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heyiwrotesomethings · 4 years ago

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It’s Been Too Long

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader

A/N: Alright Shinobu Community, take a fuckin’ sip babes. It’s kind of a long one. My brain was like, friends to enemies to friends to lovers? To which I replied, this is going to be simultaneously too long and too short. I love me some slow burn but also I can’t justify putting that much time into something like this lol. While writing this I learned that one becomes a Hashira by killing a demon moon OR killing at least fifty demons. I didn't know that before, but I was in too deep to fix things. Y’all are a Kinoe rank that probably should be a Hashira given how much slaying you’ve done, sorry! As far as warnings go, I think we’re good. Unless fighting and misunderstandings aren’t your thing. It’ll all be better in the end though! Word Count: 15,088

The estate was dark and bleak. It had rained for nearly a week straight, the patter of water against the solid structure of the tiled roof was a near constant companion to the blank static of despair that clouded everyone’s minds.

Kochou Kanae had died of lethal injuries bequeathed to her by a high ranking demon who had left her to bleed out as the sun made its appearance. Perhaps if it had risen even just a few minutes prior, she could have evaded such a cruel fate.

Shinobu had found her of course, the world is just that cruel, or perhaps kind in giving her sister that closure, to be able to see her one last time before she took her last gurgling breath.

It was appropriate, the rain. After the funeral it was a temporary reminder of the warmth that had been reaped from the estate, never to be felt again in this lifetime. Not that (Y/n), Kanao, Aoi, or the youngest residents of the estate needed a reminder. Shinobu certainly didn’t either.

“Shinobu, you didn’t come to dinner. Please try to eat something.” (Y/n) coaxed, sliding the door open. The only light came from a small lantern inside the swirling gloom of the room, highlighting Shinobu hunched over her desk with her head in her hands. “Shinobu?”

“It’s only been a week.” (Y/n) strained to hear the taut whisper of the girl who had grown to be her closest friend. The girl who had given her a second chance at life when she had nowhere else to go. It hurt to hear her sound so broken. “It feels like time is standing still and going too fast at the same time.”

(Y/n) set the light meal in front of Shinobu and leaned against the desk, the wood creaked slightly as she did so. “I know what you mean. I feel the same.”

It wasn’t the first time they’ve talked like this. To be survivors of such unthinkable atrocities, one could go crazy keeping it all locked inside. The guilt, fear, helplessness... sometimes the memories played on loop night after night, waking up to the screams in their minds making sick harmonies with their own.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” Shinobu spoke tentatively after a moment of drizzling static tapping against the roof. She raised herself just enough to wrestle a paper out from under her arms and slid it to (Y/n). “Oyakata-sama has sent me a summons to meet with him and the Hashira. He intends for me to take,” Shinobu’s voice grew tighter and she could not bring herself to finish, instead a painful sounding intake of air was all that was audible.

(Y/n) took the paper, holding it close to her face as she squinted, the dull light of the lantern made the letter a bit difficult to read, but the message was clear.

“He wants you to take her place.” (Y/n) frowned, a pained gleam pricked at the corners of her eyes.

“It’s been too long, but yet, not long enough,” Shinobu’s fists tightened, “I know the world hasn’t stopped spinning, demons haven’t stopped killing, but why do they want to replace her so quickly? Why are they willing to toss her aside? I don’t...”

“Shinobu,”

Shinobu finally looked up at (Y/n), angry and mournful tears tracked down her face, “I’m not my sister, I’m not Hashira material. I can’t fill the hole she left, (Y/n)!”

(Y/n) abandoned her perch on the desk to crouch beside Shinobu, enveloping her in her arms. Shinobu tightly grasped her back, watery gasps and sharp inhales fell from her lips as she tried to gain control of her breathing once more.

“Oyakata-sama knows you aren’t Kanae. You’re strong in your own right, Shinobu. He wouldn’t breach the subject if he didn’t think you could succeed by your own merits.”

“I have to keep the estate in order, the infirmary, the girls... I can’t take all this responsibility—“

“You don’t have to,” (Y/n) cut her off, the words came a bit sharper than she meant them too, “you’re not alone Shinobu. We can all have our own parts to play. You don’t have to shoulder this all by yourself.”

“Thank you.” Shinobu’s voice cracked.

They had stayed up well into the night. They hardly talked, the two young girls sat huddled together, holding each other tightly. No matter how much they’ve been hurt, time continues moving forward. Just because a boat has been shredded against a reef, that doesn’t mean the waves will grant reprieve from their assault. No, one is expected to keep swimming or to swallow the salty brine and drown. The Butterfly Estate’s allotted time for grief had passed. Now they were being given the not so subtle command that it was time to get back to work.

***

“I wish you could come with me.” Shinobu said the next morning as she sat on the engawa to put on her shoes. “Even if they made you wait outside I would feel a bit better.”

“You’ll be okay, we’ll be thinking about you all day and waiting for you to come back home.” (Y/n) assured, resting her hand on Shinobu’s back. She was almost afraid to touch the haori Shinobu now adorned, as if her hand would pass right through the material.

(Y/n) was surprised when she saw Shinobu wearing it instead of her usual short white haori, though she supposed there was comfort in holding this piece of her sister close. Perhaps the butterfly patterned haori could comfort Shinobu where (Y/n) and the others could not.

(Y/n) must have been staring too long because Shinobu leaned away from her hand, catching it with her own before (Y/n) could withdraw it completely. Shinobu squeezed the hand a moment, (Y/n) swore her heart froze upon seeing the ghostly smile painted over Shinobu’s lips.

“You’re right. No point in fretting over it, is there?”

“...Right,” (Y/n) blinked, “yeah. You’re going to do great.” (Y/n) managed a smile in return but she could feel the corner of her lips tremble at the effort. She wasn’t sure why, but this smile Shinobu was sporting sent chills down her spine.

“I’ll be off then,” Shinobu stood, releasing (Y/n)’s hand as she stepped away from the engawa, “Do make sure to keep everything in order while I’m away.”

“Of course!” (Y/n) winced at her own volume and Shinobu exhaled a quiet chuckle before turning away to make her way down the path. (Y/n) watched until the haunting haori could no longer be seen between the wisteria trees.

***

It was rather late when Shinobu returned. (Y/n) had just helped the youngest girls of the estate get ready for bed and was heading to the kitchens to prepare some tea to help her sleep. She had jumped in her skin when she saw the back of the butterfly patterned haori in the dim lantern light. Shinobu turned at the sound and sent a small, tired smile (Y/n)’s way.

“I thought I’d catch you here before you turned in for the night.” Shinobu spoke. “You almost always take a cup of tea to bed. I hope you don’t mind having some of what I’ve already prepared.”

It wasn’t the first time Shinobu caught her going to the kitchen to make tea. Though usually it was much later in the dead of night when nightmares and grief kept sleep at bay. (Y/n) wasn’t sure what kind of leaves or brewing Shinobu did, but her tea always managed to knock (Y/n) out cold into deep, dreamless bliss. Something about the way Shinobu was speaking was rubbing (Y/n) the wrong way however. There was none of the familiar attitude. The bashful bitterness that came with the sweetness of the tea. (Y/n) decided to shake it off and returned Shinobu’s tired smile. It would take time for things to seem normal again.

“You know me too well. Thank you.” (Y/n) graciously took the cup, relishing in the cup’s warmth and the relaxing scent that wafted off of the steam. “How did today go?”

“It was... fine.” Shinobu’s smile faltered and she quickly disguised it by sipping her own tea. “I’m officially a Hashira. Insect Pillar Kochou Shinobu.”

“It has a nice ring to it.” (Y/n) put in after a moment’s consideration hidden behind the guise of her clearing her throat. She didn’t know if a ‘congratulations’ would be what Shinobu would want to hear give the circumstances that led up to her new title.

“And how was holding down the fort?” Shinobu asked. It seemed she wanted to shift the topic of conversation away from herself. Not that (Y/n) could blame her.

“Everything went smoothly. Well, Aoi did get a bit aggravated with Kanao about one of her coin decisions but we worked it out. Sumi, Kiyo and Naho are picking up the recovery training lessons quickly and are doing very well. The Kakushi have been taking great care of the infirmary. All patients were still stable last I checked in.” (Y/n) reported.

“Thank you for keeping up with all of that.”

“I have to pull my weight around here somehow.” (Y/n) replied, hiding a yawn behind one hand.

“It’s getting late. You should get to bed before the tea kicks in any further.” Shinobu said, putting her own cup down.

“Aren’t you getting tired too?”

“I made myself a different brew, actually. I’ve got more work to do.” Shinobu allowed herself a little sly smile at the tiny frown (Y/n) wore as she looked into her own empty cup as if it had betrayed her somehow.

“Well, don’t forget you need to sleep too. Don’t overwork yourself.”

“Goodnight, (Y/n).” Shinobu called over her shoulder. She was already walking out of the kitchen.

“I mean it Shinobu. Promise me you’ll sleep tonight.” (Y/n) gently demanded, slipping into the hall to fall in step beside Shinobu.

“I’ll promise to try. Is that acceptable?” Shinobu asked, a bit of familiar snark came through and it made (Y/n) relax a bit and nod.

“Alright. Goodnight, Shinobu.”

At the end of the hall they broke off in different directions. Shinobu to the lab and (Y/n) to her room.

***

(Y/n) went through most of her morning routine before going out of her way to find the newly appointed Hashira. She hadn’t seen her since they parted last night. (Y/n) groaned inwardly, already assuming she’d find the young scientist still balancing equations and mixing beakers.

(Y/n) adjusted her butterfly hairpin before knocking her knuckles against the door, waiting for a reply.

“Shinobu?” (Y/n) had called out after another knock led to no reply. (Y/n) frowned and slid the door open of her own volition, closing it behind her once she was inside. It didn’t take long for her to find the exhausted girl hunched over an array of papers, dead asleep.

“When I told you to go to sleep last night, I had your own bed in mind, not a desk.” (Y/n) sighed quietly.

(Y/n) startled at another knock at the door.

“Who is it?” She asked, keeping her voice soft as to not disturb Shinobu.

“It’s Hayato, miss.” The muffled voice called. Ah, one of the Kakushi. “Kochou-sama has guests to attend to.”

“Set them up in the garden with tea, please. Kochou-sama will meet them just as soon as she finishes these papers.” (Y/n) said. It would not do to have news of the young master of the estate sleeping so late in the morning, and at her desk no less.

The Kakushi dismissed himself to carry out his orders and (Y/n)’ shoulders relaxed as his footprints faded down the hall. (Y/n) didn’t want to wake Shinobu, but if her presence was required, then the meeting must be important.

“Hey, Shinobu,” (Y/n) called softly, gently shaking Shinobu’s shoulders, “you have guests that need to see you.”

Shinobu managed to curl further into herself, mumbling a few curses under her breath that (Y/n) couldn’t help but giggle at.

“Maybe you’d feel better if you had actually gone to bed instead of passing out like this.”

“Who is it, what do they need?” Shinobu grumped, sitting up to stretch her abused spine.

“I’m not sure. A Kakushi came by to tell you about them. I asked him to set them up in the garden with tea.”

“Thank you for taking care of that,” Shinobu rubbed her eyes and stood, her chair scratching against the floor, “I should get going then.”

“Let me fix your hair quick at least.” (Y/n) said, already freeing Shinobu of her own butterfly clip. “Hold still.”

“It’s a little hard when you keep tugging your fingers through my hair.” Shinobu winced.

“Sorry, just a second.” (Y/n) spoke around the butterfly wing that she held between her lips as her fingers worked to gather Shinobu’s hair. Once Shinobu’s hair was neatly clipped back into place, (Y/n) circled her and smoothed out the wrinkles in Shinobu’s clothes the best she could before finally backing away with a satisfied nod.

“Are you done yet?” Shinobu asked, a faint dusting of blush powdered her cheeks.

“Yeah, you still look tired, but at least you look a little more presentable.” (Y/n) said, opening the lab door and ushering Shinobu through it.

“Presentable.” Shinobu scoffed. “Come with me to the garden?”

“I don’t know if that would be appropriate. I’m not sure who is visiting.”

“Just make yourself busy in the blooms. You live here, you can go where you please.”

“Okay, I’ll come.”

The young girls made their way outside, it was warm and sunny, a bit humid as well after all the rain the week before. The sweet smell of the flowers invited deeper breaths to swallow up the scent into every bronchiole of their lungs.

(Y/n) broke off from Shinobu with a little wave, giving a respectful acknowledgment to the people waiting with their tea before busying herself with the flora. Checking on the quality of the plants as Kanae had taught her. The memories spent with the older girl who had taught her so much made (Y/n) shiver despite the warmth of the sun beating down.

(Y/n) would on occasion, discreetly observe the progression of the meeting. The smile Shinobu wore as she spoke to the visitors unnerved her. Even just the way Shinobu was holding herself now, prim and proper, (Y/n) wondered what they could possibly be talking about.

Then the familiar cawing of a crow circling over her head broke (Y/n) from her thoughts. She released her gentle grip over the flower she had stopped to smell and craned her neck to see her crow calling out to her. A mission, her heartbeat picked up in pace. She hadn’t been on one since a few days before Kanae’s death. How out of practice could she be?

“Pardon the noise,” (Y/n) bowed. The meeting had paused in their hushed conversation to observe the bird as well. (Y/n) hardly gave Shinobu a glance as she past. Her fingers trembling slightly as she made her way back inside to retrieve her nichirin blade from her room. (Y/n)’s mind buzzed and her crow’s caws sounded muted and muffled, far away. She kept walking, willing her breaths to remain controlled. Her concentration broke as a hand reached out from behind her and tugged her back.

(Y/n) turned to meet Shinobu’s eyes. Though more subdued, the concern she saw there was genuine.

“(Y/n), I kept telling you to stop. Are you listening to me?”

“I’m sorry, I guess I was just focusing on the mission ahead.”

Shinobu breathed deeply releasing the air in a shaky exhale before gripping (Y/n)’s face in one hand, surprising her.

“No you weren’t.” Shinobu’s grip was firm, “You need to concentrate on your surroundings. I was almost yelling at you just now. I need to know you are going to be able to keep your head about you out there.”

(Y/n) tried to nod her head but Shinobu’s hand kept her head in place.

“I need to hear you say it.” Shinobu said.

“I can keep my head. I will.” (Y/n) swallowed uncomfortably.

Shinobu searched (Y/n)’s face, slowly releasing her grip from (Y/n)‘s jaw and instead grabbed at the neck of (Y/n)’s uniform pulling her so close their noses bumped.

“You better,” She spoke softly.

“I will,” (Y/n) repeated.

Shinobu untensed, her fingers released (Y/n)’s uniform and she wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug that (Y/n) quickly reciprocated.

“Your meeting,” (Y/n) recalled after a moment.

“I asked to be excused. I’m the master of the estate, I can get away with escaping for for a few minutes.”

“I wouldn’t make a habit out of it if I were you.” (Y/n) attempted to joke.

“Only when it matters.” Shinobu nodded seriously, causing (Y/n)’s heart to leap.

(Y/n)’s crow cawed impatiently and the girls parted. (Y/n) left to retrieve her blade and Shinobu watched her back as she left, her hands clenched into tight fists beneath the sleeves of her sister’s haori.

***

Night after night, the missions kept coming. (Y/n) had begun to wonder if she’d ever get to go home again as days became weeks. Scattered letters between waves of demon slaying were the best she could manage to make sure everyone back home knew she was alright.

Another night, a new moon. A few more nights and it would be a full month since she’d last seen everyone. She was glad she took the time to say goodbye before she left. She never imagined she’d be asked to work for so long without reprieve.

Another well timed flower breathing technique beheads another demon and (Y/n) falls against the trunk of a tree breathing hard. She is uninjured but greatly fatigued. The thought to sit and rest hardly enters her mind before her crow commands her eastward to eliminate another threat before dawn.

Breath after breath, technique after technique, night after night (Y/n) fought until everything ached and beyond. When she saw the the sun peak out over the horizon it was almost enough to bring (Y/n) to tears, but she never faltered. She had to stay strong. This was the life she chose to pursue. To save people from the same fate that befallen so many people she had cared about.

It was during an exceptionally hot day when the sun was at its highest point that (Y/n) flinched awake at the shrill squawks she had grown to loathe.

“What?” She hissed between her teeth, her fingers knotting in the grass that had served as her bed for the day.

“Return home to the Butterfly Estate! Return home to recover and rest! Await further instruction!”

(Y/n) lifted herself to rest on her elbows to stare wide-eyed at the bird sitting in the tree branch overhead. For the first time in that very long month, she allowed the tears to finally fall.

***

(Y/n) felt nervous coming back after so long. She opted to return from the rear entrance in an attempt to not garner too much attention. She allowed herself a tentative smile as the gardens came into view. Her fingers skimmed across the colorful blooms as she walked, freezing up only when she saw Shinobu collecting herbs in the distance. Her foot snapped a twig, alerting Shinobu to glance behind her.

“Hi, stranger.” Shinobu simpered, getting to her feet. “Oh!”

(Y/n) forgot all her previous worries and jogged up to Shinobu, picking her up with the added strength that she had built up in her month long absence and twirled her around with abandon.

“(Y/n)?” Shinobu chuckled with surprise, bracing her arms around (Y/n)‘s shoulders as she was flung around.

“I missed you!” (Y/n) sniffled, finally putting the girl down but still holding her tightly.

“I missed you too.” Shinobu said, rubbing (Y/n)’s back. “What took so long getting back, hm?”

“Mission after mission after mission.” came (Y/n)’s bitter reply. “I actually cried when my crow told me I could come home... I don’t know why I told you that. That’s embarrassing.”

Shinobu laughed, pulling back from (Y/n) to get a good look at her. “My, (Y/n), I can tell your time away had made you stronger. Even if you are still a bit of a crybaby.”

“Hey!” (Y/n) pouted.

“(Y/n) is back!”

“Woah!”

(Y/n) was sent stumbling backward a few steps by three blurs of white. Naho, Sumi and Kiyo spoke a mile a minute filling in (Y/n) on all the goings on of the estate. Aoi and Kanao came by soon after and gave (Y/n) their own greetings, expressing their happiness over the slayer’s return in their own ways.

It was good to be home, it was. But after a few days, (Y/n) really got a chance to see how different Shinobu had become.

The tone of her voice carried like a soft breeze and a polite smile could always be seen on her lips. Aoi reminded (Y/n) more of the Shinobu she remembered than the current Shinobu before her. It unnerved her. The way Shinobu would tilt her head just so and giggle daintily into her hand... it was like staring at a ghost.

(Y/n) thought she could get over the change, but she simply couldn’t. Not when staring into those dark, purple eyes. Oh, how they swirled with anger and despair. If Shinobu couldn’t fully believe in the persona she had crafted for herself, then (Y/n) wouldn’t either. Late one night while helping Shinobu in the lab, (Y/n) finally decided to confront her.

“Why do you keep smiling like that?” (Y/n) frowned, worrying the page of the textbook before her between her fingers.

“Hm? I’m afraid I don’t quite know what you mean.” Shinobu replied casually, smile still firmly in place as she crushed some herbs under her pestle.

“You do too know what I mean,” (Y/n) eyebrows furrowed slightly in aggravation, “why do you keep smiling like you’re okay when you’re clearly not?”

“What have I said or done that makes you think I’m not okay? I’m perfectly fine, (Y/n),” she chuckled, “you worry for nothing.”

“That mask might have everyone else fooled... or maybe they’re just complacent, but I’m tired of pretending nothing is wrong. Talk to me, Shinobu.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Shinobu shook her head, “there is nothing to discuss. Perhaps I’ve kept you up too late.”

“You shouldn’t have to hide what you’re truly feeling,” (Y/n) persisted, “not from me at least. I thought we were friends.”

“We are.” Shinobu’s tone was nearly clipped as she crushed the herbs a bit more vigorously.

“Then stop acting so, so fake!” (Y/n) spat, wincing almost immediately as fast has the words came out. There was probably a better way she could have said that. Before she could apologize and try again, Shinobu put the pestle on the table with a harsh clink and stalked over to where (Y/n) was sitting. Fighting to keep her tone in check, she stared (Y/n) down with that plastic smile and spoke in a low, hushed tone that filled (Y/n)’s veins with ice.

“So I’m fake, is that right? People change, (Y/n). You were gone for a month, you can’t expect everyone to wait for you, to not change or grow in your absence.”

“People change, yes,” (Y/n) swallowed tightly at the proximity, “but whatever this is Shinobu, I really don’t think it’s healthy. I can tell you’re bottling something up. Kanae—”

“Leave.”

“...what?”

“Leave,” Shinobu closes the textbook in front of (Y/n) and although she does so with care, the sound is deafening in (Y/n)’s ears, “I don’t care where you go, just get out of my lab. I’ve had my fill of this mindless chatter.”

“Are you being serious right now?” (Y/n) clenched her fists and stood from her chair, the legs slid roughly against the wood below.

“Yes, I don’t have time for immature children right now I’m afraid.” Came Shinobu’s airy reply.

“Immature— stop acting like you know better than me, we’re both kids, we’re fourteen!“ (Y/n) seethes, “I’m worried about you! I care about you! Don’t you get it?”

“Your worry is unfounded. It’s late and you are being of no help to me like this so I’ll ask you once more, leave.”

(Y/n) felt heat pricking the corners of her eyes. “I feel like I don’t know who you are anymore.” She breathed. “But fine, I’ll leave if that’s what you want.”

“At this moment in time, I couldn’t ask for anything better.” Shinobu replied, turning her back to (Y/n) to continue what she had previously been working on.

Once (Y/n) shut the door with finality and her quick footsteps became softer as she ran down the hall, Shinobu exhaled harshly, gripping the pestle tightly in her hand as she mercilessly pounded the dried herbs into dust.

“Only immature people don’t control their emotions... only immature people...”

As Shinobu repeated her mantra, (Y/n) burst into her room and looked around her. With trembling hands she changed into a fresh uniform and packed a small bag of belongings and slinging it over her shoulder. She grabbed her haori and attached her nichirin blade to her hip.

She looked around the room once more and caught her reflection in the little hand mirror on her desk, catching the bright colors of a wing that secured her hair in place. She reached back, freeing her hair from the clip and stared at it. She ran her thumb over the decorative clip before setting it on the desk. She reached for a plain hair band and tied her hair back with that instead.

(Y/n) left her room, sparing one last hurt glance at the butterfly clip before exiting the estate grounds. Before long, her crow circled overhead and (Y/n) held her arm out for the bird to take perch. The crow cawed at her expectantly, questioning her.

“If she wants me to leave, then what else is there to do?” (Y/n) shuddered in the wind. She turned away from the estate, willing herself not to turn back.

“Where will you go?” The crow asked.

“...I don’t know.”

With every step leaving the warmth of the estate farther behind, (Y/n)’s heart grew heavier in her chest.

***

“Have any of you seen (Y/n) today?” Shinobu asked the girls once they had come back in after hanging the laundry out to dry.

A chorus of negatives and head shakes met her and she sighed inwardly. “Very well then. Thank you.”

Shinobu traveled through the maze of hallways that made up her home, easily finding herself in front of (Y/n)’s door, knocking politely. With no reply, Shinobu forced herself not to roll her eyes and opened the door.

“(Y/n), if this is about last night...” Shinobu blinked at the empty room. Futon made, clean floors, not a thing out of place, but no (Y/n).

“Perhaps she’s out training.” Shinobu said to herself. She was about to close the door and head off into the gardens when a glint from the desk caught her eye and she approached. A soft gasp left her lips as she picked up the hairpin. Cradling it in her hands, Shinobu forced her breaths to remain controlled. (Y/n) had never gone a day without wearing the pin since the Kochou sisters gifted it to her.

In the safety of the empty room, Shinobu allowed herself to slump over the desk. She held the discarded hairpin close to her chest, immediately understanding what this small symbol meant. Yes, she knew what it meant, she just wished to know why. She fought against the waves, against the feeling that she was drowning again.

***

Four years was a long time, and if you asked (Y/n), the demon slayer would say that was especially true with her line of work. The demons were never the same, but the routine in between was lonely and dull. Kill a demon, settle down at an inn or in the trees for the day, move to the next village and repeat. Sometimes the stays were longer, but that was the gist of it.

(Y/n) kept to herself most of the time. There wasn’t really a point in making anything more than loose acquaintances with the constant traveling and dangers her work presented. Even on the few missions she had been paired up with other slayers in the area, she focused on the job at hand before quickly making her way to her next assignment. That started to change after she met Kamado Tanjirou and his demon sister Nezuko.

They did not get off on the right foot to say the least.

(Y/n) had been sent to the same location as the young slayer for a mission and knew something was off about him right away. Something off with that box he carried around anyway. (Y/n) opted to let him be for the time being, focusing on the mission ahead. Skip forward to the heat of battle, and (Y/n) could hardly believe her eyes when a demon burst from the boy’s box to attack another demon that had snuck around Tanjirou’s back.

(Y/n) had no time to watch and focus on this new development at the moment, she had her own demons to take care of. Her flower breathing techniques weaved through her enemies and heads went flying. Before long, the mission was completed and (Y/n) turned to the boy breathing heavily in the dirt with the demon from the box hovering over him looking at (Y/n) with curious eyes.

“You’re really skilled, (Y/n)-san!” Tanjirou praised, somehow unaware of the danger his sister was in, “You don’t even look like you’re out of breath.”

“I’ve been doing this for years. I know a lot. For instance,” (Y/n) spoke, her face stern as stone as she readied her blade, startling Tanjirou, “every demon must be destroyed.” She went in with a quick slash aimed at the demon’s neck only to pause at the last second when the foolish younger boy leapt to his feet to shield the demon from the blow.

“What are you doing?” (Y/n) asked sternly.

“Wait, she’s my sister! She’s a good demon!”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you that what you are doing is against corps rules. I can sympathize with wanting to hold onto your loved ones, but there is no such thing as a good demon. Step aside.”

“No, Nezuko has never eaten a human and she never will!” Tanjirou held his ground while his sister growled at (Y/n) from behind him.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes. “Alright then,” she said with a sarcastic sweetness, “prove it.”

“What?” Tanjirou blinked.

“Prove it, take off the muzzle. Let’s see if she has as much control as you claim she does.”

“But—“

“It shouldn’t be a problem, right? If she’s as docile as you claim what’s the issue?”

Tanjirou grit his teeth and gently pulled the muzzle to rest around his sister’s neck. (Y/n) stepped forward, her face inches away from the demon. She wasn’t worried, if the demon lunged for her she was confident she could slice its head the moment the air changed.

“Well demon?” (Y/n) sighed, surprising Tanjirou by slicing the pad of her thumb on her sharp blade, “hungry?”

To Nezuko’s credit, she hardly flinched. However, her eyes followed the path of the blood and a small trickle of drool slid past her lips. (Y/n) taunted her a bit further, waving the bloodied hand in front of her nose, still Nezuko held strong and even went as far as turning away.

“...I must say, I’m rather impressed,” (Y/n) finally spoke, stepping back from the demon and licking at her own wound, “marechi blood such as my own usually makes the demons go crazy,” she turns back to Tanjirou, “still, you must know that keeping a demon alive like this, especially as a slayer, is dangerous for both of you.”

“I know,” Tanjirou bowed his head.

“Well,” (Y/n) stretched and sighed, “as long as you know I guess it’s your own problem.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, just don’t call me out if a Hashira finds you out. I don’t feel like dying a disgrace.” (Y/n) waved him off. “You’re going to have to work even harder and be more discreet. That’s my advice to you.” And (Y/n) was going to leave it at that and walk away, but then her crow chanted in tandem with Tanjirou’s, calling them to continue forward together. (Y/n)′s eye twiched at the grating sounds.

“It looks like we’ll still be working together for some time, (Y/n)-san!” Tanjirou smiled, catching the older girl off guard by the sincerity behind it. You’d think he’d be more put off considering (Y/n) was planning to kill his sister not five minutes ago.

“I suppose we are.”

“Say, (Y/n)-san, you’re strong. You can help me get stronger too, right?”

“Mm!”

“Hey, get her off of me!” (Y/n) momentarily panicked as the demon wrapped her arms around her waist.

“Nezuko, manners!”

(Y/n) wasn’t sure what she had done to get saddled with the strange siblings, but she could tell her job just went above her pay grade.

***

As it turns out, the Kamado siblings weren’t so bad. In fact, (Y/n) was starting to get really attached to the two. It was when Inosuke and Zenitsu were pulled into their little group, that was when (Y/n) realized she didn’t know what true pain was.

“(Y/n)-san, marry me!”

“Flower Girl, fight me!”

All damn day and night.

(Y/n) thought she’d finally have reprieve once Tanjirou had healed up at the Wisteria House, but of course the two boisterous boys were being sent with them to their next mission, Natagumo Mountain.

Zenitsu cowered at the forest edge and (Y/n) felt no remorse in leaving him behind as she sprinted ahead of Inosuke and Tanjirou, freeing the puppeted Mizunoto slayers.

Eventually they had been split off from each other to fight their own battles. (Y/n) was tired but otherwise unharmed, surprised when a small Nezuko came barreling into her.

“Nezu—?” (Y/n) gasped as the air shifted above her and she dodged the quick swipe aimed at the tiny body that clung to her. She quickly pivoted, blade in hand, and crossed swords with the assailant her eyes blowing wide at the placid face in front of her.

“Kanao?!” (Y/n) yelled out, the nostalgia and adrenaline coursing through her body was an odd, slightly terrifying combination.

Kanao tilted her head, her lips parted ever so slightly as recognition gleamed in her eyes. Despite this, Kanao did have a mission to complete and (Y/n) was keeping her from completing her orders. She continued swiping at the older girl she used to know, trying to behead the demon she could not fathom why she was protecting.

(Y/n) parried and blocked best she could, taking a defensive approach while she tried to talk Kanao down. She didn’t want to hurt Kanao, but she didn’t want Nezuko to be killed either.

Finally a saving grace, a crow swooping by with a message that saved Nezuko’s neck. (Y/n) sighed in relief as Kanao pulled back. Still looking at (Y/n) she pointed to the small demon that had wrapped herself tightly over (Y/n)’s back.

“Is this Nezuko?” She asked looking for a positive ID on the demon in question.

“Yes.” (Y/n) easily replied.

“Come with me then.” Kanao said, already corralling (Y/n) and her demon backpack in the direction of the forest edge.

(Y/n) walked alongside her a bit begrudgingly. If she made a break for it, she could have probably gotten away, but it was very likely Tanjirou and the others were already in custody. The best chance they had now was to do as they were told and hope Nezuko’s resolve would stand firm.

So (Y/n) hid Nezuko in her haori as the sun began to peak over the hills and followed Kanao to the clearing of bustling Kakushi. On the way, she began preparing her story for the trial she was sure her little team was bound to endure.

She was immediately broken from her thoughts at the ethereal sight of the Insect Pillar emerging from another point of the woods with the Water Pillar and a badly beaten Tanjirou on his back.

(Y/n)’s breath caught in her throat as those deep, dark eyes found hers at it was like time was at a stand still. At least it would have been if not for Shinobu steadily making her way towards her, her expression painfully impassive beyond the small upturn of her lips. Shinobu kept coming until she was directly in front of (Y/n).

Nezuko stirred in her sleep, clutching at (Y/n)’s back as if she could sense anxiety in the slayer’s heart. The demon was the only thing grounding her at this point as Shinobu tilted her head, an almost sinister look in her eye as she observed the small demon bundle protected by (Y/n)’s haori. All too soon, her cold eyes found their way back to (Y/n)’s and she spoke.

“I’m not going to have to tie you up, am I?”

(Y/n) closed her eyes briefly and tried to take a calming breath. With a short, almost imperceivable shake of her head, she hoarsely replied.

“No.”

“Let’s try to keep it that way then.”

Shinobu and Kanao had let (Y/n) help Nezuko into her box, but then they immediately separated the two, having a Kakushi carry the box with a wary look in her eyes. (Y/n) did her best not to look behind her where Kanao and Shinobu walked, no doubt watching her for any sign of flight.

She gulped, eyes nervously shifting to the Water Pillar walking beside her, and the Kakushi who was now carrying Tanjirou in his stead. The Water Pillar spared her an emotionless glance as he forged ahead.

“Is he going to be alright?” She asked in a hushed tone.

Enough time had passed after her question that (Y/n) had figured the man wasn’t in the mood to talk, understandably so, but (Y/n) was worried about the state Tanjirou was in. She nearly jumped out of her skin when he actually answered her minutes later.

“That will all depend on how the trial goes.”

(Y/n) felt dread pool in her stomach as they continued to march down the mountain.

***

The garden of the Master’s estate would have been lovely on any other occasion, but (Y/n) could only bring herself to stare at the pebbles below her knees and Tanjirou passed out at her side. They had taken Nezuko somewhere else in the meantime, she could only hope they would let the demon be, let her prove herself in front of them instead of killing her on principle.

(Y/n) could feel that Shinobu was standing just behind her but she dared not engage. Four years of silence between the two and a trial for treason in the highest regard had brought them together again. (Y/n) wanted to scream.

Finally Tanjirou began to stir and (Y/n) allowed herself to push away her turmoil to rouse the younger boy gently. The last thing they needed was for him to be all up in arms before the trial even officially began.

“(Y/n)-san,” Tanjirou winced, “where are we? Where is Nezuko?”

“We’re at the Demon Slayer Headquarters,” (Y/n) replied, her voice was hardly above a whisper as she felt the pressure of all the Hashira’s eyes boring into them, “I don’t know where they’re keeping Nezuko, but right now you need to focus on the trial ahead.”

“The trial?”

“For harboring a demon, Tanjirou.”

“I wouldn’t bother trying to justify it! A crime as heinous as yours only ends one way!” Rengoku Kyojirou loudly proclaimed, rallying a range of replies from his fellow pillars.

“Now that he’s finally awake to witness his punishment, let’s behead these traitors and the demon and get on with our lives.” Uzui Tengen added.

“Please,” (Y/n) forced her voice not to waiver, “allow him to explain the situation at least—“

“You’re in no position to be asking for favors, girl.” Obanai Iguro cut her off, glaring down at her from where he lounged on a tree branch. “You had best hold your tongue. A slayer at your rank should be ashamed. I’m surprised you haven’t already sliced yourself open for the embarrassment you’ve brought to the corps.”

“Iguro-san!” Kanroji gasped at the harsh words.

“Who are these people, (Y/n)-san?” Tanjirou groaned, noticing for the first time that his hands were tied tightly behind his back.

“Tanjirou, are you serious?” (Y/n)’s tone was hushed and urgent, “they’re the Hashira! You know, best of the demon slayers?”

“I don’t know, umph!” (Y/n) hastily covered his mouth, a nervous sweat gathered at her brow.

“Just try to be respectful, will you? You already broke the thin ice you’ve been traveling on, let’s try not to drown as well!”

“This isn’t right, (Y/n)-san! Where is Nezuko? Zenitsu? Inosuke? Murata?” Tanjirou spoke out, his voice heavy with emotion as he fought his way up to his knees.

“What I want to know is why we haven’t tied Tomioka or the Kinoe ranked slayer.” Obanai sneered from his tree, ignoring Tanjirou’s desperate tone. “They are both part of the boy’s schemes and should be punished as such. How are we going to teach them a lesson?”

“Oh they’ll be fine,” (Y/n) shivered hearing Shinobu speak above her from where she knelt in the pebbles, “we’ll come up with a penalty later.”

(Y/n) froze, her eyes refused to look up beyond the feet that stood before Tanjirou and herself.

“What I’m interested right now, is hearing this boy’s story.” Shinobu said. “He’s been traveling with a demon all this time, and I wish to hear why. It must be quite the tale to have Tomioka-san break ranks,” the feet take a step closer and Shinobu’s voice dropped in volume, “and you as well, (Y/n).”

(Y/n) tightened her grip over her pant leg, still refusing to look up. She could imagine an array of expressions her old friend could be wearing right now that could cut her deeper than any blade. Pity, anger, disgust, smugness, apathy, that blank smile... no, (Y/n) couldn’t bear to look up.

“So why, Kamado Tanjirou?” Shinobu asked.

“Who cares?” Uzui scoffed from a few yards away, yet he waited for the boy to explain himself.

“She’s my—“ he broke into a fit of coughs and (Y/n) tried to soothe his back, telling him to breathe.

Shinobu stooped down, a gourd of water in hand, offering the water to Tanjirou and finally catching (Y/n)’s eyes as the boy drank the medicated water. When Shinobu’s eyes returned to Tanjirou, (Y/n) remembered how to breathe.

“She’s my little sister!” Tanjirou proclaimed. “She’s never hurt anyone and she never will!”

A few of the Hashira began casting their doubt, but Tanjirou powered through.

“I became a slayer to find a cure for her! In two whole years since she became a demon, she’s never eaten a single person! Let her continue to fight by my side!”

“Well, well, looks like the fun’s already starting.”

(Y/n) turned her head and her breathing hitched. Of course the Wind Pillar of all people would get his hands on Nezuko’s box.

“Is this the boy who has been traveling with a demon? Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Shinazugawa asked with a sinister grin.

“Please put down the box Shinazugawa-sama!” The Kakushi (Y/n) recalled to have prior possession of the box pleaded.

“Shinazugawa, please do not act out of line.” Shinobu warned.

“Nah, run that by me again, kid?” Sanemi jeered, holding the box precariously in one hand, “fighting alongside a demon? Impossible, you idiot!”

Tanjirou and (Y/n) called out in horror as the Hashira rammed his blade clean through the box, skewering Nezuko.

Tanjirou scrambled to his feet and lunged at Sanemi, (Y/n) was about to get to her feet as well, but Shinobu held her firmly in place, clutching (Y/n)’s arm tightly while shooting her a warning glance.

(Y/n) could only watch, mouth agape, as Tanjirou head butted Shinazugawa to the ground.

Mitsuri attempted to stifle a snort, covering her face in her hands.

“If you can’t tell the difference between good demons and bad ones, then you don’t deserve to be a Hashira!” Tanjirou yelled.

“We’re doomed.” (Y/n) whispered weakly. She felt as if all her blood was sinking to her knees, sinking as fast as their chance of forgiveness down the drain.

Before Sanemi could retaliate, a couple of Oyakata-sama’s children announced the Master’s arrival. (Y/n) was quick to follow Shinobu in a bow, wincing when she heard what could only be Sanemi pounding Tanjirou into the rocks, forcing him to bow.

“Hello everyone,” Oyakata-sama addressed the garden, his voice carried in the warm breeze, “how good it feels to have you all here.”

Sanemi greeted the Master, formally asking for an explanation. If not for the seriousness of the moment, (Y/n) would have rolled her eyes.

“The Kamado siblings have been sanctioned, you see. I request you all respect that.” Oyakata stated simply.

An array of mostly negative objections arose at this ending with Sanemi calling for punishments for Tanjirou, (Y/n), and Giyuu.

The Master stood silently for a moment before asking one of his children to read a letter aloud. A letter from a previous Hashira, detailing Nezuko’s history. The letter also revealing that should Nezuko fail; Urokodaki, Tanjirou, and Giyuu would atone through seppuku.

A few of the Hashira were still willing to speak against such a plan, swearing that it was not a risk worth taking. Once there was a lull in their heated remarks, Ubuyashiki saw fit to address (Y/n).

“(Y/n), my child.”

(Y/n)’s head jutted up at the sudden call of attention to her presence. “Ye— yes, Master?”

“Why do you think that of the squad that has been built around you, only you are here?” Oyakata-sama asked with an warm smile.

“I would suppose it would be because I should know better than a ragtag group of Mizunoto, Master.” came (Y/n)’s subdued reply.

“I would hope so.” The Master chuckled, causing heat to bloom across (Y/n)’s cheeks. “Why didn’t you kill the demon?”

“I was going to, but she proved herself to me,” (Y/n) began speaking more evenly as she recalled the moment, “I presented her with my blood, my rare blood, and she turned away. I have traveled with the Kamado siblings for weeks and not once had Nezuko hurt anyone. She protects people, she sleeps to replenish energy. Based on everything I have observed, I believe in Nezuko. I believe in Tanjirou.”

“Would you stake your life on this along with the others listed here today?” Oyakata-sama asked.

(Y/n) breathed in, firmly nodding her head. Her eyes meeting Ubuyashiki’s milky blank one’s despite his lack of vision.

“Yes, I would.”

Shinobu’s hold on (Y/n)’s bicep curled. (Y/n) hadn’t realized she had still been holding her down.

“And here we have three, now four, people willing to take responsibility for this demon. What say you, my children?” The Master asked the Hashira warmly.

“Forgive me Master, but this is not a matter of numbers!” Sanemi yelled, “Demons are sick creatures that need to be put down and I’ll prove it to you now!”

Sanemi sliced his arm, much more blood than (Y/n) had conjured with the small cut to her thumb that she had presented to Nezuko. She and Tanjirou watched as the blood dripped to the box, staining the lacquered wood.

“No good doing this in the light.” Obanai said, “it won’t come out unless it’s dark.”

Sanemi dashed to the shaded engawa, enticing Nezuko to come out with another stab at the box.

“No!” Tanjirou yelled, he made to scramble to the engawa, but was quickly subdued by Obanai.

“Stop!” (Y/n) echoed Tanjirou’s sentiments, pulling against Shinobu’s hold. “Why are you being so needlessly cruel?”

Sanemi ignored them, a wicked grin on his face as he watched Nezuko emerge from the box, growling lowly.

“Well then, demon?” He sneered, holding out his arm.

(Y/n) could tell Nezuko was straining against the pull of the marechi blood. With all of the injuries she had sustained working against her as well, it couldn’t be easy for the demon to hold back.

“Nezuko!” Tanjirou wheezed as Obanai was pincering his lung painfully with his elbow.

“Kamado-kun,” Shinobu addressed, “don’t struggle too much while in that hold, your lung might burst.”

Tanjirou only struggled harder, surprising everyone when he broke through his rope restraints and stumbled towards the engawa. Tomioka stopped Obanai from pinning him again.

“Nezuko!” Tanjirou called again.

His voice seemed to finally break through to Nezuko and after a few tense moments, she turned away from Sanemi in disgust.

(Y/n) couldn’t help the relieved smile that overtook her lips.

Once the scene was relayed to the Master, he seemed pleased with the report. He told Tanjirou that although Nezuko had done well to prove herself, they would need to grow even stronger before they could be fully accepted by the others. With that wisdom, he said they were free to go.

(Y/n) startled as Shinobu finally let her go, raising her arm to speak. “If all is well then Oyakata-sama, allow me to provide lodging for them.”

Both (Y/n) and Tanjirou seemed a bit wary of this sudden hospitality, (Y/n) even more so, but if Shinobu noticed or cared she didn’t show it, signaling the Kakushi who had been standing by to gather the injured boy and the demon.

The Kakushi tasked with carrying Nezuko seemed a bit frightened of the little demon kneeling in her box, so naturally (Y/n) rose to carry her instead.

“I’ve got her.” She smiled kindly and reached for the box and secured it shut, but not before giving the demon girl a few well earned head pats that rose Nezuko’s mood greatly.

Another Kakushi picked up Tanjirou then (Y/n) and the two Kakushi quickly made their retreat. That is, until Tanjirou bursted back into the garden asking to headbutt Sanemi.

“Please excuse us!” (Y/n) and the two Kakushi bowed deeply once they got him back under control and sped off twice as fast. (Y/n) and the Kakushi running beside her berated Tanjirou from where he sat on the other Kakushi’s back for such a disrespectful display after being allowed the impossible.

When they reached the Butterfly Estate, (Y/n)’s heart squeezed in her chest. The grounds looked to be near the same as the night she had left. No one was there to greet them at the door, so they went around the gardens and found Kanao standing amongst the butterflies.

“Hi, Kanao.” (Y/n) greeted the younger girl bashfully. Now that they weren’t battling over keeping Nezuko’s head, (Y/n) finally took in how much she had grown in four years.

Kanao stayed silent, a serene smile on her lips as she merely observed the group that had approached her.

“What are you all here for?” A sharp voice called from behind them, causing the Kakushi to jump and spin to quickly explain they were here to put Tanjirou in the infirmary.

“Well then come with me...” Aoi’s words trailed off a bit once her eyes found (Y/n)’s face.

“Hi Aoi,” (Y/n) gave a nervous half wave, “you’ve gotten a bit taller.”

Aoi marched straight up to (Y/n) and berated her with a barrage of small fists pounding painlessly against her chest. “What would you expect after being gone so long!” She sniffed, “Four years without a single letter or visit? We thought you were dead, idiot!”

“(Y/n)-san? Do you know these people?” Tanjirou asked from Gotou’s back.

“Yeah, I uh, sorta used to live here.” (Y/n) replied, allowing Aoi to continue hitting her to her heart’s content.

“‘Sorta used to live here’, you’re family! You have always had a place here! Now come on, I’m sure Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho will have a bone to pick with you as well. And Shinobu-sama!” Aoi’s fist struck especially hard at the thought, “Shinobu-sama is going to have some choice words for you when she gets back I just know it!”

Aoi led them all inside, occasionally throwing a few more jabs into (Y/n)’s side to make sure she was really there. She didn’t admit that was what they were for of course, she played it off more as a punishment for disappearing for so long.

There was screaming coming from the infirmary and (Y/n) would have been worried if she hadn’t recognized the sound almost immediately.

“Zenitsu!” Tanjirou called excitedly.

While Tanjirou and poor Gotou were dealing with the sobbing, snotty boy, Aoi had dragged (Y/n) over to Kiyo who had been tending to Zenitsu only moments before.

“Look who finally decided to come home.” Aoi told the younger girl who looked up, tilting her head. (Y/n) almost thought Kiyo hadn’t recognized her. Being as young as she was, she wouldn’t have blamed her, but then she burst forward and hugged (Y/n) tightly around her waist.

“What’s going on in here? Hm, Aoi-san, Kiyo?”

Naho and Sumi had made their way into the infirmary with a basket of fresh linens and paused at the entryway for a moment before they realized who their friend was hugging and ran over to join her with tears in their eyes.

“(Y/n)-san, where have you been all this time?” Naho whimpered.

“Why didn’t you say anything before you left?” Sumi cried.

“I’m sorry,” (Y/n) knelt down to better hug them all, “I know it’s not enough to make up for anything, but I’m sorry for leaving like that. It wasn’t fair,” she looked up to meet Aoi’s stern blue eyes, “to any of you.”

“Well, make it up to us by sticking around from now on.” Aoi said, crossing her arms. “No more running away.”

“But...” (Y/n) was conflicted. Had Shinobu not told the girls why she had left? (Y/n) mustered up the best smile she could and nodded feebly. “All right.”

“(Y/n)-san, your box is... humming?” Sumi pointed at the wooden box.

“Oh, um, you see... in this box is my friend, Nezuko,” (Y/n) treaded carefully, not wishing to startle the girls too badly if she could help it.

“You have someone in a box?” Aoi barked, “well let them out for goodness sake!”

“It’s a little bright in here...” (Y/n) shifted her vision to where Tanjirou and Zenitsu were talking, catching sight of Inosuke as well. Poor boar boy looked like he’d seen better days. “And I’m not sure that Shinobu-” should she still speak of her so informally? “-would be pleased if I let her out without her blessing.”

“Why wouldn’t Shinobu-sama allow you to let someone out of a box?” Aoi rolled her eyes.

“It’s complicated. I’m sure she’ll want to talk to you all about it once she comes back. Until then, Nezuko will be fine in here.”

The girls, though incredulous, let the subject drop for now. Although, they couldn’t help but eye the box with suspicion. Once Tanjirou was settled in the infirmary, the butterfly girls dragged (Y/n) away to talk about the goings on of the last four years which soon devolved into hounding (Y/n) for her own stories to share, even Kanao had come by to sit and listen.

“...And that’s how I helped the fishing village take care of the demon that was lurking in the sea.”

“Tell us another one, (Y/n)-san!” The youngest girls pleaded, kicking their feet in the air behind them. They had migrated to lay flat on their stomachs as the stories progressed and watched (Y/n) recount her adventures with their heads propped up on their arms with rapt attention.

“I’m afraid that will have to wait for another time, it’s quite late you know.”

Everyone turned to the door to find Shinobu staring down at them. The youngest girls pouted a bit, trying to get a bit more time to stick around, but Shinobu held firm and directed them to their rooms.

“You’ll still be here tomorrow, right? (Y/n)-san?” Sumi asked from the doorway.

“I...” (Y/n) pulled at the sleeve of her uniform and subtly pursed her lips while trying to figure out how to proceed, to her surprise, Shinobu spoke up on her behalf.

“I promise you’ll see her in the morning. Now of to bed. (Y/n) and I have much to discuss.”

The thought of having a prolonged conversation with Shinobu sent shivers through (Y/n)’s spine. Once all the girls were well out of sight, Shinobu redirected her attention to (Y/n).

“Let’s drop off your cargo first,” Shinobu said, motioning to the box sitting beside (Y/n), “I’ve arranged a room and Kamado-kun has been wondering where his... sister, has been.”

“Of course.” (Y/n) stood, shouldering the box.

Apparently the room was rather far. (Y/n) felt as if the silence between them was slowly eating at her until she finally decided to speak. For better or for worse.

“You’ve taken all of this extraordinarily well,” (Y/n) commented, testing the waters.

“Mm, I’d like to hold off on any conversation until we drop off the demon. Use this time to gather any thoughts, if you have them that is.”

(Y/n)’s brow furrowed slightly, eyes narrowed. She was sure that was some kind of dig at her intelligence, but she held her tongue.

They dropped off Nezuko, (Y/n) and Tanjirou bid each other good night, and then (Y/n) was led to an all too familiar space, the lab.

Shinobu motioned for (Y/n) to sit at one of the less cluttered tables while she closed the door firmly behind them. (Y/n) would have been lying if she said she wasn’t even just a tad bit concerned by the setting of this ‘talk’ that was about to unfold. Finally, Shinobu took the stool across from her on the other side of the table. She laced her fingers together, using them to prop up her chin as her endlessly amethyst eyes bore into (Y/n)’s. That ghostly smile seemingly perfected after four years of separation, had (Y/n)’s hands clench into fists under the table.

“So,” Shinobu began, her voice deceptively sweet, “when exactly do you think it was when you completely lost your mind?”

“Excuse me?” (Y/n)’s eye twitched.

“Defending a demon, offering up your own life for a demon to live... how insanely idiotic. I thought you were smarter than that. I suppose it had been.. four years, was it? Four years since you ran off. And I thought that was the most careless thing you could ever do. You really have outdone yourself!”

“Stop,” (Y/n) had heard enough of these little jabs and she new well enough Shinobu could go all day as long as she hadn’t changed too drastically in their time apart. However, Shinobu powered through.

“Everyone was devastated when you left you know. We were a family and you just up and left in the middle of the night without a word so soon after—“ After Kanae, “Now you’re putting everything on the line for some demon? You’re a coward. A selfish coward.”

(Y/n) was really angry now. She stood up so fast her stool clattered to the ground behind her. She slammed her hands against the table and stared furiously into Shinobu’s placid expression, though she could detect a hint of a heated spark in those deep purple eyes.

“Don’t act like you’re so innocent in all of this! You told me to leave! You want to judge me for trusting Nezuko with my life, fine! But I only did what you commanded of me when I left. You don’t get to say I just fucked off because you think I didn’t care enough!”

Shinobu had the nerve to chuckle, though no trace of humor was there, as she slowly rose to her own feet and assumed a similar stance over the table as (Y/n).

“Did you really think when I said that, when I told you to leave the lab, I meant I wanted you to walk out of my life?” Shinobu asked seriously.

“I didn’t know what you wanted! You weren’t the same person anymore! Don’t try telling me that it wasn’t what you wanted either, you never came looking for me. You never sent your crow. Tell me you weren’t ecstatic when you woke up that morning and didn’t have to deal with me anymore!”

Shinobu slapped her own hand against the table, a vein pulsed painfully under the skin of her forehead. She opened her mouth to retort, poisoned words ready to lash out with a flick of her tongue, but as luck would have it, a Kakushi nervously called from the other side of the door.

“Kochou-sama, the treatments for the, uh, despiderfication of the slayers from Natagumo Mountain are ready to be carried out with your supervision.”

Shinobu closed her eyes, breathing in deeply before opening them again and looking significantly more drained.

“I see. Please inform the others that I’ll be there in a few moments.”

“Right away, Kochou-sama.”

As the footsteps pattered away, (Y/n) fixed her stool upright before heading in the direction of the door, assuming she and Shinobu were done talking, or screaming rather. (Y/n) was surprised to feel Shinobu grasp her hand as she tried to pass by.

“You remember where your room is, right?” Shinobu asked, the undertones of her voice still taut with anger.

(Y/n) too tired to fight on, responded simply with a mute nod.

“I had the Kakushi clean it earlier today. Everything should still be as you left it.”

Shinobu let go of (Y/n)’s hand and it immediately felt cold. The Hashira opened the lab door and stepped out into the hallway, her back to (Y/n) as she made her last parting statement.

“If you know what is good for you, you won’t step a foot outside of estate grounds without speaking to me first.”

“And if I don’t?” (Y/n) asked just to be obstinate.

“Then I guess I’ll have to hunt you down for sport.” Shinobu quickly replied, turning to face (Y/n) just to show her how serious she was.

(Y/n) couldn’t help the weak guffaw that left her lips. To hear such a threat delivered by such a soothing tone was practically oxymoronic.

Shinobu lingered for a moment longer before gliding off to see to her patients while (Y/n) turned down the opposite end of the hallway and traveled down a few more to find herself standing outside of her old room. She opened the door, the space was clean as Shinobu promised. She closed the door softly behind her, blocking off the light from the hall. There would be time to be sentimental in the morning. Right now, between the Mountain, the trial and the emotional battle with the Insect Hashira herself, (Y/n) was exhausted. She scooted her way into the freshly made futon and fell asleep with the nostalgic smell of wisteria petals drifting through her airways.

***

(Y/n) awoke around mid-morning to the sun shining through her window. She stretched and got dressed, her fingers pausing over the last few buttons of her uniform as she glanced over the desk.

The butterfly hair clip she had once worn with pride sat in front of her. It appeared to be left untouched by time. Not even a speck of dust adorned the colorful wings. She reached out to it, but her fingers curled just before she touched it. She pulled her hand back as a knock sounded on the door.

“Yes?”

“It’s Aoi.” A voice called from the other side.

(Y/n) quickly took the last few steps needed to reach the door and slid it open to greet Aoi but before she could, the stern girl stepped inside and pulled the door shut again.

“Were you and Shinobu-sama fighting last night?” She asked hurriedly.

“Where did you hear that?” (Y/n) answered the question with one of her own.

“The Kakushi are partial to gossip. Now what did you do!” Aoi huffed, jabbing (Y/n)’s shoulder.

“Why does it have to be me? Shinobu was the one who started it!” (Y/n) backed up, rubbing her shoulder.

“You two better make up soon. It will hurt Naho, Sumi and Kiyo if they find out you’re still mad at each other,” Aoi crossed her arms over her chest.

“It’s not that easy, Aoi. It’s been four years. It’s not all going to go away overnight.”

“Do I have to do everything around here?” Aoi grumbled to herself, passing a hand over her face. “I’ll help you, but you better try to be civil.”

“Aoi, I don’t need help. I’m sorry that fight got back to you. If Shinobu and I talk again, I promise I’ll try harder to keep my temper in check, okay?”

Aoi sighed and shook her head, “Fine. That wasn’t what I had come to talk to you about anyway.”

“Oh,” (Y/n) tilted her head, “then what is it?”

“Your friends,” Aoi pinched the bridge of her nose, “they’re driving me crazy. I need you to get the blonde and the boar to participate in recovery training.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” (Y/n) answered with slight reluctance. She knew just how difficult those two could be.

Aoi and (Y/n) arrived at the room that was being used for the boys’ recovery training. Tanjirou was already working hard, trying to catch Kanao in a game of tag, while Zenitsu and Inosuke watched from the corner with bitter disinterest.

“Hey,” (Y/n) addressed the younger teens, “what’s the problem? Don’t you guys want to get better? Stronger?”

“It’s pointless.” Inosuke weakly answered.

“(Y/n)-san, this training is too difficult!” Zenitsu cried.

(Y/n) dodged the weepy blonde’s attempts at hugging her and bonked him on the head with the side of her fist.

“I feel no sympathy for you. Aoi and the others are working really hard to get you back in fighting shape, the least you could do is put a little bit of effort in!” (Y/n) crossed her arms, “before you know it, Tanjirou will leave you both in the dust. Do you really want that?”

Zenitsu and Inosuke grunted, still refusing to budge. (Y/n) motioned for Naho to hand her a cup of medicated water and promptly splashed its contents all over the boys.

“What was that for?” Zenitsu screeched.

“Want revenge? Come take me on.” (Y/n) motioned to the table of cups.

Naho, Sumi and Kiyo made small sounds of excitement, trying to encourage the boys, but they just grumbled and walked back to the infirmary.

“You guys are going to regret walking away!” (Y/n) called after them. “Let me know when you are done moping and want to get back to work!”

“Oh my.” Shinobu giggled as she walked in, watching Zenitsu and Inosuke sulk past her.

Shinobu turned to observe the room, pausing at (Y/n). Her eyes flickered down at (Y/n)’s chest and stayed there long enough for the other slayer to notice.

“What?” (Y/n) had grumbled mostly to herself as she followed Shinobu’s gaze downward. Heat shot to her face immediately as she realized she had forgotten to finish buttoning her uniform after Aoi distracted her. It wasn’t showing a lot, just her collar bones and a bit of her chest, but it was still jarring. With a strangled chirp, she quickly buttoned her uniform the rest of the way.

“Oh please, no need to cover up on my account.” Shinobu easily teased, though she felt a bit embarrassed to have been caught staring. She wasn’t entirely sure why her vision gravitated there to begin with.

After a few false starts, (Y/n) finally choked out, “what do you want?”

“I need Kanao and Aoi to help me gather more herbs for spider demon antidotes, not that it’s any of your business.”

“Kochou-sama,” Aoi interjected before (Y/n) could retaliate, “Kanao and I are helping Tanjirou complete his recovery training for the day. I’ve asked (Y/n)-san to fill in for us and she has readily agreed to take our place.”

(Y/n) gave Aoi a look, prompting the younger girl to pinch at (Y/n)’s side discreetly. A message to keep her mouth shut. Kanao simply blinked, twisting on the ball of her foot to dodge another one of Tanjirou’s lunges.

“Very well then, keep up (Y/n). I hope you still remember a thing or two about plants in that thick skull of yours,” Shinobu glided past (Y/n) to step out onto the engawa, “though I wouldn’t be too surprised if all of that knowledge fell out of your head along with your common sense.”

(Y/n) opened her mouth before shutting it firmly closed. Remembering that the younger girls were there and what Aoi had asked of her, she pursed her lips and silently fell into step beside the Hashira, walking with her to the nearby forest where the herbs they needed flourished.

“You recall what Aralia Cordata looks like, correct?” Shinobu asked once they were well within the trees.

“Yeah, kind of hard to miss that shrub if you know what you’re looking for.” (Y/n) groused.

“Fine, fine. Don’t come crying to me if you touch something poisonous.”

“I won’t. Won’t touch anything poisonous I mean. Because I know what I’m doing.”

“Are you telling me that or are you just trying to reassure yourself?”

(Y/n) chose not to reply, instead she split off from Shinobu to one of the shrubs in question and began harvesting a few leafy tendrils from it. Before long, her basket was filled and she turned just in time to see Shinobu turn back to her own bush, pretending to examine one of the tendrils she had cut.

“You know,” (Y/n) sighed as she stood back to her full height, “Aoi only made me come here in her stead because that fight we had last night got back to her. She expects us to make up.”

“Mm, I figured it was something like that,” Shinobu hummed, “I do believe that for once, she is too optimistic in that regard.”

“Well, you never did like admitting when you were wrong,” (Y/n) shrugged, “or saying you’re sorry. It’s comforting to know you haven’t completely destroyed your old personality.”

“And what exactly have I been wrong about, (Y/n)?” Shinobu’s forehead pulsed, “what exactly have I done that requires an apology?”

“You lie to everyone Shinobu. You hide behind plastic smiles pretending to be someone you’re not to fill a void. Saying your fine and shrugging everyone off while holding them at arm's length. When I tried to talk to you, you pushed me away and told me to leave. You were dismissive, cold.”

(Y/n) wrapped her arms around herself as if a chilling wind overcame her. Continuing on, she spoke lowly before Shinobu could speak her denial.

“Not to say that I don’t have my own fault in all of this. Even if I thought you really wanted me gone that night, I should have fought harder for you. I knew you were hurting, but I gave up and left anyway. That is something I’ve thought about a lot in our time apart and I regret it every day because you were worth fighting for.”

(Y/n) blew out a harsh breath of air, running a hand over her scalp she made her closing statement.

“If there was one thing you were right about last night, it’s that I’m a coward and I’m sorry that I didn’t try harder.”

(Y/n) chanced a look at Shinobu’s face. The Hashira’s eyes rounded and her mouth was ever so slightly agape. The silence hung in the air until a sweet wisteria breeze swept through the trees and (Y/n) cleared her throat and looked away.

“So if we could at least pretend to get along for the sake of the girls, I think Aoi would appreciate it.” (Y/n) added before reaching down to collect her basket. A sudden noise, like air being rapidly released through one’s nose, came from behind (Y/n) and she paused in her movements to glance back at Shinobu who was looking down at the leaf she was worrying between her fingers.

“I... apologize, for pushing you away in such a way that made you think you had to exile yourself. It was also cruel of me to say you didn’t care about us when I knew that you thought of this place as your home. I was trying to hurt you back and that was wrong of me. I’m sorry.” Shinobu solemnly said.

Now it was (Y/n)’s turn to stare. Soon, Shinobu leveled a cocky smile and stood with her basket of leaves and a few other miscellaneous plants she gathered.

“Looks like you were wrong about my ability to apologize, hm?” She said.

“Shut up. Don’t ruin the moment.” (Y/n) smiled, reaching for her own basket.

The atmosphere surrounding the girls leaving the forest felt a lot more relaxed than it had upon entering.

***

Days turned into weeks and everything seemed so much better after. It was still awkward at times, but (Y/n) and Shinobu were finding their rhythm again. There was still a little hostility at times, but rather than avoid each other, they talked it out. It was almost frightening how in sync they were when they were working well together.

(Y/n) split her time between helping Shinobu with the slayers turned spiders and helping the younger girls train Tanjirou. She was elated by the boy’s progress as he finally managed to catch Kanao. She had noticed Zenitsu and Inosuke lurking nearby and gestured to the room. Now that they knew recovery training was possible and Tanjirou was leaving them in the dust, the rambunctious boys finally felt the need to catch up with their comrade’s progress.

Before long, the boys were well enough to continue the training on their own and (Y/n) found herself spending more and more time with Shinobu. They would spend hours talking or saying nothing at all, just enjoying each other’s company while they worked away on medicines and poisons.

It didn’t take long for (Y/n) to notice the difference. How Shinobu took up more than her fair share of space in (Y/n)’s thoughts. Even just catching sight of her across the garden was starting to make (Y/n)’s heart leap. On the occasion Shinobu would spot her she’d smile and wave, making (Y/n)’s heart stop all together before kicking into overdrive. The lingering touches and whispered words Shinobu would share with her as they worked in the lab certainly didn’t help either. Just when (Y/n) had thought they finally found their dynamic... Why was it changing again already?

(Y/n) was telling Naho, Sumi and Kiyo the story of how she met Tanjirou and Nezuko while she patted the demon’s head. Ever since Nezuko had woken up, the younger girls, though skittish at first, had grown to be fascinated and even enamored with her. As (Y/n) retold the tale, Nezuko humming happily at her side, Shinobu happened upon the group.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to cut this session short. Tanjirou and the others are ready to get back out on the road now. Something about joining Rengoku-san on his next mission.”

“How did I not here about this plan sooner?” (Y/n) frowned.

“That’s a question best suited for Tanjirou to answer I suppose.” Shinobu replied rather emotionlessly, concerning (Y/n).

So while everyone else was getting ready to leave, (Y/n) pulled Tanjirou aside and asked him what was going on.

“I didn’t tell you we were leaving because I hope you’ll stay and continue to rebuild the relationships you have here, (Y/n)-san. I appreciate everything you’ve done for Nezuko and I, and now I hope to return the favor.” Tanjirou smiled brightly.

“And how do you figure you’re doing that?” (Y/n) crossed her arms.

“Because the longer you get to stay here, the more time you get to spend with Shinobu-san! I can smell that you two want to be together more now than ever.”

“You and your nose I swear,” heat radiated off of (Y/n)’s cheeks, “I think you have intuition and that sense mixed up.”

Tanjirou merely laughed in response.

“So, you guys think you’ll really be okay without me? You’ll stay out of trouble?”

“Don’t worry, (Y/n)-san! We’ll see each other again soon!” Tanjirou beamed.

(Y/n) smiled in return and they rejoined the send off.

“Where did Shinobu-san go?” Tanjirou wondered.

(Y/n) looked around and sure enough, the Pillar was nowhere to be seen.

“She must have had something urgent to attend to,” she answered, making a note to search for her later.

(Y/n) stood out in the garden until the loud group disappeared into the trees and their shouts could no longer be heard over the rustling of the leaves. She took a moment to stare out into the clear blue sky before returning inside.

(Y/n) was going to go look for Shinobu, but she wanted to go to her room to change her uniform first since Zenitsu had snotted all over it in his tearful goodbye.

She opened the door and was surprised to find Shinobu already inside. Shinobu’s back was turned to her as she quickly ran a sleeve over her face. She cleared her throat before facing back with a weak smile.

“(Y/n), forget something?”

“Huh?” (Y/n) blinked, still trying to process why Shinobu might have just been tearing up in her room of all places.

“The others must be ready to leave now. You better pick up what you needed so they don't have to wait too long.”

“They already left, Shinobu.” (Y/n) explained. “I hadn’t planned on going with them.”

“Oh.” Shinobu turned to look outside the window of (Y/n)’s room, hoping the blood that buzzed in her cheeks hadn’t burned its way to her ears as well.

“Shinobu, is something wrong?” (Y/n) tested.

“I just feel a bit silly now I suppose.” Shinobu admitted, bringing a slight smile to (Y/n)’s face with her honesty. “I thought you were gone again.”

“Well, I wouldn’t leave without a proper goodbye, not again.” (Y/n) came up beside Shinobu, intending to give her hand a comforting squeeze when she felt something other than skin instead. Looking down she saw her old butterfly clip in Shinobu’s hand, a quick look at the empty spot at her desk confirmed it.

Shinobu noticed that (Y/n) had noticed and rose the hairclip up between them with a subdued exhale.

“You know, every morning I wonder if it will be the morning you feel comfortable enough to wear this again.” Shinobu said, twirling the insect in her fingers. “When I thought you were gone and I saw this still sitting on your desk, it brought me back to places I’d rather not think about.”

“I’m sorry,” (Y/n) rested her hand over the back of Shinobu’s haori, “I just haven’t felt... I don’t know, worthy of it? I didn’t intend to make you feel bad.”

A small puff of air left Shinobu’s nose at the words. “It isn’t a matter of worth, it’s about whether or not you feel like you belong here again. Whether or not you’re comfortable here.”

“Agree to disagree.” (Y/n) joked. “But if it makes you feel better, I’m glad I get to spend more time here. I’ve been happier in these last few weeks than in the last few years.”

“I’m glad.” Shinobu watched a couple of butterflies flutter against the window before turning back to the garden. “And if you insist on it being a matter of worth, you are more than worthy. It’s not even a question to me.”

“Thank you.” (Y/n) simpered. Her breathing hitched slightly when Shinobu reached up to run her fingers through a loose lock of (Y/n)’s hair.

“Would you let me do your hair?” Shinobu asked softly.

“I’d like that.” (Y/n) whispered.

Shinobu guided (Y/n) back to the desk and sat her down on the chair. She freed (Y/n)’s hair from its plain hair band and quietly ran a brush through her locks with such softness that (Y/n) felt like she might fall asleep. Shinobu gathered the hair in her hands and styled it as she wished, clipping it together with the butterfly hair clip. Shinobu checked over her work, her hands resting on (Y/n)’s shoulders.

“You look perfect.” (Y/n) shivered. She hadn’t expected Shinobu’s lips to be so close to her ear. Neither had she expected the lips to ghost over her cheek in a light kiss.

“I just remembered I have a meeting I need to attend. You’ll help the girls with the infirmary won’t you?”

(Y/n) had almost forgotten how to speak but managed to pull it together. “Of course! I’ll, um, see you when you get back?”

“Perhaps,” Shinobu removed her hands from (Y/n)’s shoulders, “I won’t be back until late though.”

“Okay.”

A shy hug (in slightly awkward positioning due to the gross state of the Kinoe’s uniform, courtesy of Zenitsu) and Shinobu parted ways with (Y/n). (Y/n) met up with the girls in the infirmary and was almost immediately met with a chorus of cheers from Naho, Kiyo and Sumi when they noticed her hair. Aoi and Kanao smiled at the sight as well. A full day of caring for the infirmary made (Y/n) excited to finally get into bed for the night.

She awoke with a scream caught in her throat. Old demons had visited her in her sleep. As she worked to calm her heart, she noticed the light of the full moon streaming through her window. With a few more deep breaths she sat up from her futon and wrapped her haori around her shoulders.

Quietly exiting her room, she padded through the halls until she found her way to the kitchen, a smile pulled at her lips when she found Shinobu already there boiling water.

“Rough night?” Shinobu asked. She was also in her bed wear, her hair hanging loose from its usual style.

“Yes,” (Y/n) moved to stand beside her, “it’s been awhile since the last one I had.”

“How did you deal with that when you were on the road?”

“I would buy little sacks of tea leaves as I went. On bad nights or whenever sleep eluded me I’d boil up some water and try a new blend. Yours was always the best though.”

“I was already going to make you a cup, no need for flattery.”

“No flattery here. Just the truth.” (Y/n) swore, making Shinobu’s smile just a tad fuller.

Shinobu finished preparing the cups and as (Y/n) took hers about ready to leave, the Hashira asked her to wait.

“It’s a full moon tonight. Want to watch the stars for a moment?” Shinobu asked.

“I’d love to.” (Y/n) nodded.

The pair walked outside along the engawa until they had a pleasant view of the full brightness of the moon. They sat along the engawa’s edge, letting their legs dangle as they sipped their tea in the drowning noise of cicada and cricket songs.

(Y/n) chanced a glance at Shinobu in her periphery and marveled at how the moonlight highlighted her skin to the point where she almost appeared to be glowing. The way it reflected off of her eyes was absolutely enchanting. (Y/n) forced her attention back on the sky. Though beautiful it seemed to pale in comparison to the girl next to her.

As her eyes traced over the larger craters of the moon, she thought back on an old saying she had read at one of the inns she had frequented. An old, battered collection of pages that she read through when sleep didn’t come. She had read that particular work quite a few times.

She wondered if perhaps Shinobu had read it too. Though more likely the girl had her face buried in medical texts than anything else. (Y/n) then wondered, if perhaps she could get away with saying it. A confession without consequence, but on the off change that Shinobu was knowledgeable on the old text it could damage the progress they had made in healing their relationship. Perhaps it would be better to just enjoy the moment. (Y/n) took another sip of tea.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

(Y/n) nearly choked on her tea, spluttering and coughing as she tried in vein to stop herself. Finally she managed to calm down only to notice how intently Shinobu was staring at her.

Had she meant that literally? Shinobu was looking at (Y/n) so expectantly, but it could easily just be because she had nearly blacked out from inhaling her tea!

“...It is.” (Y/n) finally answered hiding her face in her cup, looking at neither Shinobu nor the moon.

Another long silence filled by the chirps of insects enjoying the humid night air. (Y/n) had finished her tea and set her cup to her right, her free hand that had been resting between Shinobu and herself was soon covered by a cool and calloused touch.

(Y/n) shyly turned her head to meet the Pillar’s gaze and jumped a bit when her nose unexpectedly brushed against Shinobu’s.

“The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” Shinobu repeated barely above a whisper. She was not pulling away.

(Y/n) felt her throat dry and she wished she had just one more swallow of tea left. With a slight quiver in her lips, she responded. Doing her best to stay focused on the purple irises before her.

“Yes,” she answered with a slight nod, careful not to bump head with Shinobu, “it is.”

“(Y/n)?” Shinobu called to her, cupping her face gently with the hand that wasn’t already resting on top of (Y/n)’s.

“Y.. yes?”

“Would you kiss me if I asked?” Shinobu murmured, filling (Y/n)’s senses with a dizzying wisteria scent. The slayer didn’t even try to talk herself out of answering such a query as the thumb of Shinobu’s hand swiped the corner of her lips.

“Yes.” She replied, nearly breathless already and her pupils blown wide.

“(Y/n), please kiss me.”

It was all too easy to lean in when they were already sitting so closely. The hand Shinobu had been using to cup her cheek weaved through the hair at the back of (Y/n)’s head, pulling her closer yet as their lips met a bit clumsily in buzzing, mind numbing bliss. (Y/n)’s free hand, the one not currently being clutched in a near death grip over the wooden floor, found home at the back of Shinobu’s neck, lightly massaging the skin there.

They broke apart a few times but the breaths they took were quick and few. Eventually they rested against each other while their abused lungs burned with a hunger for oxygen.

“I have wanted to do that for longer than I’d like to admit.” Shinobu quietly confessed, twisting a lock of (Y/n)’s hair though her fingers.

“Even when we were fighting?” (Y/n) joked, rubbing the back of Shinobu’s neck with her thumb.

“Strangely enough, yes. There were times when I thought about doing it just to shut you up. Though I didn’t dare allow myself to entertain the thought for long.”

(Y/n) chuckled and leaned in to steal another kiss, much less heated then the last few and much quicker as a chorus of surprised gasps made them pull apart and turn around.

“They kissed! They’re kissing!” Sumi cheered while Aoi tried to quiet her and push her back into the mansion.

Sumi and Kiyo emerged from the doorway that Shinobu had left open when she and (Y/n) first came out into the moonlight and were immediately hounding them for confirmation.

“We missed it! Do it again!” Kiyo pleaded.

“It’s like a fairy tale!” Naho cheered.

“You three!” Aoi grumbled with embarrassment. “Kanao, help me out here!”

Kanao looked between Aoi, the rowdy girls, then her sister and senpai, before settling on a nice golf clap of congratulations. This made Aoi lightly smack herself in the face and completely give up on trying to rein in the younger children.

“My, what are you all doing up I wonder?” Shinobu smiled.

“We wanted to watch the moon too Shinobu-sama! Aoi-san even made tea!” Naho clapped.

“But it’s clear you’re, busy, with something and we should go back inside.” Aoi rushed.

“Nonsense, it’s a lovely night. These things are best experienced with those you care about, don’t you all agree?”

“Yes!” Three excited voices readily agreed before wiggling in between the older girls with light blankets and their tea.

Aoi grumbled a half hearted reminder to be careful with the tea before sitting down beside (Y/n) with her own cup. Kanao took a seat beside Shinobu, lightly kicking her feet over the engawa as she started up silently at the moon.

They stayed up for hours, naming constellations, spotting shooting stars, and listening for the occasional loud croak of a far off frog in the thick of the cicadas and crickets.

Dawn wasn’t too far off when Naho, Sumi and Kiyo fell asleep. (Y/n), Shinobu and Kanao each picked one up and returned them to their rooms. Aoi gathered the discarded cups and helped with the doors before bidding the older girls goodnight, Kanao trailing behind her.

“What a lively night. I’m afraid chores will suffer tomorrow.” Shinobu mused as she walked (Y/n) back to her room.

“We’ll figure it out.” (Y/n) said, shyly brushing her hand against Shinobu’s and smiling when Shinobu laced their fingers together.

Once at (Y/n)’s room Shinobu raised (Y/n)’s hand to her lips with a smirk, planting a kiss on battle worn knuckles.

“This is where I leave you. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Why does that feel too long?” (Y/n) laughed quietly.

“I’m not sure, you’d think after four years of bitter silence a couple of hours would be a walk in the park.” Shinobu chuckled in return.

“I guess we just have a lot of time to make up for, huh?”

“Mm, that is a plausible line of reasoning,” Shinobu hummed, a spark growing in her eyes, “might I trouble you for one more kiss before I retire to my room?”

“I was hoping you’d ask.”

(Y/n) hardly got the words out before Shinobu was on her. Four kisses later and they pulled away with matching grins.

“I’ll see you in my dreams.” Shinobu added one last peck before pulling away.

“As will I.”

***

Well into the next morning (Y/n) awoke energized and ready to fight the world. She changed into a fresh uniform and pinned her hair with care, straightening the butterfly pin before rushing out of her room to begin her day with the young woman who had gifted it to her.

#demon slayer x reader #demon slayer oneshots #shinobu kochou #shinobu kocho #shinobu x reader #shinobu kochou x reader #shinobu kocho x reader #kny oneshots #kny x reader

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thegreatestofheck · 4 years ago

Text

warm //Fred Weasley\\

warnings - mentions of death, angst and a lot of it, really like there is nothing here except angst and also Fred dies again. also, I didn’t edit this. synopsis - you and your husband survive the second wizarding war, but so do some of Voldemort’s old followers, and they are hell bent on revenge. pairings - muggle!reader x Fred Weasley a/n - so this is based on a dream I had a long while ago and I just needed to get off my chest. I hope y’all enjoy it. Also, sorry, I’m not british and it feels weird typing Mum and not being british so I just used Mom. I apologize. And yes, the first part of this was an actual dream that I had once and it absolutely broke me to pieces. So, here I am sharing it with you so that you can all cry too. You’re welcome.

~~~

You had spent many Christmases with the Weasleys, but this was your first Christmas celebrating as a Weasley.

You twisted the simple copper bands around your fingers, as you always did when you were nervous. Fred Weasley, your husband, reached out to take your hand without even looking at your fidgetiness. He knw you well enough to know when you were nervous.

“You already know everyone here,” he said in a low whisper. “There’s no need to be afraid.”

“I’m not scared of your family!” You told him quietly with a smile before placing your other hand gently over your stomach. “I’m just...nervous about telling them.”

Fred looked over at you as if suddenly remembering that you were expecting your first kid, who would be the second of Molly and Arthur’s grandkids, right after Victoire. He smiled at you and then smiled down at your hand.

“George and Angelina already know, what’s the difference from telling everyone else?”

“Well, let’s think,” you hummed sarcastically, tapping your free hand against your chin. “Oh, right, there’s like a million people in your family and I have a paralyzing fear of public speaking.”

Fred laughed and it sent your stomach rolling like it always did. Your dad had warned you about what would happen after your honeymoon period had ended, how the butterflies might go away, but it had been almost a year and every time Fred smiled, your entire body still burst with joy at the sight of it.

“We’ll just go in and figure it out from there, yeah?” He said, with a side smile and his never fading confidence. You squeezed his hand and smiled back.

“Yeah.”

You sucked in one last calming breath as Fred lifted his hand to knock on the wooden door. It was your final chance at peace before the world decsended into the chaos that was the Weasley-Potter-Granger-Johnson-Delacour-y/l/n family.

Arthur opened the door and barely had time to recognize that it was you and Fred before Molly let out a cry of joy and ran to greet you.

“My dear y/n!” Molly Weasley wrapped you in a tight hug. “How are you? How was Spain? Didn’t run into any trouble I hope?”

“Mom!” Ginny laughed, pulling her mother away from you. “Merlin’s Beard, let her breathe!”

“Hey, Gin,” you whispered as she pulled you in for a short squeeze.

“Hey, sis.”

Ginny escorted you to the dining room where the others were waiting eagerly to greet you. George and Angelina stood back, watching you and Fred with knowing smiles. Hermione let out a squeal of excitement at the sight of you, tossing Ron’s arm from around her shoulders so she could run to embrace you.

Throwing her arms around your neck almost threw you off balance, but Fred was right behind you to keep you steady.

“The house looks amazing,” you said Hermione pulled away. You looked up at the tall ceilings, the crooked paintings on the wall, the charmed knitting needles doing their own thing in a vacant chair. “Just like it always has been.”

Fred snaked an arm around your waist, but not before Hermione and Ginny pulled you away to chat.

“And who is this lovely lady?” Fred asked, walking over to a brunette standing beside Percy. The girl blushed and extended a hand.

“This is my friend, Aubrey,” Percy told, the same level of sobriety as always.

“Friend,” Ginny mouthed to you with air quotes. You laughed, just as easily as you always had.

“Are Bill and Fleur here yet?” You asked. “I haven’t had the chance to get my hands on that baby of theirs.”

“Not yet,” Angelina said as she walked over to join the group of girls. You could see the smirk on her face as she settled in beside you near the fireplace. “You’re going to have to forcibly take Victoire from Bill. He doesn’t like to let her go.”

“She’s gonna be a daddy’s girl I see,” you teased and the girl’s laughed.

“If Bill has anything to say about it,” Ginny added.

Fred and George fell quickly back into their usual antics, leaving you and Angelina to watch with amused smiles from the side.

“So,” you said quietly once the two of you were alone. “When is he asking?”

Angelina sighed.

“He refuses to tell me. Said something about waiting for the right moment.” You rolled your eyes. Fred had said the same thing. “Have you seen the ring?”

“Oh, definitely.”

“What does it look like?”

“I can’t tell you, Ang! It’s a surprise!”

Angelina nudged you gently with her elbow, but not too hard.

“Have you told your parents about...?” She nodded down to your stomach, sure to keep her voice low.

“Of course I did,” you said. “My mom is just excited that her little girl’s all grown up and my dad is hoping for another magical baby.”

“Right. How is your sister doing?”

“She’s good. Out there living her best magical life.” There was only the faintest trace of bitterness in your voice.

Both of your parents were muggles. Your sister ended up being a witch, but you, unfortunately, did not. Still, you and your family had always been exposed to magic, having been family friend’s with Angelina and the rest of the Johnson’s for almost your entire life. It was Angelina who introduced you to the twins when you were nine, Angelina who forced all three of you to hang out until the twins actually started to like you, Angelina who convinced Fred to ask you out, and so, naturally, it was Angelina (and George) who was that first to know about your baby.

“Have you picked out any names yet?” Angelina asked, leaning in even closer. Your eyes sparkled as you looked at her, the very subject making nearly burst with joy. You wanted to tell her, oh how you wanted to tell her, but you and Fred had promised to keep it a secret, even from Angelina and George.

“I can’t say just yet,” you replied. Angelina raised an eyebrow.

Not much later, Bill and Fleur arrived, baby Victoire in her daddy’s arms. You nearly jumped out of your seat with excitement. Bill took one look at your face and nearly hid Victoire behind his wife, who simply laughed. After another long round of greetings, Arthur finally called everyone to the table.

“Our family grows every year,” he said, his eyes beginning to swim with tears. “Each and every one of us has lived through the unimaginable.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, knowing that everyone around you had fought in a war that you didn’t even know was going on. Once again, Fred reached out to grab your hand under the table without even looking at you.

“I am so proud to get to call you my family,” Arthur said, choking up even more. Molly reached up a shaking hand and placed it over his. He looked down at her and she smiled. You pictured yourself there one day, surrounded by an enormous family, full of joy and happiness and memories despite all the pain the world would inevitably throw your way. You looked over at Fred and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“We have an announcement,” you said suddenly, smiling as you stood. Angelina immediately blossomed into a grin, while Fred turned white. You looked around at all the expectant faces watching you.

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. His lightning bolt scar had begun to fade in the last year and a half since the Dark Lord was defeated. His glasses were almost always broken, but Hermione had taught Ginny the spell to fix it.

Ron Weasley. No longer was he Harry’s best friend or the last of the Weasley boys. He had made a name for himself. Hunting down dark wizards to every corner of the world, the world was safer with him in it.

Hermione Granger, on her way to becoming the first, and youngest, female Minister of Magic. With all her studying and hard work and dedication, she never lost that childlike twinkle in her eye.

Ginny Weasley, chaser for the Holyhead Harpies. No one could beat her. With an iron grit and nerves of steel, no one could stare her down and make it out on the other side. Yet she was still the kindest person you knew.

Fleur Weasley, a kind and loving woman, despite all the pain she suffered.

Angelina Johnson, a wickedly talented witch and the best friend a girl could ask for.

Percy Weasley, a pain in the arse, but the constant voice of reason.

Bill Weasley, always find the best in every situation, even when things are the most dire.

George Weasley, who never had an end to all the jokes and smiles, even in the darkest of times.

Molly Weasley, who gave everything she had to her kids and kept on giving.

Arthur Weasley, who’s courage and loyalty to his family kept them all alive for this long.

Aubrey....well, you didn’t know her that well, but she had a kind smile and a wicked sense of fashion.

And Fred, your Freddie, who made you laugh even when you wanted to cry, who held your hair back as you violently vomited in the toilet, who would build forts with you in your tiny loft and remind you to water your plants and feed the cat, who was more than willing to give up his joke shop and travel the world with you if that was what you wanted. Your solid rock, your standing place, your hope when the world was nothing but bleak. Your everything.

You looked at each one of their faces and remembered how much you loved them and how grateful you were to have them in your life. And you couldn’t hold your secret in any longer.

“Fred and I are-”

The wall beside you exploded into a million pieces, sending you flying forward. You barely heard Fred scream your name over the sounds of the others shrieking and the ringing in your ears.

You hit the stone ground hard, the air squeezing painfully from your lungs. Your squeezed your eyes shut, praying for the high pitched squeal in your ears to fade. Once it had, all you were left with was screaming. Your eyes refused to open quickly. All you could do was blink. Dust and ash floated around your vision. Bursts of blue and green and red light flew across the room before you could even recognize it.

“Ang!” You heard a voice cry.

“Here!” Someone replied.

You stood as quickly as your trembling legs allowed you to, pulling yourself by the fireplace mantel. All around you, more spells were shot back and forth through the house. You pressed yourself as tightly against the wall as you could manage, hoping to not get hit by anything stray.

“Aubrey!” Percy shouted, grabbing hold of her wrist from between the legs of a fallen chair.

“Go!” Arthur shouted over the cackling of the intruders and the shattering of picture frames. “We’ll find you. Just go!”

With a hiss and a pop, Percy and Aubrey disappeared from your sight. You wished you could Apparate now. But you wouldn’t leave until you found Fred.

Taking in a deep breath as if diving under water, you ducked and rolled into the fireplace where you were hoping it would be a little more safe.

You searched through the chaos with your eyes, afraid to move from your spot, for any sign of your husband. Your heart soared as you thought you saw him, only to realize that it was George pulling Angelina into a tight hug before following in Percy’s footsteps.

You met Angelina’s gaze just before George Apparated them away, her eyes going wide and her lips just beginning to form the shape of your name. Your heart jumped into your throat.

“y/n!” You heard a familiar voice call.

“I’m here!” You weren’t sure how far your voice carried over the sound of mini explosions, or if it was even safe to give away your position at all, but anything was better right now than being alone.

Your heart pounded in your ears as you scanned the dining room for any sign of him, but the dust and the smoke was filling the room rather quickly and it was becoming difficult to see. You could hear someone screaming and for a moment you feared it was Victoire.

The screaming became too much and you covered your ears with your hands, only to discover that it had been you that was screaming, not anyone else. Your voice echoed through the fireplace.

Finally, through the haze Fred came barreling through. You let out a cry of joy, lurching forward at the sight of him, leaving the safety of your hiding place..

“Avada-”

You reached forward with all your might, seeing a smile on his face as he reached out to grab hold of your arm. As soon as his skin met yours, there was a shout from someone else, almost like a warning cry, and your stomach lurched, the familiar feeling of Apparating.

You squeezed your eyes tight, not wanting to watch the world spin out of control around you while you were taken to wherever it was the Fred wanted you to go. You thought of your trip to Spain, of the beautiful countryside where there was no one for miles. In the sleepless nights since you had returned and through the bouts of horrible morning sickness, that countryside was peaceful enough to calm you down.

So, when the spinning sensation stopped and you finally opened your eyes, you were surprised to find yourself standing on those same countryside. Fred quickly pulled his hand from yours as he landed. Before you could even question why he brought you both here, your stomach churned again, but this time, it wasn’t magic. Your baby heavily disagreed with your husband’s quick way of travelling.

After emptying your guts into the grass, you straightened and looked up at the blue sky.

“It’s still so beautiful here, Freddie,” you said, letting your eyes close as the gentle breeze blew through your hair. “But why bring us here? Why not somewhere-”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as you turned around to face him.

He lay on his back, arms out beside him as he stared up at the beautiful sky above him. Only, he wasn’t staring. His eyes weren’t seeing at all.

“Freddie?”

You walked over to him, your heart roaring to life, beating so wildly in your chest, you feared you might explode.

Dropping to the ground beside him, you fought back the water that was rapidly obscuring your vision.

“Freddie.” You reached out to take his hand, only to find him cold as stone. A horrified gasped came from your mouth. Nothing about Fred had ever been cold. He was light and life and everything warm under the sun. His soul burned like a thousand infernos, heating everything in his wake. His heart was a million suns beating in unison, to the same rhythm as yours. Nothing about Fred was ever cold.

Except, now his hands. Now the distant, glazed over look in his eyes. Now the ghost of his last smile etched onto his lips.

Leaning over him, you could have sworn you saw a flash of green reflected in those beautiful brown eyes of his and your mouth fell open in shock.

“Freddie!” You cried, suddenly realizing what exactly had happened. “Fred!”

You took his cold hand in yours, bringing it to your lips. You breathed against his knuckles, hoping to give him some of the warmth that you had left in you.

“Come on,” you whispered, letting his hand fall into your lap as you placed your own hands on his face. “Come on, breathe!”

Your lower jaw began to quiver as tears started to drip down your cheeks.

“You can’t leave me yet,” you whispered to him, curling your body over his. You tucked one arm under his neck, pulling him into your lap. His eyes still did not move and his ghostly smile never wavered. “Don’t leave us.”

But his body was still cold and growing colder with every passing second.

“Help.” Your voice broke, your words drowned out by your owns tears. “Somebody, please, help us.”

Even if you could get your voice above a whisper, there would be no one for miles. This was the place you had wanted to go, the place where you and Fred could be alone and safe from the wizards in the dark cloaks. You had brought the yourself here because Fred didn’t leave his house alive.

Leaning down and pressing your forehead to his chest, you let out a sob and then another one, your fingers curling around his Weasley jumper. The golden ‘G’ darkened from your tears until the entire thing was soaked through.

“I can’t do this alone,” you said, finally lifting your head to look at his face.

“You’re not alone,” whispered the wind. You gasped and sat up straighter, looking around for the voice. There was no one in sight. “I’m right here.”

“Freddie?” You asked, barely trusting the word that left your lips. The wind was silent. You looked back down at Fred, at Fred’s body, and tightened your jaw. You brushed away what remained of your tears.

“I’m getting us home,” you promised him, lifting your hand to shut his eyes. “Just you wait, I’m getting us home.”

~~~

You looked up at the Burrow. Once again, the windows were shattered, the door was broken to splinters, one wall had caved in. You could hear voices from inside, whispering, talking. A laugh rang out. Your heart soared in your chest.

It had been weeks since you saw them last, weeks that you had been carrying Fred’s body behind you. A kindly wizard you had met along the way froze him for you so he wouldn’t decay, which felt awfully morbid, but you were grateful. Your hair was a tangled mess, your face covered in dirt and sweat and sunburnt nearly beyond recognition.

But you had finally made it home.

You weren’t sure you would be able to drag Fred’s body the rest of the way up to the door, but you wouldn’t need to. Before you could take another step, Angelina stepped into view.

For a moment, she just stared at you and you simply stared back. Her eyes didn’t even move to the rolled up carpet where you had hidden Fred’s body behind you. She just stared. And then, as if a gate had suddenly been opened, she came hurtling toward you at full speed.

You let out a single laugh just before she collided with you, pulling you in for the tightest hug she could have given. You were crying again once you were in her arms.

“It’s okay,” she whispered against your hair. “You’re safe.”

Your legs gave out beneath you and she helped you to the ground. Everyone else inside had heard your cry and came filing out one by one until they were all standing around you. You were surprised to see even Charlie was there, the prodigal son returned home.

“Where’s-”

Ginny didn’t even need to finish your question. From the look on your face, they all knew.

“He-” You struggled to keep your words from shaking. Angelina squeezed your hand and helped you onto your feet. “I couldn’t leave him there.”

The words you spoke made Harry take a step backward, the first one to fully put things together. He looked at you and then he looked back at the rug you had been dragging and his face turned white as snow.

Angelina had to keep you upright, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other holding onto your arm.

“I tried,” you said, looking straight toward Molly, who still didn’t fully understand.

“Oh, god,” Ginny breathed and then let out a shuddered gasp as she finally puzzled things out. Harry took her hand and pulled her into a hug and, as soon as he did, she dissolved into tears. One by one, they each began to realize what had happened. You watched in horror as that family slowly began to fall apart. Molly shrieked, falling to her knees and Arthur following after her. Hermione immediately put her arms around Ron to stop him from walking toward the rug that held his brother. Bill stared in wide-eyed horror at his wife, who had turned her body so the baby in her arms wouldn’t be able to see the rug at your feet. Percy was still as stone.

And George, George stared at you and you stared back unable to see anything but your husband’s face.

“George, I’m-”

Before you could even try to apologize, he strode toward you and snatched you out of Angelina’s arms and into his, pulling you in for an even tighter hug. And like that, the two of you finally fell apart.

~~~

You couldn’t stand at his funeral. Your body was still so exhausted from the journey home and from trying to keep the baby inside you alive that your legs would simply no longer hold you upright.

You were glad they had you in a wheelchair. That way, they couldn’t see your knees shake.

Your eyes never dried the entire time. You thought you might have cried every last tear you had in your body the day you returned home, but you apparently had more inside of you.

Aside from your family (and Lee Jordan, who stood beside Angelina), there were so many people you did not recognize. An older woman with glasses and an emerald green dress. A rather large man with bushy hair and a long beard. A blond boy who stood off to the side, away from everyone else. Two boys, one shorter and one taller, holding hands as they both stifled tears.

You wondered how many lives Fred had touched, how many people he had made laugh, that you would never get the privilege of meeting.

Back at the Burrow later that day, you sat next to Molly and Arthur, each of you staring blankly at the floor. You twisted your rings around your fingers, but not out of worry. You slowly pulled them off before turning to Molly.

She looked at you, a stream of tears running from her eyes. With trembling hands, you handed the rings out to her.

“These belong to your family,” you said, chin shaking as you tried to fight back tears. Molly shook her head, eyes closing, but she was unable to say anything.

“Just because you are no longer married to our son, does not make you any less our daughter,” Arthur told you with the only hint of a smile that he could manage. You gasped in shuddered breaths and Molly reached out to pull you into a tight hug.

“I’m pregnant,” you sobbed as you clung to her jumper. She ran her fingernails over your back and you were pretty sure you could feel her smile.

“I know. Fred told me.”

You managed a laugh as you pulled away.

“If it’s a boy, we want to name him Gideon,” you said, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. Molly sucked in a shuddering breath. “Gideon Lee. And if it’s a girl, we want to name her Persephone, but, Percy, for short.”

Somewhere across the living room, Percy Weasley lifted his head. Aubrey was no where to be seen.

“You saved his life at the battle you fought,” you reminded him. Percy’s eyes swam with water. “He never forgot it. This is how we say thank you.”

Percy nodded his head slowly, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he dropped his head back into his hands.

~~~

You had a boy and a girl.

You weren’t prepared for twins, but it didn’t matter.

With so many of his kids moving out to start their own families, Molly prepared a room for you to stay with her and Arthur. Molly dotted on Gideon and Persephone, never wanting to put them down no matter how loudly they cried.

“My twins were the same,” she said, smiling at the memory. Her face never turned sad.

Some days you were perfectly fine. You could look at Persephone’s full head of bright orange hair and Gideon’s hazel eyes and see Fred and smile. And some days, you couldn’t even bare the thought of getting out of bed. But Molly and Arthur never left your side. Angelina and George were over all the time, to take care of you and the help with the kids. You couldn’t look at George for the first few weeks without breaking down completely. He understood.

Bill and Fleur brought Victoire to play with Gideon and Persephone and Bill even let you hold her sometimes. She really was going to grow up to be a daddy’s girl. The others never failed to visit either. Even Charlie would stop by occasionally as the two grew.

Your parents and even your wayward sister enjoyed spending time with them. You had never expected it, but the birth of your children had drawn you closer to your sister. After years of estrangement, the two of you were able to sit side by side and laugh together, as if not a day had gone by since you were ten and had no worries in the world.

You missed Fred’s warmth every single day of your life, but you found his joy in Persephone’s laughter and Gideon’s proficiency for setting things on fire. You remembered what the wind had told you that day, that you were not alone. You were never going to be alone again, and you were grateful for it.

You had spent many Christmases with the Weasleys and now you shared many Christmases as one of them.

~~~

In this life, you had lost Fred after the war. In your life before, you had lost him during it. It was almost as if the universe and all it’s splinters had decided that you and Fred were not to be. You lost every game you played together, but you were willing to lose them all, so long as you got to bask for a few minutes in his light.

~~~

tagging - @inaworldofwonder (aka the only person who liked the post I made about this story three days ago) @x-lulu (i’m not sure if you’re into harry potter, if not, im sorry) @bricksatanakinswindow (because you like harry potter and I like harry potter and you like angst and I like angst so here we are)

none of you need to feel obligated to read this but it’s been in my head since 8th grade and i just needed to get it out. thank you. love you all.

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mssirey · 3 years ago

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fic writer review!

thank you for the tag @thebluewritingbench

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

Apparently 26 asdklfjhsd (i don’t know when that happened… i feel like last i checked it was 9)

2. What’s your total ao3 word count?

186,881 (wish i knew what it would be with all my tumblr pieces and unpublished work as well... EDIT: I briefly glanced through stuff i haven’t published and it is somewhere around 350k, so i don’t know what to do with that aksjdhfsd)

3. How many fandoms have you written for?

Uh… well, on AO3, there are 3 fandoms. I’ve technically written for 2 others, but that was before i participated in fandom, so, they aren’t available for people to read (and they’re like 15 years old)

4. Top 5 fics by kudos?

Oh, this one’s gonna hurt me… cause my faves don’t make the list askjdfhs

Coming in at number 1 is Duality, my first fic in the SuperCorp fandom and my very first attempt at smut. I think the progression of their dynamic was pretty solid and i still rather love the reveal I included, but the writing... well, let’s just acknowledge that i’ve grown.

2 is technically In Plain Sight, but that was a collab, so half (or more) of those kudos go to @stennnn06, so we’ll move on to Luck of the Draw, my crack fic about the SuperFriends playing Cards Against Humanity while in universe ‘Supergirl’ and ‘Lena Luthor’ are cards. (it’s also the only non-smut piece that made it onto this list, lolol)

3 is Listen Well, a praise kink piece written for the holiday exchange in 2017.

4 is Subconscious, a thoroughly horny piece involving Lena VRing Kara, done for the holiday exchange in 2019.

And 5 is A Taste of Sunshine, my vampire Lena piece, with blood drinking and Kara being an absolute snack (or tease). (the only piece on this list i wrote in this decade askdfjhsdf)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

I do! I’m a little behind on the current round, cause i haven’t been on AO3 in a bit, but i try to get around to them all eventually. I get thrown off when i get a lot of comments that amount to “I want more” and I feel like a machine... which is what the vast majority of my recent comments have been, RIP.

6. A fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending

That would be With No Silver Linings (Life is Only What We Make of It). It’s set in a bleak dystopian world and there is no escape, and it’s literally about Kara coming to terms with that.

7. Do you write crossovers?

I suppose I have (brought Adora to National City for… reasons), but usually, no.

8. Ever received hate on a fic?

Got told I dumbed Lena down in one of my fics and that completely killed my interest in writing it. But beyond that, no.

9. Do you write smut?

Well… yes. More than half my library is smut.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

11. Ever had a fic translated?

Yes. Someone asked to translate Duality.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yup! In Plain Sight!

13. All time fav ship?

I don’t really do that kind of favorite, but SuperCorp has had my heart for a while now.

14. WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Oh, hm, probably A New Dawn, my pseudo-vampiric fic. I really love the world/concept, but struggled with the lack of interest I got for it.

15. Writing strengths?

I think the ‘punch’? like the impact of a given moment... maybe?

16. Writing weaknesses?

Grammar and the character ‘voices’.

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

I would only ever do it with a fictional language or with someone to help me with accuracy.

18. First fandom you wrote for?

Twilight, but you’ll never find a word of it, sorry.

19. What’s your fav fic you’ve written so far?

So, it’s a three way tie for me. There’s Hope, which I think was some of my best writing. Boy from the Stars isn’t my strongest piece, but it’s very personal, and is the reason I have Zed. And then You Are My Dog, Aren’t You? which is like my love letter to kink.

I’ll tag @naralanis @mike-wachowski @shallow-seas-we-sail Sten @kendrene @drfitzmonster @missluthorwillseeyounow @kara-danvers-lena-luthor but only if y’all want, lolol! (and anyone else i’ve missed or who wants to!)

#me as a writer #tag game #long post

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linkeduniverse-incorrect · 4 years ago

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Where have I been?

Hey y’all, I know I took an unprompted hiatus again. Sorry about that. I suppose I just want to explain, since I feel as if I haven’t given this fandom the attention it deserves lately.

The world is crazy, and things in my life have just been changing. I’ve needed some time to get some things sorted out. And I’m still working on it, and I’m so sorry my presence isn’t as consistent as it used to be, but I still love this fandom and all of you so incredibly much.

This being said, things aren’t as bleak as they may seem! My dungeons & dragons livestream has been going amazing, and that’s where a lot of my energy has been spent lately so if you want to see more content from me I’d encourage you to check that out! I’ve also moved to a new place that I feel very comfortable in, and I’ve got some close friends by my side.

I guess I just wanted to post this to let people know I’m okay, and to update y’all on what’s been going on in my life. Hope to be more active in this fandom soon

#love y’all #ranger rambles #I know a post like this probably wasn’t necessary BUT I wanted to provide an explanation just in case #keep marching on my friends #we got this

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msindrad · 4 years ago

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an insanely long crazy-ass post about the dollars trilogy, I’m so sorry y’all

I FOUND THIS POST. I DID IT. I FOUND IT. JESUS. I spent the entirety of my yesterday searching for it.

I’m going to tag everybody who participated in this discussion and whose posts I‘ve found while searching for this discussion on the off-chance that they still might be interested in, yeah, discussing these films.

@clinteastwood-blog @geekboots-blog @istadris @sybilius @bleak-nomads @thenotsobad-thebad-andtheugly @bloncos @mcicioni-blog @unrealthings @stephantom @colonelmortimer

Also, please feel free to ignore me and my analytical outburst if you don’t feel like talking about the films or talking about them with my crazy hyperfixated ass specifically, lol. I didn’t mean to be rude by calling you out of nowhere, it’s just that sometimes people get excited when there is an enthusiastic newbie in the fandom and gladly return to their beloved canons.

Anyway. The dollars trilogy.

I’ll start with The Good, the Band and the Ugly (and will probably make myself instantly unlikable by nitpicking things, (sigh)).

As stupid as it might sound – the film being an absolute masterpiece, a cultural milestone that is timeless, epic, work of genius, love it, will write and draw about it with pleasure etc. – I’m kind of inclined to find the GBU the weakest film in the trilogy storywise. Don’t get me wrong: the plot is interesting and strong, every scene is entertaining, smart, and instantly quotable… But.

There are a few things that make the story, taken holistically, weak to a degree, especially in contrast to the other two films. Now, let me explain my bold-ass claim.

The first reason I couldn’t even pinpoint for myself until my best friend asked me: yeah, it’s all cool and fun, but what has really changed at the end of the film? They stopped the battle/blew up the bridge (kudos for the pacifist message), they killed a few folks on the way including Angel Eyes, but what did the story amount to in the end? Was their relationship changed? Have they themselves learned something about life, universe and everything? Tuco is still on the rope, Blondie still shoots the rope. They both got their money, split it 50/50. Sure, now it’s an insane amount of money but will it make them reconsider their ways of life? I don’t know, and I don’t necessarily think so. They’re really back to square one. If you consider the graphic novel The Man With No Name canon, then (spoiler) Blondie gives his money away to help rebuild the monastery of Tuco’s brother, and Tuco himself doesn’t really invest his share in anything other than booze, and sex, and troubles, so. Then, Angel Eyes got killed off, but he had even less backstory/character arc than, for instance, Captain Clinton, not to mention that his image, as memorable as it was, kind of lacked certain complexity, so, does it really matter storywise (although he is a great, stylish character, but I hope that you get what I mean)? (Note: Angel Eyes should have been the film’s ultimate personification of the war (inhumanely ruthless, only interested in money, extremely goal-oriented etc.), which, the war, kind of is the main antagonist of the film if you think about it; but the way he was used in the plot, the way he acted, and was generally presented, communicated it only in a limited way, imo).

Everything about the adventure was fun, smart, entertaining, one of the best films ever made, I agree 100%, and I rewatched it with pleasure many times. But I believe that stories have to bring about some palpable change in their world in order for them to be successful and finished. The GBU, in my opinion, doesn’t do it because it doesn’t want to be a story-story, and it’s fine with just letting its characters exist in a magic Western/a cowboy fantasy/a fairy tale. And I guess it’s also one of the reasons why the story didn’t go anywhere from the GBU – there is nothing to add to a basis like that. And I can’t help noting that it’s super ironic that the only film in the trilogy that truly seems to be all about money-money-money has no “dollars” in its title.

Another thing that I think is super important: there is almost no female energy or presence in the film. And it’s not even a matter of representation that bugs me, although I think it’s very important. It just feels like there is a deficit of something vital that renders everything even sort of unrealistic. In AFOD we have Marisol and we have Consuelo Baxter, and they’re relevant for the plot, and they have goals, motivations… lines. In FAFDM we have Mary, who has only a few brief moments, but she’s memorable, endearing, and she has a small story/motivation of her own, and we also have Mortimer’s sister, who is EXTREMELY important, and who also isn’t just symbolic, she herself makes a plot-relevant decision on screen, although a really horrible one from my personal moral standpoint. In the GBU we have what? A prostitute that’s beaten up by Angel Eyes (I never watch this scene), another woman at the hotel where Blondie stays in that is shut up and called an old hag or something like it, and another woman that makes a comment about Tuco’s hanging. None of them are memorable or have motivations on their own, and to me it makes the film lacking some really important counterpoint in terms of dynamics etc.

And nobody needs me to describe all the things that the film is awesome at because everybody knows that the film is one of the best films ever made, so painfully gorgeous that it’s difficult to praise it. So, I’ll move on to the other two films but will briefly talk about Tuco and Eli Wallach.

Eli Wallach is considered one of the best actors ever to appear on film for reason, so, I’ll just say about my personal impressions from his performance: he really made me emphasize with Tuco. His acting is incredibly rich, nuanced, concentrated, and, imo, just leaves you no choice but to think of Tuco as a real complex human being, not a film character. And Tuco is a superb character. Over the course of the story he gets to be loathsome, humane, funny, silly, terrifying, and cunning, - often all those at the same time. That’s one hell of a captivating character who’s just very, very interesting to watch and to analyze, regardless whether you like him or not.

Then, we have A Fistful of Dollars. I’m a huge fan of classic adventure stories that are gen, plot-driven, and have smart main characters figuring out a way to get what they want without being destroyed by other characters for wanting or trying to get it in the first place. I think it’s very difficult and very rewarding to write a good story in this genre. AFOD is exactly this kind of story, and this kind of stories is only as good as their protagonists’ maneuvers are. And Joe is, like, a tactical genius (the barrel! the fire!). And it’s much better to rewatch the film to remind yourself of how smart he is than have me talking about it, so.

But apart from that he is also humanized by his deeply personal motivations that appear completely irrational especially in contrast to his clever manipulations of the Baxters and the Rojos. And he doesn’t do it egotistically, to “get the girl,” which wouldn’t make him particularly sympathetic one way or another. Sure, he makes a good buck at the end, but his primary motivation still is justice for Marisol and her family (and then protection of his friend). Additionally, Joe gets his fair share of punishment for providing said justice, which further humanizes him and kind of makes you worry about him. And Silvanito with his scolding, humor, and skepticism helps with it a lot, too.

And then, there is the fact that the film wants the audience to either want to be Joe or want to be with him, sometimes both at the same time. Everybody on screen is a single Joe’s wink away from swooning because how he practically oozes charisma (only Silvanito is immune to his charms). I can’t blame them, though.

And I also want to point out the last lines of the film: Joe says that he doesn’t want to get involved into politics because that would be too much for him, and I think that it’s very fitting. The film just showed how cool he is, but he knows his limits, and he knows that he operates on a different plane.

So, all in all, it’s a masterfully done story.

Finally, we have For a Few Dollars more. I love all three films, but FAFDM is my favorite, there’s no doubt about that. I’ll start with the fact that it’s perfectly structured and perfectly balanced. We have three big players, Mortimer, Manco, and Indio, and the film shows how dangerous and how smart each of them is, so that the conflict between them ends up being very, very suspenseful. Not to mention the fact that it takes Manco and Mortimer almost 40 minutes, I think, to finally properly meet – by that time we are already speculating who will be the winner in the end, how will they react to each other, how will they interact, how will they work together etc. We get to know them quite well first, and then their relationship allows us to explore their characters even deeper through their interactions, their differences, and their similarities. For some time, storywise they become a single unit. While the story of Indio’s assault on Mortimer’s sister is revealed parallel to the plot.

Indio himself is terrifying as hell without being cartoonish. He is a really dangerous, broken man that is also methodical, smart, and ruthless. He is so bad that he kills the opponent’s family just to make him bitter enough to draw on him. And he is so bad that he is okay with killing off his own gang.

Speaking of which, Indio’s gang is colorful. He has interesting interactions with them at the beginning, in that church. And Klaus Kinski made his Wild stand out to me. I swear, the moment he almost cries in that saloon when Mortimer takes away his cigar, I feel bad for him every single time. And when he recognized Mortimer, it was tense. He even had a cool witty one-liner after Mortimer said that he should come to him in ten minutes to help him light that match and smoke: “In ten minutes, you’ll be smoking in hell!”

By the way, Indio’s tendency to get unnecessarily physical with his gang looks even more unnerving when he touches Manco to check his wound/shares a smoke him with some clearly visible eroticized subtext, which gets even creepier when you realize that he is a rapist. I swear, I was worried about Mortimer when I saw the film for the second time – that is even though I knew the plot – because Manco brought up that family resemblance between Mortimer and his sister, and we all know what Indio did to her.

What else? I could bring up all sorts of things, the action, the final duel, the small smart details that allow the plot to happen the way it happens (e.g. how Manco manages to hide the bag with all the money on that tree before Indio’s gang capture him and Mortimer – only to re-collect that bag at the end of the film), the humor, the street kids and all the other cool-cool secondary characters (Joseph Egger’s informer probably is my favorite), the opening sequence and the title card (oops, already rambled about this one) really, anything and everything including the perfect chemistry between Manco and Mortimer.

But I’ll just say that the music in this film is special to me. Every single composition by Ennio Morricone is special, unique, memorable, and intriguing, it’s true, and so it feels redundant and banal to say something like this. The Ecstasy of Gold is almost extraterrestrial, the main theme of Two Mules For Sister Sara imitates actual mule sounds, how genius is that, etc., and you must be dead to not be enticed and mesmerized beyond words by the main theme of the GBU, which is a hymn of all spaghetti Westerns now, a universal call for adventure (I feel like a bad person saying this, but I’ve always wanted to joke that Ennio put sexy back into the “waah-waah”… no, I regret nothing).

BUT. To me personally, the music in FAFDM is as personal as the film itself, and dare I say even more important to the story than in the GBU, despite the theme of the GBU being a kind of Greek choir throughout the film. The personalized sounds for Manco and Mortimer accentuate their personalities to the point where they almost create a reflex in you. The pocket watch chime is literally part of the story and plays a huge, crucial role in the plot! And it’s decidedly one of the saddest musical scores I’ve ever heard. It’s minimalist, mournful, and yet also nostalgically bittersweet. It feels like a reminder that there’s no going back whatever that might mean in the actuality. And the famous moment where Manco asks Mortimer whether his question was indiscreet and Mortimer says that the answer could be… I feel personally touched whenever I watch the scene. For me, it doesn’t feel like just an amazing scene, it triggers some deep emotion that is hard to express and almost gives me the urge to cry. Something along the lines of respectful and compassionate “I’m sorry that it happened to you,” “I’m sorry that I can’t help you.” The feeling of personal tragedy is conveyed infinitely better than a three-volume backstory ever could.

And then, there is this huge potential for all the stories about Manco, and Mortimer, and Blondie, and Tuco, and Angel Eyes, and even Joe to explore... Well, I better stop here.

So, yeah. It turned out to be a crazy long post, and I‘m grateful to anybody who reads it till the end. And if you haven’t watched these movies please do. Cheers.

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only-here-for-jatp · 4 years ago

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Build-a-Band pt 7 The End

Just me tying up loose ends

Featuring: WILLEX <3, the boys playing with their bears like they’re seven, Juke, hotdogs

As always you can read on Ao3 here

But also below! ~2300 words

The boys poofed back to the studio hearts as full as their arms full of stuffed bears.

Luke and Alex were both jittery with anxiety. Luke hadn’t seen Julie hug her bear, but he also hadn’t seen her not hug her bear and he was growing very concerned at the prospect of when or if she’d hear the lyrics he’d poured into the heart. He hadn’t meant to offer a confession, hadn’t meant to reveal his feelings so blatantly.

What if she didn’t like the song? What if she didn’t like him? What if she didn’t get it and he was stuck in this nightmare limbo waiting for her to realize as she kept hugging and hugging the bear that they lyrics were about her???

Yup he was a ball of anxiety, but at least he wasn’t alone.

Every now and again Alex would shift onto the balls of his feet and then back down. His mind zipping down very similar avenues to Luke. He’d impulsively made a bear for Willie but what if Willie thought it was dorky and lame? Was it weird for a not-dating person to give another a teddy bear? What if he heard the message and didn’t feel the same way?

I mean. Alex was pretty sure Willie liked him? But the more and more it went around in his head the less sure he was that he was interpreting Willie’s actions correctly. I mean they could just be friends?

Reggie quietly noted his friends’ anxiety and while he had no idea why it was happening; he knew a surefire way to cheer them up. Luckily, it was also one of the things he was best at, distraction.

He held up Sir Reginald II, a name he loved and adored since it meant Julie remembered his story about Sir Reginald I, and in his best teddy bear voice ( which mostly turned out to be a weird falsetto) said “Hello there!”

Both anxiety ridden boys eyed him warily and Reggie took this as permission to move Sir Reginald II verrrryyy close to Luke’s face. “Have you seen my friend Lukas? He’s late for band practice.” Luke’s eyes widened and glanced between Reggie and Sir Reginald II as Alex let out a snicker. “Wellllll? Have you seen him?”

Luke let out a sigh, knowing Reggie wasn’t going to let him out of this. He pulled Lukas up in front of his face and mimicking Reggie’s voice as best he could responded. “Sorry Reginald. I didn’t mean to run late.” At this point Alex was nearly doubled over with silent laughter. The sight of Reggie’s face all lit up though made Luke warm inside and suddenly he knew their next move. He raised an eyebrow at Alex who discovered too late what Luke was planning.

Luke bounded over, put Lukas right into Alex’s face and asked “Have you seen my friend Alexander? I’ve been looking all over for him.”

Alex slowly backed away “I’m not doing this.”

A quick exchange of glances brought Reggie on board with Luke’s plan and soon Reginald and Lukas were chasing Alex around the study asking and asking about Alexander their best friend. It wasn’t until Alex tripped, falling onto the bed where Alexander lay (tucked in no less) that he gave in. He pulled Alexander out and in the same falsetto his bandmates used called “Who disturbed my nap!”

The three boys grinned and thus they were off. They spent the rest of the day pretending with their new stuffies, reliving favorite moments of their life or pretending to play major stages around the world. They even took turns pretending to be Julie and reenacting some of their favorite moments with her.

In fact, the trio was having so much fun that Alex had forgotten about promising to meet Willie, who after waiting and growing concerned came looking for him. Willie stayed out of sight for as long as he could, watching the blonde-haired boy who he wanted to be around every second of every day laughed and joked with his brothers. Willie could feel the smile growing on his face at the sight of these three rock band boys kneeling on the ground miming arms and leg movements of stuffed bears while playing out scenes in funny voices.

However, his spying was up after Reginald and Lukas ganged up on Alexander (he’d long since figured out the names) in a hug pile and he burst into laughter.

All three boys heads whipped around suddenly very shy and sheepish at the thought that someone had been watching their antics over the last couple of hours. Alex turned nearly bright red, stammering out excuse after excuse for missing their plans and finding Willie here.

Willie turned to Alex with a soft smile. “Oh hotdog. You missed our plans AND y’all made bears for everyone except me and are having all this fun? My feelings are hurt.” He couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease Alex just a little. After all, he was incredibly adorable when flustered.

Luke and Reggie glanced at each other smiles growing wide as Alex grew even redder and began mumbling under his breath. In a move to both help and tease him, Luke and Reggie called out “Hey Alex, what is that you’re mumbling? Maybe you should say it louder.”

Willie tilted his head to the side in confusion as Alex took a deep breath and plucked up the courage to speak just a little louder. It was still barely audible, but Willie still caught it.

“I made you a bear”

Willie thought his heart was going to burst. He’d seen the bear-ified version of the band but as he glanced around the room he noticed a bear in a skater outfit off to the side. “You made me a bear?” Willie knew his voice was soft and he knew Alex liked him, but to include him in this little family of bears meant so much. He slowly moved toward the stuffie which had his signature tie dye and skateboard.

Alex began to ramble as Willie began a dedicated perusal of the bear. “I know it’s kind of lame, but I kept walking past it and it has two hearts sewn onto his chest and I don’t know something about its face reminded me of you and yeah it’s lame, you don’t have to keep it….”

Willie burst in. “No. I- I love it. Is it alright if he lives here though? I don’t want…”

“No, no, yeah totally.”

Willie’s head sprang up to look at Alex all of a sudden and a signature mischievous smirk filled his face. “Wait a second. You said there were two hearts sewn into the chest. Why would that remind you of me?”

Alex’s eyes widened as he shot looks to Reggie and Luke who had settled quite comfortably on the couch, bears in their laps to enjoy the show. They offered him an encouraging smile and a couple of nods. Alex gulped, took a deep breath and said as confidently as he could “It seemed kind of poetic. Since you.. uh… kind of… hold mine?” He hadn’t really managed for it to come out as a question, but he’d started to wince as if preparing for a negative reaction from Willie.

Instead, Willie wrapped himself around Alex in a fierce hug, never letting go of William. “You hold mine too Alex.”

Alex being too surprised, didn’t hug back right away, but with a squeaky “wait really??” he hugged on so tight that if either of them needed to breathe, they would probably be worrying about it. The two had started to jump around a little making happy noises while Reggie and Luke beamed.

The hug had barely broken apart when Julie joined them in the studio with a questioning look, but before anyone could say anything Alex burst out “I HAVE A BOYFRIEND!!” before shooting nervous glances at Willie “I mean, if you want.”

Willie chuckled, “Definitely”

Alex couldn’t stop smiling, but of course now was when he remembered “You should hug William. When I hugged Alexander I could hear the wish Reggie made for me and I uh, may have left you one too.”

Willie looked slightly confused, but sure enough when he squeezed William the Sk8 Bear tightly Alex’s voice whispered in his mind.

I wish for an eternity to hold your hand.

Willie seemed to melt a little, before he entwined his hands with Alex’s. “For eternity” he whispered just loud enough for Alex to hear. They both blushed, but everyone else mostly looked confused.

Luke was the first to speak up. “I also heard Reggie’s wish when I squeezed Lukas.”

Reggie looked entirely confused. “You could hear… my wishes? That’s awesome!!! But also, you couldn’t hear Julie’s?” Alex and Luke both shot a look at Reggie. “She made wishes on both your hearts also, but you didn’t hear hers?”

Julie’s face was growing slightly pale. She hadn’t realized they could hear those wishes. The thought of Luke hearing those lyrics was maybe making her panic a little, but maybe since he hadn’t heard them yet he wouldn’t. It helped her fear a little that there was some overwhelming curiosity about the wish Luke left for her.

Alex’s voice cut through her questioning. “You know, I only tried the one time.” Luke sounded an agreement before Reggie cut in.

“You know it’s kind of cool if you think about it, she ended up leaving a wish on all our bears. Maybe we should try together to hear it?” The boys nodded as Julie watched with concern.

Alex’s face changed first. A small gasp echoing out of him and his eyes pooling with tears as he rushed towards Julie to envelop her in a hug. She’d made him feel seen and valued and the reassurance that he had a special and unique existence to her was a security he hadn’t realized he needed.

Reggie hugged his bear two or three times just listening to the message she’d left him over and over again.

Sir Reginald II please take care of Reggie. Sometimes he doesn’t realize how important he is. He’s the glue that holds us all together and keeps us going when everything seems bleak. He is so loved and so valuable. Please remind him of that when everything seems hard.

Reggie glomped her next. Crying just a little at the words she left him which touched on his biggest and darkest insecurity. He could help but whisper his thanks and she pulled him tighter telling him that he was basically her brother. Reggie could no longer tell if he was laughing or sobbing everything was perfect.

Julie was having difficulty holding up the two emotional boys and she was filled with warmth at their love almost as much as she was filled with tension. She could barely see Luke which meant she couldn’t see his reaction.

Luke was having difficulty breathing and functioning. He didn’t need to breathe but now he couldn’t do it and he really felt like he needed to do it. He couldn’t-

He couldn’t believe it.

We say we're friends, we play pretend. You're more to me, we're everything Our voices rise and soar so high. We come to life when we're, In perfect harmony

She’d poured the same song, the same words, the same wish into his bear as he had into hers. Julie Molina loved him. He had absolute verifiable proof and he didn’t want to waste another second without her. Without her knowing that she was the most precious, wonderful, thing about his life. So he did the only reasonable thing he could.

He yanked his crying brothers off of the girl they also loved more than anything, but not as much as him and worked on gaining her attention. He smiled. She looked slightly terrified, but she didn’t have to be. She just need to hug Jules.

“Julie. Julie. Julie. Julie! You need to hug Jules. Right now. You need to hug her right now. RIGHT NOW.”

His boys looked pissed, but slowly they could tell by the rush and joyous mania radiating from their friend that this was Important and begrudgingly stood out of the way.

Julie looked at Luke with big eyes as he insistently shoved Jules at her. He seemed excited and thrilled and flushed and by god if he didn’t stop rushing her she was going to-

We say we're friends, we play pretend. You're more to me, we're everything Our voices rise and soar so high. We come to life when we're, In perfect harmony

The song filtered through her head as she hugged Jules and she felt her mouth drop as her eyes snapped to his. She watched his grin widen as he saw her figured it out. Her eyes met his and she was drowning. He was too far away and they both rushed into each other. They took another second to stare before wrapping each other in a tight hug.

Alex groaned a little, in a good-natured way, his hand once more linked with Willie’s. “Not that we’re not glad that you both finally got your lives together, but do either of you care to explain what exactly just happened?”

Slowly Luke and Julie moved out of hugging, but they still hovered around each other with their hands intertwined as they explained. They took turns explaining that somehow, someway, they’d left the same wish in each other’s bear. More than that, they were the same lyrics from the same love song they’d written without telling the other.

The shocked faces on all cause Luke and Julie to burst into laughter and soon all five of them were falling together into a hug. Julie carried one more surprise though in her back pocket. Slowly she pulled out three hotdog accessories for their new Build a Bears.

The boys looked at her with shock and horror as she grinned sheepishly at them.

“I couldn’t resist!”

They spent the afternoon playing with Jules, Lukas, Reginald, Alex and William. Then, when the time came for sleep, they couldn’t bear to leave each other so four ghosts, one human, and 5 teddy bear fell asleep in a pile of warmth and love.

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfic #Build a band

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animegenork · 4 years ago

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Fruits Basket Season 2 Episodes 21-25

So obviously life happened and I never finished out season 2 with my not-so-reflective analyses of the Fruits Basket episodes. Well, season 3 has officially started (and this is the one time in my life I waited for the sub before watching it) and it’s about damn time I did this.

Hold on to your pants--

Episode 21

I would like to make it very clear that Baby Yuki is Baby and most be protected at all costs. With that in mind, let’s begin.

The episode starts with Yuki meeting Akito for the first time, back before he became a mess and way before he ever met Tohru. There is already an internal conflict here with what he wants versus what the zodiac spirit wants, and that is to see Akito. Due to the “God” role Akito plays, Yuki wants to see Akito... but Yuki himself knows deep down that he does not.

We see Yuki spending more and more time with Akito, which makes sense, since we’ve known for a while that they were “friends” of the childhood sort. Perhaps new information is Shigure comforting Akito whenever he was upset, but that’s not important to the storyline at hand. Everything was all fine and dandy until, Yuki notes, Akito became twisted.

This is where it starts to get bad for Yuki.

Sometime during the latest tantrum, Akito begins turning his inward self-hatred to Yuki, telling him that the Rat is hated and no one wants him. Of course, we’ve seen similar poison towards Kyo, and frankly, I’ve always loved this juxtaposition toward them. Kyo and Yuki’s zodiac spirits are hated in similar ways, and while they hate each other superficially because of this, they also hate themselves more than anyone else. Both of them have remained on the “fringes” of things for most of their entire lives, which is probably why we get to see more of them than really any other zodiac member.

Naturally, this causes young Yuki to seek Kyo out when he hears about someone else who’s on the outside looking in. They meet, and Yuki’s all gung ho to try to make a friend. Unfortunately, Kyo has seen his own shit and is convinced Yuki is to blame for his suffering. So he tells Yuki he should just disappear from this world.

[A moment to cry over Baby Yuki’s expression. *sob*]

As most children do when faced with something awful like that, Yuki goes to his mother for comfort. Instead, she slaps him. (I just really hate her.) This leads into a scene of Akito spouting his usual poison at Yuki, brainwashing him into thinking everything is hopeless and bleak and that he’d be better off not going outside (to paraphrase). It doesn’t help that when he reaches out to his brother, or to anyone else really, he’s rejected. So, really, it’s no wonder he became such a mess, when the whole world has been working against him from the beginning.

Following this, we get to see Yuki going to school and attempting normalcy, even making some friends. Of course, we all know how that turns out, because Yuki has told us before: his friends’ memories were erased when his curse was revealed. Props to Hatori, I guess, for not succumbing to Baby Yuki’s cuteness when he begged the older boy not to do it.

Yuki reveals, in another interaction with Kyo in which our resident cat boy refuses to take back his hat because Yuki touched it (while I can’t blame him, I’ll always be a little mad at Kyo), that he really just wanted a home. A place where he was happy. Even Kyo had friends and a foster father, despite any verbal abuse launched his way.

When he falls ill, Akito tells Yuki more about Kyo, heartbroken over the loss of his mother and swearing that he’ll kill the Rat and make amends. If possible, Yuki falls into a greater despair and decides to run away, donning the hat that once belonged to Kyo. In a way, this is where we see Yuki’s selfless side, which has always been there--he ran away in order to alleviate some of Kyo’s sadness, which he believes he caused.

GIVE. THIS BOY. A HUG.

So he runs and runs until he finds a woman talking to the police. Her daughter is lost. Now, obviously this is Kyoko--who else could it be--but Yuki doesn’t know that. However, he had seen a little girl crying somewhere and went to find her again. The girl, our lovely Tohru, follows him when he tries to go find Kyoko again to tell her, so he begins to lead her home. When they get there, before they can meet or hug or anything that would put her in danger, he gives her the hat and runs away.

Thus endeth the story of Tohru’s “prince.”

In some ways, this one event helped alleviate some of Yuki’s pain. He was useless and needed. He’d helped someone feel better. That can be the best feeling in the world for someone like Yuki.

Now, the funniest part about all this is Yuki was caught up in a memory. He’s not telling Kakeru any of this. Kakeru himself is a little weird, so he’s not terribly surprised. Yuki finally explains that he met Tohru once and didn’t realize that he had until sometime after they met again. Through her influence, Yuki decided to perservere, as he says, and keep trying to live for himself. Unfortunately, Akito’s influence is strong as well. He became twisted once more.

Poor Yuki. All this time, he wanted that stupid Cat to be his friend. That is one of the most interesting revelations, I think, that we ever see in Fruits Basket. I don’t think we ever find out if Kyo feels similarly, but the fact that Yuki, the one always insulting Kyo, just wanted to be friends is him, is somehow mind-blowing.

Then in comes Tohru again. She was there for him, time and time again. “She accepted me time and time again.” And really, that was all he ever wanted. To be accepted. To have someone care and give a shit. “Like how the sky feels so close, yet so far.”

“Like a mother.”

So, yes, folks, that’s the truth of it: Yuki sees Tohru as the mother he never had. I feel like for some this isn’t the type of truth you ever wanted to see, but here’s the important part to remember: for Yuki, romance wasn’t entirely important. He needed a parent. Someone to care for him. And Tohru gave him that time and time again. Perhaps, at one point, his feelings skewed toward the romantic, but over time, he realized that Tohru wasn’t that for him. She was something he needed much more.

Kyo has his father. Yuki has his Tohru.

And that’s all I’m going to say on that. Because the rest is a matter of what you think.

Episode 22

Y’all forgive me it’s so hard to find gifs months after the episodes air a;lsjdkf;ajsdfas this gif is NOT mine

Hi, I love Kyo.

Anyway.

We pick up right where we left off with the series-changing revelation that Yuki considers Tohru to be his mother. Kakeru is the voice of “lol what do you mean she’s our age”. Yuki explains that he’d always yearned for a parent’s love (haha it’s like I knew that) and valued Tohru’s care so much that it just seemed natural to consider her that way. His inner monologue realizes that’s what Rin was looking for, too.

And like I said before, it takes him a while to realize this is the particular feeling he had prescribed to Tohru. It started when she went after Kyo, the night we see his true form. Of course, as with all the zodiac members, he probably hadn’t been able to put voice to the feeling just yet. It happens. But he even admits that he tried to be romantic with her, but eventually, it just felt too wrong to do. I get it, since I have a friend I consider my father, and when people told us we looked like a couple, we were grossed out beyond belief. So yeah. Makes sense.

Kakeru goes, “Well people look for romance with people like their mom all the time.” First of all, Kakeru, Tohru is nothing like Yuki’s mother. Okay. Second of all, Yuki clarifies that he doesn’t see her as a woman. But Kyo does. The Cat always knew how he felt about her. And you can see the same feeling radiating from Tohru.

*sobs* Okay. Sorry.

Yuki resolves to live on, spurred on by Tohru’s encouragement and love. Kakeru responds by throwing a soccer ball at his face.

I’ve mentioned before I love their relationship, right?

Shenanigans ensue, and Yuki says he might be able to tell Tohru precisely what he told Kakeru, but not right now.

BACK TO THE PLAY! Tohru is attempting to memorize her lines, and Shigure finds out Kyo is the Prince. This angers Kyo, naturally, because no way in hell does he want that Dog to embarrass him. He confiscates Tohru’s script (I cackled at this part) and tells her not to tell Shisho (but she obviously did already). Basically, we get some unintentional flirting between these two until Yuki cuts in using the classic Fruits Basket slapstick.

Yuki tells Kyo that Tohru has the hat in a moment of just sheer understanding passing between them, and Kyo goes to his room to sulk. Cuz Kyo.

A lot of what happens next is pretty self-explanatory: Ayame is Ayame, Yuki is the resigned brother, Tohru can’t play an evil stepsister to save her life, yada yada. The class eventually decides to rewrite the play because obviously a non-evil stepsister ain’t gonna work. Kyo is nowhere to be found. Tohru offers to find him, but Yuki takes over.

Ah, yes. The classic.

Here we see a classic rival clash, but it’s not physical. It’s verbal. Yuki’s very good at putting on a certain face in front of Kyo, but it’s always when Kyo needs it most. Kyo yells that Yuki has his parents. He’s loved and praised. What it all boils down to is that Kyo doesn’t think he’s worthy of being a prince. That’s always been Yuki’s crown to wear. It’s a case of the simplest thing triggering a much deeper emotion. Kyo claims Yuki doesn’t understand, but we all know that’s not the case at all. Yuki understands all too well. So Yuki asks if he really wants to achieve this impossible thing (defeating the Rat), if he really wants to not have anyone to hate.

Kyo punches a window.

We have a brief scene of Machi coming by and saying something about Yuki not being a prince. While the other classmate with her is appalled, Yuki is just stunned. Because that’s probably exactly what he’s wanted to hear all these years. (Go Machi!)

Returning to the classroom, Kyo finds the ever-cheerful Tohru with the revised Cinderella. As she babbles about how he’ll probably be able to do the play better this time around, he reflects on Yuki finding him sulking. Tohru notices his injured hand, and he just leans on her. He’s very good at this, I’ve noticed. The leaning. Makes my heart pound every time. And clearly, it worked on Tohru, too.

Kyo tells her she better not laugh at his performance, and they go home.

And scene.

Episode 23

To be frank, this episode doesn’t need much analysis. It’s mostly comedy and shenanigans and everything one could love about Fruits Basket.

Also, woof. Kyo with long hair.

We’ve got a narrator telling the classic Cinderella while the play goes in an entirely different direction. Cinderella Hanajima loves her Stepsister Tohru deeply but fears the prince taking her away. (Oh wait this is an allegory or something isn’t it.)

Flash forward to the ball, Prince Kyo wants nothing to do with all of this, and Buddy Uotani is telling him to get the hell up. Kyo doesn’t budge, refusing to dance with anyone, until, of course, Tohru approaches. He wigs out, because that’s what Kyo does, and tries to call her back. It’s almost like he forgets this is a play or something as he deflates from rejecting Tohru.

Cinderella arrives, she and Kyo clash, she leaves, wishing she’d eaten more meat. Naturally, a glass slipper is left behind. Kyo says he doesn’t really want to go find the girl, and Uotani begins the second most important scene of the episode.

With passionate urging, Uotani tells Kyo not to waste this chance to see her, saying that some people don’t get to see the people they want to. Then she screams, “COME SEE ME, DAMMIT” and we all know that’s aimed at Kureno.

We got to the classic glass slipper scene, and Hanajima enters and pulls quite the badass move. She asks Kyo if he plans on deceiving himself forever and keeping himself locked away. Most of the audience doesn’t really know that she’s referring to his feelings for Tohru and, to us the viewer, the way he’s going to willingly give up his freedom after high school ends.

Kyo: “So what if I do? Does that hurt anyone else?”

Tohru knows precisely what conversation is happening, and she starts to say that she doesn’t want to lose him. But, being Tohru, she’s not quite able to put it into words. But Kyo picks up on this, and he’s taken off guard. He’s an idiot, not picking up on her feelings for him in their entirety despite all the hints thrown his way. Even Momiji and Kisa know what’s going on here.

Awkwardness ensues, Yuki swoops in and tells Kyo to make his wish come true on his own in a classic “Broheim you better FUGGIN do it YOU HEAR ME” way.

The play ends, we see Shisho, Kyo tells him not to get married (because Hanajima is swooping in), and we find out Haru told him about the play. Obligatory reference to shirtless Kyo. Shisho picks up on Kyo’s conflicted feelings about Tohru while Kyo tells himself Tohru probably wasn’t trying to say what he thought she was.

Shenanigans ensue again, this time with Haru and Hiro, which is pretty funny, and then we check in on Yuki and Kakeru, who see Machi getting bullied. Petty girls being petty about a girl who’s not petty. How petty. Machi makes it clear that she thinks Yuki’s an airhead (which hits him like a brick LOLLLL) and then she says he seems lonely. That gives him pause, because she picked up on the one thing no one else at the school (besides other Sohmas and Tohru) have picked up on. She’s amazing like that.

BACK TO KYO I LOVE HIM. He meets up with Tohru and they start walking together. At the exact same time, they tell themselves that it couldn’t be, the other doesn’t have feelings for them. “I won’t let myself think it.”

And they break their own hearts in the process.

Pardon me, I have to sob again.

Episode 24

Once again, the gif is not mine. Apologies, y’all, I’m bad at this.

MACHI TIME!

The student council is going out to party--er, not really party, but just have lunch, I guess. Machi doesn’t really want to come, and Yuki tries to get her opinion on things so they can make everything more amenable. She tells him he doesn’t need to make such a fuss, that her opinions aren’t his concern. He says she’s right, and that he just wants to see the world through her eyes.

Does he REALIZE when he does that??? Probably not.

Anyway, everyone goes home, Yuki and Kakeru are THEM at its finest, and Machi goes home. Her mother calls, and we see a little bit of her past, where her mother pressured her to be better than Kakeru at everything. This suppressed her personality to a point of what her mother calls dullness. And Machi agrees. She knows she’s dull, that she struggled to make people happy, only to be abandoned and left an empty shell.

She then reflects on how Yuki’s changed. Even when he smiled before, it seemed lonely, not genuine. But now he’s changing to smile for real. While he’s changed, she’s remained stagnant.

Machi ends up going to the student council gathering, reflecting on how she’s not sure if she means something to the world. She’s stopped in her tracks by Yuki calling out to her, saying he’s glad she came. And she drops everything.

What happens next is typical rom com. Yuki notices she kept the maple leaf and says he’s happy, Machi yells that there wasn’t any special reason behind her keeping it. Understandably, Yuki is confused. Kakeru makes her embarrassment worse by popping in, but it’s a cute moment, because Yuki finally gets the answer to the question, “What’s your favorite color?” Because of course he remembered.

We cut over to Tohru, who’s staying with Shisho for New Year’s so she’s not lonely. Good call on the part of the Sohmas. Yuki and Shigure really just didn’t want to leave Kyo alone with Tohru, which is funny in itself since Kyo is a harmless kitty, but alas.

But they’re not alone with Shisho; Rin’s there! And Tohru goes in for a hug only to splat against the wall. Poor thing. We find out Rin and Kyo don’t exactly like each other, but they don’t dislike each other either. Very confusing, but I don’t question it.

We cut over to the banquet and a riveting shot of Hatori (fanservice for Hatori’s fanclub hehehehe) and we get some Ayame and Shigure shenanigans. I love them dearly, ridiculous as they are. We see Akito try to do the thing with Yuki again, saying he forgives him for his transgressions, and Yuki just says that he forgives Akito as well. He’s tired of blaming others, sick of it. He needs to move so he can change.

Akito sees something in his eyes, and she has a flashback to something involving Kureno. So he attacks, demanding Yuki apologize. The rest of the zodiac is stunned and confused. Ayame mobilizes to get Yuki some medical attention, and Hatori helps him out. Yuki takes a moment to apologize for blaming Hatori all those years for what happened when he was a kid. We see that Hatori felt indebted to Yuki for that as well and had resolved to keep an eye on him. They have a brotherly moment.

We see Tohru resolve to wish for the curse to be broken this year, and Momiji gives Kureno the DVD of the play where Uotani yells for him to see her. Haru goes to see Rin, who’s fallen asleep. Overall, Tohru says, she wishes for change.

Dun dun dun.

Episode 25

The plot thickens.

So we start off with Kureno and Akito, where Akito feels kinda sick after the episode with Yuki (episode as in incident, not---anyway). Kureno promises to stay by his side, and we immediately cut to Uo still missing him, but not saying so in so many words.

Tohru reflects on what happened during New Year’s, including Yuki coming back with a bandage on his forehead. He explains that he stood up to Akito, and he asks her if she thinks he did a good job. Now he’s just milking the mom thing, but she doesn’t seem to notice as she says yes.

Back to the present, we see that Shigure and Akito are fighting. He says something snarky about how Akito’s the one who’s always with Kureno, and Hatori treats this like it’s a childish argument. It is. Because Shigure’s a bit of a child. But it’s a bit deeper than that. They discuss how Kureno feels different than the rest of the zodiac, but they don’t say exactly what it is. That’s for later.

Kureno watches the DVD of the play, and he struggles with his feelings for Uo and his loyalty to Akito. He calls Shigure’s house and gets Shigure, and then we see Tohru come home and go right back out for an errand. She ends up at a park and sees some sparrows (AH YES, THE SYMBOLISM), and Kureno walks over to her, causing the sparrows to fly away.

What’s important here is to remember that members of the zodiac attract the animal they have the spirit of. We see it most often with Kyo and the cats. So why is Kureno chasing away the sparrows, the bird he turned into? Even Tohru is confused, until he hugs her and nothing happens.

That is to say, his curse is broken.

Kureno explains that he’s not sure how it happened--which disappoints Tohru, considering her quest to break the curse--only that it did. Now he’s resolved to stay by Akito’s side, meaning he can’t see Uotani anymore. He tries, unsuccessfully, to make himself feel better by saying that he doesn’t need to see her--their meetings were flukes. Then Tohru puts her hand on his face, and he admits that he fell in love with Uo.

And thus, we reach the crux of Kureno’s conflict: he’s free to do whatever he wants now, but because of that, he needs to stay by Akito’s side. And really, it’s because he can’t stand to see that child cry again over an ancient bond. He needs to be there for Akito, so that he can always be there and never abandon “that sorrowful girl.”

Tohru is shocked, and yet something seems to fall into place when she realizes Akito is a girl.

And that’s where the season ends.

~ ~ ~

That was a long boy, so sorry about that, folks! Now I’m off to finally watch the first episode of the new season! See y’all next time!

#fruits basket #furuba #fruits basket season 2 #excellent i actually did this at some point #now to actually watch episode 1 of season 3 #y'all i'm so sorry i bet no one actually cares about these a;lsdjkf;alsdjkfads

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hillnerd · 5 years ago

Text

Waking Up - Chapter 3

Rating M A03 ff.net [previous chapter] [start at the beginning] chapter length: 14,438 Huge thanks to @abradystrix @amysthefardareismai for wonderful beta-ing- truly y’all are the best. And thank you to the people who have read this, and especially those who reviewed- I appreciate you so very much.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: NSFW scene, cursing, depresssed/anxious thinking, talk about eating & weight gain/loss, PTSD, brief mentions of substance abuse

CHAPTER 3- logistics

A breeze was gently rustling the trees and the dappled midmorning light shone merrily through the bedroom window. Hermione inwardly cursed. There was something appalling about a lovely day when her mood was bleak and her whole body felt stiff. Hermione rubbed at her neck and cringed as a beam of sunlight hit her right in the eye.

She’d put off planning to retrieve her parents for three weeks, but she couldn’t in good conscience keep it up. She had to accomplish something, even if it was only a tiny milestone. She’d set herself up in her camp bed, a number of papers around her as she scribbled maths and tried to mark out a plan.

Portkey. Taxi. Hotel. Food. Yellow pages. Government records. Private investigator.

Before the hunt for Horcruxes she’d envisioned immediately flying to her parents and undoing the memory modifications she’d placed on them. The three of them would fall into a heap crying over each other and all would be well.

Now she could no longer fool herself into believing such idealistic outcomes. The reality was too grim.

She’d purposefully made it difficult for anyone magical to find her parents, but now she had no clue where in Australia they’d gone or how she’d retrieve them. At the time she didn’t want to know their location; what she didn’t know couldn’t be tortured out of her, but this left the task of hunting them down as daunting as the Horcrux hunt. She’d made her parents untraceable by owl, ‘Point Me’ and a variety of other locating spells and potions.

She’d need to use Muggle means: searching travel documents and yellow pages for dentist offices, possibly making inquiries with the government to find them. She might need to use a private eye. None of that would be easy to access, especially all the way in Australia.

What’s more - it would cost money; money that Hermione did not have. Her parents had loads of money put aside for her education, but all of it was in her parents’ name — so it was all somewhere in Australia with them.

She only had fifty pounds and a pile of books to her name, not enough to buy proper groceries for the Weasley family, let alone fly herself across the world to search for her parents. Portkey fare, hotel, food… It was all going to cost so much. How would she possibly manage this? Get a job to save up the money to travel there? Who would hire someone who didn’t even have N.E.W.T.s, or a diploma (Muggle or otherwise.) She could forge a Muggle one, but it felt wrong somehow to pretend she had an education she hadn’t earned. Perhaps she could camp instead of stay in a hotel? The thought of camping again made her hands begin to shake. No. She’d have to save for a hotel.

The only equity she had was their family home. There was no way she could liquidate that asset and turn it into cash. She could perhaps rent the house out, now that the war was over— but that would waste precious time to try to find a trustworthy tenant. And who would want a suburban house for only a few weeks? The more she thought on it, the more outlandish her ideas became:

Sell all the things she owned? Ask Harry for a loan? Sell her story to the Prophet for money?

Her mind trickled like treacle. All her pointed motivation and smarts she’d had in spades before the war felt scooped clean out of her, as sure as Ron’s splinched shoulder. She’d become blightedly useless.

Others were working to re-establish the government, or rebuild Hogwarts, or volunteering to help orphans. Ron was stepping in to take care of his mother and the household. Everyone else was able to find a way to be of use, with perhaps the exception of George — but he had a real excuse didn’t he? He was in deep mourning.

What was Hermione mourning? Sure, she’d lost friends and people she cared about, but that wasn’t the same. She had no excuse to be so tired all the time, her brain so sluggish and unresponsive. Even with the locket around her neck she’d been brighter than this, had more fight and more solutions than this. Her presence at the Burrow was so pointless.

She only had a few months to find her parents, and was wasting what time she had left.

McGonagall, now headmistress of Hogwarts, had written to say she and the boys were welcome to finish their final year there. For a moment she had been pleased. She’d be able to have a full and proper education after all! She had something she could work on! But it wasn’t for months, and now it narrowed her timeline.

She had a proverbial ticking clock, and what was she doing? She was contributing nothing, comforting no one, napping multiple times a day, leeching off the Weasleys, burdening them with her despondent moods; all when she should already be in Australia fixing the problems she’d caused!

In disgust, she shoved the papers to the ground, put a silencing spell on herself and laid down to nap. She’d almost nodded off when she was awoken with a knock and the sound of someone saying her name.

She gave a start to see Harry standing in the doorway looking at her expectantly.

“Sorry,” he said with a forced smile. “I knocked, but you didn’t respond.”

Hermione moved her lips to answer him but no sound came out. Damn, she’d forgotten about her silencing charms. With a wave of her wand the spell was broken.

“I’m fine, thank you. Is breakfast ready?”

Harry narrowed his eyes at her and carefully sat himself on Ginny’s bed. He was looking pink-cheeked and his hair was even more of a mess than usual, no doubt Ginny’s doing. The carefree appearance was a stark contrast to the look of concern on his face.

“Why did you have a silencing spell on yourself?”

“It’s nothing, Harry,” she primly answered, leaning down to gather the parchment from the ground. She tapped the sides of the parchment against her thigh to evenly align them. The last thing she wanted was him seeing how disparate her notes were.

Harry continued to stare at her, discernment wrinkling his brow. “Does Ron know about this?”

“About what?” she snapped, holding the papers close to her chest.

“That you’re putting silencing spells on yourself when you sleep.”

“It’s only temporary.” She stopped her tidying. “No one else needs to know about it.”

Harry made a face at that and his gaze became even more grim.

“You shouldn’t keep this from him. He’ll find out eventually.” She gave a deep huff at his presumption. “Why are you doing it anyways?”

“It’s not that hard to figure out,” Hermione bit out, putting her papers on the bedside table and making her bed, spending far more time than necessary giving it hospital corners so she wouldn’t have to look him in the eye.

“So are you… yelling from nightmares or something?”

Hermione looked at her hands spread across the corner of the bed. “Yes, something like that…”

“Have you tried dreamless sleep potion?”

“You can get addicted to it far too easily.”

“Yeah, well… it works doesn’t it?”

Hermione turned to look Harry over. He didn’t have the deep bags under his eyes that she or Ron had, and was refusing to look her in the eye.

“You’re not taking it every night are you? You’re not supposed to take it for more than three days in a row!” she admonished. “After three days you’re supposed to stop taking it or there’s a rebound effect and your dreams could become even more vivid, but you also have trouble falling asleep without it! That’s how you get addicted. You can take the potion again, but you have to—”

“Skip it for five days between. Yeah I know. I take cold medicine on the other nights.”

“Harry, you shouldn’t be self medicating like that.”

He gave one of his piercing glowers and rose from the bed. Now she’d done it. When he was feeling harangued and defensive he always obstinately lowered his head and glared from under his eyebrows. He had no idea how very intimidating that look could be.

“You really think it’s better to suffer through? To use a silencing charm so no one hears you?”

She ignored his jab and forged ahead. “Different potions combined could be dangerous.”

“I keep seeing all of you dead,” Harry quietly snarled. “Every single one of you. Or the snake attacking us, or Voldemort killing me, or you at the Manor getting tortured to madness, or Ginny getting killed by Bellatrix, or Ron splinched and bleeding to death.”

Hermione’s chin began to wobble.

“It doesn’t do any good to see it again and again!” he continued, voice suddenly escalating in volume. “It’s hard enough to ignore it all when I’m awake. There’s no fucking way I’m going to willfully think about the bleeding war when I’m sleeping! I’m tired of waking up feeling like I just survived a battle, or lost someone again! I- I just need to sleep... We went months without sleeping proper, and I’m fucking tired of it.”

Hermione felt tell-tale stinging in her eyes and she blinked furiously at them.

“I’m following the instructions for the potions! I don’t mix it with alcohol or other potions. I’m not stupid!”

“I never said you were!” she gasped.

“Well then maybe try not talking to me like I am. Should I be putting a silencing charm on myself like you do? Nap all day, scream all night? How’s that working out, Hermione?”

Hermione shook her head and the tears finally fell down her cheeks. She hated it when he talked to her like that. She’d never done well when people gave her a dressing down, especially when she was just trying to help. He was right, though. Nothing was working out. She didn’t know what she was doing. Everything was so impossible now that she’d never sort it out. She swiped at her lashes.

Harry gave a sigh; one she’d heard from him use thousands of times.

“Look,” he said in a much more gentle tone. “I’ll be extra careful. And— and I’ll try to wean myself off it all over the next month or so, okay?”

Hermione gave a stiff nod.

“I just came to let you know breakfast is on soon. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said putting a tentative hand on Hermione’s shoulder.

“I’m fine,” she said roughly wiping at her eyes, shrugging off his hand. She didn’t care how upset he was, there was no call for him to jump on her like that. “But Harry… I meant it. I’d rather you not tell Ron about the silencing charm.”

Harry’s look of gentle concern seemed to harden.

“I don’t like lying to him.”

“I’m not asking you to lie, I’m just asking you not to go and tell him about this one thing.”

“If he asks, I’m telling him,” he stubbornly answered, a defiant tilt to his head making her want to smack him.

“I know you prefer Ron to me, but are you really incapable of keeping ONE secret for me?”

Harry gave a hurt look. “That’s not fair.”

“Well it’s not fair how your first concern wasn’t how I was doing, but rather if I’d told RON about this!” Hermione bit out, all patience gone. “For you he’ll always come first, and I understand that. I really do. I know I’m not the ‘fun friend’ or the one that makes you feel good. I know I’m the nag—”

“You’re not,” he feebly replied. They both knew that wasn’t true.

“I am. I know I am sometimes, but I was trying to help and you leapt down my throat for it!”

“I’m sorry for that...” he said, a look of true contrition on his face.

“It’s fine,” she sighed, though she didn’t feel it. She didn’t have it in her to try and keep up a fight with Harry. He had very few coping skills for his anger and trauma and they’d never gotten on very well when she was concerned about his well being. “But please — don’t say anything about the silencing charms to Ron? I didn’t want anyone to know, Harry, but I especially don’t want Ron getting worried about this. He has so much on his plate, and I just… Please.”

Harry quietly looked away, seemingly wrestling with it, before he finally nodded. Hermione’s whole body sagged with relief. She looked longingly to the camp bed she’d just made. How easy it would be to curl up on it and nap the rest of the day.

“What’s all this?” Harry asked, picking up her parchments from the side table.

“Nothing! It’s just scribblings!” she cried out, clawing the parchment right out of his hand.

He looked unconvinced. It was a pathetic excuse. She wasn’t even sure why she didn’t want anyone to know about her flimsy Australia plans. Perhaps it was because she didn’t have a clue on how to undo all the wrongs she had done.

If Ron had seen the papers he’d keep pushing her to tell him what was on the parchment, but Harry was never very relentless when it came to Hermione’s personal life. He never inquired about her mad schedules in third year, S.P.E.W., who she wrote to, or anything much about her life outside of Hogwarts.

Harry cared about her of course — the two of them loved one another very deeply and would do anything to protect one another — but there often was a lack of curiosity about her life from him. At times this would sting — she invested so much time and energy fretting over Harry and he put in a tenth the effort for her — but it also could prove rather convenient to have a friend who let you have your privacy. She could go about her business and not be questioned or stopped. It was much like with her parents. She had so much freedom to do what she liked without any interference, and definitely took advantage of it at every turn.

That was what was different about Ron. He was the one person who had absolute interest in her — not her brain, not her achievements, and not what she could do for him— her.

Ron knew just about everything about her, and paid her so much attention. It was like that even in their first year. Ron she could gab with for hours about everything in the world, and he’d avidly listen to her like no one ever had before. He genuinely cared about every little thing in her life. She’d go off about something, but instead of tuning her out how everyone else did, Ron sat and listened, engaged, argued, asked questions, added his thoughts on it, would have a real conversation with her.

When she was secretive he’d interfere with her plans, grill her to know what she was up to, and try to get into her head to follow her line of thinking. She’d never had anyone show her that much personal attention. It was so refreshing, was it any wonder she housed a soft spot for the lanky redhead?

As much as Harry ignored Hermione at times, he loved a good mystery. He stood frowning down at her papers a moment too long.

“Let’s get some breakfast,” said Hermione, hoping to distract Harry. Food didn’t work. He was starting to riffle through the papers! “Did Ron cook it this morning?”

She knew Ron was one topic that could thoroughly distract Harry.

“No, he didn’t,” said Harry looking at her, lowering the papers to his side. Yep, mentioning Ron worked every time. “Mrs Weasley cooked everything so I’m sure it’s a particularly good meal.”

“I’m sure that’ll be a relief for Ron,” said Hermione, going into the hallway. She could just sprinkle Ron’s name around like catnip for Crookshanks, coaxing him towards her and away from the papers. “Though I’m surprised he didn’t help her. He’s been doing that every morning.”

She had to suppress a triumphant grin when he set the papers down and followed her into the hallway.

“He’s not up yet.”

She looked at him with surprise. Ron had been up before everyone for weeks, always helping with breakfast and other chores around the house. Why would he suddenly be sleeping in? Even at Shell Cottage he’d been up before most of them. Had something happened in the night to exhaust him? Had he taken a potion to force himself to sleep? Was he avoiding her and her dark moods?

“He’s still sleeping?” she asked, hands nervously clutching her middle. It was a testament to how close they’d grown over the last year, because Harry eyed her hands and expression before giving a sympathetic smile.

“Hermione, it’s a good thing he’s sleeping in.”

She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, unconvinced.

“You know as well as I how little he’s been sleeping,” he continued. “He hasn’t slept in like this for almost a year.”

“Exactly! Why would that suddenly change?” She cringed at the hysterical edge already in her voice.

“Maybe some things are getting back to normal,” he said, giving her a small pat on the shoulder.

Hermione bit her lip and glanced up the stairs. Nothing had just ‘gone back to normal’ recently, and she didn’t see how Harry could be so nonchalant about it.

“Maybe I should wake him…”

“His mum asked me and Ginny not to. He’ll be grateful for the kip,” he said, poking her down the stairs.

“I should just check on him.”

“I already did. He was tucked up and snoring away minutes ago. He’s fine.”

Knowing he wouldn’t appreciate her continued worrying over something so trivial, she went to the living room to feed Crookshanks. The moment the cat’s kibble hit the bowl he padded over from behind a couch and wound his way around her legs.

She’d missed her wonderful cat when they’d been on the Horcrux Hunt, and he seemed to have missed her just as vehemently when they were finally reunited. That day he’d yowled and thrown himself at her stomach so hard she would have fallen over if Ron hadn’t caught her from behind. Pig had similarly cheeped and hooted for Ron, excitedly flying around his head until Ron snatched him from the air and petted the owl’s little puffed up chest. Harry’s face had fallen ever so slightly as he watched their reunions and looked away. Ron had caught her eye and the two of them did their best to keep the affection with their pets away from Harry a bit. He’d been devastated upon losing Hedwig. It wasn’t the same as all the people they’d lost, of course, but neither of them wanted to rub it in.

Crookshanks’s joy upon her return was short lived. After an hour or so of meowing and purring the cat’s resentment at being left for months came to the surface. He ignored Hermione, not deigning to so much as look at her for three days. He’d thankfully forgiven her since then.

“Well, at least one of my ginger boys is up.” She laughed as the large cat continued to purr and nearly tripped her with his vehement headbutts to her ankles. She gave his head a scratch before returning to the kitchen, feeling somewhat calmer.

Harry was putting glasses out on the table, Mrs Weasley was slicing tomatoes and tending to the streaky bacon, and Ginny stood at the stove looking a touch cross. She was flipping over eggs and cursing as yolk after yolk broke in the pan.

“I can do that,” Harry murmured, but Mrs Weasley answered for Ginny.

“She has to learn some time. She can’t keep leaving all the cooking to me or you boys.”

Ginny gave a crow of triumph as one egg’s yolk stayed intact, giving Hermione a grin.

“Ron coming down?” Ginny asked as she plated the deflated eggs.

“He’s still having a lie in, it seems…”

“And I don’t want you waking him,” said Mrs Weasley, giving a wave of her wand that filled the pitcher with pumpkin juice. “He’s barely sleeping, poor thing, and I’m glad for him to finally get some real rest!”

Wishing to help, but knowing she would be just as hopeless as Ginny at flipping eggs, Hermione began distractedly putting out plates and silverware for the table, as Harry took platters to the table.

Mr Weasley had already gone to work early that morning, and without Ron breakfast was a rather quiet affair.

Hermione half heartedly picked at her food. Her persistently tiny appetite hadn’t waxed over the weeks at the Burrow, much to Ron’s chagrin. She’d narrow her eyes in resentment every time he prodded her to eat a few more bites. He wasn’t here now, though. She had to admit she missed his prodding as she silently stared at her plate. Everyone had finished their eating well ahead of her, but she was still wrestling with her first egg and piece of toast.

“I was thinking,” said Ginny as she leaned across the table to a third helping of streaky bacon. “We should go out today.”

Hermione shuddered at the thought of leaving the Burrow.

“Go out?” Harry repeated, taking his and Ginny’s plates to the sink, where Mrs Weasley was doing the washing.

“Yes, out!” Ginny cried, giving a large grin.

“But we were just at Hogwarts yesterday…” Harry had a perplexed look on his face.

“I mean doing something that isn’t rebuilding after the war or chores. Anything. The village. Luna’s place. Quidditch. Diagon Alley— “

“You are not going to Diagon Alley, young lady!” Mrs Weasley interjected as she scrubbed a pan. Ginny bristled and flushed. “They’ve yet to round up all the criminals from this war, and not weeks ago Diagon Alley was a den of destruction and desperate destitutes.”

“Say that three times fast,” Ginny murmured under her breath, too low for her mum to hear. Harry and Hermione barely hid their smiles.

“Plus, you’re not seventeen yet!”

“Fine, Mum. No Diagon Alley,” she said in a congenial tone, belied by the angry set of her jaw. Ginny tossed her hair over her shoulder.

“So, besides the ‘din of D’s,’” she said with an agitated look towards her mother’s back, “where would you like to go?”

“I dunno… Whatever you like is fine,” Harry said with an aimless shrug. He looked as keen to go out as Hermione did.

“I say Luna’s then,” she said with an excited grin. “What about you Hermione?”

Hermione forced herself to smile and feign excitement. “Maybe the village? I’ve never been before. Ron mentioned the pub he’d call me from and a paper shop as well.”

“Well, they don’t have much as far as quills go, but you might find something you like there!” Ginny said, looking positively jovial.

“Maybe we should wait and see what Ron wants to do,” said Hermione, giving a look up the stairs.

“I won’t be surprised if he chooses to stay close to home,” said Ginny before adding sotto voce, “I think he worries about leaving Mum alone in the house for long. He’s not left the house except to check on George, and he’s been doing a lot around here, hasn’t he?”

“He has, yeah…” said Harry looking at his hands. “We’ll leave it to him then.”

Harry’s mouth tightened further and guilt was working its way onto his face. Ginny put a hand over his and gave it a squeeze. A loving look passed between them and Harry leaned in to kiss Ginny’s temple, prompting Hermione to look away.

She and Ron hadn’t quite figured out how to have little moments like that in front of others. After the ‘getting caught snogging by his mother’ debacle they’d been less inclined to touch one another, even innocently, around others. She couldn’t figure out why it was so hard; After all, the first time she snogged Ron they’d done it right in front of Harry! There was no reason they couldn’t be just as demonstrably in love with one another as Harry and Ginny! Well… maybe that was the problem.

Hermione certainly loved Ron, but wasn’t as certain he felt the same way. In every action she felt cherished… but he hadn’t said he loved her. Not truly. He’d said ‘I love you’ once in passing their sixth year while he was still dating Lavender. She’d replayed the moment in her mind for weeks, but there had been no repeat performance in real life.

She’d nearly said ‘I love you’ to him a few times, but always caught herself at the last moment.

The previous week his Mum had been crying because George had patently refused to come home. As his mother cried, Ron took over the half made meal. He’d overcooked the chicken a bit, and the gravy he’d attempted was watery, but he’d somehow managed to finish the meal in time for the family who came for dinner— all of them save George.

Afterwards they’d gone to the apple orchard and he sat beside Hermione stroking her hair, fretting about the meal and his mother. She looked at him from under her lashes, and a bit of sun hit his hair so perfectly it almost seemed to glow as if he were the source of the light, and not the setting sun behind him. He squinted with worry, and the words ‘I love you’ rang in her head so loudly she could barely keep them from spilling forth.

She wasn’t entirely certain what kept her from saying it. It was hard to imagine Ron rejecting her or reacting strangely to the revelation. He was so loving and patient with her, prodding her to eat food and checking in with her if she looked the least bit upset… But then Ron did that with everyone. That was just his way. He doted on Harry, his mother, and his siblings just as much as he did Hermione.

The passionate kisses they’d shared a few times left her breathless and in no doubt that he was attracted to her, but attraction was a very far distance from romantic love, was it not? He’d been able to snog Lavender for months while not showing particular regard for her romantically.

There were so many passionate and loving moments between them that seemed they HAD to be based in love. But a war, and all those adrenaline filled flashes of tension… Maybe it was just shared trauma they were mistaking for something more. Perhaps he was just mixing up the deep platonic love he felt for Hermione for romantic love, and hormones were making up the rest of the difference.

Everything felt so dissonant and uncertain, she didn’t want to deny herself the comfort of Ron by throwing in a declaration of love before she knew he felt the same way. There didn’t seem to be a mature rational way of discussing it with him to collect more intel, not that she could think of anyway. It felt every bit as daunting as breaking into the Ministry or Gringotts.

It was like one of those trust fall exercises her parents had to do at a work retreat. You had to fall backwards with your eyes closed and have faith everyone would catch you. She trusted Ron with her life, but wasn’t sure she could trust she’d fall back into his arms shouting ‘I love you’ and come out unscathed.

Hermione pushed her plate away, feeling too wane to eat more. The three of them helped Mrs Weasley clean up the kitchen, after which the matron claimed she had a headache and went to rest in her bedroom. They then shuffled about waiting for Ron, playing uninteresting games of chess, throwing a marble around for Crookshanks, and generally feeling a malaise only a Ronless few hours could create. When he still hadn’t made an appearance Hermione finally broke.

“I’m going to go get him.”

“How about I see if he’s still sleeping,” said Harry in an annoyingly calm tone. The glare she was about to give him lost its potency when she saw he looked every bit as impatient to get Ron as she.

“You two are a real mess when he’s gone,” Ginny commented fondly, finding a brush and sitting down with Crookshanks.

Harry and Hermione shared a glance that was more loaded than Ginny could know. They’d never told her about the time Ron had left the Horcrux hunt. In fact they’d never even discussed it with one another or Ron.

“Right, well, he’s just upstairs,” said Harry with a pointed look at Hermione before ascending the stairs. Ron hadn’t left them again. He was just sleeping in! The sudden feeling of panic and abandonment were completely unfounded. How ridiculous she was.

Ginny gave her a consoling look. Hermione managed a halfhearted shrug and sat with a groan beside her. She would brush her cat and try to suppress the growing unease.

A few minutes passed before Harry made his way downstairs, a tired looking Ron in tow. It took everything in her to not launch herself at him, whether to kiss him or demand answers she wasn’t sure.

“Ron says we should do quidditch today,” said Harry, sitting beside Ginny.

“I told him you were too lazy to walk over to Luna’s or the village!” said Ginny with a teasing smile, pushing a covered plate towards him that housed some breakfast.

Ron made a face and stiffly took a seat at the table, barely sparing Hermione a glance. Had she done something? Why wouldn’t he look at her?

“I’m never going to go to that house,” said Ron, tearing into the plate of food.

“But we’d get to see Luna!”

“Luna’s great,” he said before pointing a fork at Ginny, “but I’m not going to go over there.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not having glumpy tea with her lousy dad skulking about,” he said with a snort. “Don’t forget, the man tried to hand us over to Death Eaters.”

“Well he was in an impossible situation…” Hermione offered. Ron rolled his eyes.

“It wasn’t impossible. You don’t turn people over to Death Eaters,” Ron said simply, taking a bite of sausage. Hermione wanted to argue the finer points of it, and could see the other two didn’t agree with Ron’s assessment either. Ron looked between them all before giving a sigh. “Look, if that old bleeder ever shows a whiff of remorse for it, I’ll be happy to let bygones be… but he could have gotten us all killed, so I’m not going to go over there and play polite waiting for an apology.”

“Fair enough,” Harry cut in before anyone could argue the point further. Ginny began to describe the progress made on the Lovegood’s home repairs, but Hermione only half listened. Instead she concentrated on Ron. Despite the extra sleep he was excessively pale, his freckles standing out like cinnamon on top of cream. The shadows under his eyes were pronounced, and he was unshaved.

Ron swallowed a mouthful of eggs before finally speaking to Hermione.

“Did you get enough to eat at breakfast?” he asked in an undertone.

Her stomach felt very full after her egg and toast, but she knew that wouldn’t be considered ‘eating enough’ for Ron. She hesitated to answer. He didn’t look her way, instead he sawed a piece of toast in two and began to spread egg on it, before cutting up some sausage and making a nice little half sandwich. She assumed he was back to ignoring her, and gave a start when he spoke again.

“Try and eat this?”

The half sandwich had been wrapped in a napkin and slid across the table to her. She took it, though she had no intention of eating it. If it weren’t a sandwich she’d press it in a journal, chalking it up to another sign that he cared about her, even when he was looking poorly.

“Well, let’s play some quidditch!” Ginny said with a broad smile. Hermione shook her head at how the girl could be so lighthearted after everything. She envied her, really. Harry was brooding and hurting after the war, and there was Ginny being light and warm for him, prompting smiles out of him, making him go out and do something fun. Hermione didn’t know how to do the same for Ron. She didn’t want to go out. She didn’t know how to tempt him into something that would lighten the load.

“Where’s Mum at? Does she need us to do anything before we go?” Ron asked, looking about.

“She went up to take a nap,” said Ginny, her tone gentler than it had been the whole morning. Ron quietly nodded and a sort of understanding seemed to pass between them because he suddenly put on a grin almost as broad as Ginny’s. Hermione could tell it was forced. His eyes didn’t crinkle up in that inviting way they did when he was genuinely happy, and his smile was always slightly lopsided when he was in genuine amusement, a hint of a dimple creasing his right cheek.

“Alright, get ready for me to kick your arse, Gin,” he crowed, throwing his sister wildly off balance with a hip check, before darting out the door.

“Fat chance! I’m going to throw a quaffle right through your teeth!” she cackled, chasing after him.

Harry smiled at Hermione before chasing after the two siblings. He had a spring in his step she hadn’t seen in well over a year, really. Weasleys had that effect on people. Even Ron’s forced smile could make Hermione feel lighter. She knew something was off with him, but with the sun shining across his hair as he laughed, she could pretend he was alright for the time being. She was a bit irked, though, that he’d barely interacted with her except to criticize how little she’d eaten.

Having no urge to be on a broomstick, she darted up the stairs to get her notes regarding her parents, as well as some books she’d pretend she was reading, should someone wonder what she was doing. When she approached the quidditch field the other three were in the air tossing the quaffle about, large grins on all of their flushed faces. It was rare she wished she was good at flying, but when she saw how carefree they all looked she couldn’t help the feeling of jealousy prickle at her. How could they all be so filled with happiness and able to just enjoy things again? She transfigured a clump of dead leaves into a blanket and sat herself next to an apple tree, taking her books and parchment out from her book bag.

As they played, darting through the air with practiced ease, she scribbled away at her papers trying to come up with a cohesive plan to get her parents back. After well over an hour the best she could manage was ‘find a Muggle library to do some research.’ She’d listed off a number of topics to research when she got there, as well as possible contacts she could use when a shadow fell over her.

She looked up to see Ron, ruddy from exertion and the sun on his ginger complexion. There was a good bit of sweat staining its way through his thin t-shirt. Him all sweaty and panting should have been mildly disgusting, but her mind was more agreeably occupied by how the shirt clung to him, and emphasized how much broader his chest and shoulders had become. She let out a sharp breath as he lifted the shirt to wipe the sweat off his face. Did he have any idea what he did to her? She was on edge enough! She didn’t need him enticing her to jump him and snog his face off in front of Harry and Ginny.

“We’re packing it in,” he said with a guileless smile at her. No, she was fairly certain he had no idea she wanted to tear his shirt off of him. He inspected the ground below him for pebbles and twigs before he placed his broom then sat to her left with a groan. This gave her just enough time to quickly stow her parchment in a book.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” she asked, eyes trailing over the wet hair at the nape of his neck, just teasing the top of his collar.

“Probably would have if Ginny wasn’t flying like a bloody Hungarian horntail. She was going all out. My fingers are still numb from it!” he laughed holding up one of his large long-fingered hands. “I don’t think I have the same callouses as I did last time we scrimmaged either.”

“Hmmm…” said Hermione putting her much smaller hand in his. She loved his hands. They were always so expressive, warm and strong. She took her other hand and gently inspected his fingers. There still remained a few swirling silvery scars from when the brains had attacked him in fifth year, and a few short scars on his hands he’d picked up over the years. She hoped none of them were from the time she’d attacked him with birds in a jealous rage. Her fingers ghosted over the ruddy knuckles, down the long digits, to his too-short fingernails, finally stopping at his calloused thumb and finger tips. “They’re definitely rougher than mine.”

“Ah, well let’s take a look,” he said, bringing her hand under his nose for a closer inspection. She felt a thrill building within her as he glided a finger down a line on her palm, and hoped he didn’t mind the ink stains. “Hmm… According to my deep knowledge of palmistry this line right here indicates that you read and write too much for your own good…”

His finger went further down her hand trailing along the inside of her wrist so gently a pleasurable shudder passed through her. “And this line means you’re highly passionate about house elves.”

“Oh it does not!” she laughed in mock indignation.

“Excuuuse me. Between the two of us, who dropped out of divination, and who took it for three years?”

“You failed to get an O in it, if I recall.”

“That was due to the bias of the geezer testing me, and not because of my excellent palmistry skills,” he said with a sardonic twinkle in his eyes. “Do you want me to continue?”

She nodded her acquiescence, and his finger went back to her palm.

“Let’s see now… strong double head-line means you’re highly intelligent and kind. But it’s straight so you’re stubborn as all hell…”

A snort escaped her mouth.

“These short little lines on your lifeline show you’ve had some times of danger, but it seems to be nice and trouble free further down and these little lines along your wrist mean you’re gonna be prosperous— Looks like you can retire well then! And then your love line…” His voice tapered off.

“What about my love line?” She didn’t look at her palm as his finger caressed her. She studied his freckled face, which was quickly turning a deep shade of crimson.

“Erm, it’s… it’s good,” he stammered. “It’s— the little swoopy bit here ends on the mount of… Neptune? No, Jupiter! That means you’re honest and- and love deeply…”

“Does it say anything about if I’ll be loved as well?”

“You’re loved,” he said with certainty. He nodded his head and poked the side of her hand. “Got a strong marriage line and everything! I remember all the girls giggling over that one in divination.”

“Oh…” Disappointment bloomed within her. For a bit she thought he’d been trying to tell her something. He’d just been remembering old divination rubbish.

“To sum up, you’ve got a case of reader’s hands,” he said, bringing her hand to his lips for a short kiss. “All except your thumb and index finger, that are calloused from gripping quills too tight.”

“Hmm…”

“So what were you up to while I got my arse kicked round the pitch?” he said with a nod at the book beside her.

“Looking at some of the rune translations I did on the Horcrux hunt,” she lied, quickly pushing her book with the Australia plans away from her.

“Why would you be doing that?”

She should have known better than to bring them out with Ron around. He’d winkle the truth out of her rather quickly if she let him.

“Well…” she scrambled, “I wanted to see if I did them right, now that I have a clear head and time.”

“I guess…” he said, looking at her sceptically. “You doing alright?”

“I have a bit of a headache,” she lied again. Well it wasn’t a complete lie, but once you’d had a headache for two months straight you stopped counting it as something significant.

“I can get you some potion for that, if you like,” he said, searching her face. “Or maybe some water? How about I get you some water and a good size lunch. You didn’t eat much at breakfast and— ”

“Yes, you’ve said,” she snapped, before grabbing the rest of her items, haphazardly holding them in her arms. To avoid his eye she stared down at the blanket. She hadn’t done the best job transfiguring it, for it was already losing its shape along the edges and turning a mottled brown color. From the corner of her eyes she could see him rising from the ground. Shoulders tense, his body squared itself at her. That stance always portended an argument, but was cut off by Ginny calling to him.

“I’m going to make lunch! Can you help Harry put away the brooms?”

“Sorted!” he called back, before looking at Hermione. He lowered his head, blue eyes piercing her like a hot iron. “What’s going on? You’re acting off.”

“Maybe I just don’t want to be bothered about food and treated like a child!”

His coppery eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“Oh don’t look so surprised! You’ve been on me every day about food and I’m quite sick of it.”

“That’s only because you’re so thin! You’ve probably lost two stone or more over the last year, and you weren’t carrying around much extra to begin with.”

“You think I don’t know that? I don’t need you badgering and prodding me about it constantly, Ron!”

“Well that’s a bit hypocritical,” he said with a churlish look. “You’ve badgered and nagged about plenty of things over the years, many a lot less important than—” His words halted and he let out a deep sigh.

“You know what? I don’t have the energy for all this,” he said with a shake of his head.

“Sleeping in all morning and playing games really took it out of you, did it?” she bit out. She knew she sounded petulant. She knew she had aimed an unfair dig, but she didn’t much care in the moment.

His jaw clenched and he loomed over her, tall as an oak tree. Hermione stood her ground, lifting her chin to glare back at him. He looked as if he had a retort, but bit it back. He took a deep breath before saying anything.

“I know something’s off with you, and when you’re ready to tell me what it is, I’ll listen,” he said, his voice so low it was barely a breath, “but I won’t take shit I don’t deserve. And I don’t care if it drives you mad, I’m going to nag and poke and make you eat some goddamned food. If I have to get a funnel and force feed you like a sick chicken every day, I will.”

She gasped as his audacity. “How dare you talk to —”

“No! I’m done with, with whatever this was!” he said with a dismissive gesture at her before grabbing his broom and storming towards the broom shed. She couldn’t help the bit of panic skittering up her spine as he walked away from her, but calmed as she saw him make a beeline for Harry, broom in hand. He wasn’t apparating away. There weren’t wards keeping him from her. He wasn’t captured and there wasn’t a locket. It was just her he wanted to be rid of...

Books and papers held tightly to her chest, she marched towards the house. She let out a frustrated yell and tried to kick a stick in anger. She spectacularly missed and ended up dropping everything in her hands, the breeze blowing her few notes away from her.

“Oh bloody brilliant!” she cursed under breath, chasing them down. Far too late in the pursuit she realized she’d dropped her wand by her books, and going back to get it might make her lose her notes for good. One piece of paper was thankfully stopped by a bit of overgrown grass, but the other kept blowing away, just out of reach every time she stooped to pick it up. The parchment finally hooked itself on the bottommost branch of an overgrown shrub. She was crawling on her stomach to get the errant paper when she heard Harry and Ron nearby. Not wanting to see Ron as she was still quite peeved, she stayed low in the shrubbery.

“ — right? I really think she could go professional,” Harry was saying as they put away the brooms.

“Yeah. If we could get Gin on the Cannons then they might do well next year.”

“Given the Harpies poster in her room, I’d say that’s an uphill battle.”

“Yeah, well, most things are an uphill battle with the women in my life,” Ron said with a rueful chuckle.

Hermione rolled her eyes, stretching her arm out towards her parchment. Fingers almost touched the edge of the paper. She finally yanked it towards her and scooted out from the shrub when there was a gust of wind. The shed door shut with a great slam making her jump.

In seconds an ear splitting explosion thrashed her eardrums. Dust and wood flew in every direction. Her ears rang as she struggled to make sense of what had happened.

Where the door to the shed used to be there was now a splintered mass of wood falling to the ground. Wood dust and particles of debris were still settling in the air. Ron was coughing and turned away from the mess while Harry stood stock still, wand pointed at the shed. His eyes were wide and fearsome, focusing on where the door stood, holding on by one lone warped hinge. She’d only seen Harry look this way during a battle.

“Harry? You alright?” Ron wheezed, giving a cough and waving at the cloud of dust around his face.

Harry didn’t respond. His look was wild and senseless, not acknowledging Ron’s presence at all. If she had her wand she would have frozen Harry in place. Why had she left her wand behind the one time she needed it? She wanted to cry out to Ron to step away from him, but her voice caught in her throat. All that came out was a squeek.

“Mate?”

Harry’s blank eyes finally turned to Ron, and if she thought the feral look on his face was bad, she was ill prepared for the sight of his face beginning to crumple. He looked so close to tears she could barely stand it.

“You’re - you’re alright,” Ron murmured, slowly standing beside Harry, approaching him like a wounded animal. He didn’t touch Harry, but stood rather close.

Harry shook his head and just stood, trying to calm his breathing, hands shaking and wand gripped so hard it looked as if he’d snap it.

Ron finally put a hand on their friend’s arm, but Harry flinched away.

“I just… I - I need a moment… I just… I need…” he looks hopelessly about, taking deep gulps of air.

Ron nodded, backing away only a few paces. Harry removed his glasses to shakily wipe at his eyes while Ron checked on the shed. She could see him keeping an eye on Harry the whole time, even as he secured the brooms and repaired the door. It looked nearly as it had before, though the middle section of the wood now had a subtle warp to it.

“It’s all fixed, Harry.”

That seemed to snap Harry’s attention to the present. He looked away from Ron for one final wipe of his eyes.

“The fuck… the fuck is wrong with me… What the hell?” he said, not allowing himself to fully cry. Ron winced.

“We’re all a bit jumpy after everything.”

“No… not like that… I… I could have hurt you!” Harry almost wailed.

“I’d’ve blocked you just fine,’ Ron said with a reassuring smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. Hermione didn’t like that one bit. Could Ron honestly stand much of a chance against Harry’s fast reflexes? The thought of Harry inflicting that spell on Ron instead of the shed made her want to cry as badly as Harry’s tear filled gaze. “You weren’t really aiming at me, though, were you? Just the door that slammed, right?”

“I just… I just did it on instinct… I didn’t even hesitate…” Harry shook his head. “God, what if someone had been there? Ginny or Hermione...”

Ron’s appeared torn. She could tell he was just as concerned as Harry about it. How could he not be?

“But no one was there,” Ron said reassuringly. “After the last year, it’d be weird if you weren’t fast on the draw now.”

“I could’ve killed you.” Harry’s hand shakily threaded through his hair. “I’m not safe to be around…”

“Well, what’s new? Undesirable Number One and all that,” Ron snorted. Harry looked pained and Ron quickly sobbered his expression. “‘Ok, so… Not your best moment, this, but we can work on it, can’t we? Maybe try next time to just... not do a spell first thing. If you have to point your wand, do it. I do it too— but no spells until you have a chance to give it a proper look, eh?”

Harry mutely nodded and gave a great sniff.

“Want some tea?”

Harry gave a noncommittal shrug, which meant he’d accept the tea and company without complaint. The two went to the house and she saw Ron put an arm around his mate, giving him one of those manly one armed squeezes she’d seen them do. Harry didn’t shrug it off.

Hermione sat on the ground, clutching the papers to her chest, for how long she didn’t know. She felt thoroughly ashamed for how terse she’d been with him. Earlier he’d called her a hypocrite, and he’d been very right about it.

The way she’d been so combative with Ron when he was just trying to help her was exactly what she’d censured Harry for earlier that morning. He was so kind and thoughtful and she threw it back in his face. Her vicious words made it that much worse when she knew very well what all Ron was dealing with… It was a wonder he put up with her at all. How long would he be able to? Would any of them?

Her hands fumbled as she wiped the dirt off her clothes. She slowly ambled to the rest of her things, a terrible numbness leaking into her limbs and mind with every movement. Book bag properly packed, she made her way to the house.

Harry was sitting outside with some tea and, slouched low in the wooden chair with long legs fully extended in front of him, was Ron. To anyone that didn’t know Ron well, they’d say he was just a nonchalant teenager, the way he almost lazily drooped off the chair. He even had a bit of a smirk as he chatted at Harry. But she could see the little things that gave away how very tense he was. The set of his mouth was thinner than usual, his shoulders were tensed, his wand was right at his fingertips, and his eyes were worriedly tracing over Harry, studying him like a chess board.

He’d always had the ability to unflinchingly offer friendship, irreverence and comfort, and it never failed to warm her all over. It was probably what most made her love him. She loved everything about him, truth be told. She imagined she always had. It was hard to keep from shouting it across the garden.

As she approached Harry stared down at his tea, but looked markedly better than he had. Ron glanced up at her with a questioning look on his face, smirk fading to something more serious.

“Ron… Could I talk with you a moment?”

He gave a glance to Harry who waved him off. “‘M fine.”

“Yeah, we can talk,” Ron said with a wary nod, putting aside his cup by the chair. He silently followed Hermione across the yard to behind the back of his father’s shed. It was cool and shaded by a few trees and bushes, affording them privacy. She put up most of the charms she had during the horcrux hunt and dropped her book bag to the ground.

With little warning she pounced upon him, her arms around his neck, bringing him low enough for their lips to meet. At first he was so stunned he did little but stand there, arms hovering over her waist, but after her tongue worked its way into his mouth he suddenly pulled away.

“What’s going on? You were yelling at me not ten minutes ago and—”

“And now I’m kissing you,” she said before impatiently pulling him down to her lips.

“But why—?”

“Because you’re you,” she murmured impatiently, nipping his bottom lip to encourage him to continue.

Whatever doubts he had seemed quashed, for he promptly took control of their kiss. An arm swept around her, embracing her tightly against his strong form. His other hand traced its way through her hair. For a moment she worried at how frizzy it must have been, but as his touch lowered to her neck making her body buzz she found she didn’t care about her hair in the least.

A raw heat coursed through her as the kisses grew in intensity. The smell of fresh grass, sweat, and his hair was filling her senses. Her legs felt wobbly as his hands brushed against her flesh. The hand on her back drifted a bit up her top, making her let out a gasp.

Forcing herself to take a breath, she gently pushed him back from her. His hold on her quickly went slack, and his brows wrinkled with concern.

“Too much? Do you want me to stop?”

“No, I just was thinking we should get more comfortable. Maybe - maybe lying down?” she said, struggling to add a notion of calmness into her tone. Flushed and lips slightly swollen he blinked at her.

“Er, yeah,” he hoarsely responded after a few moments. “Yeah, sure."

With a few quick spells her book bag had turned into a blanket on the ground and began to seat herself. Yes, this looked like a comfortable enough spot to lie down. They’d never lain together as they kissed, and her stomach was anxiously flipping over it. She wasn’t worried about their intimacy increasing — no, she was really rather excited for that — she wasn’t sure her skills would be up to the task. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, how to position herself, and certainly didn’t know how Ron wanted to be touched and caressed.

She knew about the machinations of coitus from books and a rather prolonged talk with her mother, complete with charts, but what about everything else leading up to that? Almost everything surrounding romantic physical intimacy she picked up from erroneous sources. Movies, tawdry romance novels of her mothers that she had scanned through, and random comments from other students made up the majority of her knowledge, if it could even be called that. There didn’t seem to be researched text books that taught you how to touch and kiss properly. If there were such a book, she was fairly certain Ron had read it.

The way Ron kissed and touched her… He seemed to know exactly what to do every time. Was it from all his practice with Lavender? That thought was rather souring. Well, practice made perfect then, because it all felt perfect to her.

Ron lowered himself to the ground, a bit more awkwardly than she as he was all long limbs. Nerves shot through her as she tried to decide how to approach him now that they were both on the blanket. Should she just lie down immediately? Pounce him again? All she knew was if they didn’t continue soon she might go mad.

She was jarred from her fretting by Ron playfully bumping his shoulder against hers. He gave her a boyish smile that calmed her a bit. His hand rested beside hers, but he made no move to touch her. He just stared at her with that easy crooked smile. His slight dimple in his right cheek twitched, and she quickly put a hand to cup it. She grazed her fingers across the rough copper hairs on his face. Dappled light hit across his stubble, highlighting different shades of amber and saffron. She was suddenly acutely aware of how he was very much becoming a man.

She leaned in and the passion of earlier was immediately ignited, making all her worries vanish. He bent his head to kiss her, and it seared through her. The kiss went on for a long while, her palms slowly moved down his chest, and his hands similarly wandered. Somehow she ended up on her side, leg twining around his. His hand that had been at her back slid down until it rested on her buttocks giving them a firm squeeze and they both moaned in unison. Puffs of laughter began to break their kiss, and they both giddily smiled at one another.

“Well, I guess we both liked that, then” she breathlessly panted.

“Fuck yeah,” he grinned, pulling her close again, briefly seizing an earlobe between his teeth. His mouth travelled down her neck finding the spot that always made her turn boneless, gasping and frantic for more touches.

“And...” he said, punctuating each move down the column of her neck with a kiss, “I guess...” Kiss. “You like…” Kiss. “That?”

She nodded her head and muffled a moan, pulling her leaping curls aside so he could thoroughly kiss and suck along her neck.

Her hips rolled against his, and he grunted into her ear, hips automatically mimicking her motion. She was shocked to feel the hardness between his legs pressing into her thigh. He seemed to realize this too because he turned his face away just a bit and gave an unintelligible swear. He began to let go of her, apologizing.

Hermione pulled him tightly against her again, her hips twitching against his. “I like it.”

He let out a deep hoarse “fuuuck” that rumbled through her chest. Their kisses became frantic, and she let out a pleased whimper as his hand went up her shirt, cupped her breast and thumbed the nipple. One of her hands weaved its way through his ginger locks, the other danced down the front of his chest to the edge of his shirt, feeling the wiry hairs just disappearing down his waistband.

She’d never been drunk before, but she now knew what intoxication felt like. Her mind was buzzing yet full at the same time. There was nothing but the blaring thoughts of Ron’s hands pressing solidly into her curves. His mouth perfectly molded against hers. His tongue made wicked thoughts and flames flow down her body.

“Fuck… ‘Mione…” He gave a hiss and thrust against her, hand delightfully clasping her breast.

Their movements seemed to be hurtling towards something Hermione couldn’t quite place, and her thighs squeezed around his as her center found an even more pleasurable angle to grind against him.

“Yesss,” she choked out. She pushed her hips more forcefully against him, seam of her jeans rubbing up and down his hardness with complete abandon.

She was dancing closer and closer to the edge, his solid form overwhelming her, the different sensations filling her with a hot lust she’d never experienced before. The jolts fired between her legs built higher and higher. She arched tightly against him, hardly able to breath.

And then she was cuming, suddenly and so forcefully she let out a loud wailing cry.

Her muscles twitched and trembled as she stilled against him, feeling awfully close to fainting. Ron gave a few last thrusts of his hips, giving a deep lust-filled moan before similarly seizing, clutching her close to him. They both went boneless, collapsing into each other, left as nothing but a panting tumble of limbs.

They spent a few hazy minutes holding one another, her head nuzzled into his chest. After a time one of Ron’s hands caressed her hair, attempting to smooth the curls back behind her ear. Wild and a bit sticky with sweat, it clung around his fingers. He made several failed attempts to disentangle himself, without also smothering Hermione’s face in curls.

“It’s like bloody Devil’s Snare,” he chuckled. “Should I light a fire?”

Hermione normally would have blushed pink over a tease about her wild hair, but her mind felt blissfully warm and blank for the first time in weeks.

“I’ve got it,” she lazily smiled back, pushing back all her hair behind her head.

He kissed her sticky forehead and broadly grinned before squinting down their bodies and showing a look of mild distaste. “Ah... where’s my wand?”

She looked down and saw a spreading dark patch on his jeans and one a bit further down his leg. Hermione felt her face crimson as she realized the second stain on his jeans was from her. They sheepishly rolled apart and sat up to get their wands and say a few spells, before turning back to look at one another.

“That was...” he said with a breathless grin.

“Really nice,” Hermione finished. She knew she must have a foolishly besotted look on her face.

“Really fucking hot.” Ron nodded, ducking his head to kiss her lips as she furrowed her brows at his language. She couldn’t keep her scowl up, and pulled back grinning.

“It was, wasn’t it?” she laughed. He smiled down at her and one of his hands stroked up and down her upper arm.

Had she ever felt so care free?

A sudden pop of nearby Apparition startled them from their reverie, immediately popping the elation she’d felt bubbling through her. It burnt away like morning mist.

Ron was on his feet, a furrowed scowl on his face, turning him from affable lover to menacing warrior in seconds. Hermione quickly joined him, tightly gripping her wand at her side. Whoever it was did not take any care to tread softly. The sound of heavy footfalls came their way, and Hermione exhaled a breath when she saw who was walking towards the house.

“Oh! It’s George!” she said in relief, letting her wand arm go lax at her side. She turned to Ron, expecting to see relief flooding his face. His wayward brother had finally returned home!

She never expected to see a brooding worried expression.

Ron silently paced forward before he remembered himself, looking back at her.

“Can you conjure a mirror or something for us? We need to get sorted and back to the house,” he said, brows crinkling even further as he squinted at brother. George had slowed his pace and stood stock still, watching the house.

Hermione silently conjured a mirror for them. Preoccupied by the sudden shift in Ron’s mood she barely took the time to glance at herself as he quickly straightened his clothes and made sure to spell away the telltale signs of a heated snogging session. She finally took the time to sort her own appearance out when she realized she had stubble burns along her face and neck, along with a love bite at her jugular. She quickly covered those up with some glamours, willing herself to remember to use a tincture for them once she got in the house.

Her hair was a lost cause of snarled knots, so she put it into a large bun at the top of her head. The mirror faded out of existence just as she put the final touch on her hair. Ron undid the security spells around them, while Hermione transfigured the blanket back into a book bag.

“Do I look alright?” she asked, wanting to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything that could give away their previous activities.

“Sure,” he said with a cursory glance before striding towards George, shoulders tense.

Nothing could account for his sober response to his brother returning, at least as far as Hermione could figure.

“Oi! George,” Ron called out.

George gave a start and turned around. Hermione gasped at his appearance. He was unshaven, with dark circles under his eyes, and his skin, normally a bit ruddy, was a sickly pale. He looked as if he’d been hunting Horcruxes.

“Where’d you two come from?” George asked, voice sounding a touch hoarse. Both Ron and Hermione began to color. He squinted at them before his mouth twitched. “Oh I see!”

“We were just at the broom shed,” Hermione protested.

“Yeah, our brooms are notorious for leaving love bites,” George teased, pointing to where Hermione’s neck met her shoulder.

“Ron! I asked you if I looked alright!” she squealed, conjuring another mirror.

“Don’t worry. If he’s leaving marks like that on your neck, he probably thinks you look alright,” George said with a low laugh. Hermione glanced at Ron and expected to see him churlishly bristling at his brother’s tease.

Instead he looked at the house and bit his lip. “Hermione, could you go on to the house?”

George’s expression quickly turned grim.

“I… ” she hesitated, unsurely looking between them. Ron looked down at her, for no more than a second, but his intense blue gaze immediately convinced her to comply. “Of course. Should I tell them George is here?”

“Not yet,” Ron answered for the pair of them, crossing his arms to regard his brother. Silence stretched between them, barbed and filled with import Hermione had no access to. She was terribly curious to know what was happening in this hidden exchange, but quickly realized nothing would be said as long as she stood there.

With some nonsensical excuse she trotted to the house. Inside the kitchen she found Ginny at the counter, letting out a laugh and leaning her head backwards to look at Harry whose arms were wrapped around her waist. A half sliced tomato lay forgotten on the cutting board.

She gave an awkward throat clearing to alert them to her presence. They didn’t immediately leap apart, but Harry rather slowly extricated himself from Ginny. Hermione shuffled through the door up to the loo to properly get rid of the love bites and stubble burn Ron had left her with. When she was sure there were no marks left untended, she scampered into Ginny’s room to peer down into the Weasley’s back yard. She could just make out George and Ron’s red hair through the branches of a tree, but frustratingly that’s all she could see. She felt a touch guilty for trying to spy on them, but that was only because Ron was acting so cagey! Something was going on between the two brothers, and she was determined to find out what.

Returning to the kitchen she found Ginny and Harry had finished slicing produce and set out ingredients for everyone to assemble their own sandwiches.

Ron stumped into the room a moment later, but George was nowhere to be seen. Hermione shot him a questioning look. He shook his head before ushering her into the living room and leaning into her, his mouth almost touching her ear.

“He’s still dithering outside.”

“What did you two talk about?”

“Nothing much,” he said with a shrug. “Mostly checking that he was alright…”

Somehow that didn’t seem like the whole truth. She searched his face, the way he tried to school it to a calm expression, the small downturn of his mouth, and the slight flush across his freckles. He must have caught the argument in her eyes, because he quickly cut her off.

“I can’t force him to come in, and I don’t want to set up Mum and Ginny for disappointment if he bails, so I’m not saying anything, and neither are you.”

“I wasn’t going to,” she assured him, trying not to prickle at his commanding tone.

“Ron, Hermione, we have owls!” Harry called out to them.

“Be right there,” Ron answered, his serious expression robotically flickering into a smile before he entered the kitchen. “Fare looks good. Thanks, Gin.”

Hermione felt a chill settle around her. When had he become so good at putting on smiles that didn’t meet his eyes?

A handsome horned owl with a Ministry of Magic crest around its neck sat perched on the kitchen windowsill, looking about the room in a terribly imperious way. Harry and Ginny stood next to the bird.

“Aren’t you a proud one,” said Ginny, stroking the bird on its feathered chest before feeding it an owl treat.

Hermione primly seated herself at the worn kitchen table, expecting Ron to take a seat beside her. Instead he took a moment to get her a glass of water and an apple. He placed them in front of her with a pointed look. She ignored his gaze and fixed her sights on the owl at the window.

“You should wait until you’ve taken the letter before you fatten them up,” said Harry, though he seemed just as eager to pet the pretty thing, looking at the bird in a longing sort of way. Moments like this made Hermione’s heart clench at how he’d lost his Hedwig. “Don’t want it flying off before we take the letters.”

The owl gave Harry a sharp peck on the finger, as if offended he’d impugn its honor in such a way.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean it,” Harry said with a bowed head before removing three indentically sealed letters and bringing them to the table and handing one each to Ron and Hermione. With the owl gone, Ginny went to retrieve Mrs Weasley for lunch.

Harry had a grim look on his face, but quickly cracked his letter open, hesitating in reading it as he waited for Ron and Hermione to open theirs as well. Ron pursed his lips at his unopened letter and tapped it on the table, glancing to Hermione then back to the parchment.

A wild thought rushed through Hermione’s head. What if the Ministry was going to bring them before the Wizengamot for crimes during the war? They’d broken into the Ministry, Gringotts... Harry even did an Unforgivable there!

Hermione’s hands shook as she inspected the crisp envelope, and for an awful moment she thought she might faint. The parchment was of the finest quality Hermione had ever seen, thick and flecked with little pieces of silvery material woven into the paper. The seal on it was dark purple and had the Ministry of Magic crest pressed into it, making for an intimidating sight.

“Real official, innit?” Ron said into her ear. Hermione nodded back, hesitating before breaking the seal. They each turned to their letters.

To Miss Hermione Granger,

In the name of the Ministry of Magic, the Minister of Magic takes pleasure in presenting the Order of Merlin, First Class to you.

“What?” Hermione gave a yelp, knocking over her glass of water that pooled across the table.

“What is it?” asked Mrs Weasley from the stairs, Ginny rushing past her to Harry’s side and reading the letter with wide eyes.

“Does yours say this too?” Hermione asked Ron, shoving her letter at him. He scanned over it and nodded.

“Harry?” Hermione asked, cheeks flushed, handing her letter over to him. Harry nodded as well. She grabbed it back and voraciously continued reading.

This is to award your extraordinary heroism in the Battle of Hogwarts, and other aid you rendered to the war effort. You have distinguished yourself with conspicuous bravery, valor and intrepidity, at great risk to your own life, going above and beyond any wizard or witch’s duty during the last war. Your actions reflect the highest traditions and tenets of wizardom, and for all this we thank you.

We will be holding a ceremony in August to formally present you with your Order of Merlin, should you choose to accept it.

The Ministry also wants to extend an opportunity for someone of your caliber to continue such works as we rebuild our community. We are offering you the position of Deputy Auror, to begin as soon as you are able. After our abbreviated training of several months, you would be promoted to full Auror. Attached are forms detailing this position, and a meeting must be scheduled for the final papers to be signed, should you agree to accept the position.

The Ministry commends you for all your service, and waits for your reply,

Thank you,

Kingsley Shacklebolt Minister of Magic

“Will you tell me what’s going on?” asked Mrs Weasley, marching over to them arms akimbo.

“They’ve been awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class,” Ginny said, breathlessly looking between them all, just as flabbergasted as they were.

“What?” Mrs Weasley cried out, grabbing for a letter to read as well. As her eyes got to the bottom of the page she gave a horrid yowl before hugging Ron and crying. “Ohh Ron… I can’t believe— I mean... We all knew Harry would, but… Oh Ronnie!”

Ron silently patted his mother’s shoulder, still in his place staring at the paper with wide eyes.

“Let me see it?” Mrs Weasley asked her son, and he dazedly handed it over. “Order of Merlin! And… Kingsley wants you to become an Auror? But you haven’t even graduated from Hogwarts yet!”

Ron, uncharacteristically quiet, gave a shrug and looked to Hermione and Harry.

“And we didn’t even have to take our NEWTs,” Harry replied, giving Ron a conspiratorial grin.

“Makes it pretty clear how desperate the Ministry must be for recruits to ask me to join them,” Ron said in a low voice, barely audible as he shook his head. Hermione knew this was a perfect moment to intervene and stop him from his self deprecation, but found herself unable to form the words needed to boost him. Luckily his mother stepped in.

“Oh of course they’d want you, Ron! You’ve an Order of Merlin!” Mrs Weasley proclaimed, clutching Ron to her breast again, great fat tears forming in her eyes. “You all were so brave… ”

“Is everything alright?” they heard from the kitchen door.

There stood George. His shadowed and sunken eyes darted around his childhood home with a strange caginess. He hadn’t set foot at the Burrow since well before the war ended, and didn’t particularly look like he wanted to be there now.

Mrs Weasley, thoroughly overwhelmed by the sight of him on top of all the Ministry news, broke into wet sobs that were even louder than before. She bustled across the room to give George a crushing hug he perfunctorily returned.

“These three just got Order of Merlin, First Class, and have been invited to join the Aurors, no NEWTs required,” Ginny reported as she went up to hug George as well.

“Oh is that all? Nothing impressive like landing yourselves on the Chocolate Frog cards?” George said with a dry smile, slowly extracting himself from his mother’s grasp. “Got any food?”

“Ginny set out some sandwich fixings. Here, I’ll make you one” Ron said, getting up from the table.

“See, Ickle Ronniekins making me a sandwich— definitely a more impressive feat than medals and dream careers,” George said, slumping to the kitchen table and sitting beside Hermione. He smelled a bit of sweat and stale drink. She had to wonder how he’d been spending the past weeks.

“I’m so happy to have you home! I was beginning to think you’d never come back,” Mrs Weasley bemoaned, bustling the kitchen to get some tea going.

“Well… I’m back,” George said, resting his elbows on the table, looking every inch as weary as Hermione felt. “At least for a bit… Might need to take this lot out to celebrate Ron’s sandwich skills later tonight. Big deal, that.”

“It’s nice to have something to celebrate, for once,” Harry said with a nod. “What are you thinking?”

“I dunno, maybe hit the pub in the village,” George said with a shrug.

“No, not the village,” Ron said with a strange amount of firmness, thrusting a full plate of sandwiches in front of George, then another in front of Hermione. His expression had turned grim, and his mouth had become a firm straight line. Hermione stared at him as George, Ginny and Harry speculated over where to spend their evening. Where everyone else was happy to come up with ideas, Ron had grown completely silent. No one else seemed to have noticed the change in Ron’s demeanor, though.

“I’m a bit nervous about Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade— we wouldn’t have much privacy,” Harry noted.

“Harry’d probably be swarmed with people,” said Ginny.

“I know a Muggle club we could hit up,” said George lowly, so his mother couldn’t hear over her ministrations with the kettle. “We’d need to make you all some Muggle I.D.s, but I can manage that easy enough.”

“I’ve never been to a Muggle club! Do I have to dress up?” asked Ginny, eyes bright.

“A bit, yeah— I bet Hermione can help you with that.”

“I’ve never been to a club either!” Hermione let out, feeling nervous at the prospect of it. The most she'd seen of clubs was quickly and nervously walking by them in London. It didn’t seem a good fit for her.

“Well then Angelina can help,” George said, making sure his mother wasn’t able to hear. “How ‘bout we meet at my hotel after dinner here. Round eight thirty? Gives the girls a chance to dress up a bit, and us lads a chance to pre-drink a bit before we leave.”

Ron had little enthusiasm on his face, but seeing George, Ginny and Harry’s attitude about it, gave a nod. Hermione nodded along, standing from the table. She went to the kitchen door and gave Ron a tilt of her head so he’d follow. He quickly took up with her, but not before grabbing a few sandwiches in a clean dish cloth.

“You don’t look too keen on going to a club,” said Hermione as they went out.

“I’m not. You don’t seem too keen on it either, though.”

“No… It sounds exhausting. We wouldn’t even leave properly until nine or later. Plus who wants to be scantily clad in an ill-lit place with banging music and alcohol?”

A small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Scantily clad?”

“The ‘dress code’ for women is a bit underdressed in clubs for my liking. Always something low cut, or short and strappy. Lots of skin.”

“Hmmm if you’re there, I think a Muggle club might not be so bad,” he said, eyeing her body up and down.

“Well, Muggle clubs are very different from any of the pubs or parties you’ve been to, unless you’ve secretly gone to, I don’t know, a Wizard rave of some sort.”

“I’ve seen lots of wizards raving about lots of things the past few years. No idea what that has to do with Muggle clubs.”

“A ‘rave’ is a wild sort of dance party,” she explained. “Politicians were even speaking out against them a few years ago. It’s just not a natural fit for someone like me.”

“We don’t have to go, if you don’t want to, but at the same time,” said Ron, taking her hand to draw her close, chuckling a bit. “I wouldn’t mind getting to see you adhering to the Muggle club dress code.”

She smiled at his cheek, a blush warming her face as his hands encircled her waist.

“Well… it might be fun to celebrate a bit. We’ve not had much chance to celebrate this year.”

“Order of Merlin! Blimey… It feels a bit unreal… You don’t suppose George is pranking me?”

“Of course not!” she laughed.

“Awfully coincidental timing… We get the letters, seconds later there’s George... This is the kind of shit prank I can see him pulling for his big debut back at the Burrow.”

Hermione’s face sobered a bit.

“I don’t think we’ll see him debuting any pranks soon… He looked so tired, and —” she bit her lip, not wanting to alarm him, but also knowing it was best to talk honestly about it. “Ron, I think he has been drinking today. I could smell it on him…”

Ron nodded and his hold on her slackened by a margin. “The last time I visited him he was deep in a bottle… We didn’t get too deep into it. I don’t want to push him too hard about it right now.”

“Well won’t a club be a rather bad environment for him?”

“I’d rather he be drunk with company than without.”

“I suppose… Well, maybe we should do this, if not to have fun, then just to watch out for George.”

Ron kissed the top of her head. “Always a thoughtful one, you.”

She hummed at his attention.

“So… The Aurors…” Ron said with a nervous swallow.

“Oh that!” Hermione said with a snort.

“Yeah… What are your thoughts on it?” he said, gently pulling himself from her grasp.

“A few years ago I might have been flattered at being asked, but I think they have a lot of nerve asking us to go straight into anything like that, given the year we’ve had! And we haven’t even finished our education!”

“So you don’t want to be an Auror?”

“Of course not! I’d rather, I don’t know, scrape barnacles off of dragons. Plus they must know our whole class has been invited back to Hogwarts,” she said with a small scoff. “Honestly, I don’t know how they can expect anyone in their right mind to take such an offer.”

Ron grimaced as he scratched at his jaw, hairs rasping against his fingers with every movement.

“Yeah, probably have to be rather mental…” he said, going a bit pale as his mouth turned down.

“Oh no…” Hermione said with a sudden realization. “You don’t think Harry will take that offer, do you?”

His eyebrows rose. “Yeah, he will.”

“Of course he would! He’s just the sort of brave stubborn person to do it, isn’t he? We’ll just have to convince him not to!” she said, about to march back into the house, but Ron caught her arm.

“Hermione… He’s going to join the Aurors. There’s nothing that’ll stop him.”

“Well not with that attitude!”

“You saw him in there, he was smiling and happy about it.”

“I don’t care if he’s over the moon about it! It’s dangerous, and we’ve been through enough! He can’t just go and throw his life away—”

“How would being an Auror be throwing his life away?” Ron asked, giving a penetrating look. Nerves fluttered in her stomach. “It’s a good career.”

“Of course it is, but it’s dangerous! He could get hurt! Especially without all the training!”

“Well… Let’s look at what training he’s already gotten,” he hoarsely began. “He’s quick on his feet. He’s fairly athletic. He’s trained for years for this really… Giant spiders, tons of duels, battles and snatchers. Was on the quidditch team—”

“Oh what does that have to do with it!” she irritatedly asked.

“There are missions that require flying skills, and it shows he can work with a team,” Ron rattled off in a low voice. “Plus he doesn’t have slow reflexes and has the ability to keep his head about him in battles ok enough… Yeah he could be an alright Auror, even without a seventh year under his belt. He wouldn’t be throwing his life away. And Kingsley says he’s good enough. He’d know that, wouldn’t he?”

“I think you’re painting an overly rosy picture.”

“Well, he’s signing up no matter if he’d be shit or not,” Ron growled in protest, looking oddly heated about it. “So it’s best to just support him. It’s his choice, after all.”

Hermione crossed her arms and shook her head, thinking of Harry’s rattled response just earlier that day. He was in no fit condition to see action again. She would have argued this to Ron, but he didn’t know she’d seen it, and didn’t feel like confessing she’d been spying on them.

“I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it… But you’ll have to accept it,” Ron said evenly, though his eyes looked anguished. “You will, won’t you?”

She let out a huff. “I… I will once he’s in the Aurors, but until then, I make no promises.”

“It’s something he has to do,” he said, staring right through her. She’d never seen him so adamant about anything for Harry before. His eyes traced over her face, searching for something. “You can understand that, right?”

“Fine, Ron, I can understand it!” she said with a small eye roll before smiling at him. “Harry’s lucky to have you defend his ridiculous choices.”

He gave a shrug, staring at the ground, looking rather glum.

“Ron, Hermione, dears, come and get some lunch!” Mrs Weasley called from the house.

“No escaping food in the Weasley house,” Hermione murmured, putting a hand into Ron’s that seemed to startle him from his reverie.

“Er right… Better get inside and down a few sandwiches… Need the energy for later tonight,” he said, still looking every inch of him miserable.

“You alright?”

“Just hungry,” he said with a smile. This one didn’t reach his eyes either.

_____________________________________________________ Author’s note: Thank you so much for reading! If you liked it please reblog or review! :D I can’t emphasize how much they motivate me to write more! :D

#Romione #fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #ron weasley #hermione granger #post war #my fics #waking up #chapter 3

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inevitably-johnlocked · 5 years ago

Note

do you have a list of podfic recs? i listen to a lot of @podfixx but she just has so many it’s hard for me to narrow down what to listen to sometimes. i’d love to give other podfic creators a chance too!

Hi Nonny!!

AHHHH Okay so I am a loser and don’t listen to podfics even though I know I would enjoy it for long road trips, but AHHH I don’t I’m so sorry, so I don’t have any PERSONAL recs, so the BEST I can do is give you a list of fics that I know have Podfics for them, since as I go through my bookmarks and update them, I’ve been adding podfic links to them because I like having my lists be as thorough as possible, so this will ALSO give me a chance for authors who know they have podfics of their stories can add them to my recs and I can add them to my offline list LOL

PODFICS

BOOKMARKED FICS

To the Nines by suitesamba (M, 2,724 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Magical Realism, Pining, Angst, John Whump, Time Travel, Fortunes, Time Jumps) – John skips forward in time, and Sherlock reads the signs that point to nine. John knows he’ll eventually be with Sherlock, but the waiting is nearly impossible, and his body is a lot more than transport. A foray into magical realism where all the canon events occur, and a hell of a lot more.

Time on my hands by Mildredandbobbin (M, 7,179 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post S3, One Night Stands, Mutual Pining, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Sexual Exploration / Discovery) – Virginity’s a construct, a concept—what does losing one’s virginity entail for a gay man anyway? Sherlock wants to fill that particular gap in his knowledge but John won’t, can’t, never will assist and there’s only so much desperately unspoken pining even Sherlock can take.

Software Malfunction by tiger_in_the_flightdeck (E, 16,679 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Android Sherlock, Love Story, Unhappy Ending, Angst, Suicide, Jealousy) – “You think I can’t love you? Just because you’re made with metal, and detailed programming?” The doctor propped himself on his elbow, and looked down at it. “I am nothing but blood and bone, and tissue. Things just managed get mashed together in a manner that made me like this. Just like you were put together to make you how you are. When I kiss you-” he did so, briefly, to prove his point. Then more deeply, and lingering, because he could. “When I touch you, or smile at you, does it make you feel different from when others have done it in the past?”

Corpus Hominis by mycapeisplaid (E, 47,709 w., 12 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Case Fic, Fluff, Romance, Frottage, Angst, Anal, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Spas / Massages, Shampoo, Jealousy) - John knows the human body intimately. He’s had plenty of opportunity for study as a doctor, soldier, and lover. There’s one particular body, however, he knows very little about. When Sherlock launches himself head-first into a new obsession and they get sent on a case in an unlikely location, the pair discovers each other’s bodies with confusing yet delightful (and sometimes hilarious) results.

Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary’s wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn’t exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues – just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

Albion and the Woodsman by Glenmore (NR [E], 54,437 w., 50 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post S3, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst, Family, Drug Use, Depression, Sherlock POV, Light Humour, Reconnecting, Declarations of Love) – Sherlock and John are devastated after Mary Morstan makes her final moves. Sherlock relapses at the crack house, John walks around the world … and a lot happens in between. Parentlock, in the good way.

The Vapor Variant by 88thParallel (CanadaHolm) (M, 72,684 w., 18 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-THoB, John Whump, Protective Sherlock, Guilty Sherlock, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD John, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Suspense, Virus, Sickfic, Big Brother Mycroft) – They stood face to face in the middle of a clearing. The dim light of the moon barely allowed Sherlock to see the glassy terror in John’s eyes and the sweat that glistened off his forehead. His nose was bleeding again, blood dripping in a slow stream from his right nostril. They were both gasping for air, John’s eyes locked on Sherlock’s. There was no recognition there, just wild animal fear. Time stood still for an eternal few seconds, and Sherlock took a shaky breath. “John—”Spell broken, John spun and bolted back into the woods. Still heaving for air, Sherlock took off after him.

The Heart In The Whole by verityburns (E, 101,650 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TGG Canon Divergence, Drama & Angst, H/C, First Time, Blind Sherlock) – Events after ‘The Great Game’ leave Sherlock dependent on his best friend and colleague. But John has a secret of his own…

The Wedding Garments by cwb (E, 105,390 w., 36 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate Future AU || Alternate First Meeting, Dating / Arranged Marriages, Romance, First Kiss/Time, Heavy Petting, Cuddles, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Dev. Rel., Nervous/Anxious Sherlock, Jealous/Cranky, Hiking, Vacation Homes / Honeymoon, Sherlock’s Family, Horny John/Sherlock, Patient John, Massages, Hand Jobs, Assassination Plots, Hand Jobs / Oral Sex, Case Fic, Emotional Love Making, Bath Time Fun) – This is the story of a young consulting detective who wants nothing to do with marriage and an army doctor who wants to find true love. It’s 2020 post-Brexit England and the British government is encouraging arranged marriages. Candidates meet through state-run agencies and date in hopes of finding love (and tax benefits). Sherlock doesn’t need or want a spouse, at least not until John Watson shows up. Hesitant to give in to his more carnal urges because of the way they derail his mind, how will Sherlock progress toward the more intimate aspects of a relationship? The answer lies in a very special wedding gift.

Shatter the Darkness (Let the Light In) by MojoFlower (E, 109,683 w., 23 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Genie/Djinn AU || Magical Realism, Kidnapping, Genie Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Case Fic, H/C, Angst, Clubs, John Whump, Mild DubCon, Hand / Blow Jobs, Torture) – Fairy tales are for those who remember how to dream; not John Watson, broken and hiding from his bleak future in a beige bedsit. But then he discovers a lamp and finds himself in the dangerous riptide of an enigmatic man whose very existence is unbelievable, murder charges against his sister, and the growing pains of feeling alive once more.

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it’s a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

Performance In a Leading Role by Mad_Lori (E, 156,714 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Hollywood / Actor AU, Secret Relationship, Falling in Love, Slow Burn, Romance, Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, Pining) – Sherlock Holmes is an Oscar winner in the midst of a career slump. John Watson is an Everyman actor trapped in the rom-com ghetto. When they are cast as a gay couple in a new independent drama, will they surprise each other? Will their on-screen romance make its way into the real world? Part 1 of Performance in a Leading Role

Gimme Shelter by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 159,368 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || 70′s Surfer AU || Period Typical Homophobia, Hawaii, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Professional Surfers, Gay John / Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John was a Sailor, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining) – All John Watson wants is the feeling of a freshly waxed surfboard under his feet and the hot California sun baking down onto his back. To finally go pro in the newly formed world of professional surfing and leave the dark memories of his past behind him as he rips across the face of a towering blue barrel. To lounge beside the beach bonfire every evening with an ice cold beer tucked into the cool sand beside him and listen to Pink Floyd and the Doors while the saltwater dries in his sun bleached hair. That’s all he wants, that is, until the hot young phenom taking Oahu and the Hawaiian shores by storm steps up next to him in the sand in the second round of the 1976 International Surf Competition. (PUBLISHED AS ‘The Sea Ain’t Mine Alone’)

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

“TO READ” FICS

Curlock by 88thParallel (G, 1,285 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Sherlock’s Hair, Fluff, Ficlet) – How Sherlock learned to control and appreciate the incredible gift he was born with, and the man who helped him sort it out.

Letters, the Writing of by earlgreytea68 (G, 2,416 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF/Hiatus) – While he’s dead, Sherlock writes John letters. Part 1 of the Letters series

Let’s Say I Let You In by kedgeree (E, 9,972 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Halloween, Costume Kink, Est. Rel., Humour, Smut, Vampire Sherlock, Bloodplay, Biting, Romance) – It’s Halloween and Sherlock’s vampire costume is turning John on, but Sherlock doesn’t quite get the idea of a sexy vampire. At least…not at first. Part 4 of the Holidays series

Almost Home by Berty (E, 13,871 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate First Meeting, Captain John, Pining John, University Student Sherlock, Gay Bar, First Time, Anal, Mutual Masturbation, Protective Big Brother Mycroft, POV John, Time Skips, Memories, Angst With Happy Ending) – He pulls out the ID card – the one that Sherlock had somehow seen when he was buying drinks at that awful club. He’s had other ID cards since then but he’s hung on to this one for some reason. He looks at the image of his face, young and pale and idealistic, and he knows that just a month later that man would have found and lost the love of his life within a week, and even knowing that, John wouldn’t change a single thing.

Heart on a String by AngelSpirit (E, 23,257 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate First Meeting, First Kiss / Time, Infidelity, Angst, Fluff, Kidlock/Teenlock, Mentions of Recreational Drug Use) – John and Sherlock got married with Cracker Jack rings when they were 7 yrs old. It wasn’t official, but for their whole lives they took it very seriously.

Common Tongues: Unassuming Brilliance by jinglebell (E, 41,174 w., 11 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Anal, Rimming, Snowballing, Language Kink, Blow Jobs, BAMF John, Size Difference, Height Difference, Sapiosexual Sherlock, Barebacking, Size Queen) – John may be predictably average in most things, but there are a handful of areas in which he knows he is uncommonly skilled. He can make a great cup of tea, for one. He’s also good at patching folks up, putting bullets precisely where he wants them, and listening.The one skill that John is perhaps most exceptional in, though, is language. John is a polyglot.

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 43,936 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Time, Post-TRF) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns. Post-Reichenbach.

Command Structure by 221b_hound (E, 49,034 w., 16 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post TRF / Not S3 Compliant, Dom/Sub Play, Dom John/Sub Sherlock, Oral/Anal, Anal Fingering, Frottage, Past Child Abuse, Anxiety Attacks, Captain Watson, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Protective John, Slow Build, PTSD Sherlock, Consensual, Past Dub Con, Rimming) – Sherlock Holmes returns from his hunt to destroy Moriarty’s network. He comes home to John, and at long last they start this thing between them that couldn’t begin while Moriarty threatened them. But Sherlock has returned fractured and suffering anxiety attacks. He thinks he needs discipline - the whip - to help him focus and be strong. But his problems are deeper and run back to a childhood of neglect. John Watson is prepared to be Sherlock’s Captain, but he’s a doctor too. His command style isn’t about pain and subjugation. It’s about care and responsibility: and those concepts go in both directions in Captain Watson’s command structure.

Saccharomyces cerevisiae (Baker’s Yeast) by yaycoffee (E, 60,879 w., 13 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Unplanned Pregnancy / One Night Stand, Drunken Sex, First Kiss/Time, Bit of Case Fic, Sally/Sherlock Drunk Sex First Ch.) – Sometimes, one makes an imprudent decision born of a devastating combination of drink and sentiment. Sometimes, the consequences of that decision take on a life of their own. And sometimes, the facing of those consequences shapes every aspect of one’s life–from the hugely meaningful down to the seemingly insignificant. Part 1 of the Knows His Own series

Perpetual Motion by Fay (orphan_account) (E, 75,789 w., 31 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Romance, Unconventional Relationship, Renegotiation of Boundaries, Virgin Sherlock, Changing Sexuality, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Exhibitionism/Voyeurism, Sex Toys, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Humour, Grieving, Light Bondage, First Kiss / Time, Hand Jobs, Quarrels, Shower Sex, Pillow Humping/Frottage, Oral Sex, Slight Self-Harm, Chastity Device) – Everyone thinks that they’re a couple, but Sherlock’s self-sexual and John’s straight, so they’re never going to fall in love, are they? Even if neither of them can imagine life without the other.

The Blog of Eugenia Watson by Mad_Lori (G, 95,026 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || OC POV, Parentlock, Teenagers, Diary / Blogging / Journal, Family, Humour) – I like to think of this not so much as a blog but as the first draft of my inevitably best-selling memoirs. My Life In an Unconventional Family. How unconventional? Well, I live with my divorced parents and my dad’s husband. How’s that for starters? Trust me, it gets weirder.My name is Eugenia Watson, but you can call me Genie. I’m sixteen. This is my life. Note: Work is marked complete for now and is on hiatus, having reached a convenient stopping point. Additional chapters may be added in the future.

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU || BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn’t truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes.” Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

Drift Compatible by J_Baillier (E, 130.380 w., 26 Ch. || Pacific Rim Fusion || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate First Meeting, Angst, Family Drama, Accidental Telepathic Voyeurism, Martial Arts, Sci-Fi, Internalised Homophobia, Rubbish Siblings, Army Doctor John, Medical H/C, Bullying, Neurodiversity, PTSD, Drug Use, Depression, Mourning, Adventure, Hurt/Comfort, UST/URT) – A washed out war hero struggling with his past. A prodigy who wants nothing to do with his family legacy. Both are looking for something—and someone—worth fighting for in a world where human civilisation is constantly under threat.

Nature and Nurture by earlgreytea68 (M, 203,273 w., 57 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Parentlock, Cloning, Kidlock, Dev. Rel.) – The British Government accidentally clones Sherlock Holmes. Which brings a baby to 221B Baker Street. Part 1 of Nature & Nurture

Radioactive Trees In A Red Forest by Maribor_Petrichor (E, 280,251 w., 73 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S4, Suicidal Ideations, Alcohol / Rx Drug Abuse, Coming Out / Bisexual John, Seizures, Past/Referenced/Implied Child Abuse, Hallucinations, Rehab, Celibacy, Sobriety / Relapse, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Psychological Trauma, Nice /Not Anti-Mary, John’s POV, Parentlock, First Time, Angst, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending) – John Watson is what happens when a man can no longer see a reason to go on. John Watson is what happens when a man starts to let go. “It is what it is.” John Watson is what happens when what “it is” becomes too much to bear. This is a story of the life, death, and resurrection of John Hamish Watson.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #podfics #my fic recs #Anonymous #fic rec sunday

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zutaradreams · 5 years ago

Text

Day 14: Dao Swords

Continued from Day 13: Folktale. Happy Valentine’s Day, y’all!

AO3

@zutaramonth The third night came, and it was all the agony of the first two nights and more. He tried to think of Katara, of how he came closer to breaking the curse after every second. He prayed for unconsciousness. He prayed to wake up and run away with his freed princess. Once he heard the familiar ringing in his ears and felt the call of sleep throbbing through his head, he answered it readily.

He woke to Katara whispering sweet praises in his ear. “You did it. You broke the curse.”

“I did?”

“Yes,” she answered tearfully. “I’m free, Zuko. Thank you. Thank you so much.” She kissed him tenderly. It was the loveliest kiss he’d ever known. He held Katara in his arms, relieved that it was finally over, excited to start his life with her, but all too soon she pulled away from.

“I have to go for a few days,” she told him. “My father’s calling me back, but when I return, it will be as a proper princess to come get you and bring you home with me.”

“You mean we’ll be apart?”

“Just for a little while,” she promised. “We’ll be married in no time.”

He leaned forward to kiss her again, to seal her words with his lips, but in a heartbeat, she disappeared. In her place appeared a blue staff engraved with words he didn’t understand. Immediately, however, he knew what to do with it. He took the staff in his hand and leaped to his feet, letting them guide him to the hall where the sleeping men lay. One by one, he took the staff and touched each of the men with it, spurring them to wake. Eventually, he found Jet sleeping, and woke him.

Zuko did his best to explain about Katara and why the men had been trapped in the castle.

“I’ve been asleep for days?”

“Yes, Jet. Now go. Get out of the castle.”

“I can’t just wander the desert by myself. Come with me.”

Zuko refused. “I’m waiting for the Princess.”

“So let me get this straight. Beautiful princess says if you take a beating for three nights, her curse will break, and you’ll get to marry her and inherit her father’s kingdom. Then the beautiful princess disappears when you break the curse, and you really think she’s going to come back?”

“Get out of the castle,” he repeated, though Jet’s words did breathe life into the doubts he’d tried to suppress. What if Katara had used him?

After all the men had left the castle, Zuko became overwhelmed with the events of the night and went to sleep. The next morning, he was surprised to find a bald boy with blue tattoos all over his body sitting at his feet and watching him sleep.

Zuko shrieked in surprise. “Where did you come from?” he shouted.

The boy smiled. “Oh, wow, you’re angry. I’m Aang.”

“How did you get here?”

Aang shrugged. “Katara sent me.”

“Katara? Is she here?”

“No, she’s not here. She sent me ahead to get you ready. She says you have to be out on the castle steps by noon when she gets here. Now that her curse is broken, she can’t enter the castle again, so it’s very important that you’re outside,” he emphasized.

“She’ll be here at noon? What time is it now?”

“A little after ten. You have time. I made breakfast if you’re interested.”

Once Aang mentioned breakfast, Zuko realized how hungry he was. “Sure, thanks. That sounds great.”

“Cool, I can’t wait for you to try this.” A bowl was pushed in front of him, and it smelled sweet like honey. It was some kind of grain, mashed and cooked and sweetened. One spoonful wasn’t enough to sate him; he devoured the whole bowl of it within minutes.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Just an old recipe. Good, right?”

“Really good.” Then Zuko’s eyes fluttered. He fought it at first, but the temptation to sleep became too strong. He slumped to the floor. When his eyes opened, the sun was gone from the sky, and Aang was watching him again. Zuko jerked up.

“Katara!” he called, remembering.

“She’s already gone. She was pretty upset when you weren’t outside. She said you have one more chance at noon tomorrow. Then the castle’s going to disappear, and you’ll never be allowed to find her again, or something like that.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” he growled, feeling the effects of grogginess and despair.

“I tried. You wouldn’t wake up.”

“I can’t risk that happening again. I won’t sleep again until I see her.”

“Suit yourself.”

Zuko watched the moon through the castle’s windows. It rose higher and higher in the sky, and the stars shone along with it. Soon enough, they disappeared completely from view as the world kept on turning and the sun reappeared to light the sky. Only a few more hours, and then he would be reunited with Katara. Only a few more hours to the beginning of their life together.

“Have you had anything to eat or drink?” asked Aang.

“No, I don’t want anything until I see Katara.”

“But your body needs something. You wouldn’t want to pass out and miss your chance with Katara. I’ll bring you some water at least.”

Zuko conceded to the urging of this odd boy and drank the cup of water he gave him. Then the same feeling as the day before washed over him, and he realized gravely, “You’re drugging me.”

“I’m sorry,” said Aang. “You’re not supposed to be with Katara.”

He felt nothing but rage as the world went black.

The moon was shining down on him. Cool sand bristled against his cheek. He already knew he’d missed Katara. He sat up and saw that the castle had disappeared from sight completely. There was nothing around him but the bleak desert. Then he spotted the glimmering swords by his side. Two dao swords had been left beside him, still in their sheaths. He removed the first carefully and beheld the most beautiful weapon he had ever seen. He knew they were a gift from Katara. He knew his absence had broken her heart. It had broken his heart too. Then he spied the characters engraved in the sword’s pommel. These were not like the ones on the blue staff. These he could read. And they said, Come and find me in the Blue Mountains.

He laughed, taking heart again. He would find Katara. He just had to find these Blue Mountains first. He strapped the swords to his back and wandered through the desert, away from where the war was waging on, surviving on nothing but the milk of desert plants. He sliced through the prickly layer with his swords and grasped the plant carefully to drink from. The milk was rich enough to keep him going.

On the outermost boundary of the desert, right before the beginning of the river lands, he stumbled upon a single home with a lantern lit inside. He knocked on the door, hoping whoever lived there could lead him in the right direction.

“Well, hello, there. Name’s Dock.”

“Zuko. Nice to meet you. Would you by chance know anything about the Blue Mountains?”

Dock’s face lit up. “Well, son, you’ve come to the right place. I have a book that contains the history of the whole world. I can look through it tonight, and if there’s any mention of the Blue Mountains, I can find it.”

Zuko exhaled in relief, marveling at his luck. “Thank you.”

Dock offered him some fish for dinner. Zuko had hoped the fish would be cooked when he accepted, but he soon learned that hunger drove a man to eat things he wouldn’t eat before, though the raw fish left an odd taste in his mouth.

“Okay, so I looked through the book. There’s not a word about the Blue Mountains.”

Zuko slammed his head against Dock’s table. “Not one word?”

“Nope. But I’ll tell you what, if such a place exists, my brother will know. He is the only one in the world smarter than I am.”

“I thought you said your book was a complete history of the world.”

“It is, but my brother has the revised edition. He’ll know.”

“Well, how far away is he from here?”

“Nine hundred miles,” Dock answered, as if nine hundred miles equated to a stone’s throw from the kitchen.

“Nine hundred miles?”

“Don’t stress it, son. One blow of my whistle, and you’ll be at my brother’s in an instant. Just watch.”

The whistle rang through the air, and Zuko was sitting at another kitchen table in front of a man who looked absolutely identical to Dock. “Dock?”

“Dock? Do I look like Dock to you?”

“Uh, yes.”

“Well, Dock’s my brother. I’m Xu. So what can I do for you?”

“I’m trying to find the Blue Mountains. Dock told me if anyone knew about them, it was you.”

“Well you’re in luck. You see, I’ve got a book, and it just so happens that this book-“

“-contains a complete history of the world. Dock told me.”

“The revised edition,” amended Xu.

“Right. The revised edition.”

“I’ll just go grab it and take a look through the index. I bet Dock didn’t look through the index. He’s known to do that--it’s why he has to keep directing people to me. What use is it to have a great book of knowledge and then ignore the index?”

“How terrible,” offered Zuko drily.

“Let’s see. B, Bindu City, Blue Bay, Blue Island, Blue Lagoon, yep, Blue Mountains!”

Zuko jumped to his feet. “Where?” He demanded, feeling as hopeful as when he first noticed the writing on his dao sword.

Xu’s face contorted as he scanned the page. “It doesn’t say.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t say?” demanded Zuko.

“It doesn’t say where the Blue Mountains are, only that the princess of the kingdom was enchanted by a terrible curse.”

“I already know all about that. I broke the curse. I’m supposed to be with the princess, but some bald kid drugged me and she disappeared.”

“That’s quite a sequence of events.”

“I. Know.” he groaned. “I wish she’d left me a map instead.”

“The princess left you something?”

Zuko removed the dao swords from their place on his back. “These,” he said. “They tell me to find her in the Blue Mountains.”

Xu inspected the fine steel of the first sword, noting the engraving of the pommel. “These are finely forged,” he said as he examined them. “You were probably too distracted by that to notice these characters on the blade.”

Zuko’s pulse quickened. “Show me.”

“Here.” Xu held the first dao up to the light and showed Zuko characters written in the same language as the ones on the staff that he had not been able to read. The second dao had different characters in the same spot on the blade as the first.

“Can you read them?”

“Yes, but I can’t translate it.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

Xu rolled his eyes. “This is an old, old language. As old as the spirits. I know the basic sounds the characters make, but that doesn’t mean I can derive meaning from them.”

“Then how come the blade is written in the ancient language, and the pommel is written in today’s?”

Xu smiled, revealing yellowed teeth. “I would bet whatever’s written on this blade is magic, and that’s why it doesn’t translate.” The old man touched his finger to the indecipherable characters. “Hmm. I wonder.”

Then Xu’s mouth began to form the words:

Bǎ tā dài dào dàhǎi yǔ tiānkōng xiāngyù dì dìfāng. Bǎ tā dài dào chuàngzuò zhě zài wǒmen zhōngjiān xíngzǒu dì dìfāng. Dài tā qù lán shān shānmài.

Suddenly Zuko was very sleepy. Again.

He woke coughing, expelling the burning seawater from his lungs. Around him he heard the crashing waves of the sea. His whole body felt damp, though the sun above warmed him. When he looked around, he noticed mountains on the other side of the beach, covered in grasses of the most beautiful shade of blue. They were as blue as Katara’s eyes. I’m here, he realized. I made it. When he stood up to his feet, he saw for the first time a castle on the highest point of one of the mountains. Even from his distance, he knew the castle was identical to the one he’d found Katara in so long ago.

Though he was soaked to the bone, he trudged forward, light as a feather. Zuko walked miles and miles up the path on the side of the mountain. He was the talk of the village, apparently. Everyone wanted to know who he was and how he came here. It would seem the Blue Mountains didn’t receive much in the way of foot traffic. No one was ever just passing through.

“Do you think it’s him?” he heard one child say to another.

“Who?”

“You know, the man Princess Katara is going to marry.”

“I don’t think it’s him.”

Zuko almost laughed.

When he arrived at the entrance of the castle, Zuko requested an audience with Princess Katara.

“The Princess is busy today. Come back tomorrow,” the guards told him.

Zuko did not move. “What is she doing?”

“She’s preparing for her wedding.”

“I’m the groom!” Zuko shouted at them. “Find her and tell her that I’m here. I made it to the Blue Mountains. Go tell her I found her!”

One hurried off while the other kept Zuko outside the entrance. He even tried to send Zuko away again, but he would not budge. He was not moving his feet from their place until he saw Katara.

And then he saw her. She looked even more beautiful in daylight. Brown hair spilled down her back in waves. Blue eyes shined at him, glistening with happy tears. Perfect lips formed his name in disbelief. She threw herself into his arms, and he was all too happy to catch her.

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting?” she asked.

“As long as I’ve been looking.”

They had waited long enough. They married the very next day.

#zutara #zutaradreams #zutaramonth #zutaramonth2020 #day14

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inmyownlittlecorner5 · 4 years ago

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libera nos a malo Chapter 5: Mari Lwyd

A fanfic Novel by la-topolina

Rated for Mature Audiences

Warnings: Language, Violence, Sexual Content

Chapter 5/20

libera nos a malo masterpost+

unstoppable force/immovable object masterpost+

<< Chapter Four+

Chapter Six+ >>

“Mira, are you ready yet?” demanded Finn.

“Almost. Are we late?” Miranda replied as she dawdled in the bathroom, braiding her hair and adjusting her cloche hat. Since she’d been a child she’d been slower than molasses on Sunday mornings, and today was no exception. Driving her brother insane was just a side benefit.

“Seeing as you can get us there in an eye wink, not yet. But in another five minutes we will be.”

“How long do you think we’ll be out?” she asked, half to herself. “I should probably pack my evening regimen in case I need it.”

“Good God, woman! Do you ever plan ahead?”

“Sometimes.”

Finn muttered under his breath while she moseyed to the potions closet. She took her sweet time selecting the vials and balms, being sure to charm them against breakage before putting them in her woven handbag. While she was double checking her list, a terse knock and the sound of the cabin door opening broke her concentration completely.

“Howdy stranger,” Finn said, sounding entertained and frustrated together. “Sis, it’s your boyfriend. You comin’ with us?”

“It would appear so,” Severus replied.

His tone was so neutral that, without the benefit of his facial expression (however subtle it tended to be) Miranda could not tell what had possessed her lover this morning. A volatile combination of pleasure, surprise, confusion, and exasperation coiled itself in her chest, like an adder ready to strike; and it took her some minutes to master herself, lest she embarrass him by too great a show of affection in front of her brother. Sometimes Severus reminded her of a skittish colt; one that had been hurt one too many times and required a firm but measured touch.

She did allow herself a satisfied smile when she came out into the main room and saw that the Englishman had taken the trouble of dressing in his No-Maj-style Sunday best. In his well-cut gray suit with his hair pulled back he was a pleasing study of angles and lines; even if he was a trifle on the thin side from lack of care. His dark eyes were brewing with a mixture of resignation and irritation; but they warmed when they made contact with hers. It was a little thing, but it was enough.

“I’m glad you came,” she said simply.

He gave her the barest of nods, and Finn muttered something she didn’t quite catch but that she thought included the accusation “moon-eyes.” To her surprise, Severus offered her his arm, and she took it eagerly, ignoring her brother’s amused snort.

“Seein’ as now we are late, do you think we could get a move on?” Finn asked as he pushed past them and out the cabin door.

“Relax, Finn,” Miranda replied. “If we get there by the Sanctus bell, it counts.”

“Good thing, too,” he said, but the grin he gave her over his shoulder bespoke his good humor over the familiar situation.

It was an unseasonably warm winter day; one of those false springs that give rise to foolish hopes, no matter how bleak the times. At the end of the lane Finn reached out to take his sister’s hand, and the three of them disappeared together.

*****

Miranda’s knees buckled when they appeared behind the squat stone church where it crouched like a lopsided mushroom sprung up in the sandy soil; and Severus was quick to slip his arm around her waist to keep her from collapsing completely. Landanwg was far enough from her cabin that she’d had to Apparate them all to a half-way point before making the final plunge, and the effort had literally taken her breath away. She panted, clinging to Severus’s sleeve while her magic spilled out of her like blood from a wound.

“You alright?” Finn asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

“I just need a minute,” she snapped, frustrated by her weakness. “Go on ahead. I know you hate being late to Mass.”

Finn looked dubious until Severus insisted, “Go. I have her.”

“Fine. But if y’all ain’t in there in ten minutes I’ll be comin’ out after you,” Finn warned as he set off for the front of the church.

When her brother was out of sight, Miranda allowed her head to rest on Severus’s shoulder, and he pulled her close as though he might help her put herself back together by force of will. Her head was still spinning from the trip, but as she forcibly slowed her breathing, she could feel her magic start to wind itself back into her core.

“Are you steady now?” Severus asked after she’d stopped trembling.

“I think so,” she replied, smiling up at him. “We’d better go in before we miss the whole thing.”

“Indeed.”

It was later than she’d thought it was, and the little church was filled to the gills. Severus’s arm tensed under her hand, and she knew he was irritated at being put in the unwanted position of disturbing the proceedings; but he soldiered through the embarrassment, leading her up the middle of the simple room where Finn was saving a spot for them both. They managed to settle themselves on the worn pew just in time for the Sanctus bell; and Severus sat rigidly upright as Miranda and Finn knelt on either side of him.

As the minutes ticked by, Miranda’s mind started to wander; and not even the hearty Tantum Ergo sung by the tiny, but stalwart choir could help her bring it under control. Soon she spotted Rachel pacing in an alcove with a very squirmy baby in arms, and she made good on her escape from the tedium of the pew.

“I’m going to go help Rachel with the baby,” Miranda whispered to her disgruntled lover, and was up and away before he could fully register his displeasure with the arrangement.

“Good morning Maggie, you look smashing today,” Miranda said when she reached her goal.

Maggie babbled a string of vowels attached to the letter B and reached for her godmother.

“Thanks,” whispered Rachel distractedly as Miranda scooped the child into her arms and began arranging the frothy pink skirts of the little one’s Sunday dress.

“Yes, that is an angel right there on the wall,” Miranda said, following Maggie’s gaze and guessing at her babbled questions. “Oh, and look! Here’s a little daffodil along the window. Isn’t it nice?”

“I didn’t know Severus was coming with you today,” Rachel murmured, looking rather distressed.

“I didn’t either. He showed up right before we left.” Miranda whispered back. “I hope it’s not a problem he’s here.”

“No! That is, it wouldn’t be, except for Robert.”

“Robert? Robert Walker? What’s Severus’s being here got to do with him?”

“He invited himself along.”

“He didn’t.” Miranda’s eyes quickly scanned the room, and there indeed was Robert Walker, standing shoulder to shoulder with Aaron at the far end of the front pew.

“If I’d known Severus was coming, I would’ve put Robert off.”

“It’s not your fault,” Miranda reassured her, even as her heart started to pound. She had no idea how far she could trust the Ambassador, and today was not the day that she wanted to find out. “We’ll think of something.”

Even as she made this empty boast, the Mass ended, and the congregants streamed out of their pews with their Deo Gratiases barely out of their mouths. There was nothing the Americans could do besides be swept along with them, and Miranda winced as she caught sight of Aaron, Robert, Finn, and Severus coming together with the terrible inevitability of a train wreck. Aaron’s face was as flushed as hers felt, and the last thing she witnessed before the movement of the crowd brushed her outside to await the damage was Robert sticking his hand out to Severus in friendly expectation of being introduced.

The ladies extricated themselves from the flood of humanity and gathered together beneath an old ash tree. Rachel started tugging Maggie’s little cloak in place, and Miranda fussed with the folds of it in order to give vent to her nerves.

“I’m so sorry,” Rachel said.

“Don’t be sorry, you didn’t know,” Miranda replied. “But when they get out here, follow Severus’s lead. He’ll have come up with some sort of cover, I’m sure of it.”

“Right.”

Maggie was squirming in Miranda’s arms and would not be content until Rachel took her back. Miranda regretted letting go of the child, though. Now she could only watch with growing apprehension for the men to exit the church.

“Are you ever going to tell me what that man really does?” asked Rachel, putting on a brave smile and encouraging Miranda to do the same.

“I hope so. But not today.”

They caught sight of their party at last, and Rachel busied herself with putting Maggie in the baby-carrier and fastening all the ties. Miranda kept her face as immobile as possible, fairly confident that she looked less anxious than she felt. Aaron’s smile was obviously forced, Robert’s expression was enigmatically pleasant; Severus’s face was blank except for the periodic twitch of an eyebrow, and Finn looked like he’d never been more amused in his life. Her brother gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before walking a little downwind of them in order to light up a cigarette. She’d be joining him as soon as humanly possible.

“Miss Rose, what a pleasant surprise,” Severus said with a suavity that she’d not realized he possessed. “I did not know you were such a close confidante of the Lees.”

“It’s a small world,” she replied in kind. “Nice to see you in the open air.”

“Likewise.” He turned to Rachel, effectively dismissing Miranda. “Rachel, I thank you for the invitation, and for the most recent pages of the Nagasaki potion text. It is truly fascinating reading.”

“You’re so welcome, Severus!” Rachel replied, her voice a little too high. “And thank you for joining us.”

“Miranda! Good to see you this fine morning,” Robert said, shaking her hand and flashing her a grin that reminded her uncomfortably of the Cheshire cat.

“Good morning, Robert. I didn’t know you’d be here,” she replied, pleased at the way she kept her observation from sounding at all pointed. Severus, if he noticed, didn’t show it; and he determinedly engaged Rachel’s attention about potion minutiae.

“Wouldn’t miss it. It’s been too long since I’ve been down to Wales.”

“I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m starving,” said Aaron, sweeping in and taking charge of the situation.

“You read my mind,” Robert replied. “Where do we get a bite around here?”

“There’s a little pub over yonder. The cawl there’s not to be beat.”

Robert and Aaron set off at a good pace, and soon were deep in a conversation about Embassy matters that were of no interest to anyone but them. Rachel, Maggie, and Severus fell in behind them, still discussing the potions text, and Miranda allowed herself to linger behind with her brother. Finn handed her a cigarette, and as soon as the others were out of sight, he let out a boom of laughter that he’d obviously been restraining for some time. Miranda couldn’t help but join him.

“That boyfriend of yours is quick on his feet,” Finn said when they’d recovered enough to set off towards the pub.

“It’s one of his better qualities,” she replied.

“I hate to say this, but I think I’m starting to like him. Maybe you oughta try not to fuck this one up.”

She rolled her eyes. “Maybe you oughta keep your opinions to yourself.”

He let out a low whistle. “Fuck me runnin’, it is serious.”

“As a heart attack,” she said, letting the sarcasm sharpen her words to protect the grain of truth inside.

Finn shook his head at her, but minded his tongue for the time being, apparently pleased to have harried his sister into admitting even part of the whole.

*****

“I don’t think I could eat another bite if you paid me,” Robert groaned, pushing his chair back from the wide table littered with empty plates. “Good call on the restaurant, Aaron.”

“I thought you’d like it,” Aaron replied.

Maggie babbled her agreement from her perch on her father’s lap while Rachel took the opportunity to finish the last of the eggs on her plate. She and Severus had been deep in a heady potion debate since the group had left the church, and Miranda had to admit that she was impressed by his performance so far.

“What’s next on the agenda?” Robert asked.

“We should take a walk down on the beach since it’s not too cold,” Aaron replied. “Rachel and Maggie were hoping to see some seals.”

“I’ll meet you down there,” Finn said, finishing his coffee. “After I’ve had a look in Mari Lwyd for that album Seamus wants.”

“I’ll come with you,” Miranda said.

“I would not be adverse to perusing the shop with your party,” Severus said.

“Then it’s settled,” Rachel said. “Robert, why don’t you come down with us, and the others can catch up later.”

Robert’s eyes were on the wad of Muggle currency that he was counting as he replied, “I think I’ll head over to the shop first. But you go on ahead. Then you’ll be ready to give us the grand tour when we get there.”

Miranda stifled a groan and Severus continued to appear blandly polite, as though he spent all his Sundays on excursions with people he supposedly barely knew. Rachel mouthed an “I’m sorry” behind Robert’s back when they rose from the table, and the group split in two with the Lees heading away from the little town towards the shore, and the rest of them winding up the narrow streets to the shop. Robert took the spot next to Miranda, leaving Finn to walk with Severus, and even though the Ambassador kept up a steady stream of conversation, she fancied she could sense Severus’s silent irritation emanating from his person. She was never going to hear the end of this.

The Mari Lwyd was a squat little building, and would have been lost in the crowd of similar gray stone companions, except that she boasted a bleached-white equine skull strapped to the end of a long stick above her door. It took Miranda a moment to realize that the bizarre thing was a hobby-horse (albeit a grotesque one). The inside was crammed with an odd collection of ghastly hobby-horses, clownish marionettes, No-Maj records, musical paraphernalia ranging from the practical to the sublime; as well as a staggering number of bookshelves that were packed to the gills with dusty books. Severus excused himself (and politely too!) and escaped into the maze of literature, and Robert let him go without a glance. For all the inanity of Robert’s questions (What baseball team do you follow? Ever been out to California?) Miranda had the distinct feeling that she was being cross-examined, although she was aware that she might simply be irritated with Robert for becoming an unintentional third (fourth?) wheel.

Finn zipped off to do business with the ancient shopkeep; but once he’d secured Seamus’s prize, he took pity on his sister by engaging Robert in a humorous debate on whether Quidditch or baseball were the superior sport (baseball, obviously). As the two men talked and explored the contents of the record bins near the front of the store, Miranda slipped away, ostensibly picking over the novels further inside. Near the back of the shop, she discovered an open door leading to a basement filled with more towers of books; and as she descended the stairs she found Severus reading a thick tome, apparently oblivious to the world around him.

Something told her that apologizing about the current situation would only further annoy him, and so she simply said, “You handled yourself splendidly this morning.”

He replied without glancing up, “Of course I did. What kind of spy did you think I was?”

She started exploring the stack of books next to his, careful to give him plenty of elbow room. “I think you know I’ve always thought highly of your abilities with regards to espionage.”

He seemed to grow several inches under the light of her praise.

“Whenever I take it into my mind to do something spontaneous, it never fails to end in disaster,” he observed with an ironic smirk.

“I hope you won’t let it stop you from trying.”

He brushed past her, and she felt his lips drop onto the back of her neck for an instant, causing a pleasant shiver to run down her spine.

“One would think that today’s lesson would be sufficient to prevent such foolish decisions in the future. Unfortunately I do not seem to retain such lessons consistently.”

“That does sound troublesome.”

“I assure you, it is.”

He did not linger, and she supposed it was for the best. If they’d gotten this far into the day without arousing Robert’s suspicion, maybe it wasn’t too much to hope that they would get out of this unscathed. She dawdled in the basement until she had a stack of curious novels almost too high to carry; and when she emerged from below to purchase them, the others were nowhere to be found. The shopkeep was quick about his work, and she was more annoyed than concerned to have been left behind. When she had her books packed away in a sturdy paper sack, she went out into the weak light of the afternoon.

“There you are,” she said, spotting the men loitering in a narrow lane next to the shop.

“Took you long enough,” Finn said, brandishing one of the deathly hobby horses. “Like it? I think I’ll give it to Susan for her birthday.”

“You would.” Miranda shrank her books with a quick wand flick, and stuffed the diminutive shopping bag into her hand bag before any uninitiated No-Majs could notice. “Are you ready to head down to the shore professor?”

Severus had taken a seat on a low stone wall, and was deep in the same book he’d been reading in the shop. But he nodded distractedly, “That would be agreeable.”

“I wonder if they’ve found any seals yet,” Robert commented as they started towards the main street.

A shining hummingbird darted into their midst, and Miranda had to blink before she realized it was Rachel’s patronus and not an overbold animal.

“There’s a giant down by the sea caves. We could use a hand.” Rachel’s voice said with the bird’s mouth.

Everyone started talking at once.

“A giant?” asked Robert.

“Of all the…” muttered Miranda

“Hoo boy!” whooped Finn.

“Did any of you get a good enough look at where they went to Apparate us to them?” Severus demanded.

“No,” Miranda admitted.

“I didn’t,” said Robert. “And there’s probably too many No-Majs around to take the risk.”

“Of course,” sneered Severus. “We wouldn’t want to disturb the Muggles with a bit of Apparition when there are giants wandering about their shores.”

“Pardon me, professor,” Robert said, his voice a tad too edgy to be truly polite. “I’ll leave the potioning to you, and you leave the international law to me.”

Miranda could see that Severus was about to completely lose his temper, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. She grabbed Finn’s arm, dragging him away from the argument.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she asked, scanning the lonely lane for a likely prospect.

“I sure as fuck hope so,” Finn replied gleefully.

“That black one over by the hedgerow?”

“That’s the one.”

Finn set off towards the hedgerow as inconspicuously as a man with one arm and a skull-headed hobby-horse slung over his shoulder could possibly do, while Miranda inserted herself between the arguing wizards, cutting them off in mid riposte.

“Sorry to break up your fun, gentlemen, but I think we’ve found an answer to our problem,” she said.

“Action would certainly be preferable to continuing this inane altercation,” Severus replied.

“I’m all ears, Miss Rose. And I wouldn’t mind seeing you earn some of that money I’m paying you,” Robert said irritably.

She ignored the dig and took the ambassador by the arm, half leading and half dragging him up the lane while Severus followed alongside. “Finn’s gone ahead, and we’ll be on top of him in less than a minute. When we get there, you two keep watch and we’ll take care of the rest. But I need you both ready to jump when I say jump.”

“You seem to have mistaken me for someone beholden to you, Miss Rose,” Severus said icily.

She snorted impatiently. “Let me put it into small words for you. We’re borrowing a car, and your job is to keep any No-Majs from getting in the way.”

“Somehow I doubt this falls on the legal side of any Statute, International or otherwise.”

“The professor’s right. Do have any idea the amount of parchmentwork that kind of a stunt would generate?” Robert said, but there was an interested gleam in his golden eyes.

“Are you a Thunderbird, or aren’t you?” Miranda shot back. “And more importantly, do you have a better idea?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Robert admitted.

“Then best not to think too hard about it,” Miranda reasoned

“What an excellent philosophy,” Severus said. “Is that the Thunderbird motto?”

“I’m pretty sure,” Miranda replied. “Or whatever that is in Latin.”

They had caught up to Finn and his victim by then, and the wizards positioned themselves at either end of the vehicle to watch for wayward No-Majs. Finn was already in the front seat and had most of the steering wheel column exposed.

“Are you about done in there?” Miranda demanded, sliding into the seat behind him.

“Almost,” he said, shoving the hobby-horse into the back with her. “Here, hold this.”

“Thanks, just want I want to do—be shoved in the back seat of a stolen car with a horse skull.”

“Shh, you’ll hurt her feelings.”

“Her?”

“I named her Peggy Sue.”

“Ass.”

“And proud of it.”

Finn shoved a large safety-pin through two of the wires and the car sputtered to life. In the next instant he’d jammed his hybrid screwdriver/hammer into the ignition, and overpowered the lock on the steering wheel. Miranda rapped on the back window once, and Severus entered the back of the car with all the dignity he could muster, while Robert clambered into the front seat, his eyes shining like a child’s.

“Buckle up for safety, kids,” Finn crowed as he steered the car down the twisted lane towards the main street.

“Try not to hit anything this time, would you Finn?” Miranda said, attempting and failing to maneuver the hobby horse in some direction that wouldn’t cause either end of it to jam into Severus or herself.

“Give me that thing,” Severus snapped, jerking Peggy Sue out of Miranda’s hands. He muttered an incantation, and the thing shrank to the size of a lima bean.

“You’d better not lose that,” Finn warned.

“I’ve got it,” Miranda said. “I’m putting it in my bag right now. You just watch the road.”

“This really isn’t a bad way to travel,” Robert commented, once the four of them were vaguely settled, and the street had smoothed out before them.

The cobblestone gave way to asphalt at the edge of the town, and the hummingbird patronus sped along just in front of them. Finn hit the gas to take advantage of the wider road, looking exceptionally pleased with himself. Robert seemed torn between the thrill of the novelty of stealing a car, and apprehension at the trouble this was likely to cause him later. Miranda was bouncing in her seat while she craned her neck to watch for signs of either the Lees or the giant—and Severus was beginning to look quite green about the gills.

“Are you alright, professor?” she ventured.

“Indubitably,” was his strained reply.

It was about this time that the sirens started.

“Shit, I knew this was a bad idea,” Robert said, glancing over his shoulder at the traffic car behind them.

“Mira, you wanna take care of that?” Finn said, unconcerned.

“On it,” she said, turning around in her seat to squint out the back window.

“What in Merlin��s name are you doing?” Severus demanded, looking quite ready to be ill.

“Don’t distract me,” she said. “Or better yet, give me a hand. I’m going to take out the tires, and you see if you can catch their car so they don’t flip.”

“This is the worst plan I’ve ever heard.”

“Worse than stealing the car in the first place?” Robert asked.

“On three,” Miranda said, her wand in hand.

“If you count to three one more time, I’ll not be held responsible for my actions,” Severus muttered under his breath, but he took out his wand and turned towards the back of the car.

“Three!”

She squinted and slashed her wand, and the first tire blew. Severus swore loudly and drew his wand through the air, while she took out the second tire. The traffic car swerved wildly as Miranda destroyed the final two tires, but it came to a halt in the ditch next to the road without crashing into anything, or flipping over. The policemen fired a few shots after them, but Finn quickly outstripped them. Severus gingerly faced forward, looking more green than ever.

“Motion sickness?” Miranda asked.

“Don’t talk about it,” he snapped.

“I see them!” Robert cried.

They crested a hill and beheld both the ocean and the giant in all their gruesome splendor. The foamy waves crashed against the rocky shore, and the giant was crushing the stones in its path into powder as he tromped over the landscape that rumbled with every thunderous stomp. Finn skidded across the road and onto the sandy turf, sending sprays of dust behind them as they squealed along the beach.

“I shall never accept another invitation for the rest of my life, so help me God,” Severus said through gritted teeth.

“Good to know a little churchin’ this mornin’ did you good,” Finn quipped.

“Finn, leave the professor alone,” Miranda warned. “For all we know he’s as pious as a monk.”

“Beggin’ your pardon professor. Can’t take me anywhere,” Finn replied.

“We’re going to have a bear of a time covering this one up,” Robert interrupted, gesturing to a group of bystanders huddling next to a tiny stone church on the shore. “Look at all the gawkers.”

“We’ll deal with that later,” Miranda said. “First we have to stop him. Wait, is that Aaron up ahead?”

A black bloodhound shot out from behind a dune, barking madly at their tires.

“Looks like it to me. Hit the breaks, Finn,” Robert ordered.

“Don’t know who made you boss,” Finn muttered as he pulled the car to a skidding halt.

The hound bounded towards them, shifting painfully into Aaron’s stricken form in mid leap. The instant the car stopped rolling, Severus bolted out of the back seat, his legs folding beneath him as they hit the unmoving sand.

“The giant’s got Rachel and Maggie,” Aaron panted, bracing himself on Robert’s door. “Scooped ‘em both up and stuffed ‘em in his pocket.”

“Get in,” Robert said. “We’ll catch them, don’t worry. Come on professor.”

“No,” Severus said firmly. “I would not get back in that demonic machine if my life depended on it.”

“Your life doesn’t,” Aaron fairly shouted. “Theirs do.”

Severus dusted the sand off his trousers and stood up to his full height. “Some of us have other means of pursuit available to us. I leave you to yours.”

Without another word, the Englishman muttered an incantation unlike any Miranda had ever heard. As he spoke the strange words, a black cloud enveloped his extremities, engulfing him until the bulk of his body was a semi-solid mass. He gave them an ironic bow and sped up into the ether, cutting through the sky after the giant like a malevolent cloud.

“Those teachers over here are hard core,” Robert said wryly.

“Not bad,” said Finn as Aaron scrambled into Severus’s vacated seat. “Not bad at all.”

“Let’s not get too far behind,” Miranda said; and she couldn’t stop the swell of pride in her heart. Severus really was quite something, and while she might have wished for a quieter Sunday, she wasn’t sorry to show him off to her brother.

Their speed was hampered by the rough terrain and the fact that the old sedan was not made for off-road adventuring. Severus caught up to the giant while they were still maneuvering over the sand dunes, and Miranda held her breath as they watched the giant swat at the black cloud descending on him with his club-like arms. Severus was as nimble in the air as he was on earth (and perhaps more so) and he avoided the clumsy blows as he landed somewhere on the giant’s ragged shirtfront. The creature paused in his raging, and for a moment it seemed that they might finally catch up to him; but then he was off again, and disappearing into the mouth of a cave that skirted the edge of the sea.

“It’s a perfect day for a little spelunking, do you think?” Miranda asked grimly.

To her surprise, it was her own brother who twisted the knife.

“Sure does. Too bad you’re not going,” Finn said as he drew the car to a halt on the rocky shore.

“Finn!” Miranda protested

“Miranda, don’t you Finn me, or I’ll get that boyfriend of yours to put you in time out,” Finn shot back.

“He’s right,” Aaron said firmly. “You’re only cleared for light duty. Giants are heavy lifting.”

“Besides,” said Robert, “we need someone here to deal with the No-Majs if they catch up.”

Much as she bristled at being left behind, she knew she was outnumbered and that arguing would only waste more precious time. “Fine. Just get going.”

Aaron gave her shoulder a quick squeeze, and then bounded out of the car, shifting to his animagus form as he did. Robert was hard on the bloodhound’s heels, and soon both of them had disappeared into the cave after the others. An eerie silence descended on the beach, punctuated by the constant crashing of the waves as the minutes ticked by. Miranda got out of the car and started pacing, wand drawn, but waiting at her side. Finn left the car idling, but got out to pace alongside her. After a moment of this, he pulled out a cigarette for the two of them, and she lit them with two shaky finger snaps.

“What do you wanna do when we’re done here?” he asked conversationally.

“I don’t know,” she replied tensely. “Go dancing I guess. Prospero’s is a good time even on a Sunday night.”

“That’d do. Or we could drag your boyfriend back to the cabin and try out the new televideo you got for Christmas. I think some pizza and a little Die Hard sound like the only chaser worthy to wash this day down with.”

She snorted. “If we want decent pizza we’ll either have to go to the Embassy or make it ourselves.”

“Well, I haven’t given you a Christmas present yet, have I?”

“You’re a prince among men, Finn.”

A pair of loud cracks startled the siblings. They whirled away from the caves to face the new attack; Miranda brandishing her wand, and Finn a pistol that he’d somehow managed to slip past MACUSA security. The men that at had appeared at their backs were both grizzled, but it was the more haggard of the two that Miranda recognized first.

“Auror Moody,” she said, lowering her wand slowly and nodding to her brother to do the same. “Nice to see you. Out for a Sunday stroll on the beach?”

“The alarms at the Ministry’ve been blaring for half an hour, Miss Rose,” Alastor replied. “Interesting that we find you here in the thick of it.”

“You know each other?” demanded the other man.

“We’ve met. This here’s Miranda Rose,” Alastor said. “Don’t know who the other bloke is.”

“He’s my brother,” Miranda said as her mind scrambled to place this man’s vaguely familiar face. “And you must be Minister Scrimgeour.”

“A quick thinker. But, then Alastor told me as much about you earlier.” Rufus’s sharp eyes darted to Finn, who was holding the pistol lowered at his side. “MACUSA seems to have an interesting interpretation of our firearm laws.”

“It’s been an eventful day,” Miranda deflected.

“So I gather. Be so good as to explain what’s happened.”

She bristled as she always did when given an order, but attempted to keep her temper under control. "The short version is there’s a giant on the loose. There’s several people back on the beach who saw it, along with a pair of policemen maybe a mile back who saw us…borrow this car. Oh, and someone probably ought to return it.”

“Interesting. It sounds as though you’re attempting to tell me my business.”

“I was merely suggesting a course of action. We’ve got the giant under control here.”

“Who is we?”

A series of pops like a Fourth of July firecracker saved her the trouble of explaining, as Robert, Aaron, Severus, Rachel, and Maggie all appeared on the beach, apparently unharmed.

“Miss Rose, the hobby horse, if you please,” demanded Severus without preamble.

“The what? Oh, right,” Miranda said, and began digging in her handbag for Peggy Sue.

“What do you want with my hobby horse?” asked Finn.

Severus ignored the question, taking the toy and returning it to full size with wave of his wand.

“What…” began Rufus.

“You Yanks sure have some interesting taste in souvenirs,” said Alastor.

“Will it do?” Severus asked Rachel.

“It’s perfect,” she replied.

Severus gave a short nod, and promptly decapitated the unfortunate horse.

“Peggy!” cried Finn, but Miranda dug her elbow into his side and he gave no further protest.

The ground beneath their feet began to tremble again, and Severus handed Miranda the leftover stick while Rachel gave Maggie to Aaron. The baby was waving her arms and babbling excitedly, and all of them turned to see the fearsome giant emerge from the cave—with a similarly proportioned headless dog at his heels. Working in tandem, Severus and Rachel charmed Peggy’s head to a size suitable to the beastly canine, and attached it to the scarred skin of the creature’s neck. The dog leapt and gave a raspy bark; and the ground shook as it landed on its massive paws. The giant scratched the beast just behind its new head, and uttered a string of guttural sounds. Rachel replied with a wave and a few scratchy words of her own, and both giant and dog trotted off towards the northeast and home.

“Robert Walker, you’d better have an explanation for all this,” blustered Rufus.

“And I do, Rufus,” Robert replied with an easy grin. “Why don’t I give you and Auror Moody a hand tying up the loose ends, and then I’ll tell you all about it over dinner. My treat.”

Rufus did not look at all pleased with this arrangement, but as the sound of No-Maj sirens were clearly discernible in the distance—and getting closer—he capitulated ungraciously.

“Fine. Let’s go,” he snapped, and disappeared with an angry pop.

Alastor followed suit, and Robert paused long enough to shake hands with the party.

“Professor, it was a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to having a chat with you in the near future. Really fine work today. Rachel, Aaron, thanks again for inviting me. Miranda, I knew I wasn’t wrong about you. Finn, don’t worry about the pistol or the car, I’ll get it taken care of for you. Maggie, you were perfect,” he said without pausing for either breath or acknowledgement; and disappeared.

“Severus, I’m…” Aaron began sheepishly.

“Keep your apologies and your thanks, Aaron,” Severus interrupted. “Only, be sure to inform the Ambassador that I have no interest in speaking to him, ever.”

“Will do.”

“I’m sorry about your hobby-horse, Finn,” Rachel said. “But it went to a good cause. That dog has been lost here in Wales for centuries without a head. By reuniting her with her owner and doing our best to heal her, we may have helped sway human-giant relations somewhat in our favor. The work’s not over by any means, but it’s a good start.”

“It’s alright,” Finn said. “If I had to loose Peggy, at least I got to witness her apotheosis in the process.”

“I’m not going to thank you in words,” Rachel said, turning to Severus, “but I’ll have the next translation in your hands by the end of the week.”

The corner of Severus’s lip twitched briefly into a smile at this. “That would be most agreeable.”

There was a blur of handshaking, hugs, and fair-wells as the Lees prepared to depart. Miranda was half expecting Severus to take the opportunity to escape as well, and much as that would have disappointed her, she wouldn’t have been able to blame him either. But when her friends had all disappeared home, she was pleasantly surprised to see Severus still standing on the beach, and looking no more irritated than he usually did.

“Come on, kids, what do you say we head back to the ranch and I’ll get some pizza made while you two neck on the couch,” offered Finn.

“Finn! We’re not going to neck in front of you,” Miranda protested, her cheeks turning pink.

“Why not? He’s one of us now, ain’t he?”

Miranda’s eyes darted to Severus’s, and she felt her face flush hotter as she tried to divine what on earth was happening behind that enigmatic mask.

“Well, Miranda; am I?” asked Severus in a perfectly neutral tone.

Her face relaxed into a little smile as she replied, “You are if you want to be.”

He bent his head to brush his lips against her cheek, and though they were cool where they touched her skin, they sent a spark of heat running from the point of contact all the way to the depths of her heart.

“Then I suggest we depart before I think better of it,” he said, but he couldn’t quite keep his pleased expression hidden from view.

Finn made good on his promise, and later that evening they ate the best homemade pizza that any Englishman ever tasted. And while Miranda did not neck with Severus on the sofa while her brother labored over dinner; when the three of them were settled there, watching the action film in all its glory, there was a moment amidst the explosions, car crashes, and destruction that Severus took her hand and laced their fingers together—and didn’t let go.

It was a little thing, but it was enough.

******

End Notes:

Many many thanks to Jane/Bunbury for supporting me through writing this chapter! You’re the best, dude.

Mari Lwyd is a Welsh wassailing custom. The wassailers ride a hobby-horse with a horse’s skull for a head as they go caroling about the neighborhood.

The giant headless dog looking for its master is from Welsh folklore.

*****

libera nos a malo masterpost+

unstoppable force/immovable object+

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