victimized by demons. There was never a happy ending with those monsters involved. Always blood. Always loss. It was no different for you. Half of your family was slaughtered before you could even rouse yourself from sleep. But when you did all you saw was the inkblots of blood on your white walls, the color shining from being hit by the moonlight. You remembered sitting up and feeling numb as you heard someone screaming. The scream that never left you. Something you’d never be able to ingest for as long as you lived. 

When you got to your feet your mother had busted into your room. She looked pale, blood gushing from beneath her white nightgown. She scooped you up and kissed your head as she stuffed you into the closet. She shushed your cry’s and told you not to come out until the sun shone beneath the crack in the door. She gave you one last kiss. You didn’t know then it was the last. You reached for her but she pushed your hands back, silently shook her head then pressed the door closed. 

You’d always been a good kid. You stayed put exactly as you’d been told. Even as you heard more screams. Even as it went quiet. 

Only until that sun shone beneath your door did you move. You busted out of that closet. Your mother’s name is the first thing on your lips but she wasn’t the first person you saw. The scene in your house was horrific to say the least. The sights of the people you loved in multiple torn pieces is something that comes back to you in flashes when you fight demons. 

It spurs you on to do exactly what they did to your family back to them. To tear them to shreds. 

In the middle of it all was a boy. He was sitting so still that you didn’t even notice him amongst the slaughter. Your living room was still dark, dark enough that it kept this monster safe as it rose to its full height. No longer a boy but a creature from your deepest darkest nightmares. It had your family’s blood on its mouth as it smiled a wickedly devilish smile. 

“Hmm. Missed one.” It spoke in a gravelly tone as it swallowed whatever it was chewing on. You could guess what. You stepped back into your mother’s blood… or maybe your father’s? The blood, thick beneath your foot slid out from underneath you and you crashed into their bodies, something sharp sticking into your side as you gasped in sudden pain. Your mother’s hand still gripped a knife that had now lodged itself in your thigh. The demon only laughed. “Clumsy one aren’t you. Mother wasted her time hiding something so useless.” He growled, approaching with a predatory gleam in his dark eyes. 

When he pounced towards you something momentary took hold over you. You, a measly twelve years old, ripped that knife from your own leg and thrusted it into the demon's eye. The creature roared like nothing you’d heard before as it stumbled back away from you. You just blinked as you watched it, numbness contending with your fear. The creature yanked the knife out and tossed it angrily to the side. It growled, fuming as it charged back at you. You raised your hands to defend yourself, screwing your eyes shut. You heard the whoosh of something cutting through the air itself and when you opened your eyes the creature had halted its assault. It locked eyes with you moments before its head toppled right off its shoulder. You stared in abject horror as the creature's body started to burn a blood red color and you saw a figure behind it. You were as still as a statue as the figure behind  it took shape. 

The shape of a boy, he couldn’t have been much older than you. Eyes an indigo blue, dark and almost unfeeling as they met yours. You watched as he gave a quick swipe of his sword to rid it of the demons burning blood as he sheathed it back at his side. 

“Are you hurt?” He asked, his voice young like yours. You weren’t hurt. Somehow. And you couldn’t open your mouth to answer him, not with your body still on top of your parents. You just stared at him, even as your eyesight got cloudy and stinging tears slid down your cheeks. 

The boy walked towards you and remained still, unable to move as he bent down in front of you. He reached and clumsily brushed the tears from your face. It was as if he knew you wouldn’t part your lips to speak because wordlessly he, with immaculate ease, picked you up off the corpses and carried you out of the house. You moved for the first time in minutes as your head tilted to look back towards your family. 

“Eyes on me.” He said and sure enough your eyes snapped to him. To take in his face. Eyes endlessly dark blue as they stared forwards. He had to have been your age, maybe a year older. He had the shape of a young face, with full cheeks and raven black hair to the nape of his neck. You couldn’t look away, it had nothing to do with his looks but everything to do with his command. 

You were a good kid. When someone told you to do something you did it. Years later you would come to thank Giyu for that, for commanding you to look at him instead of glancing back at what remained of your family.

Everything after that was just sort of a blur. You stayed some place warm, a faint fire flickering and that boy with the sword stayed with you until some men in black uniforms found you. You remember not being able to walk, the shock and grief of the night not letting you. You’d held onto your saviors shirt, your fist balled. He let you, in fact he even came along with you and the men in black and when they asked you to let go you blinked at them. You hadn’t even noticed you were still holding on. You let go in an instant. Your hand is sore from how tightly you’d been clenching. The men in black’s hands were on your shoulders guiding you away and when you looked back your voice came to you. 

“What’s your name?” You asked, everything paused for you so you could hear his answer. 

“Giyu.” He answered. You put a name to his face. You parted your lips to thank him but nothing came out again. You couldn’t say thanks. Not when you were the only breathing because you cowardly hid in the closet. You felt you didn’t deserve to be thankful. You met his eyes again and something, somehow, told you he understood. He gave you the softest nod of his head and when he turned to leave you felt your heart drop. Like something had bonded you to this boy. But you turned and let yourself be whisked away. 

A year later you worked for the very same people as Giyu had. You were given a sword and trained thoroughly by a man with red and orange hair. You weren’t ever good with names but the fire in him fueled the fire in you. Which is why you eagerly learned that breathing style and trudged up that mountain to crush the selection test. 

A few years after that you ran into Giyu. You were sent on a mission to help the Water Hashira. You’d never met any other Hashira besides Rengoku so you were sort of apprehensive. You never liked meeting new people. All those years spent with Rengoku and his fiery personality you wished at least some of it had rubbed off on you but… you were still demure and quiet, quick to anger and prone to disappearing. You liked your alone time. You had all but begged Rengoku to let you go with him in his mission, apparently some demon had infested a train, that sounded far more exhilarating than helping some water Hashira you didn’t know. Rengoku did what he always did when you were disappointed. He gave you a sort of unwanted hug, though secretly you wanted and needed it, and ruffled your hair. 

“We’ll see each other in two weeks. Next mission is yours and mine.” He said and then he was gone and you were boarding a train going the opposite way. 

When you arrived, stepping off the train your eyes met the same indigo blue eyes from so many years ago. When you were both kids. Now both adults. You stopped where you stood, unable to walk any closer as everything fled back. Stuff you had managed to keep down deep for so many years. Memories you wanted to erase. All that time wasted and drudged back up in mere seconds. Giyu may have had those same eyes but he was grown now. His hair longer and tied back, his face had lost that boyish roundness. He looked tall and lean. Well at least taller than you. For a moment he looked just as surprised as you but he smoothed over that emotion into something practiced. 

“It’s you.” He said, his voice deep and soft. You swallowed, your hand resting on your sword. 

“You’re the water Hashira?” You asked and he nodded his head as the train behind you dinged and slowly pulled out of the stop, the wind brushing your hair over your shoulders. 

“You’re Rengoku’s tsuguko?” At that you nodded your head back at him. His eyes trailed to your sword, to your haori, and old one Rengoku had lent you. His eyes lingered on that fiery pattern.  

“I never learned your name.” He said and then his eyes flicked to yours. You swallowed dryly, you weren’t sure why he made you so nervous, why your heart was beating so fast. You wondered if he was a part of a life you wanted to die off. The scared girl in the closet was far from who you were now. Rengoku never got to meet that scared girl. No one had. Except Giyu. You told him your name and he repeated it, as if feeling how it felt on his own lips. Your heart skipped a traitorous beat at the way he spoke your name. It felt different coming from him. You grabbed ahold of yourself.

“Shall we?”

But your mission with Giyu was cut off with the sudden death of Rengoku. You and Giyu hadn’t made it back to the village before both of your crows had delivered the news. You still remembered everything about that moment. Giyu walking beside you, your haori catching a gust of wind, cold wind, as if winter was coming. You could replay your footsteps on the dirt road. The distant flapping of wings growing closer and closer and then stopping as they landed. Your initial glance over at the water Hashira before the delivering of the news. The ripple before the crack in your soul. Giyu had been present for the worst two days of your life. Something about losing someone again that felt like family irrevocably broke something in you all over again. This pain you felt before today you wondered for years if it would last. Rengoku had healed some of it. And begrudgingly and foolishly you let him in. But now you have your answer. This pain would last forever. You couldn’t even cry, you just stared blankly ahead, just as you had in your dark house wrecked with the stench of blood. 

You felt a hand on your shoulder, you didn’t want to look at him.

“Go, I’ll finish the mission.” He said, his voice different, there was a coldness before but now only warmth. You still didn’t look at him as you turned to leave.

“Be careful.” You choked out before taking off in a run back towards the train station. 

You’d seen Giyu a few times after that but only in passing, never long enough to start up a proper conversation though both of you hated talking. You never let anyone else in after that. You took up the position of Fire Hashira and the only thing fiery about you was your utter hatred for demons. The other Hashira were sort of weary of you and that kept them at a distance. You only talked when absolutely needed and was the first to leave after Hashira meetings. You liked that distance. You’d do anything to keep it. There was only so much heartbreak and loss you could take. You were at your limit. You didn’t have room for anyone in your scabbard dying heart. 

That’s why receiving that letter from Kagaya had caught you so off guard. He of all people knew who you were and still he asked you for a favor. Probably a dying wish. He had shown you kindness and since it was the only thing he’d ever asked you for, reluctantly, you found yourself at the front of Giyu’s home. It was cold out as your knuckles rapped against the wooden door. You waited, stepped back and looked off to the side, expecting to see Kagaya’s crow lingering around somewhere to report back to him. A minute had passed as you gave one more series of knocks. Nothing. Maybe he wasn’t home. You sighed and turned to leave just as the wooden door clicked and was pulled open. When you turned back those striking blue eyes met yours. There was skepticism on his face as you swallowed. That feeling that met you every time you saw Giyu never seemed to fade. That persistent speeding of your heart. That faltering of words. All highly inconvenient.

“Y/n?” Giyu spoke first, pulling the door open just a tad more. He was in casual clothing, he looked as though he may have just woken up.

“Giyu. I never knew you lived in this part of town.” You lied. You knew. 

“It’s quiet.”

“I can see.” The lack of noise was slightly unsettling, only the rustling of leaves in the wind could be heard. You swallowed. “May I come in?” Your voice was slightly strained and didn’t at all sound like you wanted to do that but to your detriment Giyu moved to the side. Giyu’s home was a reflection of himself. It was clean, almost sterile, with dark walnut furnishings and dark curtains. He really must’ve been sleeping because he reaches over and flicks on a few lanterns, casting an orange glow to his living room. 

“I wasn’t expecting company,” He says over his shoulder and you almost agree.

“Unwanted?” You ask and when he shakes his head ‘no’ you relax sort of. 

“I’ll make us some food. Did you travel long?” He asks as he leads you towards the kitchen. You take a seat at the kitchen island and watch him get to work. 

“Yeah. Long train ride.” You answer as Giyu nods his head. You know he’s probably dying to know why you’re here but you're sure if you told him things would turn sour. You watched Giyu gather ingredients and supplies, he was very orderly about things, kept things nice and clean as he prepared dinner for you both. You had a lot of experience cooking growing up with Rengoku, that man could eat and eat. Just at the thought you felt a pang and forced your face not to show it.

“Do you need help?” 

“That’s alright, you rest.” Giyu intones, setting a cup in front of you as he fills it with hot black tea. You thank him, wrapping your hands around the warm mug. You stare down into the tea for a moment and realize you had no idea how to go about this little favor Kagaya had asked of you. You barely spoke with anyone, you were well out of practice. How genuine would this ask even be coming from you? 

“How’re you?” You asked, not letting yourself be embarrassed by your lack of social skills. Giyu flicks on the stove.

“Do you really want to know?” He asked over his shoulder and stupidly, because he wasn’t even looking at you, you nodded your head before clearing your throat and speaking.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.” You hoped that didn’t come out as sharp as it sounded.

“I’m… well. Thank you for asking.” Giyu answered, his monotone answer at war with the words he spoke. He sounded anything but well. You remembered the last Hashira meeting. You remembered Giyu’s back turned as he said, “I’m not like the rest of you.” Unlike Sanemi you didn’t feel angry at that. In fact you knew how that felt. To feel unwelcomed and wanting it to stay that way. 

“If you’re well then I’m well.” You said and when Giyu turned, his eyes meeting yours, you felt a flash of how you saw him that first time. You blinked it away as he turned back.

“I didn’t think… you of all the Hashira’s would be the first to visit.” Giyu said, turning back to the stove. You stared at the back of his head. 

“Me neither.” You said with a soft sigh. “But here I am.”

“Here you are.” He says, his voice soft again. It did funny things to you. Funny things that only he could elicit. It was frustrating.

“Giyu…” You trailed off, unsure how to broach the subject. “Did something happen? To make you not want to help out with the Hashira training?” Giyu was quiet for a long moment. You watched him stir some stuff into the pan and for a moment you thought he hadn’t heard you. 

“Can we not… talk about that?” He asks almost kindly. But that’s all you needed to talk about. If you didn’t stay on topic you’d be doing Kagaya a disservice, though could you count that as a hardy first try?

“Of course.” You answered, fiddling with your hands. You’d left your sword back at the inn you were staying at and wished you’d had it just so you could fiddle with something else. “Though, I apologize but, I almost wish I could sit it out too.”

“Why’s that?”

“Training a bunch of snot nosed kids sounds like hell to me.” You spoke truthfully and watched Giyu;s shoulders rise and fall quickly, almost like he was maybe laughing, but he still wasn't facing you so you wouldn’t know.

“Not a fan?”

“I had my fill with the three from the swordsmith village.” Tanjiro, his little demon sister, Nezuko and Sanemi’s little brother Genya. All a handful. But very capable in a fight. 

“How’re your wounds? I… never got to ask.” Giyu says as he reaches for some seasoning, finally turning to the side to face you.

“Scarring up.” You said and Giyu nodded his head, his eyes drifting to the scar on your cheek.

“Two upper ranks. If anyone could handle them I knew it’d be you.” He says with a sort of gleam in his eye. 

“Can’t take the credit. That red head kid killed one of ‘em while MItsuri and I held off its body. Muichiro took one by himself.” You recounted, the fight honestly felt like it would never end.

“You and Kanroji worked together?”

“Surprising, right?”

“Not at all.” Giyu answers. “You two are very alike.”

“In what way?” You almost laughed at that statement. 

“Strong, fierce, never quit.”

“I think we all have that in common.” You say and Giyu gets this look in his eyes as he turns back away. You feel as though you lost some ground. You chew the inside of your lip. Clearly Giyu doesn’t feel as though he had that in common with you. Something ignited in you. A need to say something on your mind. “Giyu… I-- I never thanked you.”

“Thanked me?”

“I’ve… wrestled with it for a long time. How to… go about it. Kyojuro used to tell me to practice with all the people we met. To thank them for stupid things, like holding the door open or bringing me food. Just so the words didn’t feel so foreign. But I never really felt thankful for you saving me. I lived because my whole family died. Because I hid.” You take in a shaky breath. You’d never talked about this stuff out loud, not even with Rengoku. You felt embarrassed suddenly, shaking your head, you forced out a choked laugh. “Nevermind. I don’t know what I’m saying.” You felt his eyes on you but you forced yourself to keep looking down at your warm tea. As long as you stayed like this maybe he’d move the conversation along to something else. You cursed yourself for ruining the mood, if there even was one to begin with.

“You don’t have to stop. I… I would like to know more about you. I… always have.” Your eyes shot to his like a gun hitting its mark. Those dark eyes, you could swim in them. Get lost in them. Those eyes… could make you feel something. That made you shoot to your feet, your tea spilling over. Giyu didn’t startle, he just turned to grab a rag but when he turned back you were halfway to the front door. He dropped the towel on the table. “W-wait, Y/N,” He called to you but when he rounded into the living room the front door slammed closed. 

You fumbled outside, steps clumsy as you started to run and run. You didn’t want to think about it. You had to get away, as far as those legs of yours could take you. You could run to the next town over, retrieve your sword in the morning and never speak to the water hashira again. Never again. Favor be damned. What you felt was dangerous. That kind of thing left you the hollow husk you were today. You preferred this safe loneliness. You couldn’t ever be hurt again. You stopped for a moment, the cold air tough to run in as you huffed and puffed out condensation clouds.

“You’re fast.” You hadn’t even heard his approach. You didn’t turn, just swallowed.

“I- realized I have something to do in the morning. Can’t stay out late.”

“Come back, Y/n. Please.” His voice was doing that soft thing you body liked so much. You clenched your jaw, if you could stab your heart you would.

“Can’t.”

“Why? And… tell me the truth.” You heard him walk a bit closer. Please, you thought, just go back home.

“Maybe you’re right. What you said at the last meeting, that you’re not like us other Hashira. Maybe I just realized it.” You wanted to hurt him, it was a common defense you used quite often. 

“And?”

“And I’m wasting my time speaking with someone who’d rather sit on the sidelines.” You spat over your shoulder. That’ll do it, you thought, that’ll get him to leave. It was quiet, heartbreakingly quiet and you were too much of a coward to see the hurt you caused so you started to walk away towards your inn.

“I… don’t care if you hate me.” You stopped walking instantly and turned, Giyu looked stricken, as if you slapped him. You regretted turning around. “You can hate me all you want. Yell at me, hit me, whatever you want to do. But I need you to know… you might regret me saving you but I have never regretted saving you…”

“Giyu,”

“Please… let me.” He straightened slightly. “I… am amazed by you.” His words hit you like the sharpest sting. Like a knife in the gut that slowly twists. “You’re incredible, nothing ever could rival you. You… lost so many yet you fight with purpose. I could never be like you.” You tense your jaw, eyes sharp. 

“That’s where you’re wrong.” You take a step towards him. “I am hateful. I don’t have a purpose to fight anymore I just do it because it needs to be done. You don’t know me at all.”

“Maybe I don’t. But… I want to.”

“Why?”

“I’m not succinct.” Giyu sighs, as if tired. “I just do.” Want to know you. You stared at him and that traitorous heart of yours, that naive heart did another flip. You shook your head. 

“You don’t. No one does.”

“Rengoku did.” Your eyes lit like fire, some heat filling your soul. You wanted to yell at him for saying his name. For bringing him into this. But you’d done it first. 

“He’s dead. They all are. My whole family. I don’t want to know you. I don’t want you to know me. I want you to go back home and let me be.” 

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Maybe for the same reason your eyes find mine every time we're in the same room.” Giyu took a step closer, you watched him move as though he was going to strike you down. LIke he was going for a killing blow.

“I… I don’t do that.” The lie was so obvious to your ears it almost made you cringe outwardly. 

“I’m not trying to embarrass you because… I look for you in every room. I… I lied to you the second time we saw each other so many years ago I… I knew you were Rengoku’s tsuguko because he’d written to me. He… sensed something and told me he was sending you to me for that mission. I was so… so damn nervous to see you again after so many years. So curious about how you were faring and I couldn’t even get more than fifteen words out. And when Rengoku passed I would write Kagaya, ask him how you were because I was too much of a coward to ask you myself.” That’s why Kagaya wrote to you. Your heart still beat, skipped a beat then beat again. Everything was falling into place. Why Rengoku had sent you away when you had always gone on his missions with him. The scheming man was playing matchmaker. And even Kagaya was playing the same damn game. 

“Don’t say anything else, Giyu. Please.”

“I won’t speak the rest of the night if you come back. You can even leave at first light. Just please… let me feed you and give you a place to sleep.”

“My inn isn’t too far.”

“Please.” The emotion in his voice was staggering. It was a plea. It had sounded like something he needed even more than breathing. You stared at him. If you went with him now that would be the very first crack in your walls. You never gave an inch away since Rengoku died and if you started now everything would crumble.

“No. I’m going back to my inn.”

“I’ll join the hashira training.” He said and your lips parted in silent surprise. “That’s why you came tonight wasn’t it? You’d never do it alone so Kagaya must’ve written to you? Am I right?” Your face must’ve given away the answer because Giyu continued and you realized right here and now this is the most you two have ever talked. An hour together had more dialogue than almost eight years. And this was why you kept your distance all these years. Because if anyone knew you it was Giyu, he’d seen you at your lowest yet here he was… begging you to stay for just a few hours. “Come back and I’ll join. You can consider your favor a success.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I’d do it for you.”

“Be serious.” You growled and Giyu took another step forward. You hadn’t noticed him getting so close but suddenly he was close enough to touch. You stepped back. 

“Come back. Please.”

“You’re annoyingly persistent.”

“I just want you safe. That’s all.”

“You already saved me once. That’s enough.” You condemned with a shake of your head. Giyu looked doubtful for a moment, unsure of how to convince you to come back. But if you made good on Kaguya's favor this could be the end of it. “I’ll come back.” His eyes shot up to yours. “But I’m gone first light.” He nodded his head at that. 

Giyu finished up dinner as you set the table. It was quiet between you two after everything. Giyu had all but confessed the real depth of his feelings but you had an idea and it wasn’t something you’d let yourself dwell on. That idea was something close to hope. Something close to the degree of happiness. That’s not something you wanted. Not something you’d let yourself have. If there was one thing you were truly good at, it was self destruction. 

You took your seat as Giyu placed down the food. Miso soup with sweet potatoes. You stared at it, stricken. Rengoku’s favorite meal. 

“Y/n? Are you alright?” 

“Seriously? That was at least your sixth bowl.” You huffed as Rengoku smirked as he pulled the bowl to his lips, slurping down the rest of its contents. He placed it down and reached for the ladle again. You watched him in amused surprise as he dulled out a seventh bowl. “You’re overgorging yourself.”

“It’s too good. Who taught you to cook, kid?” 

“You did.” You sighed with an eyeroll as Rengoku laughed heartily.

“Ah! That’s right I did.”

You blinked a few times and suddenly your face felt wet. You pressed a hand to your cheek. You hadn’t cried since losing your parents. You thought you were incapable, that you had exhausted your tear ducts at night. You hadn’t cried when you lost Rengoku and you always felt inhuman because of it. You looked across the table and met Giyu’s wide eyed stare, he looked startled at your tears.

“What’s wrong?” He asked and you couldn’t stop the tears now. They fell so fluidly, so overwhelmingly. You tried to apologize but your words just came out in stuttered croaks in your throat. Giyu stood so fast he knocked his chair over as he crossed to the other side of the table. He dropped to his knees beside you and pulled you to him. Rengoku hugged you a lot. You’d say it was unwanted but it was something you needed. Giyu’s arms around you felt different. He hugged you close to his chest, his hand tangled in your hair as you fell prey to your emotions. But startlingly so… it felt nice. Bottling things up for so long had very nearly ended you and you might’ve been able to really shut off your humanity if it hadn't been for that damned letter. If it hadn't been for Rengoku’s unending kindness. If it hadn't been for Giyu’s persistence. You could’ve nearly ended up as black hearted as the demon that flipped your life upside down. That was the most startling revelation of them all.

Giyu hugged you tight as you fell to pieces. He didn’t let go, never even loosened his arms a little bit around you. He just held you and let you cry and cry. It should’ve been embarrassing but as he pulled your hair back out of your face and wiped your wet cheeks there wasn’t an ounce of that annoying sympathy in his eyes. Just utter understanding. And this was the most inopportune time, seeing as your eyes were probably bloodshot, nose probably running like crazy, but without thinking you sucked in a ragged breath and then pressed your mouth to his.

Giyu made a sound low in his throat, you felt his arms around you tighten, drawing you in, deepening the kiss. This wasn’t something you knew of. Your parent’s pecked each other’s lips and cheeks but this… no this was something for behind closed doors. For just you two. That fire that pooled in your stomach upon seeing Giyu had heightened at least tenfold when he pulled you into his lap. Your bodies pressed against one anothers, no room, not even a milimeter’s length of space. He kissed you softly, but you kissed him back hard. That chasm of loneliness in you had reached its peak and you wanted it gone. He gently ran his hand through your hair and you balled your fist in his shirt. He gently lowered you back and kissed you against the hardwood flooring of his kitchen. 

You shoved your chair away from you both and hooked your legs around his hips. He made another sound and you found that you liked it so you tightened your hold and slid your hand in his hair. That awarded you another sound, like a whimper. When he pulled back for air you yanked him by the hair back to your lips. Fuck air. You didn’t need that. You’d rather breathe him in. He whimpered again, his hips mindlessly moving, sending a wave of heat through you and this time it was your turn to groan. He hooked an arm around your back and with strength and swiftness, he hoisted you up off the floor without even breaking the kiss. You gasped in surprise and he walked you through the hallway. Kissing you against the wall and the door and the dresser before he finally made it to his bed. 

You two fell into the softness of his covers, his body trapping you beneath him. He trailed his lips away from yours and whimpered at the loss of contact. But he kissed both your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose and to your jaw. He paid extra attention to your neck before kissing your collar bones. He kissed his way back down your body. Kissing your scars that had once been an eyesore to you. Ever so gently tracing some absentmindedly with his other hand. Whatever growing between you two was something to be earned. Sure you loved Giyu but you needed more time with him. You spent eight years barely speaking. You could tell Giyu felt that too because when his lips met yours again and pulled back you both blinked tiredly at one another. 

Astonishingly you watched the softest of smiles spread across Giyu’s face. You wanted to catalog this moment forever. To remember it till the day you died. Giyu pressed one last kiss to your forehead and then dropped beside you on the bed. He pulled you to him, your back pressed to his front. Your legs tangled as his hand reached across you and intertwined with yours. You blushed but settled against him. The dregs of sleep calling for you. You two didn’t need to speak another word.  

You watched the first light roll in through Giyu’s curtains. It shone like blades across his room. Giyu softly snored beside you, arms still around your body. You’d never kissed a single soul before but you knew what a kiss meant. You knew whenever your dad kissed your mom or the other way around that it was an unspoken way to say I love you. But it was a different kind of love your parents shared. You loved your family. You loved Rengoku. 

But you loved Giyu. 

You loved him as you clamped your fist in his shirt the night he saved you. You loved him when you stepped off that train. You loved him at every hashira meeting and every stolen glance. You loved him as you read Kagaya’s letter and loved him when he opened the door. As he chased you down in the street and begged you to come back to his home. So many problems never go away, some pain felt as though it would last forever and you never thought you could break through. You never thought you could just grow around it, because nothing was more persistent than a plant in the presence of the sun. You never told Rengoku you loved him, never told him how much he meant to you and that his kindness never fell to deaf ears. You had spent eight years loving Giyu and not letting yourself know it.

And all it took was some miso soup and sweet potatoes.

[redrose10]

Hi I love your works ❤️❤️ I want a fic with yoongi with #26 and #34 propmts

I wrote this as a part two to this one. I hope that’s okay!

#26 It was you the whole time

#34 I might never get another chance to say this

Warnings: Angst, one swear word

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The ride to the airport gave you a lot of time to think. You thought a little about your new job and your new home. Mostly you thought about Yoongi. You wondered how his wedding reception was going. Jin was probably dancing on top of a table already which made you laugh at the thought. Hopefully Yoongi was having fun.

You knew he probably realized you had left, you just hoped he wasn’t too upset about it. Your phone was still turned off from the ceremony, but you knew once it was turned on you’d have dozens of notifications from him. The thought of telling him beforehand definitely crossed your mind, but you didn’t want to ruin his big day much to the dismay of Jimin who had actively tried to convince you tell him not only about your new job, but also your love for him.

You thought it was better to quietly sneak out just like you did and handle the consequences of your actions afterwards while you were thousands of miles away from him.

***********************************************

“Where is Y/N?”, Yoongi asked walking up to Jimin, “I haven’t seen her since the ceremony and she’s not answering her phone. She always answers when I call.”

Quickly Jimin took a big gulp of his drink trying to buy a few more seconds, “Uhhhh bathroom. Yes she went to the bathroom.”

“That’s what you said twenty minutes ago.”

“Well she drank a lot and has a small bladder. I don’t know what to tell you.”

Yoongi glared at Jimin making him feel uncomfortable.

“Ooohhh is that calamari?”, Jimin said before using the distraction as an excuse to quickly run away. Yoongi let out a long sigh as he ran his hands through his hair for probably the fiftieth time before getting an idea.

First he checked on his new wife making sure she was okay and letting her know he had to check on something real quick.

Once he was in a private room he took out the letter you had handed him earlier. He knew he promised not to open it until the next day, but you also promised to always answer his calls so if you can break promises so can he.

Gently he unfolded the paper. His heart skipped a beat as he read,

“Yoongi,

I’m so genuinely happy for you on your big day and I wish you and your wife nothing but happiness and joy for the rest of your lives which is why I’ve chosen to do what I’ve done. I’ve accepted a job offer thousands of miles away. I left right after your ceremony. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you beforehand. I just didn’t want to cause you heartache right before one of the happiest most important days of your life.

Ever since that day at summer camp when you made me a new necklace because mine had broke…I knew I loved you. I have loved you more than anything for so many years which is why I had to let you go, even if it meant sitting there and smiling as I watched you profess your love to someone else. Please don’t be upset with me and don’t let this ruin the celebration. Take care of yourself Yoongi.

Until we meet again some day,

Y/N”

By the end of the letter Yoongi was shaking. He stormed out of the room and made a beeline straight for Jimin shoving him in the shoulder, “You knew didn’t you?! You knew she was leaving and didn’t say anything. How could you do this to me? How could SHE do this to me?!”

“I’m sorry, but she made me promise.”, Jimin said hiding behind Namjoon who was trying to mediate and calm the situation.

“Unbelievable.”, Yoong scoffed before heading to the bar ignoring all the concerned looks.

***********************************************

“Thank you”, you smiled accepting the coffee from the barista. You had a little time to spare so you decided to get a much needed coffee and a snack before your flight. Finally deciding to switch on your phone you sighed as notification after notification popped up, all from Yoongi.

His name popped up on your screen once again as another call came through. Deciding you weren’t ready to deal with that yet you turned your phone off again and put it back in your bag turning your attention back to your coffee.

It seemed that everyone on your plane decided to get in line to board at the exact same time only adding to your already irritated state. Finally after what felt life forever the line started moving.

You only took a few steps before you felt someone grab your arm. Your crankiness coming out in full blast made you pull your arm out of their grasp and spin around, “Look buddy, you’re going to have to wait in line like everyone else…Yoongi?”

To say you were shocked to see him standing there would be an understatement. He was still in his tux. His hair no longer neatly styled and his cheeks were rosy either from drinking or running, maybe both you weren’t sure.

“Yoongi what are you doing here?”

He took out the letter and pushed it against your chest, “Did you mean what you said in this?”

“You weren’t supposed to read that until tomorrow. You promised.”

“Yeah well you promised to always answer my calls so I guess we’re even.”

You rolled your eyes feeling your annoyance building, “Yes I took a new job and I’m moving.”

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”, he spat back.

He pulled you off to the side away from prying ears, “Did you mean what you said about loving me?”

Unable to look him in the eyes you nodded.

“Fuck Y/N, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

The line for your plane was moving faster so you picked up your carryon bag, “Look I have to go Yoongi. I’ll call you when I land and we can talk then.”

You tried to walk away but he grabbed your arm once again pulling you closer, “Y/N please, If I don’t say this now I might never get another chance to say this.”

You dropped your bag once again giving him the chance to speak.

“I love you Y/N. I’ve loved you ever since that same day at camp when your face lit up after I handed you the necklace. I’m sorry I’m an idiot and never told you. I was scared and didn’t want to loose you as a friend so I buried my feelings deep down and tried to find love elsewhere, but I can’t loose you now. I need you. I need you here with me. It was you the whole time.”

You shook your head, “Yoongi you just got married.”

“I know. I’ll take care of it. She’s the innocent one in all of this so I’ll apologize and make sure she’s taken care of. Honestly I think she was kind of suspicious anyways. Please Y/N. I’m so sorry it ended up like this, but I need you to know how much I love you and I want you.”

You bit your lip trying to prevent your tears from falling but it was no use. You shook your head before picking up your bag again, “I’m sorry Yoongi. I can’t be the one that breaks up your marriage. We both made our choices and now we have to move forward with them. Take care of yourself. Go home and enjoy your new married life. I’ll be okay on my own.”

Taking a deep breath before you turned around and hurried over to the gate making it at the last minute. The flight attendant checked you in and stepped aside for you to enter.

You turned around to give Yoongi one last look feeling your heart shatter at the sight of him with his hands in his pockets as tears fell down his cheeks. He nodded and gave you a familiar forced smile before you turned around hearing the door close behind you.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for trying to play matchmaker? for context, this all happened months ago but is coming back now. about halfway through my (18F) senior year of high school, my friend L (also 18F) started crushing on a boy she sat with in math class (18M). she only admitted it to me and the rest of our friend group after we begged her to tell us who she liked for weeks, but in hindsight, it was sort of obvious she really likes him. i have a lot of candid pics on my phone of her glancing over at him during class when she wasn't paying attention but that's beside the point. she wasn't making any moves at all to let him know how she felt and start going out with him, so after a while, we decided to give her a little push. we encouraged her, made subtle hints towards him that someone in class had a crush on him, and when that still wasn't enough, i wrote a love letter for her to sign and give to him. it was easy. prom was a couple of months away by that point and if she was going to struggle so hard to find the words, it made sense for her to just give him a note telling him what she wanted to say. but still, L was stubborn and continued to claim that she wasn't interested in dating at all. apparently she didn't like him *that* much and she was happy just being friends with him (not very convincing when she was constantly making googly eyes at him). she's always been shy, though, and if she doesn't get out of her shell, she's never going to survive in college. for more motivation, i gave her a time limit: if she didn't sign her love letter and give it to him within two weeks, i was going to go up to him and tell him that she liked him. the time game and on the final day, she told me she did it. i trusted her even though she was acting suspicious (barely speaking to him, practically running out of the class they shared together that day, avoiding the friend group for most of the day) but i found out after talking to him later that she lied to me and actually threw the note away. when i confronted her the next day, she apologized and told me that she was terrified i would actually tell him about her crush (i was joking about that, and it hurt that she didn't trust me). out of spite, she ended up asking out one of her childhood friends to prom as her platonic date just so she could say "oh no, sorry, but i already have a date" whenever we tried to help her get with her crush in the future. prom and graduation passed, and the two of them haven't talked much since. i thought this whole situation was over with, but recently, L has been avoiding all of us and makes excuses to not hang out with us. we only have so much time together before she moves out of state for college, so i got a mutual friend to check on her and see what's up. apparently, L's still holding a grudge about how we tried to set her up with the boy. she claims that she was so stressed out for all of senior year that she started getting constant nightmares because of us, and she's upset we never respected her boundaries. however, i think that she's overexaggerating. if it was that serious, she knows that she can always just talk to us instead of keeping it all in so she can make me out to be the bad guy to other people. besides, we were doing what was best for her. he was the first guy she's ever had a crush on, and L has a history of letting her shyness get the better of her. i didn't want her to miss out on this opportunity to be happy, and if she just took our advice instead of acting childish, i'm sure she would have thanked us. i reached out to tell her i'm sorry if she thought i was being too pushy, but it's been days and she still hasn't replied to me. aita?

What are these acronyms?

[mcntsee]

deer y/n,

Summary: First part of letters to her. I recommend reading the prologue first.

Warnings: Ooc Kaz Brekker, I think one cuss word, terrible writing.

Note: Here it is! First part of the letters to her series. This is super short, I was struggling to figure out what to write for this letter, but I promise the rest are better. I am also trying a new writing style. Enjoy!

* ੈ✩‧₊˚

“Oh my.”

“What is it?”

Y/n managed to misplace her necklace—yet again—turning what was supposed to be a delightful date into a search mission for the elusive piece of jewelry.

Kaz was grateful she had agreed to getting some food and dining in. The past week had been a whirlwind of meetings with everyone in the forsaken city, leaving him overwhelmed. He'd endured an excessive amount of handshakes, enough to last a year, maybe three.

But Y/n understood. After all, she had been by his side since he could remember, never passing judgment on him for anything.

"Love?" He called out again. Kaz despised the silence. It could only mean two things: something good or something really bad.

“Y/n?” Usually, he was the type to lean towards options that gave him more than a fifty-fifty chance.

“Y/n!”

“Yes! Sorry I just-“

He found her in the dining room. “What is it?” As he approached, he noticed she was holding something in her hand. However, before he even had the chance to ask about it, she turned, fully facing him with her hand extended out.

"This," she said, glancing at what Kaz now recognized as an aged letter, "happens to be the first letter you ever wrote me."

She cleared her throat, preparing to read the letter to him.

“Deer Y/n,”

“For fuck’s sake.”

Kaz remembered that day with as much clarity as he remembered his lunch from a couple of hours ago.

It hadn't been anything out of the ordinary, no. Yet, he remembered it nonetheless.

“What is the matter with you?”

"Deer." He pointed at the word that was meant to be 'dear'. "Are you not reading?"

“I am and I’m well aware of the fact that is says deer. Once again, what’s the matter with you?”

“Can you put it away, it’s embarrassing.”

“Kaz, you were five.”

He had indeed been five, and apparently, not the brightest when it came to spelling. However, he laid the blame on his dad, who assured him it had looked good enough to send.

“How do you even have that still?”

“I could never lose it.”

“It’s just a letter, Y/n.”

“The first letter I ever got from you.” She corrected.

“It’s still just a letter, Y/n.”

“Whatever Kaz. It’s my most priced possession.”

He could tell she intended to keep reading the letter, but as her mouth open to let out the words, he noticed a mischievous glint in her eye.

“That and the drawing, of course.”

“The drawing?”

“The drawing.”

Kaz really had thought that it couldn’t get worse. Of course he hadn’t needed her to read the letter for him, so he had more than enough time to realize just how bad his grammar had once been.

But then, she decided to turn back around to grab the drawning and show him.

“I miss spots.” she said. In truth, he shared that sentiment. Spots had been his first and only pet.

He had entertained the idea of getting another pet with her. Perhaps another feline, or a loyal canine. Maybe even a crow. A replacement for the family he knew he couldn’t provide to her. “He was a great cat.”

“Indeed. He had to put up with you everyday.”

“I-, You know what? Same goes for you.”

That laugh. He was convinced that her laughter was the only force capable of resurrecting him from death. That and her eyes, of course, especially when they sparkled with mischievousness.

“Wait! Look,” Before he had a chance to see what she was pointing at, she covered the letter with her hand, completely defeating the purpose of asking someone to look.

“I am trying.”

"No, wait. Before I show you, you know how you always ask why I always sign: Love, my name, and then an exclamation mark with a heart instead of a dot?"

If he was honest, the question about her peculiar signature had crossed his mind only a couple of times. However, with the letter concealed and her mischievous grin, he wondered if uncovering the reason was a journey worth embarking on. “Mhmm...”

“Look!” She said while pointing at Kaz’s - or, well, five year old kaz’s signature. “Look, look, look, look, look.” Kaz couldn’t help but smile at her excitement, but he still couldn’t fathom why she was making such a fuss over his childhood attempt at penmanship. “Sweetheart, I am looking.”

There it was, his old signature in all its glory, proudly proclaiming, "Love, Kaz!"

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Hello! I wanna request Shinobu with a s/o (She/Her) that sends her letters very often like every single day as she is on a mission. But one day she just stops writing, Shinobu panics and just sets off to find her to find out she was injured and just treats her while chatting with her because they don’t hang out alot.

On the way back to the Butterfly Mansion, S/O just says ‘I love you’ to Shinobu while she was unconscious. (Note: they are just friends) And S/O didn’t know she said that the next day. Shinobu remembers it and confront S/O.

S/O gets flustered and just ran away and tries to avoid Shinobu which was soon a fail. Shinobu thought she did something wrong and Aoi just had to set them up and S/O finally confess to Shinobu consciously.

(Aoi and the girls are watching from a bush!)

I love your writing so much and have a great day! ❤️

You Were Not Supposed to Hear That

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader

A/N: On Friday I took a really spectacular running fall into some gravel and have just tore myself into shreds. From chin to knees I have fucked myself up🥲. I’m okay, but just thought you all would like to know. But amidst the stinging and aching pains, I was like, it’s been two weeks, I got to get something done so here you go! (Again… don’t really have the energy for editing right now. Hope there aren’t any errors that are too distracting.) Hope you enjoy, thanks for reading! Word Count: 3,066

“Still nothing?”

En fluttered her wings and shook her head at Shinobu, confirming that yet another busy day went by without a letter finding its way into her hands.

“This is starting to become troubling…” Shinobu murmured to herself, looking out the window up at the darkening sky.

(Y/n) was a sayer she had treated a couple of years ago, nothing life-threatening, but she had been out of commission for long enough for her and Shinobu to develop a rapport and parted on friendly terms. (Y/n) would visit on occasion, but more frequently, she would send Shinobu letters. Usually once or twice every two weeks. But now they were approaching the end of the third week without a word and Shinobu was growing concerned for her friend.

“I suppose I should try sending her another letter of my own then. No offense to the poor bird, but her crow is not as reliable as you, En. Will you go looking for her and ensure my letter reaches her once I finish drafting it?”

En assured Shinobu that the letter would be safe with her, then waited patiently on Shinobu’s windowsill, giving Shinobu privacy as she wrote. The Hashira never wrote anything scandalous of course, but En always made sure to give her the opportunity to if she ever saw fit. (Y/n) was one of the very few people Shinobu exchanged letters with regularly after all and given how the letters she received often made her smile so, En thought there was a good chance their relationship could lead to something more and En liked (Y/n), she gave her extra berries and peanuts. The more letters sent between Shinobu and (Y/n) the better, En would say.

As soon as Shinobu secured the parchment to En’s leg, the crow was gone on the breeze of the cool, evening air. Unfortunately, (Y/n) had been a little tougher to find this time around, but she was found nonetheless. Shinobu would not be happy when she heard what kind of shape the slayer was in, however.

“Injured?” Shinobu frowned worriedly while scanning the letter En brought back to her further. She had hoped (Y/n) would tell her more about how badly she was injured, but she hadn’t, instead going into lighter topics such as how nice the Wisteria House that she had taken refuge within. Shinobu sighed and put the letter down on her desk. “Well, you saw her, En. How was she?”

“Broken hand, bruised ribs. A smattering of scratches and bruises, but nothing that won’t heal in due time.” The crow helpfully provided.

“Hmm, I see... Thank you.” Shinobu seemed to go deep into thought then, the concern not leaving her expression. In fact, it seemed to grow into anxiety despite En’s assurances that the other slayer would be just fine. “I think I will pay her a visit then. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen her anyway. Besides, it’s not a bad idea to make sure whoever checked her over caught everything…”

A glint appeared in En’s eye. A promising sign if Shinobu felt compelled to travel all that way just to check on what was essentially just a few bumps and bruises as far as the usual demon slayer injuries go. Shinobu was showing (Y/n) special treatment, but En wouldn’t judge. Knowing how much of herself Shinobu gave others, En figured she deserved to be a little selfish from time to time. Even if that selfishness was still technically for someone else’s benefit.

And so, Shinobu packed a light bag, jaunted over to the closest train station and hopped on a train that would go through the city (Y/n) was recuperating in. The look of elated surprised on (Y/n)’s face when she looked up from her book to see her standing there and knocking on her doorframe made Shinobu’s mood brighten substantially.

“Shinobu! What are you doing here?” (Y/n) asked excitedly, quickly closing the book and shoving it aside.

“Oh, you know,” Shinobu moved to sit on the edge of the bed, “I was in the area so I thought I’d drop by, see how you’re healing up.” She gently took hold of (Y/n)’s casted hand, scrutinizing it to make sure it put together with care. “So, how are you?”

“I’m doing alright. Kind of achy and sore, a little tired, but otherwise fine. How about you, how have you been?” (Y/n) seemed excited to know, she always appeared to hang on to Shinobu’s every word. Shinobu was no stranger to such things, but having (Y/n)’s undivided attention felt especially good.

“I’m doing quite well, especially now that I get to have a visit with you.” Shinobu teased. She always loved to see just how flustered she could make (Y/n). It was one of her favorite activities.

“Yeah?” (Y/n) laughed awkwardly, her free hand bunched up in the blankets to serve as a distraction from the sudden uptick of her heartbeat “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Mhm!” Shinobu tilted her head to the side, smiling all the while. She gave (Y/n)’s casted hand a soft pat when the bandaging cleared her inspection. “In fact, you should take the train back home with me. Complete the rest of your recovery with me so we can catch up on all that was too wordy for the letters. What do you say?”

“Really? I wouldn’t want to impose. I’d just be more work for you, having to check my injuries and whatnot.”

“Injuries like yours are like treating paper cuts and grazed knees to me. It’ll be no trouble at all. Come on, I’ll buy your ticket~”

(Y/n) bit her inner cheek, well, far be it from her to miss out on extra time with Shinobu. Especially a direct invitation. Hell, she’d buy her own ticket and Shinobu’s if the Hashira asked her to.

“If you’re certain, then I’d love to come along.”

“Wonderful,” Shinobu patted (Y/n)’s shoulder and then slid off of the bed. “Let’s get you packed up then.”

Before (Y/n) knew it, she was all packed up and on the next train to the station closest to Shinobu’s home. It didn’t take much time or exertion at all, but she did find herself drifting off once they were settled in their booth. After maybe the fifth or sixth nodding off and then jolting awake, Shinobu chuckled.

“You can rest. I don’t mind. I know how to keep myself entertained.” She said, taking a book from her own bag and waving it back and forth.

“Sorry, I really wish I could stay awake.” (Y/n) yawned.

“It’s no trouble. Rest, you need it.”

“Thanks…”

It didn’t take long before her head to find itself against the booth’s edge. She was out like a light. Shinobu hummed in amusement and then flipped open her book. Before she could even make it to the bottom of the first page, (Y/n)’s head tilted the opposite way and ended up on her shoulder, a nonsensical mumbling falling from her lips as she pressed in a little closer.

“This is unusual.” Shinobu chose to rest her head atop (Y/n)’s and poked the sleeping girl’s cheek gently. “I can’t wait to tease you about this later.”

(Y/n)’s face twitched and she unconsciously rubbed the spot Shinobu had poked with a tired grumble. She hid her face after that, almost between Shinobu and the booth. A quiet sigh of Shinobu’s name left her, and then,

“I love you.”

Shinobu blinked. Had she heard that right? Of course she did. Compared to the other mumblings, that utterance was clear as day.

What a sweet sentiment, even if it was said unconsciously. Shinobu’s expression softened, but only for a moment before a glint of mischief shone through.

“Oh the ammunition you’re giving me, (Y/n) and you don’t even realize it.” She smiled. “Sleep well for now, while you can.”

***

The train rolled to a stop and the steam hissed, jerking (Y/n) awake. She straightened out and swung her head to the right and then to the left, almost bumping noses with Shinobu.

“Ah!” (Y/n) pulled back, almost falling off of the seat and into the aisle. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for, (Y/n).” Shinobu assured. “Let’s go home then, shall we?”

“Sure.”

They left the busy station together and began their walk back the the Butterfly Mansion. When they noise of the crowd died down, (Y/n) spoke.

“Sorry for sleeping through the whole trip. I hope you weren’t bored.”

“Trust me when I say I was thoroughly entertained, (Y/n).” Shinobu assured with a smile that was a tad too mischievous. “Did you know you talk in your sleep?”

(Y/n) felt her stomach drop. Oh god… what had she said? Something embarrassing no doubt from the look Shinobu was sporting. How mortifying!

“And you were quite cuddly too. You were hugging my arm at one point even.”

Agh! Could it get any worse?!

“Well—! It’s pretty normal for people to do things like that in their sleep. It’s all dumb and meaningless stuff you know.”

“Dumb and meaningless? (Y/n), you wound me.” Shinobu rested the back of her hand against her forehead. “Is that how you really feel?”

“Well, yeah!” (Y/n) doubled-down. “It’s not like I know what I’m saying while I’m asleep. Whatever I said didn’t mean anything and you shouldn’t hold it against me.”

“Oh, so when you said you loved me, there wasn’t any truth in that sentiment? You didn’t mean it?” Shinobu carried on as usual, she didn’t seem hurt. She still found the incident funny. She didn’t need (Y/n) to be in love with her, all she needed to know was that they were friends. That was good enough for her.

(Y/n) felt the sudden urge to scream out of sheer embarrassment, but she held it in. Obviously based on Shinobu’s demeanor she was still only playing around, but what was she supposed to say to that? She was a terrible liar!

“Well—!” She fumbled a bit, trying to find the words she needed, “That’s not anything groundbreaking! You know I love you like… a normal amount.”

So inconspicuous! What a wordsmith! Brava!

“Is that right?” Shinobu smirked, a quiet laugh leaving her lips. “What exactly is a normal amount to you, (Y/n)? Please, I’d love to hear all about it.”

(Y/n) felt uncomfortably warm, nervous, like she was going to throw up if she tried to say anything else. Shinobu noticed this and was going to let (Y/n) off the hook right away, but then voices from a little further down the path made both of their heads turn.

“Oh! Shinobu-sama, (Y/n)-san, hello!”

A butterfly girl brigade soon appeared from further up the path, all five carrying baskets of various vegetation.

“Hello, girls thank you for your hard work.” Shinobu thanked the girls sincerely for holding down the fort while she was on her impromptu journey. She was then caught up on all the notable things that happened while she was away and at some point during the midst of that…

“Hey, where did (Y/n)-san go?”

Six heads swiveled around to look at their immediate surroundings to find that (Y/n) had inexplicably vanished from the group. They all called out for her and searched the nearby woods, concerned that she would up and leave without a word.

When their search yielded no result, they went back to the mansion to form a search party out of Kakushi, but fortunately, Goto told them they had nothing to worry about.

“Oh, I saw (Y/n)-san arrive not too long ago.” He said, Shinobu’s body relaxed, a quiet sigh of relief left her.

“That girl,” Aoi huffed, “Where is she now? I’d like to give her a piece of my mind.”

“Ah, well,” Goto rubbed the back of his neck, “she’s around… I may or may not have been asked not to tell anyone where she is within the mansion for now.”

“What?!” Aoi through her arms up in exasperation. “Of all the childish— we just spent half an hour combing the the nearby woods for her when she vanished suddenly. She has some explaining to do, because making us all worry like that is unacceptable!”

“It’s my fault.” Shinobu sighed, making all eyes turn on her, “I pushed her too far, teasing her over something she had no control over. She must have slinked off while I was distracted because she knew she’d never be able to avoid me otherwise.” She guessed a bit contritely.

“Shinobu-sama, what could you have possibly been teasing her about to cause this mess?” Aoi asked, arms crossed.

Shinobu shook her head. “I don’t believe it’s my place to say. I promise I shall apologize to her the first chance I get. But for now, let (Y/n) have some time to herself, and please don’t be too upset with her for running off.”

Shinobu caught sight of the time, telling the girls that for the time being she’d be in her lab. She thanked them again for their hard work, and apologized for their wasted search before walking away.

“I wonder why this happened.” Sumi pondered.

“Oh, I’ll tell you what happened.” Aoi said confidently, “I bet (Y/n) finally said something unintentionally to let Shinobu-sama know how much she actually likes her and in true Shinobu-sama fashion, she fumbled the moment of vulnerability for a joke. Well, I’m not letting this foolishness carry on for a minute more. Will you all help me find (Y/n) so we can get this all sorted out before it gets even more awkward between them?“

All of the girls agreed with a round of exclamations and nods. Soon they were combing through the estate. After some time, Kanao was the one to bring back word that (Y/n) was sitting under Victory, watching the cherry blossoms flutter around her wistfully.

“Thank you, Kanao, I’ll take it from here.” Aoi said, already walking briskly towards the tree, startling (Y/n) from her gloomy thoughts. “Don’t you dare try running away from me, (Y/n).” She warned.

“I-I’m not.” (Y/n) put her hands up defensively. “…Did Shinobu send you? Did she tell you what I said?!” She added hastily.

“No,” Aoi sat down beside (Y/n) with a harsh exhale, “She didn’t need to tell me anything because it doesn’t take a genius to figure out how in love you are (Y/n)-san, so just accept the help I’m trying to provide you, alright? Shinobu-sama seems content to give you space for now, but I know once you two decide to make up, you’re just going to pretend nothing happened, so you better confess properly when I get her to come out here, okay?”

“W-what?! No, I couldn’t—“

“Yes you could! Are you really going to let this go on forever? That would just be sad and annoying considering everyone knows you two love each other. Be a woman and ask her out!”

It took some convincing, but Aoi had finally gotten (Y/n) to a place where the idea of honestly telling Shinobu she had romantic feelings for her wasn’t going to immediately make her throw-up from nerves and so now all Aoi had to do was get Shinobu out there as soon as she could before (Y/n) got cold feet and ran off again. Some people enjoyed playing matchmaker, but Aoi found the whole process rather annoying.

She all but shoved Shinobu out of her lab and pointed her in the right direction, making sure the Hashira was heading that way before quickly working around the mansion to join the other girls watching excitedly from the bushes to witness the fruit of her labor.

She arrived just in time to see Shinobu sit beside (Y/n) beneath Victory’s vibrant petal-laden branches. What a beautiful place for a confession of love. The mood was set.

“(Y/n),” Shinobu spoke softly, “I’m sorry I—“

“You don’t have to apologize,” (Y/n) cut her off, “I know you didn’t mean to make me uncomfortable.”

“But I did. Definitely not to the degree that I did, but I wanted to see you squirm a little. I didn’t mean to cause you anxiety and I do apologize for that. But please,” Shinobu moved to rest her hand atop (Y/n)’s, “if the time comes that I overstep again, please tell me that you would like some time to yourself instead of leaving without telling anyone. I was worried when I couldn’t find you.”

“I will, I promise. I’m sorry for worrying you.” (Y/n) looked down at their hands in the bed of fallen petals and took a deep breath, “Shinobu, can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“I… I really do love you, but… it’s um…”

“Not a normal amount?” Shinobu couldn’t help but tease.

“Right,” (Y/n) flustered, “but it might be less than a normal amount if you keep that up.”

“Sorry, dear,” Shinobu didn’t look sorry in the least, “please continue, I’m all ears.”

(Y/n) sighed quietly, “I like you a lot more than I’ve ever liked anyone so would you maybe be interested in going on a date with me sometime? Of course, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I know how busy you are and I don’t expect you to agree even if you aren’t busy. I’m happy being friends. Friends is just as good—

A range of gasps and squeals came from the bushes as Shinobu leaned in and planted a bit quite chaste kiss on the corner of (Y/n)’s mouth. She barely pulled away before speaking, keeping their bodies close.

“I’m sure I can carve out some time soon. I did shrink off some duties to hop on a train to see you once already after all.”

“I, I thought you said you just happened to be in the area…” (Y/n) murmured, still light headed from the near head-on kiss.

“I lied!” Shinobu smiled, not an ounce of shame detectable.

“You jerk!” (Y/n) threw caution to the wind and tackled Shinobu completely to the ground, “Just how many of those coincidental run-ins were actually coincidental?”

“Very few.”

“Shinobu!”

An amused exhale left Aoi as she watched the two women laugh together.

“Alright, I think we’ve seen what we needed to see. Come on everyone, back to work.”

Some of the girls seemed a little disappointed to be leaving, but hearing the sounds of joy still lighting up the courtyard as they made their way back inside brought smiles to their faces.

[corneliaavenue-ao3]

Summer's a Knife (a graveyard fic)

Graveyard fics are fics that I started and will never return to. Some are vague outlines, some are 4 sentences, some are 40 pages. But if they haunt me, I want them to haunt you too.

I am actually sad that this became a graveyard fic. But I truly cannot write it anymore. I wanted to release this first chapter in May of 2022... you see how well that went for me.

This is the first summer after the war from Ginny's POV. It is sad, it is romantic, it deals with grief. It was going to have flashbacks to Ginny's sixth year. It was going to have 4 big chapters and a small epilogue, each chapter focusing on a month. It was going to be one of my favorite things I wrote. Unfortanetly, I don't feel that way anymore.

May (chapter title: so long daisy May) is the only complete (non-edited) chapter. I knew what I wanted to write in June (the best and worst day of June), no clue what July (I've been down since July) would bring, and an idea for August (August slipped away)

I even had a playlist made

Chapter 1 is below the cut because it is 10k words, and I am giving it all to you. After that I will explain the rest of the vibes of the fic with some snippets I wrote. Sorry this is a LONG POST.

You say that we'll just screw it up in these trying times. We're not trying.

If I bleed, you’ll be the last to know

So Long Daisy May

Ginny’s bloodstained trainers echoed on the cobblestone path to her Great Aunt’s house. 

Once again, she was sent away for being too young. It wasn’t that long ago her parents were begging her to leave, to come back here for safety away from the final battle. Harry gave her a look that he didn’t want to see her either. She stayed of course. Fought in the war that was her fight as much as any other member of her family’s fight. Probably even more than most of them to be honest. 

Now the war was over, she was sent away again. Her mum didn’t want Ginny to stay at Hogwarts any longer than necessary, wary of any lurking danger from Death Eaters still roaming the grounds. The Burrow was not safe yet. Her dad, Bill, and Charlie left soon after Voldemort fell to ensure that their home would be safe for them to come home. Molly Weasley could not bear to convince George to leave his twin’s side in the room of all the deceased. Ron was off somewhere once again, probably conjoined to Harry and Hermione’s sides, unbearable for them to separate. 

That is how Ginny ends up with Percy of all brother’s returning to Great Aunt Muriel’s cold mansion that foggy, early morning.

Percy took a moment to knock on the front door. Ginny was planning to just walk inside, finding herself too tired to care about politeness and proper etiquette. 

The front door swung open 30 seconds later, a small house elf stood in the entryway. 

“Hey, Milsey. We were sent here to update Muriel and wait it out until the Burrow is safe,” Ginny said. 

Milsey bowed down, “Of course, anything for Prewett blood.”

Ginny didn’t even try to hide her eye roll. She could practically hear Hermione in her ear ranting about House Elf Welfare. 

“You don’t need to bow for us, Milsey,” Percy said. The first words he said aloud since their mum sent them here. Ginny did not know what to make of Percy anymore. He was the only brother who noticed anything was wrong with her during her first year at Hogwarts, and then he was the only one who checked up on her during her second year. Then he stopped caring about her. Ron told her that he got a letter from Percy telling him to stop being friends with Harry during his fifth year. She didn’t even get that. She could not understand how he could ignore his family for two years, and then come back begging for forgiveness. 

Fred had forgiven him. 

The thought of Fred made her entire insides clench. She wanted to vomit even though she had not had anything to eat in hours. 

Percy walked through the front door, Ginny closely following. 

“I am 109 years old, I just can’t have people showing up to my house unannounced at the crack of dawn. I have not even finished my tea yet this morning. Ginevra, your shoes are filthy. Take them off before you step on my Egyptian Rug, it is older than me and made from Sphynx fur,” Ginny’s aunt said in one breath. 

Muriel stood in the doorway, wrapped in her silk nightgown, arms folded, looking very unpleased to see her niece and nephew. “And where is Molly? I need to speak with her about her inability to raise polite children who give warning when they are going to visit their aunt!”

Ginny felt Percy’s hand wrap around her bicep, warning her to not make a retort. “We will make sure we give you notice next time we visit, Auntie Muriel. Thank you for letting us pop in this morning,” Percy said, using his trademark pompous voice. 

Muriel grunted, "I missed you Percy. You were always the most respectable Weasley. The Prewett blood runs strong in you."

Percy squeezed Ginny's arm again as a reminder to stay calm. Ginny turned and gave him a look that read something like I’m not a baby, get your annoying hands off of me. She wasn’t sure he quite got the message, but he removed his hand anyway. 

“We are only here until dad gives us the all clear to go back home. I will clear out all of our things we left in your spare rooms. Your favorite Weasley can update you on what has happened in the last 24 hours.” Ginny turned, not even sparing a glance at Percy to see his reaction to the news that he would be the one updating the family about Fred’s death. She crossed over the sphinx rug and stormed up the stairs, making sure to leave dirty footprints with each step.

Her room was first. Her trunk sat in the middle of the floor, a few articles of clothing scattered across the floor, but mostly still packed. She didn’t want to admit it to her mum at the time, but she kept her trunk packed in case they needed to make another quick escape. Now, it seems so frivolous caring about her things when her family is now forever torn apart. 

She quickly gathered her clothes strewn around and shoved them into her trunk. Levitating her trunk out the bedroom door and into the hallway.

The Ministry of Magic has more to worry about at the moment than some underage magic. 

Her parent’s room was next. Unlike Ginny, they did not have their trunks already packed from school, so they did not bring much from the Burrow. Ginny noticed this on her third day at her aunt’s house when her mum had not changed robes. Looking around the room, Ginny gathered what little items were there and put them into her own trunk.

The twin’s room was last. 

Ginny took a deep breath, bracing herself before pushing the door open slowly. Unsurprisingly, the room was a mess. Weasley Wizard Wheezes products piled in boxes on the floor and stacked on top of the bed. Mail in orders haphazardly organized in some system that only made sense to George. In the corner was Fred’s belongings frozen in time, never to be touched by him again. 

Flashbacks to the Great Hall flooded her brain. 

The smell of burning smoke clogged her nose. Seamus guided her back inside from the courtyard into the entryway of the Great Hall. Everything was too quiet. The emeralds littered on the floor cracked under her step, echoing against the stone walls. Suddenly Bill was there, pulling her from Seamus into his arms. He was crying. Why was he crying? He led her to the middle of the Great Hall where her family was huddled together. She counted the amount of heads, realizing two were missing. Slowly she approached her mum, who was kneeling on the ground in front of - NO.

Ginny stumbled, tripping over a box of sparklers on the ground. Her knees crashed into the footboard of the bed. A spare sparkler fizzled on the ground then ignited the entire box. An impressive explosion lit up the entire room, burning an imprint on the ceiling. Smoke filled her lungs. Spluttering, Ginny sunk to the ground, trying to catch her breath. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. In and out. Quicker. Faster.

In. 

Out. 

In.  

Out.

She felt herself start to hyperventilate. Her throat clogged up, unable to suck in deep enough breath to fill her lungs with oxygen. Tears blurred her vision. Pressure built in her head, she felt like she was submerged underwater. Unable to catch her breath. Drowning in her tears. 

Arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. For a second, she thought she was with Bill back in the Great Hall again before realizing that was not the brother holding her. 

“It’s alright, Ginny,” Percy soothed her.

Sobs wracked her body. She was exhausted. She could not keep them in any longer. Tucking her head into Percy’s chest, Ginny cried for her brother. She would never hear Fred tell another joke or have a late night race on the brooms. Her whole body ached. Several hours after his death, she finally felt the magnitude of the loss of Fred. 

Percy scratched her back, lightly tracing his fingertips down her spine, soothing her. Just like he had the time she broke down during their trip to Egypt. Slowly, oxygen inflated her lungs and her sobs lessened. Her breath slowed back to a stable rate. 

"Thanks, Perce," Ginny said when she finally trusted her own voice. 

"Don't mention it," he shrugged. "How about you get some rest, I will clean up the rest of this room."

Ginny was too tired to protest. Pulling herself to stand, Ginny nodded at Percy before slowly making her way back to her guest bedroom. She didn't even bother changing into fresh clothes before crawling into bed. Curled into a ball, she pulled the covers tightly around her. 

Her thoughts drifted to the same person she dreamt about for the entire year before the blackness wrapped around her, pulling her into a deep sleep. 

Hours too soon she was gently shook awake. Groggy eyes opened to her father smiling down at her. He aged so much within the last year. What red was once in his hair has turned primarily gray, fresh wrinkles were etched into his face. Ginny flung her arms around his neck.

“It’s safe to go home now.”

“Where’s Percy?” Ginny asked, hating how childish her voice sounded.

Her dad stroked her hair, “Already home. Let’s join him.”

Her dad grabbed the trunk on the ground and Ginny’s hand, side-apparating her to the Burrow. Teaching the sixth years how to apparate was not a priority this past year. Just another flaw in her education from the last 9 months. Her landing was not soft. Stumbling a few steps, Ginny stood at the top of the hill, just inside the ward line. 

“Everyone else is inside,” her dad said. 

Stumbling over herself, Ginny ran down the hill to her home. At first glance, the Burrow looked the same as the day she left it. But as she got closer to the front door, she noticed more things amiss. The treeline looked different like a few branches were knocked away. The grass was scorched yellow like someone burned it. Windows were cracked or blasted open with missing shards of glass. 

The front door groaned open with her push. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat together, heads bent down, all snapped up at the sound of her entering the kitchen. 

“Ginny!” Hermione smiled, standing to embrace her in a hug.

Ginny squeezed her friend back. She didn’t get to appreciate seeing the three of them at Hogwarts. Hermione was much thinner than the last time she saw her. They all were. 

Ron embraced her next, giving her a pat on the back. She let go and looked over at the end of the table where Harry now stood. 

“Hi,” Harry said.

He looked good. Thin like the other two, but still handsome. He had somehow gotten taller over the last year, his hair long, messier than she had ever seen it. The dark rings around his eyes and his hollow cheeks emphasized his green eyes. Staring at her the same way he had a year ago, like he was staring into a brilliant light. 

Her heart skipped a beat. 

But in the next heartbeat, they were crossing the room to one another. His arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders, hers around his waist. Pulling each other close. She pressed her ear against his chest. 

He's alive, heart is beating, lungs are expanding with each breath.

Alive. Alive. Alive. Alive. 

The stairs creaked, alerting them to the presence of another Weasley member. Ginny pulled back from Harry just slightly, not completely breaking contact, as George entered the room. Slowly, he crossed the room, giving Ginny a quick pat on the head before leaving out the back door. Reality sunk back in as she watched the back of George’s head.

Fred's dead. 

Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. 

She felt her throat start to clog again. The unbearable feeling of loss started to overwhelm her. Slowly, she pulled away from Harry. She could not lose it again, especially not in front of the others who went through so much more than she had. Ron also lost Fred, and he wasn’t breaking down at the sight of George. 

And George, who would see Fred’s face whenever he looked in the mirror, did not deserve Ginny breaking down by looking at him. It made her feel like an awful person for almost losing it. No one needed the stress of taking care of her while they too were struggling. 

“He hasn’t said anything,” Ron said, filling the silence. Ginny realized her eyes had not left the back door George exited. “Charlie went back to Hogwarts to convince him to leave. He got back maybe 20 minutes before you did.”

Ginny wouldn’t know what to say either when everyone looked at you like they were seeing a ghost.

“Where’s everyone else?” Ginny asked.

Ron nodded to the back door. “Bill and Fleur are out back. They checked the house for curses, but haven’t finished the rest of the property.” He pointed to the stairs next. “Mum’s up in her room. I imagine now that dad is back, she will spend the rest of the day in the kitchen. She shares her love through food, you know. And I think she has a lot of love she will want to share.”

Ron’s prediction that Molly Weasley would cook a feast for dinner was not far off. A few hours later, everyone was crammed at the table, along with enough food to feed them for days. Harry sat next to her with a plate stacked full. Throughout their meal, they exchanged casual brushes and quick glances. 

“What are Kingsley’s plans with the Ministry?” Harry asked her dad as he passed the salad bowl to her.

“There is a lot to figure out. The Ministry was corrupted, that is no secret.” Percy kept his head down, avoiding the gaze of his father. Arthur took a bite of his chicken before continuing, “It is fair to assume there will be trials, but those probably won’t occur until later this summer. First, the physical damages of the war need to be fixed before the government can fix itself. Kingsley is working with Gawain to assess the damage first.”

“Do we know how many people lost their lives?” Bill asked.

Arthur shook his head. “It is unclear. There are still those unaccounted for in addition to those in critical care at Saint Mungos. But right now the number is at 43, not including Death Eaters.” 

The clattering of silverware halted. Silence overcame the table as the magnitude of the battle overcame them. 

“Excuse me,” Harry stood, tossing his fork on his half finished plate of food. He crossed the kitchen and made his way up the stairs, not bothering to look back at any of them. 

Ron silently stood too, following Harry up. Hermione paused, eyes following Ron, but she stayed in her seat. “He will be fine,” Hermione reassured the table, not making eye contact with any direct member of the Weasley family as she spoke. 

The table remained awkwardly quiet for the rest of the meal. Fleur spoke of Shell Cottage to fill the silence. Ginny excused herself to her room as soon as she felt appropriate to leave. 

“I will be right back,” Hermione said as she passed Ginny’s bedroom door later that evening, two plates of food balanced on her arm. 

Ginny nodded and continued to get ready for bed. By the time Hermione returned, Ginny had already tucked herself into bed, facing the wall. Hermione silently dressed for bed. “Goodnight, Ginny.”

Her circadian clock was off. Even though her entire body felt exhausted, Ginny lay awake staring up at the cracked ceiling of her own bedroom for hours. Sleeping at Muriel’s threw her off. In other circumstances, she would have taken this opportunity for a night flight. But she didn't feel safe flying alone tonight. Her mum would also be worried sick if she found out Ginny went out alone unsupervised in the middle of the night. Ginny did not need to be an added reason for her mother's stress right now. 

So instead she shifted in her bed, trying to drift off to sleep. Counting Hermione's rhythmic breaths as she slept on the cot next to her bed. 

One.

Two.

In.

Out.

Ginny tried to prevent her thoughts from drifting to anything depressing. No Fred, no Hogwarts, not even her childhood home. So instead she tried to make her mind go blank, to think of absolutely nothing besides the sound of Hermione’s breath.

Her counts of Hermione’s breaths quickened. “No, please no!” 

“Hermione?” Ginny leaned over the edge to peer down at her friend. Her face was twisted in distress. The faded quilt was thrown off her body as she tossed and turned in her sleep. “It’s fake! Please stop!” a blood curdling, terrible scream escaped Hermione’s lips. 

Hermione bolted straight up, eyes widened in fear, her hand reached for her right forearm. Ginny crawled out of her bed, squeezing next to Hermione on the cot. Tentatively, she reached out, stroking her back. 

Hermione flinched away from her touch before finally relaxing. She tugged the sleeves of her jumper down her arms and pulled her knees into her chest. Ginny continued to try to provide comfort to her friend.

After a few minutes of silence, Hermione finally looked at her. “Sorry.”

Wrapping Hermione into an embrace, Ginny whispered, “You have no need to apologize. I wasn’t even asleep.”

Hermione hummed. “Bellatrix, well…” she trailed off, staring out the bedroom window. The quarter moon provided minimal light in Ginny’s bedroom, so Ginny could hardly make out the look on Hermione’s face. “Nevermind,” Hermione finished, pushing herself away from Ginny, standing. “I’m going to go sleep upstairs, so you can get some rest. Goodnight Ginny.”

She grabbed her wand and bolted out the door, leaving Ginny all alone. 

Ginny sighed and crawled back into her own bed. She punched her lumpy pillow, trying to find a comfortable enough position to drift off to sleep. With Hermione gone, she lost her distraction from letting her mind run wild. Now, thoughts of Bellatrix infiltrated her head. 

Chaos reigned. Flashes of lights of every color surrounded her. She fired off spells at any person still cowardly enough to hide their face behind a mask. Harry was dead, but Tom had not won. She would make sure of it. Ginny caught sight of her wild mane of black hair before she saw her face. Firing off a cascade of curses, each aimed for Tom’s right-hand woman, each somehow deflected with ease. Bellatrix gave her a wicked smile, and for a moment Ginny wondered if Bellatrix knew exactly who she was and why she was so distraught. Hermione and Luna joined her side to fight Bellatrix. A streak of green passed her head, and for a moment, Ginny thought she would finally be at peace.

All good judgment she made hours prior about not flying tonight was out the window. She needed out.

Shoving her feet in her trainers and grabbing a jumper to combat the cool May evening air, Ginny quickly slipped out of her bedroom. Taking the stairs two at a time, pushing open the backdoor, and sprinting the moment she stepped out into the night. 

With no one to tend to it in over a month and Death Eaters to trample it to the ground, the orchard was a disaster. Apples littered the ground, the sweet fruit squashed underfoot. The burnt grass damp with dew. 

The broom closet smelled musty. Thankfully,  it appeared untouched. Ginny grabbed an old Cleansweep, swinging one leg over the handle in a fluid motion. Her feet firmly placed on the ground, inhaling the cold air, she pushed off into the dark sky. 

The common phrase “It’s like riding a broom,” never fit so eloquently. Months away from the sky, and it is almost like she had never left. She pressed her chest closer to the handle to center her gravity, and she was soaring. Past the treeline and the top of her home, she flew lazy laps. Circling the property, spiraling in the open air. 

Her lungs expanded with cold air, her heart kicked faster with adrenaline, and her mind forgot old haunts. She felt invincible. She felt alive. 

Slowly, she looped closer to the ground. 

She noticed his dark hair first. 

Once she flew within earshot, Harry started to speak. “Imagine my surprise to be awoken in the middle of the night to the sound of your brother snogging.”

For the first time in days, Ginny smiled "I hope it wasn't with the picture of Aunt Muriel he keeps stashed under his pillow.”

A laugh escaped Harry’s lips. It was one of the most joyous sounds Ginny ever heard. "I think he finally has reason to dispose of that picture."

“Oh?” Ginny questioned, the tips of her toes grazing the grass as she hovered closer to him. 

The corner of Harry’s mouth quirked up, “Your brother is snogging Hermione Granger.”

“When did that happen? Oh, you haven’t been stuck third wheeling them this entire time have you?” Ginny asked, sympathetically patting Harry’s arm. 

Harry looked down at where Ginny was touching him, slowly moving his other hand up to give her fingers a gentle squeeze. Ginny sucked in a breath. 

He shook his head, letting go of her hand, “They didn’t snog until yesterday.”

“But yesterday was the ba-”

“Exactly,” Harry said, interrupting her. “How long have you been out here?”

"I couldn’t sleep, and Hermione had a nightmare,” she said, shaking her head. “It was Bellatrix. That's all that I know."

A dark look crossed Harry’s features. "I can only imagine."

Ginny did not push further. It wasn't Harry’s secret to tell, nor was it her's to know. 

Instead, she slid off the Cleansweep and took a seat next to him. Enough space to not touch, but enough to feel the electricity between them. The hairs on her arm stood straight up. All day, tension wrung between them. Each touch sparked every nerve in her body. For months, she dreamt about what she would do when she saw him again, and now she was too overwhelmed to act. 

They sat in the silence, staring up at the stars. As each second ticked by, she became more and more unsure how to express how much she missed him. Harry shifted beside her, and Ginny braved a glance to peek over at him only to find his bright, green eyes focused on her. 

He hesitated for only a moment before his signature look of determination swept across his features. A look found right before doing something brave and stupid. 

And then he kissed her.

If Ginny thought it was easy to return to flying after time away, nothing compared to kissing Harry. The feel of his mouth slanted against hers felt like coming home. Nothing was more natural. An instinct. Just like the instinct of Harry’s hands to wind in her hair and hers to press against his chest. 

No words were said aloud, but so much was shared within one kiss. They were always good at having silent conversations. A single look. A single touch. So many emotions and thoughts expressed between them in those moments. 

His hands in her hair. I missed you.

Her hands wrapped around his waist. Please don’t go again.

Their lips pressed together. I need you.

Eventually they broke apart after what could have been several days. Ginny always lost track of time when Harry kissed her. Pulling away, Ginny let out an uncharacteristic giggle, relishing in the warmth of an alive Harry. 

She shifted her weight, leaning against his side. Her head rest on his shoulder. His arms snaked around her waist. Slot against one another like no time had passed since those days spent by the lake. 

That is where they stayed until daylight broke over the horizon. 

Days were quiet. Planning funerals drained livelihood out of the Burrow. Ginny found herself helping where she could. Her mum was constantly cooking in the kitchen, so Ginny would help clean. She didn’t speak, she kept her thoughts to herself. When Harry was in the room, they moved like they were dancing. Never touching. 

Nights were loud. Hermione would leave her room after everyone officially went to bed to join Ron in his. That was when Ginny would sneak out to fly. Harry would join her minutes later, some joke on his lips about Ron and Hermione and how he wished maybe they went back to fighting. Then they would fly together or sit and talk. Eventually, they would fall asleep under the stars pressed into each other's arms, waking just at the crack of dawn to sneak back into their respective bedrooms. 

One bright morning, Ginny followed the scent of fresh breads and sweet sugar down to the kitchen. Her mum hunched over the oven, a faded floral apron tied loosely around her waist. Ginny would not be surprised if she barely missed her mum waking up to slave away in the kitchen right as her and Harry were sneaking back into their beds. 

“Morning, mum,” Ginny said, giving her mum a squeeze around the waist. 

“Good morning, dear,” her mum replied, leaning into her hug. “I would like you and Charlie to run some errands for me today.”

“Sure,” Ginny said, stealing a pastry from the counter. “What do you need?” She asked, mouth full of scone.

Her mum turned back to the oven to pull out a fresh pie. “I would love it if you could run some of these breads to some families for me. The Browns, the Deacons, and the Rivers. I believe Deacon’s daughter was in your year. Sophie was it?”

The scone in her mouth went stale. Bile rose, burning her throat on the way up. Ginny grabbed a napkin off the counter and spit out the mushed up pastry. “Yeah, Sophie,” Ginny’s voice wavered. She cleared the acid from her throat, pushing the sound of late night giggles about Hogwarts gossip out from her head. “I can do that for you. Where’s Charlie?”

After wrangling her second eldest brother from the yard, the pair apparated, Ginny tightly wrapping her hand around Charlie's arm, to the home of Ron’s ex girlfriend. 

Ever the introvert, Charlie left her to do all the talking and condolences. 

After giving her final sorrows to the Brown Family, Charlie grabbed her arm and apparated them to the small Wizarding village the Deacon’s lived. 

Ginny stumbles forward as her feet crashed into the stepping stones of her dead dormmates home. Steadying herself, Ginny wondered if she would ever get used to apparition. Flying makes sense. Apparating does not. 

Grabbing her brother’s arm, she turned him to face her, “Listen, let me do this house alone, yeah?”

Charlie gave her a look, questioning her judgment. “You know you aren’t of age and mum would slit my throat.”

“Please. She was my friend.” 

Something in her eyes must have given enough reasoning to Charlie to let her go alone. “I will wait over at the shop across the street. Meet me there when you’re done.”

Ginny pulled him into a hug, wrapping her arms around his thick waist. Charlie was the closest of her siblings to her own height, so she could rest her chin on his shoulder during the embrace. “I won’t be too long.”

She turned away from her brother, the pie her mother gave her rest carefully on her arm. Steadying herself with a shaky breath, she knocked.

A moment passed. And then another. Ginny held her breath as she waited. Maybe she would not have to face them. Maybe she could set the pie down on the step and turn her back and run away from the grief inside the home. But before Ginny could follow her intrusive thoughts, the door opened to a beautiful woman with short auburn hair and laugh lines carved into her face even though she looked as though she had not had a reason to laugh in a long time.

“Hello, my name is Ginn-”

“Ginny come in,” Sophie’s mum invited her in, opening the door wider for Ginny to slip inside. 

She shouldn’t be surprised that Mrs. Deacon knew who she was, a classmate of her daughters, a Weasley, a blood traitor whose family housed The Boy Who Lived for years. Ginny did not want to know what the exact reason was that Mrs. Deacon recognized her. 

“My mum made this for you,” Ginny said, offering the baked pie that would never fill the Sophie-sized hole in her heart. 

“Thank you, that is very sweet of her and sweet of you to drop it off.”

Sophie’s mum took the pie and set it on the kitchen counter filled with other condolence foods. Ginny felt nauseous at the sight. 

Ginny sat on the gray loveseat and turned away from the sight and took in the room around her. Light cascaded in and reflected off of the framed photos on the cream wall to brighten the room. Photos of Sophie and her little brother, Samuel, were everywhere. Together with a woman, who must have been their grandmother, standing in Diagon Alley. Sophie singing in the frog choir with her hair tucked back in her signature butterfly clips. Sam tugging on a much younger Sophie’s hair and running away. All moments forever to cycle on repeat, but to never be updated again.

The bile that she swallowed that morning began to rise again. 

“Would you like something to drink, dear?” Mrs. Deacon asked, pulling Ginny out of her reverie. 

“No, thank you,” Ginny replied, even though she could probably use a glass of water or a shot of firewhiskey.

A grunt from the door leading to the hallway alerted Ginny of Mr. Deacon’s presence. He was a tall man, not as tall as her own father, but much wider. He worked for the Ministry’s Portkey Office. Sophie often boasted about all the places her father traveled for work, and Ginny could see it. A man like him did not belong behind a desk. 

“Elric, this is Ginny. She is,” Mrs. Deacon paused, “She was one of Sophie’s classmates.”

Ginny stood to her feet, “Mr. Deacon, I am so sorry for your loss.”

Mr. Deacon waved his hand, his other rubbing his sternum like he too struggled with gastric reflux at the reminder of Sophie. 

“I too am sorry for yours. I heard you lost a brother.”

The grief of losing Fred washed over her again like a wave that quickly retreated into a cool, cold nothing. “Yes, I did. Thank you.” Ginny sat back down on the couch. The Deacons sat across from her, gripping each other’s hands. 

Silence swept over the room like a cloak. Thick, warm, and suffocating. 

Ginny broke the silence first.

“Sophie was-,” Ginny paused, clearing her throat, “she was a beautiful soul. Her voice lit up the dorm room. She would sing under her breath and she studied and then belt songs in the shower. She was wicked at potions and brilliant at Gobstones. She was one of my best friends, and I am so sorry for your loss.”

The all too familiar prickling sensation behind her eyes grew. Rapidly blinking, trying to keep the tears at bay, because she had so much more to say. So she pressed on. “I was there,” Ginny said, looking up to meet Mrs. Deacon’s eye. 

The scent of smoke encroached her olfactory system. The feel of Sophie’s manicured hand in her own haunted her skin. 

Ginny ignored the memories and pressed on. “When You-Know-Who asked for a pause, I went out to the ground to help.” The words recover bodies left unsaid. “I saw her lying there. She was alive, and she was asking for you. She loved you so much.” The tears building in her eyes escaped, rolling steadily down her cheeks. 

"They told us her body was recovered during The Silent Hour, but never by who," Mr. Deacon said, tears brimming his eyes. “Thank you, Ginny.”

The guilt bubbling in her gut was interrupted by footsteps bounding down the steps. Little, 12-year old, Samuel Deacon slid into the room.

“Ginny!” Samuel shouted, eyes filled with joy as though he were seeing a hero. And to him he probably was. She had not seen him in months. Thankfully, Samuel was long gone from Hogwarts during the battle, but the last time she saw him was forever ingrained in her brain. The memory seeped through her pores.

“Pain does not last forever,” Amycus Carrow said to a room full of scared students. “But the memory of it does.”  He sauntered across the front of the entrance hall, each step deliberate to draw out the dramatics of what he was saying. Ginny guessed he got this schtick from Tom. “Which is why it makes such an excellent punishment. You remember the pain, so maybe next time you won’t misbehave.” He turned to face her, smiling like a Grindylow ready to to entangle their prey within their long fingers. 

“Now can someone please tell me which illiterate idiot graffitied the walls?” Amycus’s voice echoes through the hall. Dozens of eyes stayed focused on the floor. “Was it you?” A finger pointing at a short Hufflepuff boy standing over in the corner. His eyes widened at being called out for a crime he never committed. 

“No,” the boy stuttered. 

“I don’t believe you,” Amycus sneered, clenching the collar of his cloak, dragging him out into the open. “What’s your name, boy?”

“Sa-Samuel,” the young boy managed to stutter out. 

“Well, Sa-Samuel, I hope you remember to never misbehave again.” With those words, Amycus lifted his wand.

Quickly shoving her hand into her bag, fumbling around searching for the jar of paint stashed at the bottom. Her fingers found the cool glass and she yanked it out and threw it at Amycus’s feet. 

He turned to meet her, and grinned. The Grindylow caught his prey. “I see I found the illiterate idiot.” He turned his wand to her face, “Crucio.”

“Sam, it is good to see you,” Ginny asked, voice overly pleasant. 

To Ginny’s horror, Mrs. Deacon said, “Samuel has told me a lot about you.” She smiled too warmly at her. Like she wasn’t the reason Sam was not almost cursed in the first place. Like she wasn’t the last one to see her daughter alive. Like she deserved forgiveness.

Ginny’s stomach turned and threatened to spill out on their carpet. She needed to leave. 

“Thank you so much for your hospitality. I do need to get going.”

Both of the Deacon’s stood immediately. 

“Of course,” Mrs. Deacon said. 

“Let me walk you out,” Mr. Deacon said. 

So Ginny let herself be ushered out. She kept her mouth clamped shut. Afraid to vomit out words along with her guts. 

As she reached the door, Mr. Deacon stopped her, “Sophie’s funeral is set on the thirteenth. We would love it if you could make it.”

Ginny couldn’t trust her words, so she nodded in agreement, and burst out the front door. As soon as the door closed, she broke out into a sprint, down to the corner shop where Charlie should be waiting for her. 

He was leaning against the side wall, lazily smoking a cigarette. 

"Take me home." Ginny said, walking past Charlie. 

"But we have one more-"

"Take me home."

Charlie paused before grabbing her arm and spinning on his heel. They arrived in front of the Burrow a second later. Ginny sprinted to the broom shed. Grabbing the closest broom, not even checking whose it belongs to, Ginny kicked off of the ground. 

She lapped the Burrow several times, streaking by as fast as the broom allowed her. Up in the air, she could blame her tears on the wind in her eyes instead of the guilt she felt in her heart. 

That night, she did not fly.

Hermione snuck out of the room, but Ginny stayed in her bed. Waiting. A soft knock on the door alerted her of his presence. Her bed shifted from his added weight. 

They avoided each other that day. Well really, Ginny avoided him and everyone else. Hiding in the sky, and when she was called inside by her mum, she hid in the kitchen. Charlie did not say anything to her, which was a blessing. Her mum did comment on the extra pie brought up, but a quick lie that the Rivers were not home avoided anymore questions. 

Harry’s arms snuck around her waist, pulling her against his chest. She tucked herself under his chin as he pressed his nose into her hair. Her hair was still damp from the shower she took earlier that evening, but she knew Harry would not care. In fact, he probably preferred it. The scent of her shampoo freshly washed into her hair. It calmed him. 

She wondered if he was struggling with what was going to happen tomorrow as much as she knew she would. 

But she did not ask.

Slowly, his breaths evened as he fell asleep behind her. And Ginny fell shortly after.

All mornings have been quiet since the battle at the Burrow. But none compared to this one. Outside, the morning fog was thick and suffocating. Inside, so was the silence. 

Weasley family members dressed in black to bury their loudest family member. 

When it was time, her father led the family to the grave. Walking in a line to the apparition line on the edge of the Burrow property, and one-by-one apparating to Fred’s final destination. Ginny stood and watched as her loved ones disappeared with a pop. Her dad stood by her side and lifted his arm. 

“Ready?”

No.

“Yes,” she said, gripping his arm. 

The graveyard was busier than she expected. Her family is large, but so was Fred’s impact. 

Old classmates of his, old teammates, old co-workers lined the chairs in the back. Professor McGonagall could be seen from her tall witch’s hat. Hagrid stood off to the side, already loudly sobbing. Ginny felt her tears join his. 

She made her way to the front and sat in her seat nestled between Ron and George. The same small wizard that preached at Dumbledore’s funeral and Bill’s wedding stood in the front. A twisted thought crossed her mind about how busy that man is during this week. 

And he talked in platitudes. He talked about his sacrifice, how he was a light in the family. But never really about Fred. Ginny wished she had taken the time to write something, then maybe Fred would have gotten the send off he deserved. 

George gripped her hand near the end of the small wizard’s speech. “Are you ready to see some magic?” 

Ginny grinned, a warmth spreading across her chest. “Always.”

George grinned back at her, reaching into his pocket, pulling out his wand. With a small flick of his wrist. A bang behind the gravestones went off.

Gasps wrang out from behind her. Aunt Muriel gave out a shriek of terror, as fireworks lit up the foggy sky. 

Sparks flew above her, spelling out the initials F.W. And for the first time all week, Ginny was  crying, but she was not upset by it. 

After the funeral, the mood was much brighter, the fog outside lifted with the smoke of the fireworks, and Ginny could feel like she could breathe again. 

Slowly, the crowd began to thin. Angelina grabbed George’s arm and loudly declared that they were going to the Leaky to celebrate Fred’s life and a group followed her. Bill, Charlie, and Fleur followed shortly after them. After a moment of contemplation, Percy followed suit. 

Her mother gave her a kiss on the cheek before heading further into the graveyard to where her brothers lay. Her father followed a few steps behind her. 

Ron and Hermione were still sitting in their seats. Their chairs were now pushed impossibly close together as Hermione almost sat on Ron’s lap with her head tucked against his chest, and Ron’s face pressed into her hair. Masking the tears that he was shedding.

Ginny steadily made her way up to Fred’s grave. Ash sprinkled the grass from the firework show. She lowered herself to the ground, sitting to the right of the gravestone. 

“Hey, Forge,” Ginny murmured, closing her eyes and resting her head on the stone. “Miss you.”

Ginny slowly descended down the stairs, unsure exactly which one would creak under her step. She wasn’t sure who would be worse to alert of her late night excursion: her mother or her great aunt. 

All she wanted to do was see them and not just take Bill’s word for it that they were safe. Luna. Dean. Hermione. Ron. And of course Harry. Mum nearly locked her in her bedroom when Ginny asked to go to Shell Cottage. 

So now she was sneaking to the fireplace in the middle of the night to floo her way over to Shell Cottage. A task significantly less dangerous than any of the times she snuck out in the middle of the night this last year. 

The third from the bottom step let out a loud groan. 

“Shit.”

“Going somewhere?” A voice from the top of the stairs called down to her. Thankfully, it was the person who would most likely go with her on this adventure.

“I thought getting some nice fresh, saltwater air would be nice at this time of night. Want to come along?” Ginny asked, nodding her head to the living room.

Fred quickly descended the stairs, uncaring if he woke the entire house along the way. 

"Is that the plan then? Run off to Shell Cottage without letting anyone know where you're going?"

"You know."

"I know because I caught you sneaking out," Fred retorted. "And when mum and dad wake in the morning and find your bed empty? What will you do after they chain you to your bed?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, "They won't tie me to the bed." 

"No, probably not, but you won't be let out of their sight. And when the time comes when it is important for you to sneak out, you won't be able to." 

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked, hating that she didn't understand. 

"I'm saying, wait. Wait until something big. I will go with you then. Not when you're sneaking out to see your boyfriend."

"Ex-boyfriend."

"I didn't realize you were sneaking off to see Thomas. Don't let me stop you then," Fred teased. 

"Oh, shove off," Ginny said, pushing his shoulder. 

Heavy footsteps pulled her from her thoughts. Harry stood above her, head of messy hair blocking the sun. He held his hand out, an offer to help her up. 

She took it, pulling herself up and into his arms in one fluid motion. He enveloped her in a hug, holding her tight against his chest. Ginny breathed in the scent of him. Woodsy and cool, like the morning air in the autumn. 

Reluctantly, she detangled herself from him, keeping her hand intertwined in his. There they stood, hand in hand, staring down at Fred Weasley’s grave.

Fred Weasley

1/4/1978 - 2/5/1998

Mischief

Harry gave her fingers a squeeze before letting go. He bent down in front of Fred’s grave. He paused for a second, before pulling out his wand, waving it carefully. A bouquet of daisies appeared in the dirt. Fresh and white. Harry stood, reaching back for her hand, but refusing to look at her. 

“Hermione and I went to my parent’s graves on Christmas. She did this,” Harry said, waving his hands at the flowers on the ground, “I thought Fred deserved some too.” He bent down and picked one from the ground, “Daisies mean new beginnings.” 

He shifted his weight, "or at least that's what Hermione told me when she showed me how to do the spell."

Ginny’s gut twisted into a knot. "They're beautiful," was all she could muster out. She wasn't sure she wanted a new beginning. She wanted to start all over. 

"For you," Harry said, handing her a single flower. 

Ginny smiled and accepted the pity flower. Harry didn't believe in the pity flowers either, but it was thoughtful, so Ginny tucked it into her pocket. 

When she got home later that night, she tossed it into her windowsill. With hope that maybe the rest of the summer improved from the beginning. 

The next several days were spent in mourning. Traveling from funeral to funeral. 

Colin’s funeral was hard because she spent 30 minutes before leaving being coached by Hermione on the intricacies of a muggle funeral. Obviously, no fireworks like Fred’s nor an ablaze casket like at Dumbledore’s. But instead a metal contraption that would slowly lower his wooden casket into the ground. 

She sat near front on the side with Neville and Seamus on either side of her. Harry with Ron and Hermione in the back, trying to keep attention off of them as much as possible. 

Ginny grieved for her friend. Her Herbology partner. The person who never tired answering her questions about the Muggle World. The same sinking feeling that ebbed and flowed in her since the battle came back. She was the reason why he lost half of his first year lying petrified in the hospital wing. Tom was the reason he lost the rest of his life.

Tonks and Remus’s funerals were next. Members of the Order carried both caskets. Kingsley had tears streaming down his face with Tonks’ casket on his shoulders. Her dad looked more tired than usual under the weight of Remus’s casket. 

Only one other gravestone stood in the ground on the plot of land. Tonks’ final resting place lay next to the empty grave of her father whose body was never recovered. 

In the last row sat Andromeda cradling a young Teddy Lupin. Remus showed her a picture of young Teddy when he visited the Weasley’s at Muriel’s place. Then, his hair was a bright orange. Now, it lacked any sign of vibrance, instead he wore Remus’s signature sandy hair. 

Next to Andromeda sat Narcissa, poised, dressed head to toe in expensive black robes. Looking every bit out of place Ginny is sure she felt.

Harry did a double-take after he noticed her next to his godson. Ginny reached forward and laced her fingers with his, offering a squeeze of comfort. On the other side of Harry, Ron pulled Hermione closer to his body. 

Instead of the small wizard, Kingsley stood in front of the graves and gave a speech about hope and love and loss. A personal story about Tonks catching a death eater by tripping on top of him was interrupted by wails coming from the back row.

Little Teddy’s uncontrollable sobs echoed in the cemetery. Andromeda tried shushing him to no avail. Narcissa stood, offering a hand, a moment passed before Andromeda passed over her grandson to her sister. Narcissa carried Teddy further away from the funeral and whispers of the guests.

“She has no right,” hissed Ron. 

“It’s fine,” Harry replied, his leg bouncing, looking everything but fine. 

Kingsley continued on with Teddy’s sobs quieted by distance. Ron kept anxiously looking over his shoulder back at Narcissa while Hermione stared straight forward. Harry leaned forward in his seat, releasing his grip on her hand. 

Ginny, for her part, kept listening to Kingsley and silently wondered if she would ever fully understand what happened with those three last year. 

The funeral ended with Kingsley and Gawain Robards casting golden sparks at the pair of caskets before they slowly descended into the ground. 

Gradually, the crowd began to thin out. Narcissa carefully returned to her sister’s side off in the back, swaying back and forth, cradling a sleepy Teddy in her arms. 

Harry stood and started to make his way back towards where his Godson was. 

“Mr. Potter. May I have a word?” Gawain Robards asked. 

Harry froze momentarily, and Ginny wondered if he was going to tell the Head Auror to fuck right off before he calmly nodded. Robards stuck out his hand, leading Harry away from the crowds, in the opposite direction of Narcissa Malfoy. 

Ginny stood frozen next to Ron and Hermione, both just as conflicted as she felt on whether they should eavesdrop on Robards and Harry’s conversation or confront Mrs. Malfoy. 

Her mum approached the Black sisters. Ginny snuck over to the back, Ron and Hermione following her closely, ready to witness whatever drama could unfold between Molly Weasley and Narcissa Malfoy. But instead of sharp words or curses shot from wands, her mum swept both Andy and Narcissa into a warm embrace

“I am so sorry about your sister,” Mum said, pulling away from the Black sisters. 

Narcissa placed a hand on her mum’s arm, “We do anything to protect our children.” She gave Andromeda a curt nod and took a slender finger to brush Teddy’s cheek. “I won’t intrude any longer than I meant to. It was good to see you, Andy.”

With a pop, Narcissa disappeared.

Harry stormed by a few seconds later, Robards still standing where Harry left him, hand rubbing the bridge of his nose. 

“Harry?” Hermione’s voice questioned.

“Later,” Harry shortly replied before apparating off, not even sparing Ginny a second glance. 

Hermione sighed, turning to Ron. “Ready?” Ron gripped her hand and then both disappeared with another pop. 

“Wanker,” Ginny muttered under her breath, “You were supposed to apparate me home.” 

Kicking a rock on the ground, Ginny begrudgingly walked back to where her mother was now rocking Teddy. 

On the thirteenth, Ginny dressed once again in black. Hermione and her traded their black robes so they were not wearing the exact same outfit to every funeral they attended. By the fourth day of funerals, Fleur was offering her wardrobe to them as well, altering her clothes to fit their bodies. 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione attended every funeral, each of them feeling like they owed it to the witch or wizard who lost their life. Just yesterday, they attended the funeral of a Slytherin fifth year girl that none of them had even met. Ginny joined them most days. Harry side-along apparating her to the graveyard. Occasionally, other members of the D.A. would be in attendance and Ginny would stand next to them. 

Harry planned on arriving right before the funeral started, but Ginny wanted to be there as early as possible. Hermione’s heels clicked as she walked down the Burrow steps into the kitchen. “Ready, Ginny?”

Together they apparated to a large wizarding cemetery. A place where thousands of purebloods were buried before. A place that currently had an unusually high amount of fresh mounds of dirt and 6 foot holes due to the significant amount of deaths during the war. 

Ginny found her dormmates immediately. Jessica embracing Elise with Athena rubbing circles on her back. They all looked up as Ginny and Hermione approached the trio.

Jessica let go of Elise to engulf Ginny into a hug. "I am so sorry about Fred, Ginny."

"Thank you, Jess."

Jessica paused before wrapping Hermione in a hug as well.

Athena pulled something out of her pocket and placed it in Ginny’s hand. 

"Here."

Opening her palm, Ginny felt that familiar tug of her gut. In her hand was a green butterfly clip, similar to the ones Sophie often donned in her hair. Looking up, she saw her roommates all had one clipped in their hair as well.

"Thank you," Ginny choked out, clipping her loose strands back. 

"Do you want to sit with us?" Athena asked Hermione. 

Hermione shook her head, "Thank you for the invite, but Ron and Harry should be arriving soon. I will sit with them in the back. You four should sit together."

Hermione gave Ginny’s shoulder a squeeze before walking to the back row of chairs.

The funeral started not too long later. Ginny pressed between Athena and Elise near the front. The four dormmates held hands the entire time, offering gentle squeezes of support to one another as they buried their friend. Little Samuel Deacon sobbed throughout the entire procession, and Ginny wished nothing more than him to have his sister back.

Ginny stayed back after the funeral to watch Harry approach the Deacon family. It was something he did after every burial, apologize to the family. Ginny wished Harry understood that Sophie’s death was not his fault. 

Samuel turned away from his parents and gave her a small wave. Ginny lifted her hand, but turned away. The nausea associated with Sophie was churning in her stomach once again. 

That night, with her back pressed against Harry’s chest and one of his arms draped across her churning stomach, she lay frozen still.

"You okay?" Harry murmured in her ear.

She wasn't, but she couldn't admit that secret out loud. Especially to the person who carried so much more guilt than she could even begin to imagine. So she lied.

"I'm fine."

Harry had no reason to believe her lie, since it was his favorite lie to tell too. But he pretended for her, pulling her closer to his chest, pressing his lips to the back of her skull.

Not shortly after, his breaths evened out as he was lulled to sleep. Ginny’s brain was ignited on fire, keeping her awake.

“I know, it’s going to be alright,” Ginny lied. Sophie continued to whimper in pain. Ginny could only bear to look at her face, scared of what the rest of her crushed body may look like. 

“I want to go home,” Sophie cried out, tears leaking down her face. Ginny felt tears well up in her eyes too. 

A sound from behind her drew her away from her dying friend. Ginny couldn’t see anyone, but something in her wanted to get up and follow. 

Sophie’s weak cough drew her back in. Blood tinged on her lips, her face losing color as each second passed. “Will you stay with me until I go?” Sophie asked, her voice childlike. She is just a child, Ginny realized. At 17 years old, there was so much Sophie never experienced. So many people Sophie was leaving behind. Ginny’s gut flipped realizing this is why her own mother wanted her to stay hidden.

“Of course,” Ginny choked out.

Sophie’s fingers managed to find Ginny’s. “It’s okay, Gin. You were one of my best of friends.”

Ginny snapped herself out of the memory. Harry still wrapped tightly around her, his heat radiating off his body suffocating her. She wrestled herself out from underneath him, desperately trying to not wake him. She needed fresh air.

Barefoot in the grass, Ginny padded to the paddock and grabbed her broom. She took flight and hoped the night air could cool the fire she felt in her brain.

As the sun began to crack streaks of light in the sky, Ginny crept back into her bedroom. Harry softly snored in her sheets. Ginny smiled as she slid back into his arms. She had been awake for nearly 24 hours, her brain was finally exhausted enough to finally fall asleep.

With no more funerals to attend, the rest of May trickled by. Everyone was stagnant with grief, finding it difficult to progress on. Charlie was growing restless, staying now at Shell Cottage with Bill and Fleur, but not feeling like he could abandon the family back in Romania just yet. Every time he mentioned the country, her mum would burst into tears. 

Percy was just there. All the time. He and her dad would attend work, but then he would always come back to the Burrow instead of his own apartment.

Ginny sat with George most days. They had a quiet understanding that talking was the last thing either one of them wanted to do. A few days a week, they would go to Weasleys' Wizards Wheezes and organize the mess. Some days, Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson would stop by and help up, filling in the silence with endless chatter. Other days, the pair would sit on the front counter, passing back and forth a bottle of butterbeer with the radio blasting Wizard Rock in the background. 

Ron and Hermione were wrapped around each other at all times of the day. One couldn't even use the toilet without the other hovering nearby on the stairwell.

She had not seen Harry in days due to conflicting schedules. He would fall asleep in her bed after a long day of performing bullshit politics with Kingsley, and Ginny would join him after her nightly flight. When she finally rose in the late morning, his side of her bed would be cold.

Moments alone were rare, and those moments were spent exploring each other's bodies instead of exploring each other's thoughts. They were two vastly different novels only sharing a page with one another and then snapping the book shut before either one could read any further. So Ginny came to her own conclusions. 

The burn marks on his thighs were fresh as though his escape dragon from Gringotts scorched him. The ribs she traced with finger in the dark told her that food was scarce. The lightning shaped scar on his chest told a horror story she didn't want to touch with a ten foot pole. The erythematous circle branded into his chest was the most confusing part of his story. 

Ginny hated to think what conclusions Harry was drawing from her body.

On a cool evening in late May, Ginny decided to actually retire to bed at a reasonable time. The sky had opened into a massive thunderstorm which was not relenting any time soon. Harry and her had played a round of Exploding Snap earlier in the day to pass the time. 

"Are you falling asleep with me tonight?" Harry asked, bare legs crossed on her bed, his hand propped behind his head. He looked so casual, like her bed was his own. 

"Only if you promise not to snore tonight," Ginny teased. 

A pillow flew at her face. Ginny snapped it from the air and threw it right back into Harry’s face. With glasses askew and a smile tugging at his lips, Harry reached out a hand to her.

She eagerly took it, being led to her own bed.

Ginny melted into Harry’s side, his hands immediately resting on her hips pulling her close. She tilted her chin to slot her lips against his.

This part was easy. Harry’s body was a map she had traced and memorized a year ago, and, during the quiet dark nights in her dorm room, she recited to herself. 

His lips were soft and chapped. Teeth grazing her own lips, threatening to roughen her up with a bite or two. His chest pressed against her own. His hands, one always wrapped around a strand of her hair, tugging her whenever she pressed up against him just right. His strong thighs, one always slotted in between her legs.

That was the mantra she replayed in her head over and over while her fingers wandered down her skin last year. 

But now, in the dark of her warm bedroom, it was Harry’s fingers trailing down her body. 

“You’re perfect,” Harry murmured into her collarbone as she moaned his name. 

Ginny came undone with the touch of his fingertips, her world bursting, once again, into a fire. Her insides ignited for Harry. She felt far from perfect, but with Harry she felt alive.

Her hands worked to remove his faded T-shirt, eager to return the favor. Fingers trailed down his chest, avoiding the new scars on his body. She wrapped her hand around his length and Harry’s breath hitched, a noise escaping his mouth that Ginny wanted to bottle up and savor forever. He never had to say anything to her ever again as long as he kept making that noise. 

“Ginny,” Harry moaned, “I don’t think I will last much long-”

Ginny shut him up by capturing his mouth with her own. Teeth grazing his swollen lips. With a few more pumps, Harry shuddered about another moan that made Ginny’s toes curl. 

Harry blinked his eyes open, green irises hidden behind his black pupils, staring hungerly at her. He pressed lazy kisses along her jawline, nose, forehead, before finally catching her lips. “You make me forget everything bad,” Harry sighed into her lips. 

Ginny’s insides turned cold, the blazing heat evaporated and replaced by an icy tundra. She wasn’t sure why, Harry’s confession or the idea of forgetting, losing memories. 

“Goodnight, Harry,” Ginny said, hoping to prevent any more confessions from slipping through his loose lips. 

“Night, Gin” Harry replied softly. 

Harry’s bare chest rose and fell with each breath, and Ginny wished nothing more than the ability to join him in unconsciousness. Her finger traced the lightning bolt on his chest, her own chest tightening with memories of that day. She thought she lost him. The final blow in a series of blows that kept hitting her over and over again that night. 

With everything she lost, she had to keep taking steps. One at a time. 

One breath in. One breath out. 

Ginny glanced out her window. The rain had slowed to a trickle. The blooming daisy sitting in the window sill caught her eye. She bolted up from her bed, grabbing the flower on her way out the door. 

The orchard was still a mess. Her mum had removed the destroyed flowers, but all that was left was upturned earth. Falling to her hands and knees, Ginny dug in the soil. A wand would have made it easier, but she did not want easy.  

Taking a step back and admiring her work, the daisy Harry had given her now rooted in the soil of the orchard. Alone. With a promise of growth.

To new beginnings. 

The best and worst day of June (chapter 2)

If May trickled slowly like the water on the River Styx, June crashed in like a tsunami under Poseidon's rage. 

The back door slammed close after George drunkenly stumbly out 

Maps of Australia and pictures of the brain were pinned up on her walls. Gwenog Jones’s face was covered by a colorful poster highlighting the anatomy of the brain. 

“Do you need any help?” Ginny asked.

Hermione tutted, wrapping her hair into a bun and sticking her want through it. “I wouldn’t mind a fresh pair of eyes. Thanks.”

Ginny picked up one of the massive textbook with a brain on the cover Charms of the Central Nervous System: Don’t be Nervous! Opening to the back glossary, Ginny scanned the O’s until she found what she was looking for.

Peering over her shoulder, Hermione said “I didn’t obliviate my parents’ memories. I blocked them.” 

“What’s the difference?”

Hermione stood from the bed and walked over to the brain poster covering Gwenog’s face. “Obliviation destroys old memories. Burns them. That is why Gilderoy Lockhart will never fully recover because so much of his brain was destroyed. If little bits are taken then there is some neuroplasticity and ability to regenerate what was missing, but if I took 17 years of my parents' lives from them, I would never be able to get that back.” She paused, staring off into the distance, as though she was realizing the challenge she could be facing instead.

Shaking her head, Hermione continued. “So instead of taking away their memories, I hid them behind a wall.”

“The hippocampus stores memories,” Hermione said, pointing to a part of the brain that looked nothing like a seahorse. “So that is where my parents’ memories are being blocked. I just put their old memories behind a wall and put new memories in front of that wall.”

“There has not been a whole lot of research, but in theory, worst case scenario, if I remove their new memories too quickly, I could cause their brain to blow.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“Not like pew pew,” Hermione said, mimicking an explosion. “More like, their brains would swell to fill in the space of the memories that I took back. Which could cause their brain to expand and possibly herniate causing a stroke." 

She mindlessly flipped through the pages of the textbook, hoping something would give her hints about memory and memory loss.

Ginny drops comments every now and then about memory loss

She is not very happy that Hermione took her parents memories

“What are you planning on telling your parents when you see them?”

“That I am their daughter and I had to keep them safe.”

“Do you think they will understand?”

“From personal experience, amnesia and having your memories taken from you can be very traumatizing.”

“This is different from the diary, Ginny. I was trying to keep them safe.”

As we will find out in a later chapter, Ginny is not talking about the diary

"Are you going to go with them?" Ginny asks on a warm night.

"No, I don't fancy facing another Winter so soon," Harry replied

And there it was. A hint about what he had faced this past year, but neither one pushed forward. She could ask, and he might answer, but then he might ask the same of her. And that was something she did not want to answer. Some Gryffindor she is.

Harry tells her everything about the horcruxes and how we was one for the last 16 years of his life.

Ginny tells Harry very little about what she experienced this last year.

Hermione goes up to switch beds like they do every night and when Harry is lying next to her, she dreams about him. But when he talks she hears Tom. When she wakes and Harry is laying right next to her, she freaks the fuck out. 

The next day she runs away to Lunas

Luna “I always liked being outside. Now I love it even more. It is open, and bright. I’m not a big fan of the dark right now.”

“If you want to talk about it, I will happily listen.”

“Ginny, you are such a good listener, but not a very good talker.”

“You should tell Ron that. He says I never shut up.”

“Oh no you talk, you just don’t talk about what is bothering you. You ask questions about me or how other people are doing, but when people ask how you are doing. You deflect. You talk about how Quidditch is going, or how your family is. But never you.

A few nights later, Harry joins her out flying, and that is when she admits that she is afraid that she was never in love with Harry, but she was attracted to the horcrux within him this entire time.

Harry has to put his big boy pants on and try to be emotionally mature hearing that from her. (Boy does not do a very good job, but at least he is trying)

He tries to get her to open up more about what happened to her and slowly we start to see some things

She picked up a strand of grass, carefully pulling it apart into two separate pieces. A simple distraction. "What do you know of last year?"  

"Only what little Neville has told me."

"I'm sure what he told you paints the picture of what happened," she shrugged. She couldn't meet his gaze, she stared at the grass in her hand, delicately tying it into a knot. His hand reached for hers, fingers intertwining. He squeezed her hand gently, reassuringly. Offering support. 

---

She is hiding. She doesn’t want to talk to Harry, or see her mum’s broken face. So she is hiding in the one place no one would look. 

Laying on Fred’s bed, she could finally be alone. 

***enter depressing thoughts here***

---

On June 22nd, she dreams of Tom. She always dreams of him on this day. Their anniversary of meeting face to face in a chamber meant to be a secret. She wants to ask Harry if he remembers, but she doesn't dare for the fear of what he might say. 

I forgot.

Lucky you.

So she keeps this nightmare to herself just like she kept the past year to herself. She felt like she was slowly becoming a chamber full of secrets herself.

That night, with her back against Harry’s chest and one of his arms draped across her stomach, was the first time she felt brave all day. In the dark where he couldn’t see her face, when they were alone, unlikely to be overheard since the house was asleep. She finally muttered the truth that haunted her.

“I'm the reason Sophie's dead.”

The only indication that Harry heard her was the pause in his breath. Harry’s arm tightened, pulling her impossibly closer to his chest. And because he understands her perfectly, he does not suggest that she possibly could not be a murderer, he asks a different question.

“Why do you think so?”

She inhales slowly, calming down her nerves. “I left her on the courtyard. We were fighting together, Colin and Seamus were also there. Spells were flying everywhere, and I lost her in the crowd. There just was so much chaos. Then a death eater was in front of me, I think it was Avery, firing curse after curse at me,” Ginny paused, flashes of that night playing over and over in her mind. “I fired a reducto at the arch above his head and it collapsed on top of him. But it caused a lot more damage. It wasn’t much later that Voldemort called for a pause. 

“After, well after, I went inside,” Ginny said, skipping over finding out about Fred’s death, “I went out to the courtyard to find survivors. To help. That is where I found her. Underneath the rubble that I caused.”

"You couldn’t have known.”

But Ginny felt like she should have known better. She knew innocent actions have consequences after surviving her first year

I've been down since July

In the cracks of light, I dreamed of you

The Great Depression 

Pieces of her life were black. Dark and missing and forgotten. She had soared to unimaginable heights to try to find them, but every time she thought she heard a whisper of a memory, it turned into his voice mocking her, or worse, her own voice laughing at her. 

Hermione and Ron come back from Australia

Hermione apologizes to Ginny because her mum cannot forgive her. Her dad had to play mediator in the argument.

Her parents are coming back to England eventually, but not yet. They wanted more time before returning home. 

Ron and Ginny conversation

"It's supposed to be easy. Harry and me. How it was before."

"What did you used to talk about."

"I tried prying once to know what he was up to with Dumbledore, but Harry not so subtly shut that down quickly.  So we stuck to safe topics. Quidditch, O.W.L.s, how maroon definitely isn't your color."

Ron scowled. 

Criminal Trials get announced for the Death Eaters and the date

A brown owl flew into the kitchen, dropping off the newest edition of the Daily Prophet on Hermione’s plate. She reached into her shorts pocket to trade a knut for the paper. Ron fed a small piece of his breakfast sausage to the owl as compensation as well. The owl gave a satisfied hoot before flapping its wings and flying out of the kitchen window. 

Ginny pointed her fork at her brother. "Who was the person I suggested you snogged for practice?"

"Are you seriously asking me security questions right now?"

"The Ron Weasley I know would never voluntarily give up some of his breakfast."

Ron stabbed his fork in another piece of sausage, taking the whole thing in his mouth, "Yeah well I've matured."

"Oh! They released the dates for the trails!" Hermione shouted, interrupting them. 

Ron looked away from her and turned back to his girlfriend. “When’s Malfoy’s?” He asked, kindly swallowing his food before asking. 

The Carrow trials get announced for like August 13th, making sure that they are AFTER Ginny's birthday which makes her an adult, therefore, she is required to speak at them if they summon her as a witness 

yeah this was done intentionally, fuck the ministry for forcing my girl to have to relive her trauma

Harry’s birthday 

Ginny gets drunk at Harry’s party

I love you, ain't that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?

August slipped away

Ginny’s birthday 

Carrow trials

Amycus was a man. He only understood pain in tears and in blood. He didn’t understand that to girls blood meant nothing more than washing their sheets that night before bed. He didn’t understand that girlhood was pain, or that tears could be shed from grief or laughter. 

Alecto was a woman. She understood that trauma of girlhood because no matter how horrid she currently is, she was a victim of it too. She understood how to torture a young girl scared of her past. She knew how to weaponize memories, or the lack thereof, so that Ginny could continue to torture herself without Alecto lifting another finger. 

Ginny turned to the other side of the courtroom where Amycus Carrow sat. His face emotionless, but his muddy eyes filled with glee, like her reliving her torture was *erotic* for him. 

She felt her heart quicken. Calm down.

Breathe in and out.

"Her brother told me."

Her mind brought her back to the floor of the DADA classroom. Those same hungry brown eyes staring down at her, his wand still raised. Every one of her nerve endings felt like it was on fire, every synapse filled with ice. Her mind bounced from one area of her body to the next, unable to focus on what body system hurt the most. Amycus lowered his wand and sneered down at her, "I know Alecto makes you forget her detentions, but I want this one to be unforgettable."

The courtroom was silent. The judge leaned forward in his chair, "Can you please further explain, Miss Weasley?"

Breathe In.

Out.

In.

Out.

• So since I never actually wrote what happened to Ginny during her time with Alecto, I will tell you all now. Alecto would erase Ginny's memory after every detention. Often times, the detentions were tame, because the punishment was the fact that Ginny was slowly losing her mind and she felt like she was reliving her first year at Hogwarts. Alecto figured out that Ginny was the girl in the chamber (because how would people not know this information? like Ginny wrote her suicide note on the wall in red paint) and used that to torment her. Also tying in the fact that Amycus was still torturing my poor girl with the cruciatus curse, Ginny was going through it. And it is not like she could really tell anyone what was happening to her because she didn't know what was happening to her. She eventually pieced it together.

• The coming together of Harry and Ginny officially 

You'll Have New Septembers

The epilogue where Harry sends Ginny off on the Hogwarts express

[cowgurrrl]

Everyone I’ve Never Met

Pairing: Ellie Williams x platonic fem!reader

Summary: “You can put your strength down. I’m sitting here with you at your kitchen table. You don’t need to say anything.” - Eden Robinson, Writing Prompts for the Broken-hearted aka you tell Ellie the truth [2k]

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, angsty angst angst, tumultuous parent/child relationship, references to what happened in Salt Lake City, talks about Anna, grief

She looks shocked when she opens the door to find you there. You smile and glance inside her little house, doing your best to keep the peace. 

"Can I come in?" You ask. She doesn't nod or say anything. She just turns on her heels and leaves the door open for you. You walk as though you're entering hollowed ground, gentle and quiet, so you don't disturb anything in her home. It's clean enough to support life, although you wish she would let you take her laundry from the corner it's piling up in. She stands awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen, and you smile at her again, hoping for a glimpse of that innocent girl you saw so much of five years ago. "How's Dina?"

"Why are you asking about her?" She clamps up.

"Just curious," You try to soothe her, but her shoulders are still by her ears. You take a deep breath and hold the thick file in your hands. "I know you're mad, but I've been working on something for a while and wanted you to have it." You say, placing it on the table next to her.

"What is it?"

"There were some people who owed me favors back in Boston. They were able to get me some information about your mother," you say. She looks confused but opens the folder anyway. "It was a shot in the dark. I didn't know how much they'd be able to find, but-"

"How were they even able to get all this stuff?" She asks as she sifts through the stack of papers. There's more than you thought there would be. Letters from patients that Anna helped, scraps of newspaper with her handwriting on them, a half-finished silly lullaby called Ellie's Belly. You wanted to cry when you read it. Few obstetricians practiced after Outbreak Day; even if they did, they needed the equipment to do sonograms. The likelihood that Anna knew she was having a girl before she gave birth was slim to none, but she still wrote this for her Ellie. Your heart hurts when you think about how much she loved the daughter she never got to raise. 

"Anna Williams had a lot of people who loved her. When she died, people were devastated. Made them cling to what they had left a little tighter. What did you know about her before this?"

"I knew she was a nurse and was friends with Marlene, but that was pretty much it. I have her knife and a letter she wrote me," she trails off as she picks up a faded Polaroid. She shows it to you hesitantly, like she's afraid you'll rip it up. "Is this her?"

"It was in with Marlene's stuff. I don't know if this was before the Outbreak or after," you glance between her and the smiling redhead, forever frozen in time. She looks kind with big green eyes and a big, toothy smile. She can't be more than twenty-two in the picture, and you wonder how far away she was from getting pregnant. "You look just like her." For half a second, Ellie grins. Her fingers trace the outline of her mother's features. You wish she were here. You wonder if you two would've gotten along, but it seems hard to imagine that you wouldn't if she's the woman who brought Ellie into the world. 

"Did you… were you able to find anything about my father?" 

"Nothing concrete. Some people said he was a FEDRA officer. Others said he was a smuggler passing through. She never said anything to anyone about who he might be," You watch her shoulders slump a little, and your fingers twitch to squeeze her. You don't. "I'm sorry." You say instead. She shakes her head and shrugs.

"It's fine." She says. It doesn't feel fine, but you nod anyway. You take a few steps toward her front door, suddenly feeling like you're intruding. 

"I can leave you with all this. I know it's a lot to take in."

"Wait," she stops you, looking up from the tiny ghosts of her mother, and the air seems to get trapped in your lungs. This is the most she's looked at you since she found out. "How is he?"

"He's okay. He misses you. We both miss you." 

"I miss you, too. This whole thing... it doesn't just have to do with you two. There's more that I'm trying to figure out."

"I get it. If you have any questions, I'll do my best to give you answers." 

"Thanks," she walks over to her cabinet and pulls down a big bottle of whiskey. You both sit at the table as she pours two healthy drinks. Joel probably wouldn't approve of you two drinking before patrol tomorrow, but you don't care. The silence is less uncomfortable now and feels the most normal in months. She sloshes the drink in her glass, a pensive look taking over her features, and you lean back in your chair to watch her. 

"I can hear you thinking." You say. She puffs air out of her nose in a quiet laugh and looks at you.

"Am I that obvious?"

"No, I just know you," it spills out of your mouth, and she chews the inside of her lip. "What's goin' on up there, kiddo?"

"Tell me what really happened that day." She says. You take a big sip of whiskey as you remember waking up in the Firefly hospital. A lot of it is still blurry, and you're not sure if things will ever get clearer. You don't know if your brain is protecting you from the horrors of that day or if you genuinely blacked out. What you can remember is bloody and riddled with shell casings, broken glass, and bodies. So many bodies.

"You're not gonna like it."

"That's not what I asked."

"Marlene and some Fireflies were in the room with us when we woke up after the smoke bomb went off. We wanted to see you, but she told us you were going into surgery and explained that they would crack your skull and pull the Cordyceps out of your brain to get what they needed for the cure. Just like that," you shake your head. You didn't realize how angry you still were at Marlene for deceiving all of you, for making you think she had a future when she never intended to let Ellie walk out of the hospital. "Something snapped in both of us. They pointed guns in our faces and were told to escort us out of the hospital and to the highway, but the Firefly soldiers walked us right past our stuff. They never had any intention of letting us live, so we did the only thing we knew how to do."

"Kill?"

"Survive," you correct, remembering the blind rage that overtook the both of you that day. "One of the guys grabbed me, and that was all Joel needed. I don't remember much else, but I know we made it out with you. I know we did horrible things and killed people because nobody mattered to us as much as you did. As much as you still do."

"Why did you choose me? You could've helped save the world. They would've hailed you and Joel as heroes, but now you're just here."

"During that first year, you became our world. You made us laugh and worry and love for the first time in years. It became an unspoken agreement that you were more important than us, that if it came down to saving you or either of us, we would always pick you," you say. "So that's what we did. We picked you. We saved our world. Fuck everyone else." 

"So many people have died because there isn't a vaccine. Riley, Tess, Sam," she takes a breath as she looks at that polaroid again. "My mother."

"And making one wasn't going to bring them back."

"So, you don't regret it?"

"I regret lying to you and how it's affected us, but I don't regret saving you."

"My life would've had meaning. You fucking took that from me."

"There was never any proof that the cure was going to work. They were experimenting. That's all they were ever going to do. Once we realized that, there wasn't a chance in hell that we were going to let them do that to you," you say. "If you were going to die in that hospital, we were going to die right alongside you."

"Maybe that would've been better." Hardened eyes bore into yours as she says it. She's unflinching, precise, and hits you right where it hurts. You’ve seen the same tactic in how she kills, in how you and Joel kill. The similarity makes you want to throw up.

"Maybe," you nod. "But, I would do it all over again, even knowing what I know now." Ellie shakes her head and takes a big sip of her drink. The silence that fills the space between you is unbearable. You want her to scream, to yell, to throw a tantrum. You want her to unleash all her anger so you can love her anyways. You want her to see that even as she yells and hates you, you'll still stand there and say, "I can take it. I'm not afraid of you because I know you and I love you.”

You don't know that you can ever forgive Marlene for putting so much weight on fourteen-year-old shoulders. Ellie was a kid. A kid with immense guilt who felt like the only way her life could have meaning was if she died because everyone she has ever loved had died. Even if you had the chance to go back and ask Ellie's opinion, you still think you would've done what you did. A teenager in that headspace is not the right person to make decisions about their mortality. But just because she's alive and has a new life doesn't mean the weight Marlene gave her is gone. If anything, it's gotten heavier, and she's gotten quieter. 

She rubs her eyes and bounces her knee under the table, a habit she picked up from you. She's exhausted and looks like she could start crying at any second. "I trusted you." She mumbles, sounding so much like the Ellie you met all those years ago. Your throat feels raw as you stare at her.

"I know," you say. Your voice is soft but not quite apologetic. "Ellie-"

"You were right. It's getting late, and we both have patrol in the morning, so you should go." She says, standing from her chair to put her empty glass in the sink. With her back to you, you look up at the ceiling to force the tears back into your eyes. You clear your throat and stand, but she doesn't turn. 

"Try to get some sleep," You say in place of "I love you," and she hums from the sink. Anna's smiling face watches you leave her Ellie's house and walk back out into the freezing night, feeling emptier than when you showed up. You glance through her window and find her still standing at the sink, clutching her stomach as her chest moves quickly. It looks like she’s having a panic attack. You want to go back in to soothe her, to hug her and tell her everything will be okay, before you remember that you probably caused the attack. You feel like you just got punched in the stomach as you go against your better judgement and start walking home.

You wonder if this is how it’s going to be for the rest of your lives— watching her life unfold behind glass, unable to do or say anything to make her feel better. At least, she’s alive, you try to remind yourself, but is it really living if she’s not sleeping, eating, or letting herself feel anything? Is it a life if she’s mourning every time she should’ve died but didn’t? Is it a life if you’re watching her slowly kill herself from behind glass, your desperate screaming falling upon deaf ears?

Or did the most important part of all three of you die in that hospital and you’re walking corpses? Does digging into a wound to find and name the bullet make the pain any better?

🍓

🍓

🍓

(June stop getting philosophical at the end of every fic challenge)

[mrs-murder-daddy]

hello! I'm very much enjoying your Little Women-inspired Band of Brothers fic so far. two of my favorite stories combined, and I love the way you've done it so far with introducing the four sisters. also, childhood friends to lovers is one of my favorite tropes and I'm really looking forward to seeing more of Vivian/Donnie 🥰💕

if you're still looking for requests, I do adore Don Malarkey, George Luz, and Joe Toye (your choice) - maybe something to do with fake dating for New Year's 🥳 (or another holiday of your preference), or something angsty with a happy ending, if that's more up your alley? thank you!

Hello hello sorry for disappearing for a while there! My mental health took a dive and then uni took over my life and my mental health crumbled like a paper bridge.

Some things: The longer fic will be here shortly I promise! I'm sorry this is so short, I'm just trying to get back in the swing of things now that I have a month-long break from uni. I tried to make this gender-neutral please let me know if I’ve missed something! I’ve also given Reader a sister for plot reasons but she is referred to by a nickname.

And thank you for your kind words about Little Women (chapter 3 coming ASAP)

Just a Boy Standing in Front of a Girl

George Luz x Reader

Obviously you hoped this day was coming. The war is over. You're going home. What you weren't expecting was having to leave George. You lived on complete opposite sides of the United States, and you weren't *together* per se. You were just friends. And friends say goodbye before leaving.

"Ey! There's my favourite medic!" He bounded up to you like a giddy child, searching your face to gauge if you heard the news.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he wrapped his around your waist.

"We're going home Georgie!"

He smiled brightly, "We're going home! What's the first thing you're gonna do?"

You pulled back, "Oh, I don't know actually. Maybe go see my sister."

"Not your ma?"

"My mother has been begging me to come home and marry some socialite for months now. Giggles is the only one in my family who's actually written to see if I'm okay."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Should I be expecting a wedding invitation?" His tone was joking, but you could see on his face the prospect worried him.

"Nope." You smiled softly. "Not for a long time."

"What are you going to tell her?"

"I don't know yet." You sighed through your nose. "But come on Georgie quit being a cold fish! Let's celebrate!"

He laughed as you took his hand and led him to your friends. Now was the time for fun.

George gave you his address and made you promise to write as much as you could. Sometimes the letters were short and sharp, updating each other on your lives. Sometimes they were long and heartfelt.

This latest letter he could have sworn there were tear stains on the paper.

Your mother had gotten suspicious of all your activity. She pressured you to find out just what was going on. You had to lie. She would never have approved of you corresponding with someone at this frequency if you weren't dating.

You panicked. You told her half-truths. You met George years ago at training, fell in love but kept it professional until you got home, and now you were separated by distance.

She gave a doubtful hum and offered to invite him to Giggles' birthday. A girl only turns 21 once after all.

You cried as you wrote to George, asking for forgiveness for throwing him under the bus. He simply replied that there was no need. He was excited to meet Giggles and see what all the fuss was about in your hometown.

You huffed a sad little laugh when he signed off 'the best lover on the East Coast.'

This was going to be... interesting.

It's hard to see him again, not only for the memories you would always associate with him, but also because he seemed happier. Some annoying part of your brain tells you he's happier without you. The grin on his face and the strong arms wrapped around you say otherwise.

Lord you have missed George. But he's missed you more.

You have this glow about you, and he knows that despite the pressures from your mother, you are happy. And when he meets Giggles he understands. She is sunshine in a pinafore. He feels his own mood lift, thankful that you have such a light in your life.

Dinner is a difficult affair, George seems to lay the PDA on thick. Your mother stares him down like a spider. Giggles teases you both to no end. You're halfway through a bottle of your favourite drink just to keep yourself occupied.

Giggles cracks open her first bottle of champagne and drags you into the kitchen to 'help her pour.'

She rounds on you, holding your wrists so she can lean in. "What was that?!"

You're taken aback, "What do you mean?"

"For two people who aren't actually dating, you sure look like you are."

You gasp and pull her as far away from the dining room as you can. "Giggles! What are you talking about?"

"Oh come on! I can see from a mile away you two would make each other so happy!"

"That's not the point! How do you know we're not really together?"

Your sister smiles sheepishly, "I may have looked through your letters- But! But! Hear me out. You two are meant for each other."

She actually pours some champagne, leaving you to your thoughts.

It's only later when George goes outside for a smoke that you can finally talk to him. Your mother had a little too much giggle juice and was sound asleep in her room. Your sister made herself scarce with a wink.

You steal the cigarette from his lips, take a drag and put it back. A habit from deep in the Ardennes forest.

He huffs a laugh and takes his own drag.

"I... I have something to tell you. And I need to get it all out first or I never will."

He nods a little apprehensively.

"I don't want this to be fake. I think I actually love you, not in the way I love Joe or Babe or any of those guys. I'm for real, long-haul, scary in love with you."

He begins to laugh.

Your heart is about to fall out of your ass.

Why is he laughing?

He stops, his face dropping when he sees your expression.

"Sweetheart, when you wrote to me, asking me to come here I went out and bought a ring." When your eyes widen, he reassures you. "I'm not proposing yet, I just need you to know I'm serious."

You smile brightly. He does too.

You look at his lips. He does too.

You lean forward. He does too.

And when your lips finally collide, a loud cheering erupts behind the the glass of the back door.

[hannahhook7744]

How did you pick the names for your Frollo kid OCs? Specifically in the Invisible Truth Universe, but if you wanna throw Eduardo in there too, I'd love to hear it.

Okay, so, starting with Eduardo...

Well, I named Eduardo Frollo after a friend I had in high school (with permission. He actually helped me build the character).

As for how I got his middle name, Michelangelo? Well, Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni was an Italian sculptor, painter, architect, and poet of the High Renaissance who is known for painting The Sistine Chapel ceiling (among other things).

It's a name I figured Frollo would begrudging 'allow' 'Edwin/Edmund/Edward' (as he insists on calling Eduardo) to keep as his middle name because of it's ties to their religion (Michelangelo also painted the painting 'The Creation of Adam'). But of course, because it's not a 'respectable catholic name' (to my knowledge) it would still make his eye twitch.

(You can tell I've had a lot of fun with this and put a lot of thought into it already, can't you?).

I also picked it because I thought it was a name that Eduardo's mother (who's character I based entirely off of this one shot @dragoneyes618 wrote for me a few years ago) would have liked. I picked his half brother, Luís Barbossa's, middle name 'Alejandro' for similar reasons (It has a meaning I like and it has ties to the religion too).

For Gigi Gothel (who is their parental half sibling), I choose the name Magnolia Marguerite (because they have the letters gi in both and also because Magnolia means 'flower' and Marguerite means 'pearl' which sounds like something Gothel would like). I made Gigi a nickname because while it is an actual name, I don't believe it's one Gothel would choice for her child (I mean look at her other kids name. Rapunzel and Cassandra. Sure, she didn't name Rapunzel as far as I'm aware, but she liked it enough to keep the name and assuming she choose Cassandra's name and not the father we never see of hers...Well, I'm just saying she likes fancy names. And before you come at me saying she named Ginny 'Ginny', that can be a nickname for Ginevra, Geneva, and others).

I kept Claudine's first name as Claudine because I can totally see Claude deciding to name his child after himself. But I also gave her the full name 'Claudine Esther-Mary Agnes Dymphna Frollo' because Esther and Mary are both names from Claude's culture that I can see him actually using. Her last two names were picked after two saints who's fates are too gruesome for me to include here.

Now, on to the ones I had the most fun naming!

Cesare Bartholomew Colmcille Frollo:

Cesare Borgia was an Italian cardinal and condottiero, an illegitimate son of Pope Alexander VI and member of the Spanish-Aragonese House of Borgia. 

I first learned of him through the horrible histories 'Addams Family-esq/parody' song 'The Borgia Family' and later learned more about him from the Puppet History video watcher released about him on Youtube. I watched both so often that I decided I wanted to give Claudine Frollo a sibling that existed in all canons of my universes and one that died horribly at that.

Which, Cesare Borgia did on March 12th, 1507 in a minor skirmish by attackers who didn't even know who he was.

Cesare Frollo was the first Frollo oc I created after Eduardo.

I choose to give him the middle name 'Bartholomew' after the martyr, Saint Bartholomew the Apostle, who was flayed alive after gaining the ire of the local king.

I gave him the second middle name 'Colmcille' after another saint, Saint Colmcille, whose remains were later disinterred and divided between Scotland and Ireland. It is also rumored that his bones are buried in Downpatrick, County Down, with St. Patrick and St. Brigid. Saint Colmcille was also exiled at one point.

I did this because not only did I think it would be ironic if Frollo named his kids after some figures in history from his religion who had horrible fates at some point/who were tied to his religion.

I carefully handpicked all of these names, as well as the next two siblings...

Cornel Thomas Howard Sebastian Frollo (formerly Gaskit):

I choose the name Cornel Gaskit because they had ties to Romani culture (based on what I could find, anyway. You never know with some sources on the internet, unfortunately) and well, I made Cornel's mother of Romani culture (which I am still trying to learn a lot about from reputable/reliable sources if anyone knows any) who's name I will be revealing in a later post.

I can no longer remember what Gaskit means but I chose it because I liked the meaning. I don't think the list I found it on still exists unfortunately and google is refusing to cooperate with me so I'll have to keep searching to find the meaning and if I do find the meaning, I'll let you guys know.

I choose the name Cornel because not only does it tie in to Romani culture from what I can find but it can also be lengthened to Cornel (which, of course, Frollo insists on doing because he's a bigoted asshole).

I chose the first middle name 'Thomas' after Saint Thomas the Martyr who was murdered in Canterbury Cathedral, by knights in the service of King Henry II of England. Because again, horrible death and fate.

I chose the second middle name 'Howard' after Saint Howard who lived during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I. He was charged with being a Roman Catholic, quitting England without leave, and sharing in Jesuit plots. For this, he was sent to the Tower of London in 1585. Howard spent ten years in the Tower, until his death from dysentery.

I chose the third middle name 'Sebastian' after Saint Sebastian, who was killed by the Roman emperor Diocletian for his Christian beliefs in 287 AD via arrows. So, another saint with a painful death.

Because again, I fully believe that Frollo would be the type to name his kids after saints/religious figures regardless of factors that would make others forgo those names.

Now, on to my absolute favorite Frollo kid oc and the last I made!

Cyriacus Ignatius Vladimir Frollo:

Cyriacus, the son of Cassandra the Seer and Claude Frollo, was named after Saint Cyriacus whose limbs were torn from their sockets before he was clubbed and beheaded.

I chose the first middle name 'Ignatius' after Saint Ignatius, who died of some kind of illness (sometimes stated to have originated from a wound of some kind).

Finally, I chose his second middle name 'Vladimir' after Saint  Vladimir the Great, the first Christian ruler of Kievan Rus,  who died of natural causes but whose body was dismembered and distributed to his sacred foundations to be venerated as relics.

Thanks for asking!

[evita-shelby]

Tie Your Heart to Mine

Chapter 15

Gif by @thecruel

Taglist: @thegreatdragonfruta @assortedseaglass @arcielee @peakyblindas

September 1st of 1939 finds them in bed.

Strange to know the world keeps on going even when something as catastrophic as a second Great War has begun.

“I can pull every string to get you out of the war.” Diane says after she finally mastered the French inhale he’s been teaching her all morning. To think Poland was invaded just moments ago and yet he and Diane are here wrapped in her sheets and sharing a fag after a good fuck.

“I think your old man would find a way to send me into the frontlines, especially if he knew the things I do to his innocent little princess.” Tom doesn’t say yes or no as he took a drag of his cigarette.

It isn’t like he wanted to go, but he would never last as a conchie and as much as his dad would be proud of him for following in his footsteps, Tom knows he isn’t cut out to be a pacifist.

Besides, Navy’s gonna stay in the ocean away from most of the fighting.

“And I’d follow you there, Tom.” Diane gave a small smile that told him she absolutely meant it. “Besides, I’m no innocent little princess.”

“Yeah, what are you then?” he asked drinking in the bold look in her blue and brown eyes.

“I am a witch.” She answered taking his cigarette in the blink of an eye to make her point.

Despite her resolve to leave Harry in the past, knowing he is in the heat of it has her fraying at the seams.

Charlie is nice, a good young man who dreams of being a member of parliament like his dad and could make Moseley shit his trousers with one of his charming smiles, but he is not Harry.

They are very similar and yet, talking to Charlie feels like she’s being disloyal to Harry.

“Don’t lead him on.” Tom warned tossing the mail on the table on his way in.

He didn’t like the idea of Charlie and her, Lois finds it too hypocritical of him considering she has never been against him being with Diane.

Tom had gone as far as using Diane and Charlie being a year younger than her as a reason it was a bad idea.

As if he wasn’t two entire years older than Dia.

“We’re just friends, I already told you.” Lois said as she opened the letter.

Charlie had joined the Birmingham Rifles because he knew most of the boys from Arrow village and Small Heath. He wrote about the officers going harder on him because he was a Shelby and he not minding because if succeeds in this then he has a bigger chance of being alive to see the war end.

“I was friends with plenty of girls who thought we were serious, Loo. If you are still hung up on Posh Boy, gotta be honest with Charlie so he knows not to lose his time with you.” Tom reminds her, as if his exploits hadn’t ruined some of her friendships.

When Thomas Michael Bennett discovered his looks and reputation of local bad boy could get girls like honey gets flies, it became a nightmare. Girls wanted to be her friend just so they could come visit for a chance to corner him and get him to take them out for a dance or even a walk. The moment Tom got bored of them and moved on to the next pretty girl, they dropped her like last week’s trash.

Even Harry couldn’t compete with him and when his date left him with a pink rose in his hand to go flirt with her brother, Lois supposed there was an upside to Tom thinking he was Longsight’s own Casanova.

“Oh, yes, because some nobody from Longsight can compete with Winston Churchill’s fucking daughter.” Lois rolled her eyes and decided she’d read the letter later, when Tom got bored of being here and returned to Diane’s place. Spends so much time with her, Diane had a whole drawer of his things and a set of his clothes in her wardrobe.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Lois. I have it on good authority that you turn heads everywhere you go.” Her brother points out with a bit guilt for making her feel insecure. No matter what he says, he always tries to make it better.

“So you say, Tom.” She’ll miss him when he leaves for the navy. It was always them against the world. Who’s going to take care of him in that big ship?

“You’re worried for Harry?” he asks knowing what’s really on her mind.

“Yeah, had to turn off the radio because that’s all everyone’s talking about.” All were speaking about the war, about the casualties, about the lies the Nazis were saying to justify it and when will their country declare war on Germany.

“Diane said all the diplomats and everyone else in the embassy are expected to leave Poland by the 3rd, that’s when we’re joining the war.” If it’s bothering him to know his time is coming closer and closer, Tom doesn’t show it. “You should expect Posh Boy in the audience by next week. Maybe seeing Shelby following you like a lovesick puppy might get his head out of his ass.”

“And where will you be, Romeo?” Lois asked knowing he’ll be there with Diane. He hardly missed her gigs now, not when he had someone to dance with.

“The Pen. I think, the dibble’s been trying to catch me doing anything since Di came back and they might just get their wish.”

[xoluvx]

hello my loveeee! I was the one that had a little query i need some help on. Thank u for hearing me out, okay it’s a long one so STRAP IN (not the smut kind HAHA) alrighty Welp here goes

I’m in love. And I’m in love with someone I can’t have. Last year I met this girl, she’s way older than me and is already in a committed relationship for years. But anyway. I Met her at work, she originally trained me up to do my job and then we bumped into eachother at a convention. Since that day we became friends and regularly (monthly and sometimes weekly) planned to see eachother. Eventually she left her job and moved to another role in the organisation so I still got to see her. Anyway, then we did a big group activity with another friend of hers and I had another friend of mine, but i told her I missed her cos i didn’t get a chance to talk properly. AnywYs, few months go by, still the same stuff happening it’s going fine. Altho She had some serious health issues with her family earlier in the year and I told her I was there for her if she needed ANYTHING. And then July comes by. Man. I probably had one of the worst weeks in July, and I didn’t even tell her half of it. She didn’t even ONCE say “oh I’m so sorry to hear about this I hope you’re ok, or NOTHING”,. Eventually I updated her on one thing and she was like “you did good”. THE HECK? Then she made me a beanie (she loves to crochet) as a token of support. But after that? NOTHING. We’ve barely texted, our next organised day to see eachother isn’t till THE END OF OCTOBER AND I ASKED FOR OUR NEXT ACTIVITY DAY BACK IN THE MIDDLE OF AUGUST. ITS A TWO MONTH WAIT, R U KIDDING. And now she’s hanging out with the same friend we did our big group activity with along with her partner. She met this other friend before I came along and they’ve known eachother for years. And I’m VERY aware of it. Bht I get so jealous every time they post shit together because a year ago that was me. I just don’t understand where it all went wrong. I have one bad week and it’s like i always need to be happy otherwise I’m no ‘use’ to her. I’m barely in my 20s. She hasn’t even reached out to say she ‘misses me’ like she used to. Reciprocation is non existent.

’ve been so blinded by her, and fueled my fantasy of her that when i take the rose coloured glasses off i CANT Even fathom the true person she actually is. She’s still that person I was in awe of at the start, but picking up on things she says and does makes me raise eyebrows, and frankly it breaks my heart because it hurts so much. It hurts so so much. She played me like I’m a fool and I was so blindly infatuated with her. She was also really touchy felt too, we held hands and hugged all the time. I had never had that with a friend before.

She opened my eyes up to affection I had never had, i wrote her letters on her birthday, gave her gifts, chocolates and food. I had NEVER done that for anyone else that fast in my life. I even purposelfully made myself stay up late for her till 1-2am just so I could message her cos I knew she’d be up at that hour. And I’m so scared that I might be losing her after falling down the rabbit hole. Y’all I was so careful. I WAS SO SO CAREFUL AT THE START. BC I KNEW WHAT I WAS GETTING INTO. And then she just drew me in only to spit me back out. And I feel awful. I feel like a dickhesd for falling in love with a girl that only broke my heart more. I don’t know how I’m supposed to get out of it.

Thanks for reading this, I’d love anyone’s advice and thoughts. I love you x

dear anon that fell in love with someone they can't have,

this was a doozy. when i tell you i went through every emotion-

first, this isn't your fault. you physically cannot control who you fall for. no matter how careful you are. especially considering this person led you on and made you feel like there might've been a chance at something more.

second, you have to set boundaries with this person. maybe that means cutting back on your monthly activities little by little.

i think everything happens for a reason and everything has a purpose in the longer scheme of life. some people are meant to just be in your life for a short time. it seems like this is the case. you shouldn't stall your life because of this person.

i know this is all so much easier said than done, but it's time to move on with your life even if it means leaving her in the past. your heart will heal, but you will never get those years you've spent pinning over a person who could care less about your well-being.

i love you. thank you for sharing with me and trusting me.

calling all my babies - additional advice is welcomed 💖

[nedlittle]

I will never not be unwell about your post about Alyosha that you tagged “when you lose someone you love like that you have to create a way for them to never die” because HE. Also where did the whole idea of Alyosha kills the tsar come from? I read the book over a year ago so there might be some stuff I’m forgetting

i had to go back and find that post bc i was shocked that i was coherent enough about fedya d to articulate a single thought

in the author's preface, dostoevsky says "that while i have just one biography, i have two novels. the main novel is the second one--about the activities of my hero in our time, that is, in our present, current moment." (page 3 in the p&v translation)

the first novel is tbk proper, which takes place 13 years ago, placing it in 1866. our main source for tbk 2: alyosha kills the tsar comes from an article by james l. rice called "dostoevsky's endgame: the projected sequel to the brothers karamazov" which references a letter dostoevsky wrote during the novel's serialization:

"i can only say that aleksei in time becomes the village schoolmaster and, influenced by some sort of special psychological processes at work in his soul, he actually arrives at the idea of assassinating the tsar."

of course, dostoevsky died months after tbk was published in its complete form, at a time when people were trying to assassinate alexander ii, like, every two weeks. so that's our source for tbk: electric boogaloo existing. the other big source is from a guy named aleksei sergeevich suvorin, one of dotoevsky's friends, whose diary was published in 1923. here's him on the subject:

"he [alyosha] would commit a political crime. he would be executed. he would have sought the truth and in those seekings he would, naturally, have become a revolutionary."

we also know that the provisional title for tbk 2: who gave the baby a gun was "the children", referring to the titular boys of book 10 of tbk. according to dostoevsky's widow anna, alyosha "was to endure a complex psychological drama with lise [...] marry [her], then leave her for grushenka"*. there's more about how this sequel would work on a thematic and psychological level in the article and its sister article "foreshadowing the karamazov sequel" (also by rice). this isn't relevant but rice essentially diagnosis alyosha with victorian woman disease by calling him a "textbook case of male hysteria," which i enjoy.

so that's all we know about the hypothetical sequel, and i think about it a lot regarding a biographical reading of the novel because i think it's so interesting to take a character, based on your son who died of a hereditary disease you gave him, who you say is "like an angel, nothing touches [him]," and then plan a sequel where he is not untouchable and undergoes the same disillusionment and trauma as you experienced as a young man, only he dies in the end. and that's not even getting into the other biographical details like dostoevsky's own father dying under mysterious maybe-murder circumstances in 1839! or the fact that he looked at the loathsome father-figure he created for tbk whose hereditary "stain" he passes down to his sons as a black smear over their name and was like yeah i'm going to name him after ME. fyodor what was going on in your head.

i don't know, i sort of want to make a whole other post about this. he created a world in which his son survives and is loved so desperately by everyone he meets, but even still cannot save him, even in fiction. something something sons doomed to become their fathers.

tl, dr:

*this is from the rice article but is specifically referencing nina hoffman's interview with anna in 1898.

[b3anieperson]

THE LETTER - An Epilouge To Fourth Wing - Part 1 - Part 2

Story Summary-

Twenty year old Sloane Mairi, sister to Liam Mairi, and daughter of Colonel Mairi and Isaac Mairi, Awaits her brothers first letter of his second year, before she can leave for the Riders Quadrant and see him again.

I sit in my room that I share with four other, younger girls, along the window seat where I have just received a new book from the market in Alrysben. I should be packing what I can in a rucksack, but I'm reading, because if I don't read what I have now, I never will.

Xaden sent a letter telling me to pack light, no books, whatever knives I still have from my mother, as well as my Tyrrish Stone that my mother gave all the marked children before the execution, because of course Xaden knows I still have it, both Liam and I do, it's the only thing we still have from our mother.

All of my other possessions consist of things Xaden, Liam and my fostered sisters have gotten me for my birthdays over the years, as well as my letter book-  it consists of every letter I've received since I was six- and the few things Lady Burnam has gotten us.

Though Lady Burnam is a temperamental woman- when Eya was here, she had had more than a few screaming matches with her - she is kind to all of the younger girls and boys that live with us.

At least I can see Liam in a few days. I think as Kahla and Bryn run through the room, playing what appears to be pretend dragon riders, Helena sits down next to me, her bobbed red hair bouncing as she slumps, then places a hand on my shoulder.

"Hey, have you finished packing yet?" She's two years younger than me, and the only other I share the room with. I shake my head and close my book.

"I still have a few days," I pause, then look up to the door, where the mail carrier sits, divying up who's mail is whose, "I'm trying to read what I can of this book before I leave."

She scoffs, "Read, read, read, that's all you ever do, Dear Dunne, you won't last in the Quadrant." Her gaze shifts, "If only they'd let you become a scribe."

I shrug my shoulders and breathe through the impending fear that seems to stay in my chests these days.

Fynn opens the door, his hand over his eyes, "Are you guys dressed?" He asks. When Bryn shouts yes, he picks her up from behind the door, "Good!" He spins his little sister around. He'll be leaving with me for the Quadrant, and hopefully, I pray, he will cross the Parapet safely.

I clear my throat and gesture my hand to the open door, and Fynn sets down his sister, his skin is dark, like Bodhi or Xaden, but a tad bit lighter, "Right, sorry, Lady Burnam wants all of us that are leaving to come down to her office." He answers. I nod and dust off my stuffy uniform from home-study as I set down my book.

I glance back to Helena, and nod with a smile, then call out to the girls before I exit, "Don't be too much trouble for Helena while I'm gone! I'll be back you know!" I call out, and the girls giggle.

We walk the long halls in silence, I don't know Fynn well, but I know he fought like hell to make sure he got here with Bryn. The last six years haven't been easy, I know I miss Liam every day, but at least Fynn and Bryn weren't apart.

"Are you ready?" He asks, trying to fill the voided silence.

I let out a self-deprecating laugh, "Me? The five-foot-six, skinny, blonde daughter of Colonel Deriana Mairi, who sucks at doing anything but swinging with a sword, ready?" His pace slows and he worrys with his hands.

"You're good at stuff, like a lot of stuff, and you're great at battle practice, well not Emek great, but you're good!" He tries to comfort. He continues walking, the asks another question, "Are you excited to see Liam?" I nod eagerly.

"It's going to be great, Xaden wrote me a few months ago saying that he bonded a red daggertail named Deigh."

"Xaden still writes?" He asks with a slight laugh.

"Well he writes me for Liam, to make sure that we are both doing okay, and also because we grew up in Aretia together, so we're kind of close." I respond.

"Ah, I can't even remember the last letter I got from him, it was before he left, but after his first check in letter." When we had all been separated, Xaden, Garrick, Liam, and Bodhi had all sent every marked child of the Apostate, a letter to check in, ask how we were settling in, and if we were sleeping good.

We reach the end of the hallway, where Lady Burnam's office sits, filled with the three other boys who will leave with me for the Riders Quadrant.

Lady Burnam turns in the chair that she sits in for all but six hours of the day. "Good Evening dears!" She clasps her hands together, and smiles, "Have you all finished packing?" I am really tired of getting asked this question today.

Everyone else nods in murmered agreements besides me. Lady Burnam turns her hand in a gesture, "Sloane? Is that right? Did you finish packing?" I shake my head, and answer.

"No ma'am, I'm going to pack tonight."

She nods, her green gaze catching mine, "Good, good. Well that's all I really wanted to check in with, well, that, and to wish you all good luck, I'll be praying to Zihnal for all of you."

We all give quick thanks before we are dismissed. Dinner starts in an hour, and it might as well be our goodbye dinner, despite that being in three days, when we board a cart for Basgaith.

When I renter our room, the girls are sitting reading through their history textbook, and Helena is sharpening a Tyrrish dagger.

I fall back onto my bed, and let out an exasperated sigh. Helena looks up from sharpening, and twists her head like an animal; "Are you okay?" I nod, my arms splayed out above my head.

Bryn and Kahla squirm up on either side and hug me tight. "We're gonna miss you Sloane." They whimper into my sides. I reach down and stroke their long, braided hair. Bryn's is a long fishtail, and Kahla has a short two strand.

"I'm going to miss you too." I whisper. One of the servants walks in and smiles, it's Dahlia, and she urges the girls upright.

"Come on you two! It's bath night! I've got bubbles, and-" She rattles a box, "wood incense!" The girls sit up and rush to follow her out of the door.

Helena sits down on the bed, and something slides on my night stand. "You got mail, it's from Garrick Tavis, Imogen Cardulo, Eya and Xaden." She says quietly, "They're all marked urgent." She runs a hand through my long blonde hair, then stands to walk out for a shower.

Yes! They're probably all telling me about what to expect after I cross the Parapet. I sit upright and reach for Xaden's letter, and break the seal.

[chessalein]

Jackie + Nori story concept I had

At one point I had the idea that someday a woman would ring on Mama Welles door. The hobby mailwoman with the "I don't really give a shit but still wanted to do that" attetude asked her if she is Mrs. Welles, who has a son named Jackie.

Jackie who heard his name drop, came to the door with suspicion in his eyes. Mamá answered yes, already slowly reaching for the gun she had stached beside the door, in case someone wants to try something funny.

Turns out the woman has a letter for Mamá.

In this letter someone wrote that she hopes she and Jackie are doing well and that she wants to let them know that they don't have to be afraid that Raúl comes back because she took care of him. Wishing them all the best. Its signed with "Elenore Rose"

Big confusion spreads who she is, how she knows of them and what this all means.

The woman tells them that she works in an Asylum and that one of her patients gave her this letter and told her what the surroundings looked like, that it was a Valentinos home and that she asked to bring this letter here.

They want to visit her to ask more about that and the Lady who's name is Mell tells them that they could try but that she doesn't know if its possible.

Because this patient Elenore Rose, has multible personalities that "borrow" her body, like they all say. Mostly its a Lady named Beth who says she was a Moxes before she got killed. Another one is a Corpo named Francis, who claimes to have gotten sick but doesn't know what happened then. Sometimes a very agressive character would turn up, they never speak, they are only very agressive, so they mostly send her back to sleep with the help of sleep darts.

Beth and Francis told them that thats "the animal guy" and mention sometimes a person named "Amata" as well.

Elenore who the two call "Nori" only comes out very seldom. Maybe 3 times since she was brought there over a year ago by a man who told them that she was schizophrenic and that they couldn't take propper care of her right now and paid them an enormous sum so she was kept in the most isolated part of the Asylum.

They never visited again, and now Beth the Mox is nagging around almost every day if she wasn't trying to flirt with the male stuff. Francis mostly came out when Beth got too annoyed or when information had to be gathered.

When they visit, Beth is hitting on Jackie the whole time. Offering the body she is borring right now as part of a deal to meet Nori. Even telling him that it was never used in that way and that she could be all his.

His answer - of course - was no.

"No audience with the princess if they can't convince the guard." She told him. Pleased by his answer she made another deal. She wanted to visit Lizzie's bar because she had some business there.

She was swearing and saying dirty things all the time, something that didn't fit the look of the woman in front of them.

They made a deal that he would bring her to Lizzie's bar because she had business there, and she went to fetch Nori.

Now Francis showed his face, happy to hear that Nori had visitors. But he knew that she wouldn't be happy if she would meet the guessets dressed like this, so he is her personal fashion guy and pics out some stuff for her which he put on in the bathroom.

After he was finished, he explained who he is and how he dispises Beth for always putting clothes on Nori that she wouldn't aprove of.

Turnes out that the Mox kind of plays first guard for her host and the corpo takes care of the planing and information stuff. All without Noris knowing.

In the middle of their conversation the character would change again. Now it seemed to be more fitting the look.

At first the woman was shy and confused, even slightly scared. But as soon as she looked at the latina, her expression truned first to surprise and then to a warm look.

"Mrs. Welles. You look well. Time really didn't harm your elegance."

She stood up from the chair Francis had placed her on and walked over to her to shake her hand.

"I'm Elenore Rose. I'm happy to see you again, even though you don't know of our first meetings."

"How do you know us?"

"Us? ... NO WAY!" Nori beamed a happy smile up to the big guy. "Jackie?!"

"Yes?"

She looked up and down at him, amazing by how big he is now. Telling him that the last time he met him, he was super small and carried around a plush astronaut all the time.

When the two asked how she knew them, she told them a story about a invention that should bring dead people back and that Raúl was one of the test subjects, that she was sent into his memories and thats how she saw how he treated the two of them and that she felt victim to his anger herself while trying to do her job. So she made sure that he would never come back and thought that the two should know that they are save now.

They wanted to know more, but at some point she got scared and shotted herself off and left at some point. Leaving Beth with them.

A few days later, Jackie kept his promise and brought her to Lizzie's where Beth had to clear some things. At first the person she wanted to meet didn't believe her but after a test they talked a lot. After the deed was done, Beth confinced Jackie to stay a bit and party.

They talked and Beth told him what she knows about the whole "bringing back people from the dead" thing.

It all made Jackie very curous, so he wanted to know all of it. That meant to meet Nori again and to get to know her better.

Thats like... what I had thought of till then.

Her backstory would be the same as in "Bringing back the sun", just that here the people who she failed to bring back never left. Their souls didn't make it into their bodies, but stayed in hers. In the Sarah Donum. At some point she couldn't contain them anymore and started to switch character. That made her useless to Arasakabecause only she knew how to connect to other Sarah Donum and minds, so they stored her away in the Asylum. No one there would believe her and they would pic her up if they would need anything from her again. And like this she would get taken care of without them having to move an inch or so.

Valerie gets involved and they find out that she is actually the daughter of William and Sarah Finch. She was last seen 8 years ago on a inventor gala. She and her father were never seen again shortly after that. Her mothers maiden Name was Rose, so she took that, after her father never saw her as a daughter and she wanted to feel closer to her mother, who at least loved her while taking her last breath.

One big scene would have been:

"Why should I come out here when I can stay inside with Amata. Nothing good came from out here my whole life. Thats why I gladly lend them my body. It was never mine anyway, other people decided what I would do all the time. Claiming it as theirs. "

Showing Jackie that she sees no use in her existence and her body and that she gladly gave it away to beth who seemed to have much more fun with it.

Even though I like the concept... I like "Bringing back the sun" much better ♥ I'm very happy with my story.

Please ignore all the grammar stuff. I'm not native english speaker, I'm super tired and done by this week AND it seems that I have catched the cold from my boyfriend so my brain is mush right now.

[braveclementine]

Chapter 6

Warnings: None. However, future chapters will contain sexual content so readers that are under the age of 18 may have to skip those chapters (However they are very few so those under the age of 18 can still read a majority of this book. However please keep note of the warnings).

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

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𝔖𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔲𝔰𝔞𝔫𝔡ℑ apparated to dad's garden and he turned into a dog immediately. He ran around the garden a couple of times and then followed me through the house and out the front door. Trang was sitting on the front step.

"Hi!" I said brightly, smiling, clutching my broom in my hand.

Trang got up and turned around and my smile dropped. "What's wrong?" I asked immediately.

She wasn't crying, no. She looked, lost, confused, and hurt. She opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again and said, "Can we go inside for- for a moment?"

"Yeah, of course." I said, opening the front door back open. Sirius trotted back inside and I told him he could go out to the garden if he wanted to, but he laid down at our feet as we sat down on the couch.

I watched Trang hesitantly as she pulled two envelopes out of her pocket. "So. . . I told you mum and dad were going on vacation, right?"

"Yes. . ." I said slowly.

"And I said I was going to search their house?"

"Yes."

"Well. . . I found something." She said, clutching the envelopes.

"Are your parents. . . criminals?" I asked hesitantly.

"Only in my mind." She said and laughed bitterly. I wondered what she had found. "These were postmarked five years ago. For me. They never gave them to me." She handed me the envelopes. They were both opened. I flipped over one and it read: Mahoutokoro institute of magical studies. The other read Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry.

"No." I whispered. With trembling fingers, I opened the Hogwarts one and opened up the folded parchment slips.

Dear Ms. Nyguen, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. We are aware that you may have also been accepted to Mahoutokoro Institute of Magical Studies and will need your owl by 31 July to know if you will be coming to Hogwarts or not. Yours Sincerely, Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress

"You're a. . . you're a. . ." I said, trying to find the words I was looking for and Trang burst into tears.

"I was a witch all along and mum and dad never told me!" Trang said. "All the things I did as a kid. . . sometimes I thought it was you. . . and you always reacted as though it was you, you know? The floating table? I thought. . . I thought maybe these letters were a joke but I was so angry when I read them. . . cause I thought maybe they were real. . . and all the vases in mum and dad's room exploded. . . and. . ."

She took off her glasses and wiped her eyes. "I dug further, went into the basement. You know I've never been allowed in the basement. Dad was a wizard. He went to Mahoutokoro Institute of Magical Studies. Mums also a witch. But she went to a school in Russia, I can't pronounce the name."

"You're a pureblood?" I asked in amazement.

"I guess so." Trang said, her eyes and face blotchy but she wasn't crying anymore. "Anyways, looking at the newspapers and things dad has locked in the basement, they believe Voldemort's back. They want to flee to Australia. When I told them before I left I wanted to stay the summers in America they were ecstatic. Now I know why."

I kept rereading the Hogwarts letter as though it really was a joke. "Did you- Did you confront them yet?"

Trang shook her head. "I'm afraid that if I tell them they'll whisk me off to Australia with them."

I bit my bottom lip.

"It's too late, isn't it?" Trang asked, her voice cracking. "It's too late for me to learn magic, isn't it?"

"No." I said fiercely. "You just need a wand, that's all."

"But- I won't know anything." Trang said softly. "And I can't practice, I'll be breaking the underage wizarding law."

I ignored her. "Come on. Sirius, you can either stay, go in the garden, or go back to 12 Grimmauld Place. It's completely up to you. I'm sure you'll stay here. I'm going to take Trang to Diagon Alley. We'll be less than an hour, I promise."

"Elizabeth. . ." Trang pretested weakly and I turned on her.

"Trang, I'm going to make sure you can defend yourself. You're my best friend and I'm going to teach you as much as I can in a short amount of time. Now come on."

I pushed her into the fireplace and she reluctantly took floo powder and disappeared.

Sirius nudged me with his nose. "I'll be careful." I promised, kissing his head. "Be back soon." I stepped into the fireplace and disappeared as well.

Trang was waiting in the Leaky Cauldron, looking at it through new eyes. I led the way to Ollivander's shop.

"This is where I get a wand?" Trang asked, stepping in.

I just nodded. Ollivander was nowhere to be seen but that didn't perturb me. Then, from somewhere in the bookshelves a soft mysterious voices said, "Ah Miss Nyguen. I wondered if you would ever show up."

Trang gave me a look and I shrugged and she took another step forward. "Er-"

Ollivander came out from behind the shelves. His electric blue eyes were wide, his white hair an afro around his head.

"Which arm is your wand arm?"

"Right."

"Ah yes, hold it out please."

I sat down in the chair. It creaked. I looked out the windows in interest, watching witches and wizards I didn't know walk by without a care in the world. None of them- or most of them for that matter- thought Voldemort was back.

"You seem preoccupied, Miss Kane." Ollivander said somewhere far away from the back of the shelves.

"I was just wondering how many people out there believe You-Know-Who was back." I murmured.

"Ah." Ollivander said, coming back with a wand box. "Yes, many of them are quite ignorant, aren't they?"

I gave a start and looked at him as he took the box cover off of the wand. "You believe-"

"Of course I do." Ollivander said impatiently, taking the wand out of the box and handing it to Trang, "9 inches, Vine Wood, Unicorn tail hair, not very flexible. Give it a wave."

Trang waved it and nothing happened but Ollivander smiled. "Perfect, first try. 8 Galleons."

I gave her the money and she paid. Meanwhile, Ollivander said, "When you become as old as I am, you know to trust Dumbledore's word. Besides, I always knew he'd rise again."

Trang put her wand back in the box and and we headed out the door. "So you're having trouble convincing people he's back?"

I nodded. "More difficult than you'd think." I said in disgust. "All because the Minister doesn't want to deal with it."

Trang made a sound of disgust in the back of her throat. "Can we stop in the pet shop real quick? I need more treats for Carter. He doesn't like the Muggle ones."

"Picky owl." I said lightly as we headed into the shop. She found the treats that she wanted and bought them. We went to the bookstore and bought a couple spell books for her and then we headed back home.

Sirius wasn't in the living room and when I looked out the window, I saw he was running circles in the yard, trying to catch a rabbit.

"Sirius." I scolded him. "Leave the poor rabbit alone."

He barked happily, wagging his tail as the rabbit dashed into the bushes. I grinned.

Trang and I stood in the kitchen while we practiced spells. We worked on first and second year stuff. It came easily to her because she was older and had the mental capacity that she wouldn't have had at eleven.

As it got dark though, she debated about whether she even wanted to go home or not.

"It's just. . . I don't know how to face them, knowing that they kept an entire world from me. . ." she said sadly. "The world I should've grown up in considering they were both wizards."

I put a hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to confront them. Just make sure you keep your wand and remember your spells. The Ministry knows this is a magic house so come on in whenever you want and practice. But make sure not to do magic at your house or you can get in trouble. I don't know if your parents have their house under magical law or not." I hugged her. "This is probably the last time I'm going to see you- I'm not coming back tomorrow."

Trang's eyes filled with tears but she nodded determinedly. "I'll see you in three years then."

I hugged her as tightly as was possible and I knew from the pain in my shoulders that she was hugging back just as tightly. Sirius whined softly, a warning that we had to go.

"Be safe, okay?" I whispered, pulling away.

"You too." she said with a nod. We parted ways. My heart was ripping in my chest and I felt like I had just lost another friend.

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𝕴 𝖉𝖎𝖉𝖓'𝖙 𝖈𝖗𝖞 really. I just laid on my bed with my face in my pillow and tried not to cry. Some tears leaked over the edges and I didn't brush them away. I blamed it on the fact that I was just at that time of the month so I was naturally going to be more emotional.

Sirius, at least, was happy. He'd gotten out of the house and run around. I wasn't going to see Trang for three whole years.

She was my best friend- my only friend- I thought at some points in time. With Harry, Ron, and Hermione, I'd foreseen them, so I'd made friends with them. I'd forced a triangle to become a square and though we got along well, and usually were able to do it, the other three always felt a bit closer together than with me.

Of course, both Harry and Hermione had come out and fully said they didn't care that I'd only joined them as friends because I'd foreseen it. To them, we were true friends and I was glad that they felt that way.

But Trang. . . Trang I didn't have to see before we were friends. Hell, I didn't remember anything except dad before Trang. We'd been joined at the hip since I'd been living with dad. Losing her. . . but I wasn't really losing her, was I? Maybe it was the knowledge that three years is a long time. Maybe it was the knowledge that one of us could potentially die. Or maybe it was the shocking knowledge that she was a witch and neither of us had known it.

There was a knock at the door and for a fleeting moment, I hoped it was dad even though I knew it wasn't.

"Come in." I said.

It was Kingsley.

"Oh, hi." I said, getting up off the bed and blushing.

"Sirius said you were upset." Kingsley said in his slow, deep voice.

"I'm. . . I'm just. . ." I hesitated. "My best friend. . . well let's just say there were a lot of surprises today."

"Trang? Right?" Kingsley asked, closing the door behind him and sitting down properly in a chair.

"Yes, you met her at the bookstore." I said, sighing, slumping into a chair nearby. "Well, she goes to America every year and that doesn't bother me, ya know? Cause I'm at Hogwarts. Well, I told her, to keep her safe so Voldemort couldn't use her against me, to stay in America until everything was over. So I may not see her for a long time. And today, she showed me letters she found in her parents house showing that she's actually a pureblood wizard." I laughed bitterly. "Shock for both of us, considering we both thought she was a Muggle. According to other things she found in her parents basement, they believe Voldemort's back. They're making plans to flee to Australia."

"I'm sorry." Kingsley said. I loved his voice. It was simple yet conveyed the feelings you needed.

I shook my head, looking out the window, "It's what's for the best, I know that. . . it's just. . ." I chewed on my bottom lip, looking for the right words, "hard." I finished.

Kingsley leaned forward and put a calm hand on my shoulder. I smiled at him. "So what's with the Order?" I asked with a mischievous smile.

He chuckled. "Nice try."

I grinned as he stood up and was about to leave and then said, "Hey Kingsley? Do you. . . do you see me like a little girl the way Sirius and Dad do?"

Kingsley turned and looked at me thoughtfully and said, "I've always been protective of women. But no, I don't see you as a child. Rather, I believe you are a young woman becoming an adult. But you shouldn't be upset with Sirius and Remus. They really are just trying to protect you."

I nodded, my throat constricting and watched him leave the room, closing the door again, and leaving me in darkness. I should turn on the lights, I thought though I didn't get up to do it.

There was another knock on the door and it opened. I realized I was still sitting where I had been and got up. It was Severus and my heart lightened a bit.

"Hey Sev." I said with a smile.

He grinned. "I thought you might be wallowing in sorrow in here."

I glared at him as he shut the door. He flung his traveling cloak on the chair Kingsley had been occupying and then pulled me in for a kiss.

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𝖂𝖊 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖐𝖊𝖉 𝖔𝖓 cleaning for the next couple of days. We finished the drawing room and moved on to other sections of the house. There was the dining room first. I opened the top drawer of the dresser, took one look in it, screamed, and ran away from it.

Sirius and Mrs. Weasley hurried towards it and the other crowded around it. Ron quickly said he was going to go make a cup of tea and I followed. We both sat in the kitchen and drank tea. I hated spiders. I'd never hated spiders before. But I hated them now.

The spiders had been huge- as big as saucers. They reminded me of the spiders in the Forbbiden forest- urgh.

When Ron and I went back, Sirius was throwing china into the sack. I was a bit amused and mentioned to Sirius that Mundungus could probably get money for the dishes. Sirius shrugged and continued to throw the china in the sack. It made satisfying crackling noises when it broke. The picture frames met the same fate.

Throughout our cleaning, the doorbell kept ringing and we'd sneak out to try and listen to snatches of conversation. I was best at this because I had the house down flat and Mrs. Weasley was more busy about Harry and her own kids than me.

Severus came in multiple times and whenever no one was around, we'd slip into the empty and completed drawing room for a few moments. I had also seen Professor McGonagall who briefly chatted with me for a few moments- though not about Order things- and then went off to make a report to whoever was in the kitchen.

Professors Sprout and Flitwick were also in the order and those were the only teachers. I had seen Professor Sprout at one point but not Flitwick. I hadn't seen her since. I'd barely been able to talk to her either without choking up. She too, seemed grieved about Cedric.

Tonks stayed one day to help clean. We'd found a murderous ghoul in the larger bathroom upstairs. It kept swinging its chains around. George, Ginny, Hermione, and I all got hit by a chain upside the head and somehow ended up in the bathtub, all of on top of each other.

Sirius and Tonks managed to get it and then Sirius ushered us downstairs to the kitchen and gave us ice to put on our foreheads. George had a huge welt on his forehead and I hoped mine didn't look as bad. It shouldn't- George got hit first.

Against my wishes, Severus ended up coming that night and though I tried hiding my face from him, eventually he saw it.

"Stop looking at it" I muttered, putting my hand over the welt.

He pulled my hand away, pining it down to the bed. He brushed it with his thumb and I winced.

"What happened?" He asked.

"There was a ghoul we had to take care of in the bathroom." I muttered. I wanted to roll over onto the left side of my face but he had my arms pinned. "Let's just say it had some wicked chains."

He bent down and kissed me. "Maybe- you should- stop cleaning- the house." he murmured between kisses.

"Yes well." I said, losing my train of thought. "It's not cleaning at this point. Feels like a war we're fighting. The house seems to fight back too."

This didn't turn out to be more true the next day when Dad stayed to help us take care a grandfather clock that had developed a habit of shooting heavy bolts at passerby's. Ginny got hit in the forehead again. Ron got hit in the back and Harry got hit in the arm. They left huge welts wherever they hit. One hit my glasses and on instinct, I shut my eyes.

I stumbled backwards, still not opening my eyes and nearly fell down the stairs before Dad caught my arm. I pulled my glasses off- my eye still closed. I felt something sharp sticking in my cheek. Dad pulled it out and after a moment said I could open my eyes.

Dad repaired my broken glasses and then went to repair the grandfather clock, telling the rest of us to stay out of the room for the time being. When he emerged, he said that the clock was fixed and he had huge welts in the back of his leg and the side of his neck.

Severus came that night as well. Luckily, the only mark was the small cut that the glass from my glasses had made. I told him the story, amused. He wasn't amused at all. "Your eye could've been cut open." he muttered.

"You sound like a mum." I muttered back.

He rolled over on top of me, pressing his lips to my throat. "Take that back." he growled.

"Not- a- mum." I gasped, my heart beating like a butterfly.

There were other dangers of course. Mundungus saved Ron from purple robes that tried strangling him when Ron'd taken them out of the cupboard.

Or in a room that hadn't been opened in years where some sort of magical pests leapt on Fred's pants and started eating them and he kicked them off so he was standing in just his underwear. We let Sirius and Kingsley take care of that room. They'd both come out completely naked and Hermione and Ginny clapped their hands over their eyes. I grinned, looking at the ceiling. Fred and George had roared in laughter.

Tuesday was a full moon and I was glad Mundungus had gotten me the mandrake leaf a few days ago or else I would've had to wait a full month before I could've used one. I was going to try and become an Animagus and the first step was putting the mandrake leaf under my tongue. I'd have to worry about kissing Severus later.

On Wednesday while we were eating- Dad was out- Mrs. Weasley mentioned that she'd laid out Harry's clothes for him. This made everyone stop talking and look at him.

"How am I getting there?" Harry asked Mrs. Weasley.

"Arthur's taking you to work with him." She answered.

"You can wait in my office until it's time for the hearing." Mr. Weasley said.

Harry looked over at where Sirius was sitting but Mrs. Weasley said, "Professor Dumbledore doesn't think it's a good idea for Sirius to go with you, and I must say I-"

"- think he's quite right." Sirius said through clenched teeth.

Harry looked at me. "What about you?"

"I don't see any reason why I couldn't go." I said with a shrug. "Might even be a good idea for me to-"

"No." But this time Sirius was the one who said it. I looked at him. Neither Dad or Sirius had said anything about Severus' report yet.

"Why not?" I asked, not angry yet, but hopeful. Sirius pursed his lips and I frowned. "Alright, since there's no legitimate reason, I'll be going with you Harry."

"No you won't." Sirius said through gritted teeth and stabbed his potato moodily.

"Why not?" I asked for a second time, looking into his eyes. Sirius had was still clenched around the fork.

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat and said, "Sirius, I don't see any reason why she can't go..." but he drifted off as Mrs. Weasley glared at him.

I was extremely annoyed. "Someone ought to give me a good, legitimate reason for not going."

"It's not safe." Sirius said.

"Okay. . . and are you going to tell me why Harry can walk through the Ministry but I can't walk through the Ministry?" I asked and Sirius slammed his fork down on his plate and stormed out of the room. "It's not fair!" I shouted after him angrily.

I threw my fork down and left the room too. I was going to hunt Sirius down and make him tell me.

Sirius was in Buckbeak's room. I slammed the door behind me. "Give me some answers Sirius." I said through gritted teeth.

"It's not safe for you to go."

"Oh! But it would've been perfectly fine for you to go?"

"It's different, Eilís. I would've been disguised, you aren't."

"And why do I need to be disguised?"

Silence.

"That's what I thought." I said in disgust. "You won't give me an answer, even if it's about me. Is my life in danger? Don't you think I should know? Do I have a ten thousand Galleon reward on my head now? You know," I said much softer after some silence, "I should just ask Professor Snape."

And I turned and walked out the door, closing it behind me and headed off down the stairs back to my room.

I slammed the door angrily behind me and saw that Severus was already sitting on my bed. "Answers!" I snapped at him, yanking my hair down out of the ponytail.

"To what?" He asked, looking taken aback.

"I want to know why Sirius thinks it wouldn't be safe for me to go with Harry to his trial." I said, throwing the rubber band on the dresser.

"Probably because of my report the other day." He said, laying back down on the pillows.

"Which was?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"Your father didn't tell you?" He sounded legitimately surprised.

"Obviously not if I'm asking you." I said heatedly, throwing off my clothes and putting on my pajamas.

"The Dark Lord is no longer after Harry." Severus said, standing up and walking over to where I was putting on my shirt. "At least, not his priority right now. He wants you more."

"Okay." I said and he furrowed his brow. "I already knew that, I overheard it when Mrs. Weasley left the door open I was just seeing how long it would take someone to tell me my life was in danger. But still, Harry's just as much of a target. And It's not like I'm going to be wandering by myself, I'll be with Mr. Weasley."

"Well you also forget that Sirius also isn't your dad." Severus said, slipping his hands onto my waist. His long hair tickled my cheek and I reached up and put a hand against his head. I loved his hair so much.

"Maybe dad won't be back by tomorrow!" I said brightly.

Severus chuckled. "Come to bed."

I followed him, turning off the light and climbed in next to him. He wrapped his arms around my waist and I snuggled up next to him.

"I will warn you." he whispered against my lips, "I can't stay the whole night."

"Just wait for me to fall asleep." I whispered back and then pressed my lips to his, "and then you can leave."

I don't know when I fell asleep but I know he didn't leave until I did. I fell into happy dreams and didn't wake up until I had a nightmare. 

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[crmsnmth]

September Sky Chapter Two, Part 3

"Yeah, maybe. I don't really know. I do listen. When I can hear," I said. Once again, it felt uncomfortable and weird.

"I'm serious. You pass by a lot of chances when you never make an effort."

"I know."

"How have you been sleeping?" She skillfully switched the conversation onto another one of my major issues, and that was sleep. Sleep and me hadn't gotten along for probably four years The last year with Emily, and then three after. Nightmares, night terrors, sleep paralysis, and huge fights with insomnia. My body just rejected sleeping good anymore.

"As well as I have been. Nothing's really changed," I said.

"The Ambien didn't help?" She sounded surprised. It was apparent that the normal ways people can use to get sleep didn't really work at all for me.

"It helps me fall asleep, but I'll be up an hour later. And coherent. It's not the zombie walk Ambien side effect."

"Hmm, well, did you want to keep trying with this or move on to the next?" She always talked about the meds I take. Making sure that I was okay with what we try. She didn't really like to push meds unless there was nothing else to be done. Like my Lithium and Seroquel. Those were needed and most likely would be the rest of my life.

"It doesn't really matter. I guess I can try this a little longer."

"Let's try until your next appointment. Two weeks should be more than enough time. If it's still not working, we'll try another one. We aren't at the bottom with that yet. There's still plenty of things that can help. We'll figure it out." It almost seemed she was trying to reassure me. She didn't need to. This never bothered me. I'd been through med changes when I got my first Bi-Polar diagnosis at 17. Almost ten years ago. Four years until they put me on the Lithium and Seroquel. Those have been the only constant meds for six years. Otherwise, it's always a revolving door of pharmacists explaining new meds to me.

"Sounds good. Like I said, it does help me fall asleep, so that's something."

Sarah smiled and nodded at me. She wrote something else on her clipboard before flipping to a new page. "Yes, that's true. How's work been going?"

"It's alright. We lost a cook two weeks ago, but that was his own fault. All of us smoke weed, but only a few use harder. Eric used really hard, and become a major hazard in the kitchen." I said.

"Did you have to get rid of him?"

"No, thank god. I couldn't do that. Even if he was a danger, I'd just figure out safe jobs for him, and talk to him. Try and get him some help. I don't think firing him for an addiction is really all that fair to him. It was tough enough to watch."

"So you were there when this went down?" Sarah gave me an interested look.

"Yea. Me, Tom, Amber and Angela were all there. Tom did the actual firing. I guess we had to be there as the heads. I don't know. It wasn't a great experience." I said.

"I guess that makes sense. How did Eric take it?"

"Not well. But he didn't get angry or sad. He just kind of deflated and acted like it didn't really bother him all that much. It was, I don't know, depressing?"

"It sounds like it. So, our time is almost up already. I have you scheduled in two weeks, same time, same place." She stood up out of her chair. I tried to get a look at the legal pad, out of curiosity about what they it was that she would write, but I couldn't get a good enough luck. Letters, but no words.

I stood up right after her, stretching the stiffness out of my body. Her chairs sucked. They reminded me of those old chairs you'd see in hotel room desks. Extremely stiff and rigid, with something they thought was cushion.