#i was supposed to be infinitely patient and understanding in the face of both abuse and neglect

[novadreii]

Mmm actually I think we do owe love and care to our loved ones! We do owe each other things sometimes! There is a duty of care in our relationships that we should do our very best to uphold. It's the basis for human connection? An informal agreement we have with someone dear to us that we will support and cherish them and not just when it's easy and in the ways that feel effortless to us but also in the ways that they feel most loved.

We owe each other consideration. We owe each other a chance to chime in on important things and we should not make unilateral decisions. We owe each other reassurance sometimes too! Gasp!

I know that we're unlearning our generational trauma collectively but what's the point if we draw such hard boundaries around ourselves that nobody is let in, and nobody is helped, loved or considered when they really need it?

What is the point of being connected to another human being if it's understood between the two of you that if shit hits the fan, they are loyal only to themselves and you can get fucked?

I get it. We need to be self-sufficient. We can't rely on someone to the point of falling apart when they leave the house. But entering into a relationship or close friendship (or nurturing our existing familial relationships that are healthy) is a declaration that we CAN but don't WANT to be 100% self-sufficient anymore. We'd like to outsource a portion of our bandwidth to the other person. And in exchange, we take on some of theirs. It can't be rainbows all the time: again, most of us are traumatized by our parents in some way. We have behaviours that make us unpleasant sometimes! But why does that necessarily mean that we cut each other off when we show symptoms? When we actually need to cash in on some support the most? Where pray tell lies the nuance between "cut off abusive people who have no intention of changing" and "sometimes our loved ones can act ugly on the road to healing, but as long as they commit to bettering themselves I will see them through it"???? Does the latter not exist at all?

The act of caring and being cared for is one of the only fucking things we have left that can sustain our hearts in this bleak world. If you don't want to be burdened with the expectation of reciprocation in your relationships then what is the point of seeking connection? You are missing a fundamental fucking variable.

[lilulo-12fanfiction]

Rain Song- 4

So here is the long awaited chapter 4! I hope you enjoy it. 

Thank you so much for all of your likes, re-blogs and the few comments I’ve gotten. It gives me motivation to keep going! If you would like to be tagged, please let me know!

Requests are always open! Check out my prompt here. I write for Harry Potter, The Avengers, Supernatural & TVD/The Originals.

Series Masterlist

Tag List: @marsbowiemoon @themeanestlittlewitch​ @banana-tree-freddiemercury @boba-king-iroh 

Hope laid in her bed starting out the window as she absentmindedly stroked Crookshank’s orange fur. She had taken Cedric’s advice about not confronting her Uncle earlier in the evening. Yet Hope knew she wouldn’t sleep again without an explanation. Hope hopped out of her bed, slid her slippers on and made her way down the stairs.

Hermione was sitting with Ron and a miserable looking Harry. He had tried to apologize when she got back but Hope would not look at him. She was furious. How could he have thought she would have kept that from him. She knew the feeling that the truth was being hidden. She couldn’t do that to someone else. Even if it meant spilling the truth about her own father.

“Hope?” Hermione sounded optimistic that she was coming to sit with them. She was stomping towards the portrait hole in her sweat pants and a t-shirt. Hermione realize quickly that she was leaving. “Hope it’s after hours.”

“I don’t care Hermione. I need to speak with my uncle.” Hope paused to answer her friend.

“If you’re caught you could get detention.” Hermione tried to reason. Hope rolled her eyes.

“Hermione- there are worse things than getting detention. I don’t care.” Hope snapped. Hermione hadn’t expected that kind of reaction. Before she could say anything else, Hope was gone.

“That’s my fault.” Harry sighed miserably. “I was just so worked up...I shouldn’t have taken it out on her. I shouldn’t have assumed.” Harry felt a mixture of rage at the man that betrayed his parents, guilt for attacking his daughter...one of his best friends. He felt a deep affection for her, mostly, he thought, because she had an idea of what he felt. Harry was just happy that she had Remus and didn’t have to go through childhood like he did. 

“That’s obvious.” Ron muttered, snapping Harry out of his thoughts. “Don’t take it personally Hermione. I’m sure she’ll apologize.”

“No, it’s alright. I shouldn’t have said that.” Hermione sighed. “I was just trying to think of something that would make her stay.  Should I follow her?”

“No, definitely not.” Harry shook his head. “She needs to do whatever it is she’s doing. Drawing more attention to her won’t help. She was lied to as well. I’m assuming she’ll be having a go at her Uncle. ” Hermione let out a hefty sigh and sat back in her plush chair. Harry was right. Hope needed space. Now they just had to wait for her to come back.

Hope’s anger was palpable. Her explosive temper was bubbling to the surface. It had to be a gift from her father. Remus had always told her that her mother had been infinitely patient. She blinked back tears as she made her way down the corridor. She didn’t know what she was going to say, but she couldn’t hold this in.

“Ms. Lupin!” Hope halted and slowly turned when she heard the cold voice.

“Professor Snape.” Her voice was clipped.

“What are you doing in the corridors after hours?”  Hope took a deep breath.

“I need to see my Uncle.” She wrapped her arms around herself. Snape eyed her curiously. Her distress  was clear. Snape saw so much of Evanora Lupin in front of him, but the look in her blazing grey eyes were the eyes of Sirius Black.

“I’ve told you before that your Uncle being on staff doesn’t exempt you from the rules.”

“I understand. If you feel the need to give me detention then I supposed that is your prerogative. I’m sure something in your dungeon needs cleaning. But I’m going to see my Uncle.” Snape felt a mix of anger and respect for the girl in front of him.

“I cannot let you go unattended.” Hope turned as she felt Snape grab her arm. For a split second Hope tried to pull her arm from his grasp but then she was hit with an onslaught of visions so overwhelming she grabbed her chest as she gasped. Snape raised his brows in alarm.

“Let- let go! Let me go!” Hope screamed. The images were overwhelming. There was a ponding in her ears but she heard McGonagall’s alarmed voice and then her Uncle’s.

“Get your hands off my niece.” Snape drew his hand back quickly and Lupin caught Hope as she stumbled.

“Severus- what is going on?!” McGonagall demanded.

“I came upon her in the corridor saying she was going to Lupin. I reminded her that being his niece did not exempt her from the rules. She insisted and when she tried to leave without being accompanied I simply grabbed her arm and well you saw the rest.” Snape was trying to hide his shock. He had never seen anyone react like that before. Lupin was holding Hope and trying to calm her down.

“You have no right to put your hands on a student.” Lupin was angry. He didn’t show anger very often, Snape knew that, but his eyes were blazing. Before either of them could say anything Hope had seemingly pulled herself together and shoved Remus away. “Hope?”

“You lied.” Her voice was horse but it still dripped with coldness, her eyes were hard. The color had darkened, the way it did whenever she was angry.

“Lied about what?” Lupin was running the gamut in his brain. There was nothing he could think of that they had discussed lately that would warrant her ire.

“About him.” Then it hit him. Lupin and Hope both knew what him she was speaking of. “They’re dead because of him and you lied and kept it from me.” Hot tears poured down her cheek. The look on Lupin’s face told her she was right. She had hoped that he would have denied it. Deep in her heart she couldn’t believe it, but her Uncle did.

“I did not want you to shoulder that. It’s not your job to make up for what he did.” It took McGonagall a moment before the realization hit her. “Who told you?” Lupin asked. 

Hope scoffed and then turned to her Head of House. “You should take care, Professor, when you discuss sensitive matters in the Three Broomsticks.” Hope snapped. Never in her life would she have ever expected herself to speak to Minerva McGonagall in that tone, but she was so angry it was bubbling toward the surface. The exchange was interrupted as footsteps approached them.

“Hope, might you join me in my office?” Albus Dumbledore stood a few steps away. She nodded and stepped towards him. “Don’t worry Remus, I will get her back to Gryffindor Tower safely. You two can discuss the matter tomorrow. Hope, make your way to my office, I’ll be there shortly. The password is Jelly Slugs.”  

Hope silently made her way to The Head Master’s office. Her mind was spinning at the images that had popped into her head when Snape had touched her. She was in such a fog she didn’t notice much of anything when she entered his office and there was a lot to notice.  In fact, she didn’t realize The Headmaster had joined her until she felt Dumbledore touch her arm as he went to take a seat.

“Hope- I need to know what you saw when Professor Snape touched you.” Dumbledore watched Hope closely.

“I’m still trying to work it out. I-I don’t understand. I normally don’t have this happen with someone I’m not close with. And quite frankly, with all due respect, someone I dislike so immensely.” Hope avoided the word hate. She saw a glimmer of a smile flicker on Dumbledore’s face. “Professor-“ Hope let out a sigh of frustration. “Why does that happen to me in the first place?”

“I suspect you, like your mother, are a rare legilimens. She too could see the thoughts and memories of others upon touching them. With practice she was able to become quite gifted at legilimency.” Hope let that sink in for a moment. Dumbledore took it as a sign to continue. “Like you, at first, it happened against her will and only with those who she had a bond. I also suspect that the reason it happened with Professor Snape is due to your heightened emotional state.”

“He was a Death Eater.” Hope started picking through the images in her head. “He was close with Voldemort. But he...he switched sides? There are so many memories.” Hope shook her head. She felt nauseated. She could feel Severus Snape’s internal anguish. It was hard to picture him as someone who had those feelings.

“There is much more to it than that.” Dumbledore sighed. “Hope, I must ask you to keep this to yourself. You cannot tell any of your friends, especially Harry.” Hope looked at the headmaster quizzically.

“Lily.” She whispered. Her hand covering her mouth. A young girl with startling green eyes was staring at her from her own mind. The same eyes she had seen before she knew they belonged to Harry. “He- he knew Harry’s mother. He loved her?” Hope’s nose scrunched as shesaw Lily through Snape’s eyes. “How could he love her and be so awful to Harry?” Dumbledore watched as Hope started piecing things together. “Because he hated James. And Harry is the physical embodiment of his father. But that’s no excuse for the way he treats Harry? For the way he treat any student that isn’t in his house?! You’re protecting him! You let him verbally abuse his students! How could you allow it?” Dumbledore sighed and pinched the bridge of his crooked nose.

“Hope, when Voldemort fell, Professor Snape was working as a spy. No one ever found out. I need that secrecy to remain. If he were to behave differently, someone would notice. Any remaining Death Eaters would question his loyalty. There will come a time where Lord Voldemort will return and it is essential that Professor Snape be able to pick up where he left off.”

“I understand that. But there is a big difference between favoring Harry for being Lily’s son and behaving like a decent human being! Did you know that Neville’s boggart is Snape?” Dumbledore held back the need to correct Hope and remind her to call him Professor. She was far too angry, and rightfully so.

“I did not know that.” Dumbledore watched the range of expressions on Hope’s face.

“So I’m supposed to keep my mouth shut to protect him. I think it’s only fair that maybe you have a chat with him on how he treats his students, at least Neville.” Hope huffed. Dumbledore smiled.

“I will talk with Professor Snape about Neville. You know Hope, any one else would extort something for themselves. It’s very admirable you are thinking of your fellow students.” Hope’s face turned red.

“I didn’t mean to come across as blackmail.” Hope’s anger deflated. “I just think that if Neville was given more guidance and patience he would have more confidence. It’s his lack of confidence that holds him back.”

“I didn’t think you meant it as blackmail. I think it’s a fair request.” Dumbledore reassured Hope.  “I’m sure you will have questions as more of his memories become clear to you. You are always welcome to come to me. You have a terribly powerful gift that carries a burden. I watched your mother struggle with it, but once she got the hang of it, she managed beautifully.”

“What do you mean by burden?”

“You see things that are coming, or could be coming. Often times, you must keep them to yourself. Fate is a funny thing.”

“I don’t understand.”  Dumbledore paused for a moment. He needed to decide how to tell her. He wished Remus had been more forthcoming.

“Your mother knew she was going to die. She saw it. She also knew it was necessary so you could be saved. She had your Uncle take you away and stayed behind. She was afraid The Death Eaters would take you. They wouldn’t know for sure if you had the same gifts your mother did, but they no doubt would have tried to hold you until you were old enough to show your powers. That is why your Uncle kept you from the magical community. Voldemort’s supporters are still out there. He was afraid they would come for you.” He watched as Hope silently blinked back tears. “Hope, I know that you are angry with him. You have every right to be. I also know your empathy knows no bounds. Try to understand his fear and his need to protect you. He knew the pain you would feel growing up without your parents. He wanted to spare you the pain of the full truth.”

“My Uncle won’t like it.”

“Well, we are past that point. If you don’t learn to control it, it will be much more difficult for you. He knows, deep down, you will need help that he can’t provide. Hope I ask that you remain patient with him as he slowly unburdened himself to you. He is still your guardian and he will balance the truth and your safety. I know it’s frustrating, but you have to give him time.”

“I know. I’m just so angry right now and confused. I’m angry at Harry for accusing me of lying to him. But I know it’s because I told him I thought there was more to what happened with my father. That him being a Death Eater doesn’t make sense. But I wouldn’t lie to Harry. Not when I already told him so much of my truth. And then to find out like that and not from my uncle, it hurts.” Fawkes had perched on her knee and was nudging her hand with his head so she would pet him. He apparently didn’t like to see her upset.

“Give yourself time to be angry. You have every right to feel what you feel, but don’t stay angry too long so that you miss out on the people you care about.” Hope nodded. “Now, I know it is past curfew, but you’ll find Mr. Diggory waiting for you right outside my office. I have instructed Mr. Filch that you both have my permission to be out of your dormitories. But don’t stay out too late, you look very tired.” Hope felt her heart jump slightly. “But I feel some cheering up is most important.”

“Thank you Professor.” Dumbledore gave her a kind smile.

“We will start meeting after the Christmas Holiday. Oh and Hope- Happy early birthday.” She grinned at quickly made her way out of his office.

As promised, there stood Cedric. His hair slightly tussled and his grey blue eyes shining. He was wearing flannel pajama pants and a hoodie. Like always, his smile took her breath away.

“Hey Lupes.” She felt a sudden wave of emotion and felt tears spring to her eyes. “Hey- hey, it’s okay.” He rushed to her and pulled her to his torso and wrapped her in his arms. Like a reflex, she wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his chest. As she inhaled deeply, the familiar scent of sandalwood drifted into her nose. The rich sweet smell was beginning to remind her  of comfort and safety. After a few moments, Cedric pulled away so he could look at her. He wiped her tears and smiled softly. “C’mon, let’s go. It’s not very often we get permission to roam the castle this late. I know exactly where to go.”

 She was beginning to realize she would follow Cedric just about anywhere. She nodded to give him the okay. He slipper his hand into hers and led her through the castle. Soon Cedric was leading Hope up a set of stone steps. She knew it wasn’t the Owlery. When they reached the top of the stairs, Cedric led her into the circular room. It was the Astronomy Tower. As it was a clear night, Hope looked around at every star that was illuminating the sky.

“This is…wow.” The chill in the night air nipped at Hope’s skin and she felt a shiver run through her body. Cedric pulled his hands from hers. He slipped his hooded Chudley Cannons sweatshirt off and handed it to Hope.

“You’re freezing.”

“What about you.”

“I have a thermal shirt on. I’ll be fine.  I can see the goosebumps on your arm. Why do I have a feeling this late night stroll wasn’t planned. Hope what happened?”

“I…I was laying in bed and I was just so angry. I wanted to speak to my uncle and then I bumped into Snape and it was a whole thing.” Hope rolled the cuffs of Cedric’s sweatshirt. He was staring down studying her face.

“You’re leaving something out.”

“What?”

“Hope- you were with the headmaster after hours. He sent an owl to Professor Sprout for me to meet you.” Hope wouldn’t meet his eyes. She wished she could tell him everything, but she had made a promise to Dumbledore. She felt him hook his finger under her chin and tipped her head up to look him in the eye. “It’s okay if you’re not ready to talk about it. You don’t have to say anything. You can tell me when you’re ready.”

“Cedric…” Hope started, but was stopped by his lips lightly pressing on hers.

“Don’t say anything. I’m here to make you feel better, not worse.” He ran his thumb over her cheek. She felt like the air in her lungs was sucked out and her heart was pounding. “Is it working?” He whispered and when she nodded he kissed her again, only not as softly this time. She was breathless again when he pulled away. “Good.” He smiled down at her again. “C’mon, let’s sit.”

 He sat down on the floor and leaned against the wall. He motioned for Hope to sit in front of him with a grin. She sat down and he pulled her so her back was against hischest. They sat quietly for a while. Hope desperately wanted to tell him everything but she wasn’t sure how he would react. She felt him rub his nose against her neck and she felt a fresh batch of goosebumps erupt all over her skin.

“Thank you, Ced.”

“For what?”

“For not pushing me to talk. There are things that I can’t tell you. I made a promise that I wouldn’t. I want to tell you, but I Just can’t.

“Hope, you don’t have to explain anything I understand. Maybe you could think of something you could tell me that I don’t know.”

“My birthday is tomorrow…well in a couple of hours that is.”

“Winter Solstice baby?”

“Least amount of daylight all year.”

“I’m betting you make the day seem a bit brighter. You make every one of my days brighter.”

“That’s quite a line.”

“It’s the truth.” Hope leaned her head back and rested it on Cedric’s shoulder. She felt him kiss her cheek. “I should get you back to your common room, it’s really late.”

“True- at Midnight I might turn into a pumpkin.”

“Pumpkin? What?” Hope laughed.

“It’s a Muggle fairytale, sorry I forget you wouldn’t understand the reference.” Cedric dropped his forehead on her shoulder and laughed. Hope sat for a few more moments enjoying the heat of Cedric against her. He groaned as she stood up. She put her hand out to help him up.

“Just one quick thing before I take you back.” Before Hope could say anything Cedric was kissing her again by cupping her face. When he pulled away he gave her another boyish grin. “Early birthday kiss.” He put his arm around her shoulders and led her out of the Astronomy Tower. They walked in a comfortable silence as they made their way to Gryffindor Tower.

“Here you go M’lady, safe and sound.” Hope laughed.

“Thanks Ced.“

“For walking you back to your tower? I mean I’m quite certain you could have found it on your own.” She was pretty sure the way he was looking at her was going to make her heart explode.

“For making me feel better. For not trying forcing me to talk.”

“Hope, I’ll never force you to do anything you don’t want to do or can’t do. But can I offer some advice?”

“Always.”

“Don’t stay angry at Harry or your Uncle for too long. I can’t imagine how it would feel to have you angry at me.”

  “Cedric…”

“Hope- you love them, both of them. They made mistakes, and you have every right to be mad. I just feel like it’s going to hurt you more if you stay mad.” Hope sighed.

“You’re right.” Cedric gave her a satisfied look. “Don’t get used to hearing that.” She pointed her finger at him.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Speaking of dreams, only good ones Lupes.” Cedric leaned down and kissed her one last time. “Birthday Breakfast tomorrow?” Hope nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Hope watched as he walked away. Half way down the corridor he turned and gave her one last grin. When he turned back around, she gave Sir Calogen the password and climbed into the portrait hole. She hoped The Fat Lady would be back soon.  As she looked up Harry jumped up from his chair. He, Ron and Hermione were seated near the fire.

“Hope! Where have you been?! It’s almost midnight.” She gave him a scathing look. “Whose sweatshirt is that?”

“None of your business.” Harry grabbed her arm as she tried to stalk back. She yanked her arm away.

“We were worried. I- I was worried.” Hope felt the ice around her heart crack slightly, but she wasn’t ready to relent.

“I’m sorry I made you worry.” And she continued up the steps up to her dorm room and left Harry gaping at the bottom of the stairs.

Hope pulled Cedric’s sweatshirt up and took a deep breath in to smell his cologne. She didn’t ever think she would feel like this about a boy.

“Hope?” Hermione called from the doorway. “Are you okay?” Hope turned to face her.

“Yes…and no. I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you or make you worry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. You were just gone for a really long time. We were afraid that you got caught.”

Hope sighed as she sat down on her bed and patted next to her so Hermione would sit with her. Hermione listened with attention. Hope left out the details about Snape that Dumbledore asked her not to tell to herself. It wasn’t her place to share anyway.

“Wow…that’s a lot.” Hope nodded. “I can’t believe that he had Cedric waiting for you. And The Astronomy tower sounds very romantic. Oh! You’re blushing.”  Hermione grinned. “You’re falling for him.”

“Stop it.” Hermione grinned again.

“You will try and forgive Harry won’t you?”

“I will. I just need some time.”

“What about your Uncle?”

“I just, I knew there were things he wasn’t telling me, but this is huge. I need him to be honest with me.”

“Hope, he loves you so much. He just wants to protect you.”

“I know. But sometimes protecting someone is worse for them than the truth.”

“I know, but Christmas is this week. You don’t want to be fighting.”

“Hermione…I promise that I will make up with my uncle AND Harry before Christmas. I just need some time to stew in it.” Hermione nodded.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me it’s your birthday.” Hope waived her off. “I don’t want anyone making a big deal.”

“Well I suppose it’s good that your Uncle let it slip to Harry.” Hermione grinned as Hope moaned. “So you really need to make up with Harry tomorrow morning.” Hope gave Hermione a scathing look.

“After my breakfast with Cedric. He leaves tomorrow for the Christmas holiday. Now go to sleep. I’m exhausted.”

“Probably all of the kissing you did.” Hermione teased. Hope glared at her one last time before hastily shutting her bed curtains.

Hope swallowed as she walked down the stairs to the common room. She knew the walk to the Great Hall would be awkward. She paused at the bottom step and took a calming breath and made her way into the common room. Ron grinned at her when he saw her.

“Happy Birthday!” He yelled. She rolled her eyes and made her way over to Ron and Hermione.

“Thanks Ron.” She looked around slightly. “Where’s-“

“Harry is running late. He’ll meet us in the Great Hall.” Hope nodded at Ron. 

“C’mon- don’t want to be late for your birthday breakfast with your boyfriend” he teased. Hope gave Hermione a dirty look. Hope followed Ron and Hermione out of the portrait hole and looked towards the steps of the boys dormitory. She had a feeling Harry wasn’t running late but wanted to spare her.

Hope tuned out Ron and Hermione’s bickering about Scabbers and Crookshanks. Hope stopped in her tracks. There stood Cedric leaning against the wall in front of The Great Hall. He had two long stemmed lavender roses in his hand. He was wearing a navy blue v-neck sweater that Hope knew would make his eyes stand out. His smile beamed when he saw her walking towards him.

“We’ll uh, leave you to it.” Ron wiggled his eyebrows and then groaned when Hope elbowed him in his stomach. She heard Cedric’s laugh ring out. Cedric watched as her eyes sparkled as she approached him.

“When did you have time to get flowers? You found out about my birthday not even 10 hours ago.”

“You do know my head of house runs the Herbology department. She also happens to be very fond of you.”

“Which is surprising because I’m dreadful at Herbology. And how did you know lavender roses were my favorite?”

“Your Uncle. I sent him and owl last night. Right after I sent one to my mother. You didn’t give me much time.”

“Your mother?” Cedric grinned and placed his hand on the small of her back and led her into The Great Hall. He had clearly gotten there early to snag two seats at the end of the Gryffindor table. There was a present wrapped and placed at the end of the table between the two seats. There were balloons at the end of the table as well. Hope felt the heat rush to her face as everyone stared at them. Cedric pulled the chair out and helped her into her seat. Her plate was filled with an omelet and toast. She could tell it was filled with sausages, peppers and onions with extra cheese, her favorite.

“Also your Uncle.” Cedric pointed to her plate when he saw her look of surprise.

“Cedric, this is, wow.”

“Happy Birthday Lupes. I wish I had more time.”

“I can’t really think of what else you would need more time for Ced. This is amazing.” He beamed.

“I guess you’ll find out next year, won’t you?”

“Confident I’ll keep you around huh?” Hope could listen to Cedric laugh forever.

“I just wish I wasn’t leaving today for two weeks.”

“You could stay at Hogwarts you know.”

“And miss my family Christmas party? My father would come get me himself. You going to be okay here?” Concern flooded his face.

“Yeah I’ll be fine. My uncle is here. Hermione and Ron are staying too.”

“And Harry?”

“Yes and Harry. His Aunt and Uncle are horrible. He was the main reason the 3 of us decided to stay. Uncle Remus had suggested going to my cousin’s house, but I think I’d rather be here.”

“It’s nice that he has friends like the three of you. Did you talk to him last night when you got back?” Hope sighed.

“No. I just need a little more time. I did promise Hermione that I would forgive him before Christmas. C’mon let’s eat. That way we’ll have a little time before you leave.”

“Open this first.” Cedric handed her the wrapped gift. Hope took it from him and slowly opened it up. It was a leather bound copy of “Grimm’s Complete Fairy Tales”. Hope blinked for a few seconds and looked at Cedric.

“One of my roommates is a Muggle. He explained the pumpkin reference. I just thought that you might like it.” Hope ran her hand over the soft black leather and the gold embossed writing.

“I love it. I love fairy tales.”

“Well then I guess I just got lucky.” Hope felt the breath leave her lungs again when she looked at Cedric. He had that effect on her. He took her hand and squeezed it.

“Thank you, Cedric.”

“You are more than welcome. Maybe we can ask Hermione to bring this stuff up to your room. We can go for a walk and then I can grab my trunk and you can maybe walk me to the carriages?”

“I’d love that.” Cedric jumped up and walked over to Hermione. As Hope looked up, she saw Harry starring at her. He mouthed “Happy Birthday.” and looked away.

Hope’s face was still burning as she walked back into the castle. She and Cedric had strolled the corridors as he told her about the Diggory Christmas party. While he was an only child, he had a rather large extended family. They had ended up at their window and they sat closely together.

“So, I know we’ve only had one date.”

“Well today kind of feels like a second date.” Hope mused.

“I suppose it is.” Cedric ran his nose up her cheek and kissed her temple. Hope was certain her new skin tone was blush. “Be my girlfriend. Give me something for my mother to tell my gossip hungry aunts.”

“Well if it’s to help out your mother. She did help get me a lovely book and balloons for my birthday.”

“I mean we can break up after the Easter holidays.” Hope laughed.

“I’d love to be your girlfriend Ced.”

“Really?”

“I mean I’m solely in it for the gifts…” Cedric interrupted her with a kiss.

“Now I really wish I was staying here for the holiday.”

“I guess this will give you time to miss me. You have to get going Ced. You’ll miss the carriages to the train.”

“I know. Do me a favor?”

“Anything…well almost anything.”

“Make up with your Uncle and Harry. You’ll feel better.”

Cedric was right of course. So she promised she would. Which was how she found herself on her way to her Uncle’s office. She hesitated before she knocked.

“It’s open.” She hears his tired voice ring out. She slowly opened the door. She felt her anger ebb away when she saw how strained he looked. When he saw her he jumped to his feet.  “Hope! I’m so glad to see you. I’m so sorry-“ Hope held her hand up to stop him. She rushed over and wrapped her arms around his torso and hugged him. She felt his body relax as he hugged her back. “Come sit” he finally said. She took and Remus sat next to her. He sighed. “I know that you’re angry. You have every right to be. There is just so much that you don’t know. And I know you want to know everything and I know you think you’re old enough to know it. The Minister was concerned about you and Harry when your father broke out from Azkaban. He wanted the details of his arrest kept from the both of you. He was worried and quite frankly so was I that you or Harry would leave Hogwarts and go look for him.” Hope nodded. “Hope I love you very much. Your mother asked me to keep you safe. I told you before, I can’t lose you too. You’re all I have left.”

“Uncle Remus, I know. I promise you that I won’t go look for him, but you have to promise to tell me more. I need to know.”

“Darling, I promise you someday I will tell you more. Unfortunately, there isn’t much else I can tell you about what happened with your father than what you know. I wasn’t there. All I can tell you is that he grew increasingly paranoid and had pushed me away. Your mother tried to keep us close. But, she was unsuccessful. She may have known more than she let on, but she must have had her reasons for keeping it to herself.”

“Dumbledore called it a terrible gift. And that she had to stay quiet about a lot of things and something about fate.” Remus wiped a stray tear from her cheek.

“Hope, I’m begging you to let this go. Please. Nothing can change what happened. I will share more about your parents with you, when I’m feeling better.”

“Oh Uncle Remus…I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine reliving this is easy for you. I’ve been so selfish. You had to live through all of this and I’m asking you to go through it again.”

“Hope, Darling, you don’t need to apologize.” He waved her off. He studied her face. “So you’ve been spending quite a bit of time with Cedric.” He smiles as she blushed.

“He asked me to be his girlfriend.” Hope wasn’t sure how her Uncle would react. He did tend to be over protective.

“He is a very nice young man and he’s very lucky if you have agreed.” Remus laughed at her expression. “Don’t look so shocked Hope. Anyone that makes you as happy as I have seen you lately has my blessing. Now wait here, I want to get you your birthday present. Though I’m not sure I can beat that breakfast.” He winked at her and laughed as her face grew red again. “Now, I had Arthur help me with this, so I hope it works the way it is supposed to.” He handed Hope the package. Hope smiled at her Uncle’s inept at wrapping a present. She pulled out a Disc Man that seemed to have some odd attachments.

“Uncle Remus…I, I’m confused.” He smiled.

“Well I know how much your music quiets your mind, I also know that yours hasn’t worked since we’ve been at Hogwarts. Arthur is rather talented at enchanting non magical objects- oh!” Hope had flung her arms around her Uncle.

“Thank you so much. I’ve missed my music so much.” Hope cried.

“You’re welcome Darling, Happy Birthday. Now you should get back to your common room. I feel there might be some other surprises waiting for you and I need to rest.” Hope kissed her Uncle on the cheek.

“I’ll come check on you tomorrow. Do you have your potion?”

“Yes, Professor Snape brought it by earlier. You don’t have to worry.” Hope hesitated. “Hope- go, enjoy the rest of your birthday. I will be fine.” Hope beamed at him one final time and rushed out of his office and headed toward the Gryffindor common room.

Harry watched as the fire crackled. He was miserable. He couldn’t stop kicking himself for what had happened the night before. He was quick to anger and Hope was quick to hang on to anger. It was his own fault. He was tuning out Hermione and Ron bickering as they hung up decorations for Hope’s birthday. They had a few presents piled up for her. Fred and George had assisted by getting food and a cake. Harry had no idea where and how they had gotten all of it. Harry knew Hope would be pleased with the chocolate cake. He had given up on watching her on the Maurader’s Map. He had tortured himself enough by watching her and Cedric moving around the map. He assumed Cedric had left already.

“Oh you guys!” Hope cried as she clamored through the portrait hole.

“No! We weren’t done yet!” Hermione protested.

“Well, I’ll go sit over here and you can finish hanging the banner.” Hope grinned. She wandered over and sat near Harry. He could feel her gray eyes studying him, waiting for him to say something. She sighed. “Harry, please look at me.” He slowly turned to look at her. Her heart cracked at the look on his face.

“That was some birthday breakfast.” He commented. “You seem really happy.”

“Harry.” Hope took his hand. His green eyes met her gray ones.

“I’m sorry. I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have even thought you would ever lie to me. And I certainly shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m also sorry for ruining your date. But what I’m mostly sorry for you finding out the truth like that. I found out a similar way.”

“I accept your apology. It’s okay, really. You weren’t thinking straight. I had a similar moment last night.“ Harry grinned as Hope gave him a run down of her hallway flip out.

“I kind of wish I could have seen you yell at Snape.”

“Yeah he didn’t know what to do. I have a feeling it was a first.”

“Well a first that he didn’t tear you down.”

“Well I feel my Uncle may have taken him out. His friendly demeanor tends to go away when I’m involved.”

“Oh good! You’ve made up!” Hermione exclaimed when she came over.

“I did tell you last night that we would be fine. I have a feeling that this won’t be our first spat on the account we both have horrendous tempers.” Harry bumped Hope with his shoulder.

“So…how’s your boyfriend? Pretty fancy breakfast.” Ron teased.

“He’s good. Almost home I bet.” Ron’s eyes widened.

“You didn’t say he wasn’t your boyfriend!” Hope shrugged.  Ron wiggled his eyebrows.

“Shut it.” Hope threw a pillow at Ron. Hermione noticed how quiet Harry had gotten but didn’t comment. Ron made a few more obnoxious comments before Hermione intervened with presents.

“So Fred and George’s gift is the food and the enormous cake. They also told me to make fun of you and Cedric.” Ron handed her his gift that was filled with sweets from Honeydukes. “I wasn’t sure what to get you so I figured replenishing your sugar supply would be appreciated.” Ron was pleased with Hope’s happiness. Hermione handed her a rather heavy package. Hope was not surprised by the Arithmancy book on her lap.

“I figured it would help you catch up from missing the first couple of weeks of class.” Hermione was sheepish.

“Hermione, this is perfect.”

“I still can’t believe you dropped such an easy class to take Arithmancy.” Ron scoffed.

“I could not handle Trewlawney and her hack of a class.”  Ron shook his head. Harry leaned forward and handed Hope a beautifully wrapped package. She looked up and smiled at him. Apparently it was the day for leather bound. Harry had gotten Hope a gorgeous royal blue leather bound sketch book with her initials embossed on the lower right hand corner. He had also included some new charcoal pencils and watercolor pencils.

“Harry, this is beautiful. How did you manage this?”

“Hermione helped. I knew what I wanted to get you, so she found it for me.” Hope hugged him.

“I love it. It’s perfect.”

A while later, Hope was stuffed with great food and a magnificent cake. She was putting her gifts away when she noticed a small present on the end of her bed. Confused, she sat down and slowly opened it. It was an antique looking silver ring shaped like a rose. Underneath was a small note.

Hope- this was your mother’s and I thought you might like to have it. Happy Birthday, I wish I could have been there for all of them.

 Hope felt tears spring to her eyes. Underneath the note was a picture. It was a photo of her being held by one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. Her eyes  were looking back at her in the form of her father, Sirius Black.

The Christmas holiday wasn’t as relaxing as she had hoped. It had started with Crookshanks going after Scabbers and grew worse when McGonagall confiscated The Firebolt for testing. Harry and Ron were furious with Hermione. Hope understood where Hermione was coming from and actually agreed that it should have been looked at. That made Ron and Harry angry with her as well, just not as angry as they were with Hermione.

Hope had kept the gift from her father to herself. At first, it was to process it and then it was to obsess over it. By the time she was ready to talk about it, McGonagall had taken Harry’s Firebolt. There was no way she was going to risk anyone taking that ring or the note and photo her father had sent. She knew, even I’d be was after Harry, he wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. Her Uncle had been recovering from the full moon so she didn’t want to bring it up and worry him. Her only option was Cedric, but she didn’t dare put it in writing. He had sent her a letter and some chocolate on Christmas morning stating he wanted to give her the gift he got her in person. Hope had spent her holiday with Hermione trying to find a way to save Buckbeak and working on a sketch of the Astronomy Tower. Her Uncle had helped her get a really beautiful silver frame to place it in. She was also able to order a really nice cerulean sweater. It would look perfect with his eyes.

She screeched as she felt a pair of arms around her waist and spin her around in a circle. Once her feet hit the ground she spun to see Cedric grinning like a Cheshire Cat. Cedric had managed to get his father to set up him coming back early. He had arrived by Floo. Hope had written to him about how horribly her vacation was going and so he came back early.  Hope had her hand on her chest as her heart pounded. She swatted at him and then laughed.

“Sorry Love, couldn’t help myself.”

“You didn’t have to come back early. I feel bad that I pulled you away from your parents early.”

“Are you kidding? It was my mom’s idea. She’s absolutely smitten with you.” Hope rolled her eyes.

“She doesn’t even know me.”

“She knows you like I know you. She can’t wait to meet you.”

“Well now she’s going to be disappointed when she actually meets me. I’m sure you exaggerated.”

“Well, then so did Arthur Weasley when he told my father how wonderful you are.” Hope groaned. He put his hand on her cheek and kissed her lightly. “I missed you.”

“It’s only been a week and a half.” She joked. “I missed you too. It’s been kind of awful.”

“It sounded so from your letter.”

“And I down played it.”

“What’s the matter?” He studied her face.

“What do you mean?”

“I can tell by your eyes. You have the same look that you did when you told me about your dad.” He watched Hope look around nervously. She grabbed him by the hand and dragged him over to their window. Cedric sat down and watched her pace for a few moments. “Hope, you’re making me dizzy.” She sighed and reached into the front pocket of her hoodie and handed him the ring, the note and the photo. He scrunched his brow at the ring after he examined it for a moment. He looked at the photo and then she watched as his eyes went wide and he looked up at her. She was pacing again. 

“Have you shown this to anyone else?” She shook her head no and continued pacing. On her way back in front of him he grabbed her arm and pulled her to him and sat her on his lap. “I take that as a no.”

“I needed some time to process and then by the time I was ready the whole thing with Harry’s new broom happened. And then I was afraid they would take the ring, and it was my mother’s.” Cedric rested his chin on her shoulder.

“I understand. Not even your Uncle?”

“He would go mental. I can’t. I can’t do that to him. Plus I don’t want to fight with him.”

“I understand.”

“There’s more…”

“Hope you’re killing me.” She reached back into her and pulled out another card. Cedric read it out loud.

“Merry Christmas Sweetheart” Cedric read aloud. “Well if it wasn’t in the same handwriting I would be jealous. Did it come with a gift?”

“A really beautiful cashmere sweater. It’s this bluish-purple. It fits perfectly. I lied and said it was from you by the way.”

“Hope…”

“I know, I know. I don’t know how he was able to buy anything or get his hands on the ring or get it into my dorm. I just..”

“It’s all you have from your father. I understand. You’ve been holding this in for almost two weeks so you’ve had plenty of time to over think and brew.” She leaned her head against his and took all of the items and shoved them back into the front pocket of her hoodie.

“Like a strong cup of coffee.”

“Your favorite.” Hope smiled.

“My favorite. I’m really glad you’re here. I can’t take any more time in the library with Hermione.” He chucked.

“She’s pretty intense.”

“She is. And with how upset she is, it’s even worse. I can’t take the fighting between them. And I refuse to share my opinion. It’s been awful. Kiss me?” He laughed and pressed his lips against hers. They jumped apart when they heard a throat clear. Her Uncle was smiling at the two of them.

“I was hoping you would be together.”

“Hi Uncle Remus. What’s going on?” Hope felt her cheeks blazing and Cedric looked like he was going to throw up.

“Well I heard that Cedric came back a little early. I was hoping the two of you would join me for dinner tomorrow. I figured it might be nice to get together before everyone else comes back from break.”

“That, that would be great, sir.” Cedric stuttered over his words.

“Oh Cedric I don’t think we need to be so formal.” Remus mused. Hope held in a laugh. “Tomorrow at 6pm in my office?”

“That sounds great Uncle Remus.” He nodded.

“Well…carry on.” He gave Hope an amused look before he turned to leave.

Hope sat down on the windowsill and started laughing. Cedric crossed his arms in front of himself. “Sir?!” Hope continued to laugh.

“I was trying to be respectful.”

“I’m pretty sure that Professor would have been just as respectful.” Cedric’s face turned crimson. “I’m just teasing. It’s just, it’s my Uncle. He would be perfectly happy with you calling him Remus. It’s how he is.”

“Yeah…well…” Cedric huffed.

“Don’t be mad…I really needed that laugh. I mean I suppose it’s only fair for the way you scared me when you got here.”

“Okay truce. So…feel like breaking some rules?” Hope raised her eyebrows. 

“Well…no one from Hufflepuff stayed behind for the holidays. I was thinking I could sneak you in so we could exchange gifts and be alone?”

“Why Mr. Diggory I am SHOCKED.” Hope made a mock gasp. “I’ll go get your gift and meet you outside of your common room?”

“Sounds like a plan.” He grinned.

Hope rushed down the steps of her dormitory, Cedric’s gifts in hand. She was happy to see Harry and Ron playing chess.

“Harry!” Hope exclaimed. Both he and Ron jumped.

“Surprised you’re not in the Library with Hermione.” Ron snarked. Hope rolled her eyes.

“Don’t start Ronald. I’m not picking sides in this stupid fight.” Ron scoffed.

“Could have fooled me. You’ve been avoiding us and spending all of your time with Hermione. And it’s not stupid.” He argued. Hope felt the anger in her bubbling beneath the surface.

“So I should what? Leave her by herself all break. You know, I expect this from you Ron. But not from you.” She gave Harry a pointed look. Ron started to protest, but Hope continued her tirade over him. “She stayed here for you, Harry. She could have been on Holiday with her family. And while I don’t agree with how she handled it, she’s not wrong. There could be something wrong with that broom. We watched you almost fall to your death in your last match. The two of you are so blinded by Quidditch and winning you don’t care what you risk. You’re being childish. The pair of you. Though I’m sure you’ll be over it by the time you need her help with lessons.” 

Hope turned on her heel. She had planned to ask Harry to borrow the Marauders Map, but she didn’t want anything from him. She was satisfied with how ashamed Harry looked.

“Wait where are you going?” Ron called. Hope stopped and turned back.

“Cedric came back early when he heard how miserable this break has been. I’m going to spend the evening with him.” And with that, she stalked out of the portrait hole. She wasn’t paying attention and walked right into Cedric. His strong hands gripped her so she didn’t fall.

“Easy Hope.” Cedric slowly removed his hands from her.

“I thought I was meeting you outside of the common room?” She felt out of breath.

"I got worried when you didn't turn up." She gave him a sheepish look.

"My temper got the best of me again." He quirked an eyebrow. "Harry and Ron...Ron made some stupid comment about Hermione and I kind of yelled at both of them. Like I get it, I really do. But we watched Harry almost die...if there's something wrong with that broom-" Cedric cut her off.

"Hope, you're a very good friend." He smiled. He put his arm around her. 

"C'mon...let's sneak you in." Hope looked back towards her Common Room. 

She really had to get a grip on her temper. She and Cedric walked through the corridors and past the Hogwarts Kitchen. For most of the students being gone, there was still wonderful smells coming from the House Elves inside. She knew that Fred and George had a way in there, she needed to ask them how, she wanted to visit the elves and thank them for their kindness before the start of term. Hope was barely paying attention as Cedric tapped on one of the barrels a handful of times. Her attention was grabbed when the barrels opened up to the Hufflepuff Common Room. As much as Hope loved her own Common Room, this one was also beautiful.

The bright yellow and black were a wonderful contrast and the highly polished, honey colored wood shone. True to Professor Sprout, there were colorful plants and flowers all over the common room. There were a handful of Cacti on wooden curved shelves. Plant holders dangled as ferns and ivies brushed as you passed underneath them. Over the Mantelpiece that was decorated with carved badgers was a portrait of Helga Hufflepuff.

"Cedric...this is incredible." Hope was awestruck as she looked around. He seemed pleased at how much she loved the common room.

“Come sit.” He led her over to one of the couches. She looked uneasy. “What’s wrong?”

“Just- what if Professor Sprout comes in here? Students from other houses aren’t supposed to be in common rooms that aren’t there’s!” Hope’s hand flew over her my. “I’ve been spending too much time with Hermione. She just came out of my mouth.” Cedric laughed.

“Relax. Professor Sprout doesn’t come in here unless there is an emergency.” “I think the only time I’ve seen Professor McGonagall in ours was when I was here before term.”

“Okay, open your present.” He handed her a small square box. She pulled the ribbon off and opened the box. Inside was a silver bracelet with stars. “I thought it would remind you of the Astronomy Tower. Why are you laughing?” Hope handed him his gifts. Cedric gave her a quizzical look and opened the drawing of the Astronomy Tower.

“Great minds and all.” Cedric grinned.

“Hope, this is gorgeous. I can’t wait to hang it up.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“I thought you might think it was lame. So I got you this too.” She handed him the sweater. He set the wrapped gift down.

“Hope- this is all I need. This is perfect. I could never think a piece of art you made was lame.” Hope rolled her eyes.

“You’re trying a little too hard.”

“Do you want to come with me while I hang it on my wall?” Hope grabbed his face and kissed him. “I thought we were arguing?” He laughed.

“I’m going to have you watch Ron and Hermione and see what arguing is really is. C’mon, open the other present. I picked it out specifically for you.” She waved at his other gift. He opened the sweater and she held it up to him. It had just the affect on his eyes as she suspected. “Perfect.” He put his arm around her and pulled her into his side.

“You’re very good at pretending to be okay, you know.”

“I am okay.”

“Hope.”

“Okay…I’m freaking out. I just…I just want…” She pulled away and put her face in her hands.

“You just what Lupes?”

“I just want to see him. And talk to him, just once. I have so many questions. And is it so bad that I just want my father to hug me, once, so that I can remember? And that makes me so traitorous. My Uncle has given up his entire life for me. And here I am longing for someone else when he was the best father anyone could ever ask for.”

“Oh Hope…” He wiped the tears from her face. “You are NOT a traitor for wanting to know your father. That doesn’t take anything away from how much you love your Uncle or appreciate him. Hope, he loves Hope. He didn’t sacrifice his life for you. He made room in his life for you. You made his life more full.”

“You couldn’t possibly know that.”

“Yes I could because he told me.”

“Wait…what?”

“Well, after I found out about your birthday I went to see him. I asked him about the pumpkin thing. He told me. And we got talking…and he wanted to know more about me since we were getting closer. And so we spoke for a while after I sent the owl to my mother to send me everything for your birthday. You act like he did this huge favor by taking care of you…but he needed you as much as you needed him. You were all be had left. You saved him as much as he saved you.” Hope started crying harder. “What? What did I say.”

“I’m horrible. I promised him I wouldn’t.”

“Hope…what are you talking about?” Cedric had no idea what she was talking about.

“Well…no ones been around because of the holidays so I figured no one would notice. And I knew he had to be close…the gifts and all…”

“Hope…I need you to say more words that make sense.” Cedric watched as Hope unraveled before his eyes.

“I wrote a letter to my father.”

Sirius was surprised as a black tiny owl bounced around in front of him. The letter attached was addressed to him. He didn’t know who in their right mind would send him an owl. He could wish that Remus would realize that Sirius would never had betrayed James. He needed to get his hands on that rat. He tried to push down the bitterness, but it was too hard. He pulled the letter off and saw his name written in impeccable handwriting. If he didn’t know any better, he would think it was from Evanora. His Nora. He would never get over losing her and God help the Death Eater that snuffed out that bright light. Sirius took a deep breath and opened it.

Dad…Sirius…I don’t know what to call you. All I know, is that for as long as I can remember, I just wanted a Daddy. Uncle Remus has taken amazing care of me. He…he’s been everything, so please don’t worry. As much as I have missed your presence and my mother’s presence, I’ve been so incredibly loved. I want you to know that. I’m like mom. I know she told you I would be. I, am not as successful as she was, I’m hoping Professor Dumbledore will able to help me. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that since you escaped that I’ve seen nothing but darkness. After everything I’ve heard…I just have this feeling in my gut that you’re not what the say. That you didn’t betray us. I have felt your frustration, your anger and your sadness. I know that this is you. Thank you for your gift, it means more to me than anything and I will cherish the  pictures of us always. Dumbledore gave me one of Mom and Remus and then a group shot of the three of us with Lily, James and Harry. Harry and I have become great friends. I guess the only thing I can ask is that you don’t hurt Harry. I’m begging you not to. If I can help you clear your name, just say the word. I know that it’s been over a decade and I don’t remember you, but deep down I know how much you loved me and I love you. I will always love you. Please take care of yourself. I’m worried that you’re on your own. 

All of my love-Hope

Sirius felt tears in his eyes. Some of happiness and some sadness that he had missed out on Hope growing up. It didn’t matter what he had to do, he would prove his innocence so he, Harry and Remus could be their oven version of a family. He held the letter to his chest. All he wanted was to know his daughter and for her, Remus and Harry to know he was innocent. That was all that mattered. He knew he had to find a way to get to Hope.

[rhinkthreeways]

“Forget it.” (Extended Smutty Version)

Congratulations again to @enterthetadpole for winning the 200 follower giveaway! She requested that Laika expand the “Forget it.” smutty ficlet:

Three words: Sultry AF. Broody and sensual and yeah cold shower was needed. Laika needs to stop doing these before my phone has permanent scorch marks. Just give us more because we are thirsty.

Rhett had grown comfortable with his own nudity. And with sharing that nudity with Link. He wouldn’t have believed it possible, even a year ago, but he has now found that he’s more than comfortable with the way that Link’s hungry gaze devours his naked body. His depthless blue eyes roaming over Rhett’s skin as if there were anything there left for him to undress with them.

Rhett knelt at the bedside of Link’s twin bed in the creative house, resting his head against Link’s thigh. He rubbed his unkempt beard over the rough denim of Link’s jeans, sighing happily when Link raised his hand only to bring it down to lovingly pet Rhett’s hair with soft, slow, even strokes.

Rhett was a big man, everybody knew that, but Link’s hand still felt quite large to him. Large, controlling, and safe. Rhett felt at home under those strong hands. And in love with what they were capable of.

They had been sitting this way for about a half hour. They were quite capable of staying like that comfortably for over a full hour. Rhett savored the time that he was able to spend at Link’s feet, feeling secure in his nakedness, allowing himself to be vulnerable with Link. He didn’t let himself exist in this way in front of anyone else. And Link… Well, Rhett imagined that there must be something about the way that he gave himself over to Link in this way that gave him a sense of control that Link did not always feel in his day-to-day life. Where things never played out to his exact specifications; and he found himself fighting an exhausting internal battle over whether he should annoy people with his desire to micromanage toward perfection, or to give the people in his life some peace and let his compulsion to reform and optimize every last detail of every blessed thing eat him alive. A life where anxiety pried at the edges of every interaction. Was the intent good enough? Was the outcome good enough? Was he good enough?

But Link didn’t have to worry when they were like this. Like this, the world was however Link wanted it to be. Down to the last detail. And it was Rhett’s absolute pleasure to make it that way for him.

Rhett began to subtly squirm in his keeling posture.

Link instinctively tightened his hold on Rhett’s long, wavy hair. He tilted his head back to meet ice blue eyes. Link had always been able to read Rhett better than Rhett knew himself.

“What do you need?” Link lowered shaky, yet confident, fingers to stroke the skin beneath Rhett’s bearded neck. As often as they played at this type of power exchange, Link always kept his voice low. The unstated fact that he didn’t have to raise his voice to demonstrate his hold over Rhett was enough to make Rhett hard and aching in his lap.

Rhett cleared his throat. He trusted Link. Implicitly. But he was still working on asking for what he wanted. It didn’t come easy to him. It would have been so much easier if Link would just give Rhett what he wanted, without making him admit that he had had needs in the first place. Having to confess aloud that he was not this magically perfect and whole creature, wanting nothing from nobody... It left him feeling infinitely more laid bare than his nakedness ever could.

He supposed that was the point.

Rhett nodded in response to Link’s question. He felt a distinct thrill at having the full intensity of Link’s attention focused squarely on him. It made him giddy with desire. He knew that Link would be able to see the light sheen of sweat budding on the surface of his face; and how full, flushed, and leaking his cock had become. But could he see through to how close Rhett was to humping his clothed leg, and begging shamelessly to be spanked?

“Rhett?”

“I…”

Link tilted his head curiously, waiting patiently for Rhett to find his words.

“Nevermind.”

“Oh,” Link responded evenly. “I absolutely mind.”

“Just… Forget it.”

“Hm. You really think that I’m gonna forget the sight of you naked on your knees, fumbling for how to tell me what you would like for me to do to you?”

Rhett decided that it might be easier to just show Link what he wanted. He crawled away from Link’s feet, moving to prop himself up on the edge of the bed, leaning down against his elbows and allowing his spine to lengthen and decompress. He lifted his tailbone and boldly wiggled his exposed cheeks. He buried his blushing face into the sheets, and awaited Link’s reaction to his wordless, albeit vague, offer.

Rhett felt the bed shift beneath his upper body as Link rose to his feet, leaving Rhett softly whimpering before he felt a reassuringly gentle touch on his freckled shoulder.

“Goodness, Rhett. Quite the gift you’re presenting me with. What am I s’posed to do with it?”

Rhett growled into the mattress as he silently weighed his options. He knew how this worked. While Link had the final option to say yes or no, understanding that he did have that ultimate power tended to make Link very generous with what he would ‘allow’. In other words, Rhett had found that he could pretty much ask Link to do anything and Link would do it. That being said, there was still the mental hurdle of asking.

Rhett took a deep, steadying breath before actively shaping his lips in the form of a question.

“Would you spank me? Please.”

Rhett couldn’t see Link’s face in this posture, but he would have bet anything that Link would be smiling from ear to ear.

“Thank you, Rhett,” Link said in a tone that managed to be rough and smooth at the same time. “The fact that you can share what you want with me makes me… very happy. Almost as happy as punishing this beautiful, perfect skin is gonna.”

Rhett’s breathing immediately began to stagger as he felt Link’s hands cup his ass and begin to caress the flesh. Kneeling the muscle, and subtly spreading him; making gentle sounds of adoration as he did.

Rhett wiggled happily, and pushed his hips back toward Link. Desperate for him to proceed.

“Yesss, please.” He practically begged as a fine tremor of anticipation worked itself through his body. The traveling chill left raises hairs in its wake. Rhett curled his toes, pressing them into the floor as Link hovered over him.

“You gonna stay still for me?”

Rhett nodded once. The quick gesture made his long hair bounce, and he shivered for a fraction of a second, his body was electric with expectation of the heat that had been promised.

Link’s hands were warm against Rhett’s skin, as he resumed his reverent stroking of Rhett’s supple skin, teasing it with light touches.

“This isn’t exactly a punishment, y'know. But I would love to make you feel it for days afterward...”

“Yes,” Rhett quickly clarified, he hoped that Link would hurry up and touch him in the way that Rhett yearned for him. “You know I’ll tell ya if it’s too much, just—”

Link chuckled quietly, and somehow dangerously, at Rhett’s impatience. “Careful, Rhett. You wanna start trying to order me around, and this can become a punishment real quick. And not in the way you’re likely hoping. In other words, I won’t whoop you at all.”

Rhett cringed. Link didn’t make idle threats. He did not like Rhett testing his dominance within this setting. He would proverbially turn this car around and go home rather than suffer the effort of brat-taming.

Rhett could feel his cock leaking as his hips began to shift toward Link again. His cock a friction that it would not find. He bit his lip and summoned every ounce of self-control to stay patient as he waited for the sharp stinging kiss of Link’s hand on his skin.

Link did not keep him waiting.

He brought his hand down with a sharp smack, and Rhett couldn’t help yelling at the hot pain on his backside, while pressing backward for another blow.

Link indulged him with a flurry of slaps.

The sound of Link’s strikes rang around the sparsely decorated room, combined with Rhett's grunts and moans. Rhett shivered at the contrast of the heat on his ass with the cool air of the room, a bloom of pain tingled across his skin.

He felt feverish, needy, ready to be fucked; but all he could do was squirm and futilely thrust his hips against the frictionless air before him. His weighty cock bobbing sadly.

“You can touch yourself,” Link mercifully informed him.

Rhett hadn’t consciously realized that he had been waiting for Link’s permission. The thought of acting without Link’s blessing hadn’t even entered his mind as a possibility. But now that the wish had been planted and granted in the same breath, Rhett silently thanked god as he seized the opportunity - and his dick in hand.

Link delivered a particularly harsh wallop that sent Rhett lurching forward into the mattress. The delicate contact of his sensitive skin against the rough cotton sheets was enough to send Rhett over the edge. Or at least blessedly close. He rubbed his neglected and and desperate cock against the side of the mattress, allowing the friction to coax his orgasm from him. His climax was accompanied by an embarrassingly high pitched mewl of a whine before his body went limp.

He felt an odd combination of being both refreshed and abandoned. Like a man consumed by heat, elated to find himself flung overboard into the cool and revitalizing sea; only to realize that he was lost, stranded and alone.

His life line, his buoy, came to him in the form of Link’s hands. They soothed his abused skin, skin that would be warm to the touch and bright red. The touch anchored him and kept Rhett from drifting off.

Link’s whisper almost came out as a growl. But there was a glimmer of humor lining his words that made Rhett smile, even as he was being made aware that their game was ending for the night.

“You fuck up my sheets, McLaughlin?”

Rhett’s shoulders shook with laughter made silent as it was swallowed up by the bedding that he was still burying his upper body into. “Uh, yeah? Seems so.”

He pushed himself up off the bed, turning to look at Link for the first time in what felt like forever. His eyes looked electric and alive. He never looked so beautiful as when he was satisfied. And he just didn’t look satisfied nearly as often as he should, by Rhett’s estimation.

“Good boy.” Link’s eyes sparkled. “Let’s get you, and my freakin’ sheets, all cleaned up.”

Rhett let Link help him to his feet. After his orgasm had subsided, he found himself feeling a little more aware of his nakedness. Especially in contrast with Link’s clothed state. It didn’t feel quite as sexy as it had even moments ago.

Brains could be fucked up things.

Link acted, yet again, like Rhett’s own personal mind reader as he handed Rhett a robe. Rhett cloaked his insecurities, his vulnerabilities, in fluffy soft charcoal colored cotton. It fit his body perfectly, but it smelled like Link. Rhett fleetingly wondered how Link had accomplished that: simply washing it with his own clothes? A more elaborate scheme involving him sleeping in it? All Rhett knew was that it was very comforting, no matter how the feat had been managed.

Link guided him to the bathroom, and began to draw him a bath. There was an ice bucket with a few offerings sticking out over the rim. Rhett could make out a bottle of champagne, and a couple of cans of LaCroix. Link had dimmed the lights, and lit a few candles to set the ambiance.

It seemed like a little much to Rhett. And now that they were no longer ‘playing’, he was tempted to make a joke about it. But he immediately second guessed that impulse. Why did he feel the need to say something silly to break the spell that Link had clearly gone to so much effort to cast for him?

Rhett easily appreciated the gesture, perhaps he just wasn’t so sure that he deserved it. However, he decided to keep his mouth shut, and give Link the opportunity to show him otherwise.

Link added bubbles to the hot water and allowed the bath to fill. He stood behind Rhett and placed his hands over Rhett’s covered shoulders, gripping the cottony seams.

“May I?”

Link slid the robe slowly down Rhett’s shoulders, and Rhett was certain that at his height, he had no right to be made to feel so delicate and cherished.

Rhett offered a loose affirmative somewhere between a shrug and a nod. It seemed that the ask was low-risk enough that Link accepted that as a Yes, without making him consent more clearly that it was okay for Link to literally disrobe him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Doesn’t sting much,” Rhett answered honestly.

“I got aloe here, some types of lotion? Ice might feel good..”

“Ha, well. I appreciate that and all. But it’s not like it was a cane, or... a flogger or anything.”

Link paused, noticeably. “Do you wish it was more like that?”

Rhett had to think about that.

“You can get back to me on that,” Link said with a wink and sly smile, before easing Rhett into the bath.

Rhett sighed at how good the heat felt on his skin. It radiated to soothe his muscles, and relax his mind.

“Good?”

Rhett nodded.

“Good.”

Link cupped a handful of bath water, and allowed it to slip slowly through his hand to trickle onto Rhett’s skin. His blue eyes watched in awe as the water landed, beaded, and slid down Rhett’s body.

Rhett longed for Link to be as slick as the water droplets, sliding down his body… He could hardly believe that he was already getting all worked up again...

“I’m going to rinse your hair.” Link was telling, not asking. But Rhett understood that he still would want an answer.

Upon Rhett’s subtle nod, Link palmed one open hand over the top of Rhett’s head, and slowly submerged him completely beneath the water. When Rhett resurfaced, it was almost in slow motion. Water danced and dropped down his beard, catching in places and sparkling in the candlelight like stars peeking out to twinkle in the early evening sunset.

It seemed Link could not resist bringing his fingers to Rhett’s wet lips, and sliding a couple digits past them. He sensually fingered Rhett’s mouth, and Rhett happily lapped and sucked at the welcome intrusion. Rhett thought he felt Link shudder as he somewhat reluctantly withdrew.

Link took a washcloth and brought it up to rinse and massage his upper back and shoulders, places that the water wouldn’t reach once Rhett was sitting fully upright.

Rhett closed his eyes to focus on touch alone.

Link eventually abandoned the cloth, and moved to massage him with the wetted heels of his palms and his fingertips.

Rhett sighed, and even moaned a few times he felt so loose and at ease. He leaned forward to allow Link to work the muscles in his lower back and hips.

Link then repositioned himself toward Rhett’s front, leaning over the edge of the tub to touch Rhett’s knees - which were poking out well above the waterline, compressed as Rhett was in the tub. Link’s hand worked down from the cap of Rhett’s bent knee, down his thigh to sink beneath the water and rest to wrap loosely around his cock.

Rhett whimpered gently despite himself, once again at Link’s mercy.

“You hard again, Rhett?”

A silly question really, coming from a man who was now stroking his erection.

“Uh. Yeah, looks like it.”

“Then maybe you could do something for me now?”

Anything, Rhett thought.

“Okay?” Rhett said.

“Wait for me on the bed, honey. And I’ll be out when I’m ready.”

Link helped to lift Rhett out of the tub, making sure that he was adequately dried off and not at risk for slipping on his way into the bedroom. Rhett flinched when the soft cottony towel brushed over his oversensitized cock, as Link closed the robe around Rhett’s front.

Rhett tried not to feel awkward as he walked on wobbly knees with his erection bouncing beneath his modest covering. It was helpful to know that Link wasn’t watching. He was behind the closed door, ‘getting ready’ for whatever he had in mind next.

Rhett walked over to the bed, and let his robe fall to the floor. He crawled up into the center of the California king bed and lay down onto his belly. His erection pressed into the soft cushiony fabric of the comforter. It felt nice to find a bit of relief in the pillowy contact. He folded his arms and rested his head face-first into them, unable to resist subtly rutting his hips into the mattress. Barely perceptible, just enough friction to keep him from aching as the minutes passed.

In addition to his own nudity, patience was something else that Link had helped him to grow comfortable with.

Normally, waiting drove Rhett crazy. He was always uneasy. Whether he was in a waiting room for an appointment, navigating an airport terminal for a flight, or even between shooting episodes of GMM. He would always grow antsy trying to figure out exactly what he should be doing with himself in order to optimize the outcome of whatever came next.

But it wasn’t like that when he was with Link.

Rhett knew that when he was with Link, he didn’t need to worry about what happened next. Link was driving, and Rhett didn’t have to think about a thing. He was safe to let his mind go completely blank, and drift away to comfortable and secure places that he never seemed to be able to find under any other circumstances.

Rhett had no idea how much time had passed before he heard the sound of a door opening, and imagined that Link must be walking through it to join him on the bed. This suspicion all but confirmed once he felt the mattress give slightly under the new additional weight of Link sitting down next to him.

Wordlessly, Link encouraged him to turn over onto his back, and Rhett’s jaw fell open as Link’s hand gently massaged his cock.

Rhett moaned at the smooth and controlled movements. The sensation was near breathtaking as Link gradually tightened his grip, making Rhett clutch at the bedding and his eyes rolled up into his head.

“You feel good in my hand, Rhett. But that’s not where I wanna be feelin’ you.”

Rhett nodded. He had hoped that this was what Link had in mind, and he was starting to get restless - wanting Link on his dick as soon as possible.

“Tell me that you want me.”

“Always want you,” Rhett said, honestly.

“That’s sweet, honey. But I need you to tell me how you want me. Not in general. Right now.”

Rhett swallowed the thick lump of need in his throat. “Want you to hold me down, and ride my cock.”

Rhett could’ve sworn he saw Link’s breath hitched; but aside from that small tell, Link maintained his cool exterior.

“That sounds nice, Rhett. But holding you down is gonna be tough, you’re such a big man, aren’t ya?”

Rhett blushed and felt his cock grow impossibly more hard.

“But I’m gonna do my best,” Link said, a quick wink accompanying his grin as he positioned his palms over Rhett’s large shoulders, and propped himself up.

One of Link’s legs glided across Rhett’s broad body to straddle him, and it felt like satin brushing over his midsection.

“You shaved,” Rhett commented.

Link’s eyes lit up at Rhett’s attention. “You noticed.”

“Feels nice on my skin.”

“I did some other stuff that might feel good on ya, too.”

To accentuate his meaning, he reached down to guide Rhett’s cock to his entrance. Rhett watched as Link’s face went slack and his eyes fluttered. Plump lips slightly parted as he slowly sank down onto Rhett’s engorged cock.

Link whimpered as he took his time adjusting to the not unfamiliar feel. He sighed when he felt he’d taken it all.

“God you’re thick, honey. Feel the way you stretch me and open me up for you. Unreal.”

“Feels pretty real to me,” Rhett muttered as he nodded, and brought his hand to Link’s hips. “You want me to...?”

“No. I don’t want you to do a thing. Your hands are fine there. But I wanna fuck myself on your big dick, and I don’t want you to do a damn thing ‘cept tell me how good I look as I do. Until I’m done. When I’m done, and no sooner’n that, I want you to shoot me full of come.”

Rhett had to grit his teeth and use every mental tool in his arsenal to keep from coming right then.

Fuck, this man was sex incarnate.

Rhett held tightly to Link’s hips as he began to move. He was already so soft and slippery from the time he’d taken before coming into the bedroom, and Rhett was grateful. There was nothing like the feel of Link’s tight heat squeezing and massaging his cock.

Link started out slowly, like he was getting used to the feel; but Rhett reckoned he was just enjoying himself. He elongated his truck as he stretched and writhed on top of Rhett. His body so long and lean, now beginning to shimmer with a thin sheen of sweat. His cock was hard, his nipples erect. He looked like he was carved from stone, and Rhett didn’t think he’d ever get over how gorgeous he was like this.

“Fuck, Link… You look incredible. You feel even better.”

Rhett didn’t feel that he had found exactly the right things to say, but he knew Link would want him to say something.

Link picked up his pace a little at Rhett’s praise. He began to twist a bit as he rode, making sure he hit just right. Every once in a while causing himself to tremble. He shifted his weight further back into his hips and lifted his hands from Rhett’s shoulders and onto his own body.

One hand wrapped around his cock, not stroking. Merely holding and squeezing. His other hand ran up over the front of the body, from the soft trail of dark hair up to his navel, up his stomach and over his chest. He fingered at his nipples, teasing and pinching himself to his own delight. Rhett could feel Link’s body responding to his own touches as he clenched and quivered around Rhett’s cock.

For Rhett’s part, he tried to keep his hips as still as an inanimate toy. But he hoped that Link wouldn’t object to his hands roaming a bit. He could not resist gliding his fingertips over the silky smooth skin of Link’s toned legs. Feeling the flex of the muscles in his thighs as he fucked himself on Rhett’s cock.

“God, you’re sexy,” Rhett told him. “You look so pretty. I wanna see you come. Wanna watch your pretty body fall apart. Feel you shiver and shake on top of me. Wanna fill this tight little ass with my come. You’re so fucking hot, I don’t know how long I can last with you looking this good, Link. Are you close?”

“Such a good boy, Rhett. Tellin’ me all the nice things I wanna hear about m’self.” Link began to move faster. With intent. He shimmied his hips and began to pump his cock in his fist. “I’ll come for you, honey. I’ll make a big ol’ mess for ya… all over your body. Nnnngh, you’re so good to me, letting me use you like this…”

Rhett’s dick ached for release, his thighs felt numb. All sensation pooled and isolated his groin, pressure building as he watched Link contort. Link threw back his head as a satisfied groan - that was music to Rhett’s ears - ripped out of his chest as Rhett felt his stomach sprinkled with Link’s warm come.

Rhett's next words came out as a desperate plea, “Can I come?!”

“Fill me, daddy!” Link moaned.

Link squeezed himself around Rhett’s girth and Rhett gratefully emptied his load inside of him, going completely lightheaded and giddy. Sighing and giggling in his post-orgasmic high.

Link gingerly lifted himself off of Rhett and collapsed into the mattress next to him. Eyes shut, and lips naturally curled into a soft smile.

“What do you wanna do now?” Rhett whispered into Link’s sweaty mess of hair.

“Whatever we want.”

Rhett smiled and kissed the top of his head. “I do love how we keep uncovering additional layers of that.”

“Hm?”

“‘Whatever we want.’ We found a way to express ourselves creatively by doing whatever we want. Made a career and built a business around doing whatever we want. Decided to finally love by doing whatever we want. Now we’ve even turned it into some kinda… therapy or something. It’s just… unreal.”

“Feels pretty real to me,” Link said with a dreamy smile.

Rhett’s stomach growled.

“I’m gonna rinse off,” Link announced. “Why don’t you order us some food to calm that roaring stomach of yours?”

“Sure. What should we get?”

“It’s your turn to choose,” Link said, winking as he returned stark naked to the bathroom. “I’m done callin’ the shots for tonight.

[sunshineandfangs]

Klarosummer - Waterfall || Taw'um Alruwh

@klarosummerbingo​

Warnings: some violence and mentions of Damon’s abuse of Caroline. Nothing graphic.

Caroline fluffed her curls, getting them to sit just right as she stared into the water’s reflection. Some would consider it impractical to trek all the way out to the Falls to fix her hair, but...

The young blonde bit her lip. But there was something about what she saw when she looked into the water. She saw herself, of course - and maybe it was just some odd light refraction illusion - but she always thought what she saw appeared a little more confident. As if the version of her in the water was just a bit stronger and wiser.

Whatever, so it was a little silly, but it wasn’t like she was hurting anybody. It was just the town legends getting to her, that you could see your true self in the Falls.

The chime of her cellphone pulled her out of her thoughts. 7:25 its clock announced cheerfully, and she knew she should get going. Caroline gave her hair one last pat and winked at her reflection. 

“Wish me luck with the other brother, kay?”

She whirled around, heading back toward school, a slight bounce in her step.

Caroline Salvatore had a nice ring to it, didn’t it?

---

Her chest screamed in agony, and she couldn’t process if it felt like it was burning or freezing. If it was being crushed or split open.

Her breaths were ragged and wet, the taste of copper on her tongue. Was she dying?

I don’t want to die!

She whimpered, the words only sounding in her head, her lips twitching uselessly.

The roar of the falls was in her ears and still the formation of the rocks funneled his voice to her.

How could she have ever thought she wanted that-that monster.

He was laughing at her. As if her death was amusing. Crowing about how she took care of his cleanup for him. Why it wouldn’t even be an animal attack. Just another sad teen suicide.

Her tears were burning against her face that was rapidly going numb and cold.

I don’t want to die...

---

Caroline had lived a very long time. Centuries upon centuries. Long past anyone she had come to care for, human or supernatural. They all left her in the end, either taken from her while she was elsewhere, by foolish enemies that would pay for their crime thrice over, or by their own will, wishing to take their final rest.

She didn’t begrudge them that, though it made her existence rather lonely. Loves had come and gone. Friends and partners and companions. So, selfishly she took the most comfort in herself. Catching glimpses of the other lives she could have led.

Never though, had one cried out so strongly that she could hear them. 

The voice was young, so young, and dying. Dying while having barely lived at all.

Caroline frowned, unthinkingly reaching out to the dying girl, and to her surprise, she fell through the water.

---

“Hello, Caroline.”

She blinked rapidly, unsure how she had gone from dying to...whatever this was. There was nothing but blackness and one other figure. And she forgave herself for her no doubt idiotic expression considering said other figure was herself!

The other her smiled, looking a bit amused. And Caroline bristled at the apparent condescension. She opened her mouth, about to snap something rude, but they read her irritation and their expression became a bit apologetic before smoothing into solemnity.

They spoke hurriedly before she could.

“I wish I could better explain things to you, Caroline, but you don’t have much time. Your body is still dying and once it does you’ll lose this opportunity to choose.”

“Choose? Choose, what?” Caroline’s brow furrowed, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. “Is this like Harry Potter?”

They looked momentarily confused before recognition sparked. “I suppose that is somewhat accurate, yes. Unfortunately you cannot return. You are human with no magic of your own, I am sorry to say that you’ll just pass out again and die. Truly, this time.”

Caroline frowned, the hope she hadn’t even realized was blossoming crushed in her chest. She crossed her arms, glaring at them. “Then, what? You’ll go?” She meant it sarcastically, but at the slight shift in the other her’s face, she shrieked. “What, is this body snatchers?!”

“No, our bodies will swap places. Mine is not human and will survive the process, while yours will be destroyed.” She spoke quicker, cutting off Caroline’s indignant questions about what the point would be then. “Your soul however is strong enough. It will be able to pass through.”

She was still confused and frustrated. “But you just said that your body will be going to where I am.”

“There are infinite versions of you Caroline and infinite worlds for them to inhabit, as is the case for everyone. Your soul will find its best match.”

Appalled, Caroline retorted, “I’m not going to steal someone’s life!”

The other her stepped closer, expression soft and a bit proud. “It won’t be theft. Two souls can’t occupy one body, wherever you end up, that version of you will have already passed on. Now, I understand this must be a lot for you to process and it’s a momentous decision, but you’re almost out of time.”

As if her words were a signal, the blackness surrounding them seemed to crack and shudder.

Panicking, Caroline began to ramble, words tripping over themselves. “Okay, okay, so like second chances. You go to me. I go to like some coma patient version of me or something. And no one gets hurt? They’re already dead. I’m basically almost dead. And-and you’re whatever you are?”

“Yes,” they nodded.

Caroline ran shaking hands through her hair and took a deep breath.

I don’t want to die.

---

The ancient woman kept her eyes closed through the journey, though she felt her arrival. Water and rock and blood suddenly assaulted her senses where there had been unnerving nothingness before.

With the last connection she had with that odd nexus of worlds she sensed that the other her had also arrived safely. She even got the impression that good things awaited her.

Good luck.

Even as part of her was wishing the other version of her well, the rest of her was processing the events that had occurred in this world. Perhaps, it was a bit duplicitous of her to not have warned the young girl that she would get a semblance of her memories, but she didn’t want to be clueless. And there had been no time to offer the necessary reassurances. 

Standing up, Caroline squeezed the water out of her hair, absently noting she would also need a change of clothes. Above her, the cackles of some obnoxious young vampire cut off.

He flashed down, severely invading her personal space as he stared wide-eyed at her.

“That’s impossible!” He spat. “You were dead.”

Caroline’s lip quirked. “For centuries now,” she drawled.

He spluttered. “But I compelled you! You were just some useless, weak little girl!”

Her amusement quickly faded, events the girl herself hadn’t known had happened flashing through her mind.

Expression dark, her arm shot up to crush his throat.

She had no tolerance for rapists.

He dangled in her grip, weakly clawing at her arm as he choked. She contemplated tormenting him, the type of suffering she could bring down on his head.

But then she thought of the girl he had assaulted and chased to her death. The happiness that girl now had an opportunity to have. Recalled ancient memories of her own beast of a husband. The being she had become after her friend defied nature to help her. And she decided she and the girl both deserved better than to dwell on this cretin.

“Feel fortunate,” she told him. “You’re not worth my time to torture.”

With no fanfare she plunged her other hand into his chest and ripped out his heart. She didn’t bother to watch the light fade from his eyes, simply chucked both his corpse and heart into the woods like the trash he was. 

Let the animals have a feast.

---

Caroline twirled her pen, wondering for the millionth time how the other Salvatore could tolerate going to school. She had to be here because the whole town knew who Caroline Forbes was. Mass compulsion wasn’t worth it when she was choosing to stay.

After all, there was an unusually high occurrence of supernatural drama here and she wanted a front row seat. At least that part was interesting. Plus, she considered it a bit of a homage to the other version of herself that she carried out some of the gril’s dreams. And winning Miss Mystic Falls was actually somewhat amusing.

Not to mention the worried murmurs she had overheard from the rest of her “friends”. Originals? Doppelgangers? Curses? This supernatural world sure had some fascinating things.

And with some fantastic acting (if she did say so herself) she passed herself off as an accidental turning in the aftermath of what Damon had done. (Oh my god! He-What did he do to me? What’s happening to me?! Please, don’t kill me!) 

It certainly won sympathy points from Elena and her disdain for Damon got Stefan to be, at least publicly, quiet about his concern for his vanished brother. It also helped that no body was found.

Caroline smirked, amused by her own thoughts. Those animals sure ate well that night. 

Still, despite supposedly being a new supernatural now, the others mostly kept her on the outer edges of their drama. Perhaps as some misguided attempt at protection. But while it made information gathering a little harder, overall it made her life more convenient. The less time she had to spend acting like a teen aged girl the better, really.

Her eyes shot up as Alaric walked into the room, pen now still and firmly gripped in her hand. Her instincts were blaring that something was off.

She watched with curious eyes as the man asked what they were learning, flipping through one of his notebooks. Odd. Alaric leaned toward the disorganized side, but he rarely forgot his lesson plans.

One of the girls in the front row, Dana she believed, reminded him that they’ve been covering the 60′s as the silence stretched.

“Right. The 60′s,” he repeated, still not sounding particularly prepared.

Her eyes narrowed as she watched him spend a long moment staring at Elena, an abnormal interest in his eyes. It didn’t seem to be lecherous, and Alaric hadn’t sent that type of warning bell ringing, but if she was wrong...

Her grip tightened, near cracking the plastic shell of her pen.

“The, uh,” he coughed as he turned to write on the board. “The sixties.”

Her eyebrow rose as she watched the man literally write ‘The 60′s’ on the board. That was useless.

“-wish there was something good I could say about the sixties, but...” He turned around, continuing to fail at teaching. “Actually, they kind of sucked. Except for the Beatles, of course. They made it bearable. Uh, what else was there? The Cuban missile thing, the uh...we walked on the moon. There was Watergate.”

Elena apparently took pity on the man.

“Watergate was the seventies, Ric. I-I mean, Mr. Saltzman.” She hurriedly corrected as several people stared.

“Right. It all kind of mushes together up here, the sixties, seventies. Thank you, Elena.“

And though Caroline continued to observe the man, he didn’t do anything else suspicious save lecture with little coherence. Continuing to mention random things that occurred in the sixties. Seeming to just list them as they came to mind.

At the end of class, she waved the others on when they glanced questioningly at her, mouthing that she had a question as she gestured toward Alaric.

Leaning back against one of the front desks, she watched as the man shuffled some more papers around. Managing to read some of the print, she was pretty sure he was just trying to get rid of her.

Too bad. 

Clearing her throat, she called, “Mr. Saltzman?”

He looked up, a quickly smothered flash of irritation on his face.

“Yes, what is it?”

She cocked her head, wondering how she was going to play this. She was around 98% positive now that this was an impostor. Possession, illusion, shapeshifting, something to that effect. And if it were any of those things, even if he had an informant, he couldn’t know much about her. Being on the outskirts was once more to her benefit.

Well, I was just complaining about boredom...

She rushed forward, slamming the man against the chalkboard, her forearm pinned across his throat. There was shock and barely hidden rage in his expression.

Her eyes dilated, noting with rising interest that she couldn’t compel him.

“What are your intentions with Elena? Are you some kind of pervert?”

---

Whatever Klaus had been expecting from the blonde baby vampire it hadn’t been this.

Although her audacity was rather infuriating she hardly knew who he was, and her reasoning was arguably admirable. He did value loyalty after all.

So, deciding to go along with it, he reminded her he was on vervain. Then, made up some nonsense answer about being particularly concerned about Elena, name dropping himself as a reason.

Her eyes were still narrowed and suspicious, but she backed off after a moment, letting him fall from her grasp. His landing was awkward with a little stumble in order to maintain his ruse.

She smiled at him, a surprising and delightful amount of malice in her expression. “Of course, Alaric. Rest assured though, if I discover you lied to me and you have nefarious reasons for watching Elena...Well, let’s simply say I will delight in feeding you your internal organs. For decades, if I have to.”

With a little parting wave, as if she hadn’t just delivered a gruesome (by human standards anyway) threat, she turned and strutted from the room.

Klaus leaned back against the chalkboard, staring after her, a little intrigued despite his better judgement.

Perhaps, he should start looking into backup vampires? He might actually regret killing that one.

---

Making her way down the hallway, Caroline processed what she had sensed when she tried to compel definitely-not-Alaric.

Vampire and wolf.

A hybrid.

Her eyes flashed gold as a smirk curled on her lips.

Fascinating.

---

Author’s Note: Title is “Twin Spirits” aka “Soulmate” in Arabic the closet I could get to Egyptian which has one of the oldest stories involving the concept. Ancient Greece does as well, but I’m trying not to repeat the languages used in the titles. (Viaggio and Cuore Malato don’t count since they were technically the same story). 

Considering how this one turned out, I’m quite pleased that “Twin Spirits” really fits though: both soulmates and parallel selves. Also, if you’re curious, I imagine the formerly dying Caroline went to some All Human AU where she’ll get her happily ever after with that version of Klaus ;) I’m a sap, what can I say?

[howwelldoyouknowyourmoon]

Why I Am Not A Unificationist

I’ve been a Unificationist since childhood. From then, until I was around 19, I had to eat all of the sadomasochism fed by Rev. Moon. My new Father. My new Messiah. I’ll take some time to go through them, but please be patient. I had been told that God was some sort of compulsive crybaby whose universe was forever torn asunder because two naked teenagers had pre-maritial sex in a garden. A step up from the apple and snake, I admit, but the Garden of Eden is still a myth no matter how you spin it.

Anyways, I was also told that human history was a convenient series of failures on behalf of the human race to understand the infinite sorrows of God. The Church painted said God, interestingly enough, as quite impotent. He was a servant to some pseudo-scientific law, called the Divine Principle: a lugubrious, confusing, absurd, and comical attempt to plaster Moon’s idiotic theology onto human history. Neon Genesis Evangelion’s myths made more sense.

I’m not quite sure if the Divine Principle was supposed to be a moral law or not, but I certainly was given that impression. I would be horrified and disgusted if the Principle was by any stretch of the imagination considered moral. This so-called morality dictated that again, because two naked teenagers had pre-marital sex in a garden, the Biblical wars against various tribes, the Crucifixion of Jesus, the Fall of Rome, both World Wars, the Holocaust, the Korean War, and numerous other tragedies, in the Bible and in history, were ordained by the Divine Principle to occur as payment for indemnity, or global karma. The Principle has weird ideas on proportionality. I don’t think that even Zeus, at the height of his maliciousness, would have approved of such a doctrine, so it would be doubly discouraging if a loving and compassionate God did. 

Why then does Moon praise the Principle with such fervor? Even it was true, it should have been condemned and resisted, even if the effort was futile. Of course, there’s always the idea that the Principle is brutally objective, but then, I don’t recall Newton’s Three Laws of Motion or the Pythagorean Theorem bluntly putting persons into sides of God or Satan.

Again, I swallowed this nonsense in my elementary years – I didn’t know any better. I think that I was still watching Power Rangers. So all of this made me very terrified of sex. Moon had a cute obsession with sex. If you don’t believe me, just look up the instructions for the 3-day ceremony. It’s quite revealing. He also said that if a pretty woman attempts to touch your penis, you should kick her 1,000 miles and God will praise you for it, but I’ll touch on his sexism later.

He just could not stop going on about the sexual organs and how they were at the center of the universe, or something like that. Easy enough to pledge abstinence when you’re young, but after puberty, I felt like I was walking in a nightmare. No sex until after I married, and Lord knew when that was going to happen. No choking the chicken, either, but when I did get the occasional slip of the wrist, so-to-speak, my whole being filled with guilt, as if I had committed a crime against God and joined the ranks of Satan.

I realize that abstinence is quite common among many Christians and even Muslims in this country, but at least they are allowed to date! Yes, because God certainly doesn’t want His Children engaging in the evil of DATING. Okay, so women were off limits until I married. At least I got to choose my wife. Oh, what’s that? My wife could be chosen for me? We might barely know each other before getting married? She might not even speak English? There could be a waiting period before having SEX? You know, there’s a word for people who have a peculiar interest in other people’s sex lives, they’re called perverts, and Rev Moon was certainly among them. Lord knows the countless unintentional pregnancies, STI infections, and abortions his teachings may have prevented had he taught instead about the options of masturbation and birth control.

Speaking of sexuality, Rev Moon was diseased with homophobia. I am sorry to say that I caught this disease as well. Moon referred to homosexuals once as dung-eating dogs and homosexuality as an activity that attracts Satan. He also said that those who love dung eating dogs, ergo people who support gay rights, will produce that quality of life. I’ve heard some homophobic statements from Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson, but Moon’s hate speech sounds like something you’d hear from Neo-Nazis. Yeah, I went there, but Moon’s words were straight up dehumanizing and condemnable. NO group of people deserve to be described in that fashion. Also, Moon himself said that Hitler and Stalin were reborn as new beings, and they declared him the messiah. So he seems to think quite a bit of their opinions.

In any case, many religions still have trouble with treating homosexuals as equals, and that’s a shame. I repeat, a shame. Moon could have learned a thing from Desmond Tutu. Even the 14th Dalai Lama supports gay marriage and Pope Francis, who does not like homosexuality, says that the Church has no right to interfere with the spiritual lives of gays and that he has no authority to judge gay Catholics. I grew out of homophobia after I grew out of Moon.

Then there’s this whole damned idea of Rev Moon being the Messiah. Hell, anyone can claim that. Just ask Father Divine, Marshall Applewhite, Elijah Muhammad, Jim Jones, or L. Ron Hubbard. We all know the story. Jesus asked Moon to take up the cross and suffer for humanity as the first True Parent. The whole idea being that Jesus was supposed to get married as opposed to being crucified. Now I wouldn’t force crucifixion on my worst enemy, but marriage on the other hand, should be a choice, not a requirement for joining heaven, as Moon teaches. I think that most people are comfortable with the parents that they already have, and don’t need fanatical ones from Korea.

What makes Moon so special that he should be the Messiah, anyways? It’s his word against mine. Surely, Jesus didn’t expect Moon to convince people on word alone. Except that he apparently did. To be honest, I believed that Moon was the Messiah out of pity. He does deserve some. His home country was torn apart before his eyes, and he had to suffer atrocious accommodations in a North Korean prison camp. No one should have to go through that. The pressure was all around me to convert. Certainly I wouldn’t turn against a man who suffered so much. Before I knew it, I was bowing before photographs and reading books I could hardly understand at six in the morning. For those who want a better idea of what I am talking about, check out the film, “Ticket To Heaven.” Moon, however, had a habit of romanticizing Korea as the center of the world. I don’t hate Korea. It’s a fine nation, but not a holy one. Since Moon cast North Korea as Satan and South Korea as God, he probably forgot to mention that “God’s” nation had brutal dictators like Park Chung-hee.

I could also go on about how, in face of separation of church and state, Moon crowned himself like a king in the Dirksen Senate Office Building, how he implored Americans to forgive Nixon who sabotaged the Vietnam Peace Talks in 1968, how he founded the Washington Times which spews climate change denial, and how he had at least one affair while dictating other people’s sex lives, but I think I’ve made my point. Moon is no more of a messiah than my dead goldfish. If you still want a Korean to admire, try Kim Dae-Jung.

In closing, you may wonder what exactly liberated me from my slave-masters? It was a woman named Nansook Hong, whose book I would implore all of you to read. She married Moon’s first son, Hyo Jin, and suffered unspeakable abuse, both mental and physical. When Moon was told of these things, he blamed her for not being a good wife. This is the sexism I was referring to earlier. Moon was more concerned about his magnanimous legacy than about the domestic abuse of his daughter-in-law. As I read her testimony and followed her journey, I found myself going through a similar one. By the last page, I left the church and freed myself from the depressing theology of Rev Moon. I live a happy life now. I’m not very religious, but I don’t hate religion. 

Moon didn’t learn a lot from religion. Many Jewish scholars see the Old Testament stories as metaphors to learn from, not literal historical events representing the Cain and Abel dichotomy. If Moon really understood Jesus, he would have lived more like Gandhi, Tolstoy, or even Shaliene Woodley, as opposed to Donald Trump or John D. Rockefeller. The Qur’an opposes collective punishment for crimes done by others and would be disgusted with ideas like indemnity. While both Buddhism and Hinduism see atheism or agnosticism as acceptable spiritual paths, Buddhism more so. Moon denounced godlessness as Satanic.

I would like to thank HWDYKYM for giving me a healthy space to express these thoughts. As you can see by the length of this, they’ve been bubbling beneath the surface for some time now. I know that I may not have not have gotten everything right as far as Moon’s doctrine is concerned. I simply speak from my own experience – what I was taught, what I had believed. I hold no ill will towards current members, by the way. Many of them are still beloved members of my friends and family, just don’t expect me to go to workshops.

Sun Myung Moon’s theology used to control members

Divine Principle – Parallels of History

Sun Myung Moon  – Restoration through Incest

Moon’s Theology of the Fall, Tamar, Jesus and Mary

Nansook Hong, transcripts of three interviews

Nansook Hong In The Shadow Of The Moons, part 1

[malcolmadrian97]

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[tsubameongaku]

{Fanfiction} Age of Innocence

Title: Age of Innocence  Author: Tsubame Ongaku Fandom: Riverdale and BUGHEAD Rating: T Disclaimer: The series belong to CW with characters belonging to its respective artists. 

Summary: [Pre-Series] Jughead and Archie reminisce on their past and understand the meaning of innocence.   

Innocence.

A word often used on while we were young. But what does it mean? And whom does it really apply? Does this really only refer to those youths that don’t seem to know any better? Those without guile, cunning and dark agendas behind the eyes of the adults that no child sees or understands until they become one themselves …

“So, what are you writing?”

Forsythe “Jughead” Jones III looks up from his laptop screen to his bestfriend, Archie Andrews slipping into the seat in front of him. He was still wearing his football jacket and his hair was still slightly wet and slicked back from the shower that he most likely just had after practice.  

The two were in Pop’s Diner to discuss their upcoming camping plans.  To people watching them, no two people could be different.  Archie was the smiling boy-next-door that everyone instantly liked. The other boy, Jughead Jones, was brooding and seemed very difficult to approach.  

Jughead shrugged and took a bite of his burger before he responds.  “Nothing much.  I was bored. What did your dad say?  Are we still on this weekend?”

Archie nodded and grinned.  He has been excited for this trip for months and it would be the first time his father would let them go camping without his adult supervision. “Can you believe it?  Maybe there is something about being sixteen that makes parents stop seeing you as a kid.”

Jughead became very quiet and couldn’t help but think that his friend still looked like he always had for the last ten years.  He still looked … young to Jughead.  Archie still believed in doing the right thing, justice in the justice system and that people are still innately good.  So … innocent.  

At the same time, he knew that Archie had stopped being innocent the day he and himself watched their first porn video at twelve years of age while his father was away.  Since then, Archie began looking at girls very differently.  

However, there it was.  A very young Archie Andrews, whose biggest problem at the moment was probably who to take to the school dance and passing Chemistry pop quizzes.

It made Jughead wonder when he started feeling so old. When did he essentially lost his innocence?  Because he lost it long before Archie lost his.

“You got quiet all of a sudden,” Archie said, interrupting Jughead’s thoughts.  

“I was just thinking really,” he answered dismissively.  As much as he knew that his boy-scout bestfriend would try his best to understand, Jughead knew he never really would.  “Do you remember when we were kids, we used to think how cool it was how Superman could do all those stuff in the comics?”

Archie frowned.  This was a bit random of Jughead, especially since he stopped reading comics a long time ago.  Also, he was still a pretty big fan of comics, so he still thought that Superman was still pretty cool.  He did remember though the time they were both still fans of that world.  Jughead had often came over to his house after school where they would both read comics.   Even back then, Jughead was more of a fan of Batman but lately Jughead was more interested in writing his own stories than reading someone else’s work.  “Yeah, I remember.  What is this about?”

“As kids we really never thought about all the people that had have been killed by the bad guys, like people that died from the Joker gas or the collateral damage from fights in the city or the victims of abuse.  We just seemed to shrug it off.”  

Archie thought about this.  He hated to admit it, but he still didn’t.  He liked a cool story just as much as the next guy he supposed. It wasn’t like something like in the comic books was really going to happen in a place like Riverdale anyway. “We were young I guess…”

His reply was pretty lame and Archie knew it.

Jughead didn’t seem to think so.  He just nodded as if to agree with him.  “I wonder how the people left behind feel, especially those people that died so brutally.  What is their story? Vengeance?  Grudges? They should also have a story to tell right?”

“Where are you going with this, Jug?”

“Innocence … I suppose.  Where does it begin?  More importantly, where does it end?”  

Archie looked at his friend and thought about this. He could tell that knowing was important to his friend.  However, he couldn’t say he was sure himself.  Even though it has only been a few years since he was a kid, it already felt much longer.  

He did remember that as a kid, comics had been an escape for him.  

Suddenly, they were interrupted by the ring of someone’s cell phone.  It was Betty texting to let them know she would be finished with her tutoring soon. She would be catching up to them soon.

Archie smiled and told Jughead.  “I guess it really ends when you start looking at things differently.”

“Like what?”

“Life?  Girls?”

“You mean sex.”

Leave it to Jughead to be very blunt about it. “Maybe not just that.  Even things like death.  We don’t really think much about it since as kids we really only think about our heroes and every time our hero dies in the comics, they just come back so you could say we developed this naïve outlook of life and death.”

“And sex?  When did you start looking at Betty differently?”

Archie blinked.  Jughead was really laying it on him.  “Betty?  What are you talking about?  I don’t see her differently.”

“You said when you start seeing girls differently and as we all know.  Betty is a girl.”

“Betty’s different!” Archie said all too quickly. “She’s not just a girl.  She’s my bestfriend.”

Jughead just stared at him for a moment and frowned. It was a weak argument and he could sense that even Archie knew it.  It was clear to even him that he just refuses to see Betty as a girl.  He’s seen Archie eye plenty of girls in school but the one girl Jughead believed who probably was the best person he knew was just off the table.  “My friend, as long as she has an X and Y chromosome, she is, by all means, female.”

“You don’t understand.”

Jughead made a little shrug again.  He already knew how stubborn Archie was.  “You’re right.  I probably don’t.  She’s a great girl.”

“The best,” Archie agreed.  “Which is why she deserves better…”

“But she wants you …” Jughead didn’t say that out loud.  He sensed Archie probably knew this little detail anyway and it is probably why he was avoiding the subject.   Betty had always had eyes for Archie since they were kids.  He had always been on the outside looking in when they were together.  “Maybe, but maybe you just probably don’t love her enough to fight for her.”

“What do you mean by that?” Archie actually looked angry this time.  While it wasn’t unusual of Jughead to be painfully blunt, and usually Archie was too used to it to really mind, this time he was so mad his face was almost as red as his hair.

“Exactly as it sounds.”  He didn’t feel obligated to lie to his bestfriend.  “Arch, don’t be a coward.  You will regret it.”

“I am not a coward.  I care about Betty too much to … well dirty this.”

“Dirty what?”

“Our friendship.  Her.”  He wanted Jughead to understand.  All his life, a lot of people probably already thought he and Betty were “endgame”.  They have been together for so long and friends for so long.  He knew better.  Betty had a real future not tied to this town.  In fact, last night she told him of an internship she had out of town.  “She’s too smart … too innocent for someone like me.”

“And maybe that is your problem.” Jughead smirked. “You put Betty on some kind of pedestal.   If you think Betty is simply just pure and perfect, then you probably don’t really know her at all.”  

Archie became quiet as Jughead began finishing the burger he had been eating.  He just didn’t know what Jughead was talking about.  Of course Betty was perfect.  He should know — they have been together almost their whole lives.  He has seen Betty impress teachers after getting the highest grade in their class, lead charity drives for cancer patients and provide free tutoring to kids that can’t afford it.  

Jughead knew that Archie just didn’t get it. While he sees what Archie sees and knows that she would never hurt her friends, he has also seen how her eyes darkened when someone from the football team says something out of line.  It didn’t escape his notice how she has no qualms with getting even either, such as offering to tutor and teach the things that couldn’t possibly come out of the test.  

No.  Betty wasn’t perfect … nor was she as innocent as Archie seems to think.  Then again, he was always the first to notice things about her.  Such as … the innocence that Archie seems to think she has been lost long before Archie lost his …

“Why all this sudden interest in girls anyway?”

He gives another shrug. “I can’t say I am interested in girls per se.  We’re talking about Betty aren’t we?”

Archie looked as his watch and began getting ready to leave.  “I got to go.  I am supposed to help dad at the construction.  You’re going to be okay here?”

“Of course.  Who do you think you are talking to?”

Archie leaves a few minutes later, again leaving Jughead to himself to write …

—

However, is the loss of innocence such a misfortune? After all, they gain something infinitely more precious.  

The moment a child loses the stars in their eyes and their rose-tinted glasses they gain something very few will truly appreciate…

… they become wise.

—

He didn’t know how long he had been writing before Betty walked in with her books and bag in tow.  She looked a little stressed out but there still wasn’t a hair out of place.  Betty looked perfect and maybe that was why the world sees her as such, he realised.    

She smiled when she saw him and he found himself smiling back.  

She slid into the seat Archie vacated not long ago and gave a deep sigh.  It has clearly been a long day for her.   “Hi, Juggie. Did Archie leave?” She tried not to look disappointed but Jughead knew her too well to not notice.

“Yeah.  He had to get back and help his dad,“ he told her.  “Congratulations getting that internship by the way.”

She brightened.  “Thanks, Juggie.  That means a lot to me.”

“I know,” he nodded.  “He’s happy for you too, Betts.”

She nodded knowing he meant Archie.  She began rummaging through her bag, looking for her notes to start with her homework when something fell out of her bag. Jughead bends down to pick it up and finds that it was a pill bottle with Betty’s name on it.  

“Are you seriously still taking these?” Jughead asked quietly, slipping them into her bag.  It wasn’t the first time he’s seen them.  He had seen in her room a few times when he sneaked into her room to visit.  “Betts, you have to stop.”

Betty looked troubled but didn’t say anything. She knew he was right and she wanted to stop too.  However, sometimes when the hurt was too much she get too weak to resist the temptation. “I can handle it.  You don’t have to worry,” she assured him.  “You worry too much.”

“And by the looks of it, you don’t worry enough.”

Instead of replying, Betty simply pulled out her notebook and began to work on her assignment.  He would offer to let her copy off his, but he knew that she would always prefer to do it herself.  

While the world saw Betty’s grades and her charities. Jughead saw little girl that was scared to go home because she was afraid to show her mother her test paper that didn’t have a perfect score.  He saw the girl that cried into her pillow because she failed to raise enough money to save a little boy dying with Stage 4 cancer.  He has seen her rage at the doctors for refusing to allow her one last visit before he died.  

Perfect?

Archie doesn’t see it and Jughead doesn’t blame him. Betty Cooper wasn’t perfect … and that was why he loved her.

“Juggie?”

“Yeah?” he answered, not looking up from his computer screen.  

“You’re playing Rebel without a Cause at the drive-in this weekend, right?”

He smiled behind the screen knowing that she wouldn’t see it.  “Yeah. I guess I will see you there.”

She smiled. “It’s a date.”

[trinitiesblog]

Hays's Nelson Muntz "objection" to unitarian theology

Hays has replied to my previous post. As usual, I omit most of his abuse and ranting, and try to find some meat. There is a scrap or two in the sauce, once you thoroughly filter it. About purely philosophical arguments from theism to Trinity, I said: “By far most [trinitarians] have never so much as heard of them.”

Well, I don’t know about that. For instance, Bruce Metzger deploys those arguments in his classic 1953 article…

I stand by the comment. Just poll most of the (officially) trinitarian Christians you know.

I said,

And among trinitarians with some philosophical education, enough to understand how such arguments are supposed to work, the wiser among them see how tenuous they are.

Yet he admits that Swinburne and Davis mount arguments like this. He’s saying they lack wisdom? Davis teaches at Claremont, where Dale studied. Seems likely that Dale was a student of Davis. Does he think Davis is a hack? 

Pretty uncharitable reading there! Both Swinburne and Davis are good philosophers, and they know that such arguments are tenuous – in the sense of speculative and not hard to dispute. They’ve been famously critiqued by another good philosopher, Brian Leftow, in his 1999 “Anti-Social Trinitarianism.” And of course by yours truly. All three are good philosophers, good Christians, and good men, and yes, Davis was my teacher, and has a been a true friend since. The others are friendly colleagues whom I respect and admire.

[Dale:] A very proper and reasonable skepticsm kicks in. In my view, which is also the view of many trinitarian philosophers and theologians, we should think that whether any Trinity theory is viable should depend on whether or not it best explains scripture, and not on any argument like this.

Dale talks out of both sides of his mouth. He explicitly attacks the Trinity on philosophical grounds, alleging that it violates the indiscernibility of identicals. He preemptively disallows Biblical testimony to the Trinity on philosophical grounds. 

Steve seems not to understand my work, so typically, he goes for the personal attack. Basically, whenever he says I’m lying, two-faced, or stupid – that’s because he doesn’t get it. (Of course, many a more patient and sympathetic readers does.)

For the umpteenth time, there is no one Trinity theory; and so, it would make so sense for me to try to somehow rule out “the Trinity” on philosophical grounds. Some Trinity theories have indiscernibility of identicals problems, while others don’t. Steve think that his theory does, which is probably true, and so he calls his own theory here “the Trinity,” is if this were simply what the tradition says. But again, the traditions gives only formulas and vague ideas which a person then must make sense of as best he can. See chapters 6 and 7 in my book about the diversity of views here.

[Dale:] Stage 1: Show how it is impossible for there to be a unipersonal god. In other words, any god must be multi-personal. (Sometimes this is expressed clumsily, that there can’t be “a unitarian god.”)

…Thus, for Stage 1, you must derive a contradiction (or some evident impossibility) from the concept of unipersonal god, a god who is a single, great self.

My argument didn’t aim that high. Try again. 

That’s what Davis and Swinburne and Morris are trying to do. Perhaps Steve is just none too clear about what must be done. They’re trying to show how there can’t be a unipersonal god, so that theism implies the falsity of unitarian theism. Those arguments are what I’ve been critiquing in that paper and posts that he linked.

Perhaps Steve imagines that “undercutting” or “undermining” unitarianism just alleging that it has some problem, something that strikes Steve as a little funny? Well, that’s not too interesting a game. But yeah, it’s harder to lose at it! If he just prefers not to engage – that’s up to him.

When he [John] says “God is love,” I think that’s synonymous with “God is loving”… Now, it may be that John intends something deeper. That God is the ultimate source or exemplar of love. Be that as it may, I take “God is love” to mean love is a divine attribute. 

Right. As I said,

So then, I agree that “God is love.” At most, this means that God is essentially, paradigmatically, and maximally loving. Let’s grant all that, leaving aside sober exegesis for the sake of argument. But this doesn’t imply that he must always actually love another, any more than his being merciful entails that he’s having mercy on another.

What about never loving another? Would he still be loving? 

Conceivably, yes. Just as a person might be forgiving and merciful, and yet never actually have the opportunity to actualize those tendencies or character traits. And so God can be perfectly loving, and yet be free to never create, to be forever alone. But of course, never lonely. All of this seems as possible as can be. Can’t deflate it with just a few rhetorical questions.

[Steve] That, however, raises another issue. If creatures are all God has to love, then there’s a lack of parity between the lover and the beloved. A unitarian god relates to humans the way a boy related to his pet lizard.

[Dale] Well, that’s a wild non sequitur! For the Jew or Christian, a “unitarian god” relates to humans like Yahweh in the OT relates to Abraham, Moses, David, Elijah, and Isaiah, and how the Father of the NT relates to Jesus, Paul, and John. Hard to see how Hays thinks it follows that the heavenly Father of Jesus’s teaching must instead be like a third grader with a gecko!

Is Dale really that dim? The metaphysical distance between God and man is infinitely greater than the metaphysical distance between one creature (a boy) and another creature (his pet lizard). That’s the point of the comparison.

This metaphor of “metaphysical distance” seems to be fogging Hays’s vision. The God of the Bible is supposed to be incalculably, infinitely “above” us, yet he speaks to men, reasons with them, and enters covenants with them. No, not at all like the boy and his lizard, despite the “greater distance.” There is a kind of parity still there, in the God-humans case, at least, enough for a kind of friendship that far surpasses what a pet owner has. That is why the scriptural king-subjects and husband-wife metaphors are appropriate for the God-creatures relation.

But let’s not lose where we are in the argument. Suppose that divine-person to divine-person love would be qualitatively better than divine-person-human love. But, why must a divine person enjoy that better kind of love? Because he’s “perfectly loving.” That’s a clear non sequitur, though. One can be perfectly loving without actually loving another. To have the perfectly loving character trait does not imply engaging in the best kind of love. So, Hays’s argument isn’t getting anywhere. As I said before,

What he’s not grasping is that “love” as a divine attribute need not be an action; it is plausibly a character trait, just as with God’s being merciful, or his being forgiving, kind, or generous.

Does Dale just lack reading comprehension? I addressed that distinction in the OP. Why does he repeat objections that I already dealt with, as if nothing was said by way of reply? 

Hays has this weird habit giving a wholly unconvincing argument, and then when later you’re still not convinced, he’ll shriek that you’re just not paying attention, ’cause clearly he’s already creamed you many times. This is not a good habit for a would-be apologist! (Hays can be helpful in this regard.)

[Dale] There is no hold, seemingly, that the action of loving can get on perfect being reasoning. At least, this has only ever been asserted; it has never been shown that an absolutely perfect being must be loving another.

But that wasn’t my argument. I didn’t say that to be morally perfect, God must be loving. That wasn’t a premise of my argument. I happen to think that’s true, but that’s a different argument. Rather, my argument, at that stage of the argument, was based on the nature of love as a relation. Why does Dale find it so hard to follow the actual argument? 

Riiiight. It’s clearly me who’s getting confused. Anyhoo, just from love being a relation, nothing interesting follows, as the conversation has already shown. You have to also employ a premise that a divine person  must be enjoying the best kind of love (which isn’t self-love, which seems like a reflexive relation). I assume you try to justify that with perfect being reasoning. But it’s Hays’s argument, such as it is. He might try out some other justification. I’m listening.

[Steve] …I’m pointing out that dispositions or character traits are properties of persons. So it’s inadequate for Dale to terminate with love as a character trait, for that’s not where the explanation ends. There’s something more ultimate than character traits, and that’s the personal property-bearer of personal properties like love. 

This is  a truism, that only persons/selves can stand in relationships of interpersonal love.

[Steve] why would God have an intrinsic capacity for something merely contingent? For something that God can do without?

[Dale] Because God is essentially absolutely perfect, and this entails the ability to enter into I-Thou relationships. That seems like a pretty good answer, right?

Is Dale speaking for himself or attempting to speak for me?

Himself.

Once again, my argument wasn’t predicated on perfect being theology. Rather, it involved a distinction between necessity and contingency. 

If Dale is speaking for himself, why would God’s essential perfection entail the ability to enter into I-Thou relationships?

Yes, it does entail that.

On the one hand, he denies that God has to make creatures to provide I-Thou relationships. On the other hand, he regards divine self-love as sufficient. So where is there room in God’s essential nature for this intrinsic capacity?  

Self-love is sufficient for what?

In my view, intrinsically and essentially, God is able to love another, and he is also essentially all-powerful, all-good, and all-knowing. So necessarily, God possibly has someone to love, someone he makes.

We’re all still waiting for that part where some problem for unitarian theology appears. Hays seems to think that he smells one about, but he can’t put his finger on it.

Feel free to keep looking, Steve, for that silver bullet against non-trinitarian theism. But I don’t expect that you’ll find it. It would probably have been found long ago and be widely known and agreed on, if there were some conceptual problem with belief in a perfect self.

From a unitarian perspective, why would God be less than “essentially absolutely perfect” if he didn’t have an innate capacity for interpersonal relationships?

Because then he wouldn’t be absolutely perfect. He’d be greater if he had such a capacity. To not have it would be a terrific disability.

Would God be incomplete if he lacked that capacity? But why would he be incomplete if he lacked a capacity for something that’s unnecessary to his being and well-being? If the unitarian God is complete without interpersonal relationships, and if self-love is sufficient, why is it necessary for him to have that capacity in the first place? Isn’t that superfluous rather than essential?  

I’ve just answered all of these questions above. Capacity for love of another is plausibly necessary to his being, as it seems essential. But here’s another compatible answer. If a god is supposed to be someone we can personally deal with, personally relate to, who can hear our prayers, intervene, forgive, help – then such a being must be capable of a kind of friendship with humans. So “God” would hardly be a god, in the above sense, if “God” were unable to love another. But the biblical “God” is supposed to be a god, a necessarily unique one. Of course, a unitarian Christian thinks that God is a loving, merciful, covenant-making god because of scripture, tradition, and Christian experience. But yeah, even a full-blooded concept of a deity seems to presuppose a capacity for some kind of interpersonal love.

[Dale] this is what we should think about God, that he’s self-sufficient, and not at all in need of company – neither for his sanity nor for his existence.

Whether the unitarian God is self-sufficient is not a given. That’s the very question at issue. What’s the basis for presuming that a unitarian God who experiences the (physiological) passage of time is immune to loneliness? 

Perfect being theology. Self-sufficiency seems to be a perfection. It is implied, I think, by aseity – that God neither exists nor has his perfections because of any other.

Steve, you’re the one trying to make a problem here; it is incumbent on you to show some impossibility. Otherwise, you’re just emoting that it all seems weird to you. You need an argument, sir. Just an  (imagined to be) devastating question, asked with an air of incredulity does nothing.

I would add that we also have the unipersonal portrayal of God in the Bible together with its assumption that God is not needy in any sense.

[Dale] Is he arguing that divine sanity requires divine company? If so, that’s a stretch! Why, Steve, should we think that a divine person must be a social animal, a type of being which requires the company of its own kind in order to thrive?

Our understanding of God requires us to analogize from human experience. That’s our frame of reference.

Again, revelation, not just experience.

Moreover, humans aren’t just any kind of creature. Along with angels, humans are the highest creatures we’re know of. Both humans and angels are interpersonal beings. Indeed, that’s characteristic of more intelligent species. Is God less than we are? 

Of course not. But just because we have a feature, and God is greater, it doesn’t follow that he must also have that feature! The idea of perfect being reasoning supposes that God has the greatest compossible set of features. Now, let’s take care with the term “interpersonal.” It might mean friend-needing. Or it might mean, capable of friendship. Humans are certainly both. Angels, at least the second. If you’re a Christian, you must say that God is the second. But is he the first? It would seem not. He’d be greater if he could exist and flourish without depending on another. And so plausibly, a perfect being would not need friendship.

Now, this sort of reasoning is defeasible. If we had some some “social” trinitarians imagine – a scriptural portrayal of three perfect, divine friends living in an eternal dance of blissful communion  – then we might wonder if there being three is necessary, for it’s hard to see how it have some other sort of explanation. This is, I think, basically how such speculations got restarted in recent times. But remember what we’re doing here. Hays is saying “Well, that’s kind of weird, ain’t it?” about the unitarian’s concept of God. And he’s laying aside scripture, to see if he can make trouble for it just conceptually. But as you can see above, he doesn’t get anywhere.

No, it doesn’t seem weird to us, Steve. All your questions are easily answered. This view of God as a perfect self seems a great fit with scripture and with reason. If you could kindly show us how our view entails some self-contradiction or how its inconsistent with some necessary truth, well, that’d be very helpful of you.

I skip the end of his post, where he goes way out on a limb, gets easily pushed out of the tree, and then has a tantrum. Hilariously, he thinks that I’m losing it, as I’ve have “the tables turned” on me!

But you can read the end of the exchange and see how it went.

http://trinities.org/blog/hayss-nelson-muntz-objection-to-unitarian-theology/