#the thought has just been buzzing around in my head like a wasp every time i see that damn post

[theradicalace]

certified Negative Nancy moment under the cut (¬､¬)

i'm going to sound like such a hater rn but that post about that person at ikea who got asked if they needed help and went "nah i got it" and the other person went "oh but it would be easier if i helped" keeps crossing my dash and i don't like it at allll 😮‍💨 i know it's meant to be like "oh it's okay to accept help and it doesn't make you weak or less capable" but all i can think of is like. they said no?? they literally said "no thank you" and the other person kept insisting 😟 people do that shit to me all the time and it always makes me mad because like BRO i already told you no. if i wanted or needed help i would have either asked or at least accepted the first offer. it just comes off as super pushy and presumptuous to me :/

[bunny-hoodlum]

Asynchronous With You: Ch 5.5

ship: naruhina

rating: teen (references to much ecchi this chapter)

tags: Modern Day AU, Foster Siblings, Family, Angst, Unrequited Love, Poor Communication

summary: An awkward journey full of self-denial and missed moments between two foster siblings. Perhaps their love will find the right timing someday.

She can't stand herself right now, so she makes him feel like he's the untolerated one

She just wants to be alone.

Between the abandonment from her parents, the fact that she wronged Hanabi and will deserve the worst outcome for it, to the way Naruto skillfully fucks up her emotions without even trying, she just wants it all to stop.

It's all… so itchy.

These events and circumstances, they gravitate to her, they stick to her fly-trap skin and die. And she can't be rid of it.

It's all fated.

Her whole existence is one incurable allergy, and continued exposure will only lead to anaphylaxis.

However, if she closes her eyes and lays very still atop her covers, she can dream of a world where everything is as it should be.

One where her parents cherish her and she and Hanabi are one of the closest sisters you'll ever see.

A world where Neji didn't lose his parents, yet it would still feel like he's always lived with her in the same house.

A world where Naruto had never been orphaned, had grown up secure in the love of his parents so that he didn't have to inebriate himself on his vices.

She just can't stand being his sister, because it makes her feel depraved.

She can't stand all the ways that she wants to compete against those other girls.

She's got the home advantage.

Proximity is everything, or it should be.

She doubts he would hate it if he found the hole had grown bigger. She doubts he would hate testing it out.

She pictures it and pictures it, and it's exciting. Tingles shoot down into her belly, traveling lower and lower.

It's so wrong how much she wants to be claimed.

She knows he wouldn't dare.

She knows he would hate it if the one offering themselves on the other side was her.

She can't stand how she had wanted to be curled against his side on the train ride to Neji, how she wished his voice would tickle her ears again like when they were kids, giving her the reassurance that she needed.

She can't stand how she had conspired with Neji to make Naruto feel off-kilter, like he didn't know her at all, just to hand off this whole cosmic unfairness onto him.

Any effort on her part brings them closer together as foster siblings, so really, could anyone blame her for giving up at this point?

She's starting to feel itchy again.

Hinata sucks in a sharp breath as she wills her legs to work.

She needs to apologize to him.

She wobbles out of her room, then leans against his bedroom door. She knocks against the wood. Her efforts are weak at first, hesitant pauses punctuated between each knock. Then desperation finally takes hold, and her knocking picks up as much volume as intensity.

She knows what she's here to do.

It's not that hard.

But the hushed desires crowding the back of her mind, the clawing need to clear the air and put her anxieties down for good, these make it so hard for her to breathe.

These make her not trust herself to be alone with him.

The door handle rotates, the click hitting her ears like the cocking of a gun hammer.

Her heart seizes in a panic.

He greets her with an affronted frown, then tugs at his earbud wires. Thunderous drums and riotous electric guitars buzzed like industrial wasps from the earbuds. When he hit pause on his phone screen, the absence of noise made their home feel like a cave.

Cold and vast.

"I-I have things to say." Her nose wrinkled with embarrassment.

Naruto stepped away from the door, allowing her passage into his room.

It feels like it's been forever since she's stepped foot in here. The posters were all different, and there was an abundance of them plastered along his walls. To her shame, the ceiling over his bed was also well-decorated with the ripped out pages of Gravure models. They all had different looks, different shapes and sizes.

Did he really have no preference?

As she hovered awkwardly in the middle of his room, he took a seat on his bed and patted the empty spot beside him.

She stared, her skepticism all too open.

"Hinata…" His eyes implored her, but when she would still go no closer to him, he was reminded of a life he had thought long-forgotten, back when he was treated like a germ. He shut his mouth, and buried that pain down deep. He couldn't bring himself to say those words. It felt way too pathetic.

His eyes followed her as she headed for his desk and slid the chair out from it. But then she stood there, staring at it too, like it would infect her.

With a growl, he collapsed onto his bed. "You're not going to sit, you're not going to talk--"

"I am going to talk."

"So talk." He laced his fingers behind his head, staring at her pointedly.

She pushed the chair back, and turned towards him, her hands wringing themselves to the point of splintering bones.

"I'm sorry. Neither of us have had a choice in all of this. The only thing we can choose to do is be better to each other."

His pointed look evolved with a lifted eyebrow. "Yeah, we kind of decided that early on, didn't we? I made sure to get along with Neji, and I protected you. It's what I could do. The bullying you endured didn't just stop for no reason."

"I-I know. And what I'm saying is, I'm the-the one whose g-given up on--" Her stuttering caused him to sit up.

"Hey, Hinata? Hey, hey, hey," He stood up and walked over to her, his hands clasping over her strangled ones. "It's okay. C'mon, it's okay. Try to breathe," he extricated her hands from each other and squeezed each of them in his own, offering her strength. "Breathe. Breathe."

But that shaky breath she took caused a few tears to let loose, and for her to question her purpose here.

When he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, holding her tight, her mouth smashed against his shoulder, the sobs wouldn't stop. The air was like pins in her throat and she felt so, so itchy.

His bedroom was caked in perfume and sex just as she had always imagined, and she wanted to wipe that all away.

"I c,c,can't be a g,good s,s,sister."

She wanted to love him fully.

He stroked her hair and shushed her.

"You'll be an amazing sister. That little brat already loves you. Hell, sometimes I think I won the lottery myself, y'know?"

She wanted to pound her fists against his chest. Instead she clawed the fabric of his lounge hoodie, because she may not be able to hold onto him like this for much longer.

I don't want to be your sister.

I don't want you for a brother.

These are the things she wishes she could say. With every intention of making it up to him, if he would have her.

Before she came here, she needed to gauge how badly he wanted to be part of this family. But now that he went and said something like that… she doesn't have the heart to take this away from him.

"I-I'll do better, Naruto-lun, I,I,I'll do better."

"Geez, you push yourself hard enough, don't you?" He teased.

In the world she dreams up when her eyes are closed, she's able to press her lips to his, all questions erased from both their minds as they melt into the rightness of each other's bodies.

In reality, this is as far as they can go.

AN: I didn't feel comfortable leaving them all passive-aggressive and whatnot, because I no longer like that part of my writing? I think in the past I was fascinated with the whole concept of 'this is what happens when you let things be', but lately it's not all that fascinating, it actually feels pretty dumb. So maybe this is just one of those stories where it's like, 'Yeah, this ain't working for this'. Also, I used to think communication, even if it's healthy, was boring no matter what. Like, 'Easily solved! There is no story!', but lately my mindset on that has evolved and maybe that's because of exposing myself to better stories and media. Anyways, another short one, unfortunately, but I hope you liked it! This chapter has allowed me to go back to advancing the plot with summaries, so I'm quite looking forward to speeding things up. IDK if there is actual NH juiciness up ahead, but we'll see the story allows. 😅 I really had imagined Hinata getting up to more bold 'hint-dropping hijinks' like she did with her shirt, but it seems like it wrote itself out. :( lesigh.

[p-artsypants]

The Ghost of Smokey Joe (8)

Here Comes the Boogeyman

FF.net | Ao3

--

Dead ends. 

Nothing but dead ends. 

She went to the courthouse. They found the blueprints for the Agreste manor, put them on the table and unfurled the paper to pour over it. The building had three stories, of which, the lobby and her office were on the bottom floor. 

No basement, nothing close to a basement. 

“Can I help you with anything specific?” Asked the woman who had retrieved the plans. Obviously, Marinette’s distress was a little more evident than she wanted as she gnawed on her bottom lip.

“So, I inherited this house,” she explained. 

“Yes, you showed me the deed.” 

“But I was friends with Adrien, the son of the previous owner. He told me to look in the basement. Other family members said there wasn’t one, and I was hoping that maybe there was, and no one knew about it.”

The attendant gave her a pitiful look. “I’m sorry, Miss Dupain-Cheng, these are the only plans we have on record. In fact, most houses in Paris don’t have a basement.”

So what was Adrien talking about? 

The woman seemed thoughtful for a moment. “Although, if Mr. Agreste wanted to, I suppose he could have commissioned the building of a basement later on. He might not have submitted the documents for it, which is illegal, but it is a possibility.” 

“There’s a chance?”

“I suppose. Have you checked all over for stairways?” 

“Not thoroughly, not yet. I haven’t moved in.” 

“Well, if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” 

Marinette smiled at the woman, but ultimately didn’t ask anymore questions. They couldn’t offer her the kind of help she needed. She doubted anyone could. 

Children, have you ever met the Boogeyman before?

No, of course you haven't, for you're much too good I'm sure.

Don't you be afraid of him, if he should visit you.

He's a great big coward, so I'll tell you what to do.

Her next lead was the funeral director, Bill Hunkerson. He had been cagey with Marinette, but maybe his guilt would make him open up more to Ladybug. She just had to play it smart.  

She strolled into the Funeral home, suited up and ready to interrogate. Of course, she was quiet so as not to upset anyone if a service was in session. 

The receptionist spotted her immediately. “Ladybug? Is something the matter?” 

Obviously, it wasn’t common for a superhero to be spotted at a funeral home. The question was justified. 

“I need to have a word with Bill Hunkerson.” 

“Who?”

Oh no. 

“This is Armes-Hunt Funeral Home, right?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“And a Bill Hunkerson doesn’t work here? As a director?” 

“Oh! My apologies. I’m rather new here. Mr. Hunkerson resigned just as I was starting, about a month ago.”

Ladybug felt her hands growing clammy under the suit. “Are you sure? He was directing Gabriel and Adrien Agreste’s funeral a week ago.” 

The receptionist looked at her, wide-eyed. “Really? We weren’t covering that funeral. I would have remembered something that important. Was he maybe doing it freelance? Maybe he was friends with Mr. Agreste and did the funeral with outside resources.” 

“The programs had your logo on them. The staff were wearing the logo too.” 

Stunned, the receptionist looked around the room. “Just a minute, Ladybug. I’ll get my boss.” 

This conspiracy was unraveling in her hands, slowly like a ball of twine. 

Hush, hush, hush. Here comes the Bogeyman!

Don't let him come too close to you, he'll catch you if he can.

Just pretend, that you're a crocodile,

And you will find that Bogeyman will run away a mile.

The receptionist was hurrying back to her, with an older man in tow. When he arrived, he gave her a comforting smile and held out a hand. “Hello Ladybug, I’m Johann Armes. Rachel said you had some information about Bill?” 

Ladybug rehashed what she had said to the woman, revealing that their funeral home had supposedly taken care of the funeral. 

As her tale went on, Mr. Armes went from confused to shocked to angry. 

“Rachel didn’t lie,” he clarified. “Bill did resign from here about a month ago. He worked for me for twenty years, and then one day told me the work was too much for him, and quit. This is a hard business to be in, so there is a high turnover rate, so I didn’t even think about it. But with what you told me…I wonder if he was being honest.” He pursed his lips into a thin line as he took out his cell phone. “At any rate, he wrongfully took a job from us. What if something had gone wrong? Our name was all over it! Bill better have some answers for me. If not on the phone, then in court.” He furiously scrolled through the phone until he found the contact and dialed it. 

He put it on speaker as it rang. 

Once, twice, then click.

“Bill? It’s Johann. I have some questions for you.” 

There wasn’t an answer on the other line. 

“Bill? You better start talking!” 

The phone clicked again, and the call ended. 

“The prick hung up on me!” Mr. Armes shouted. 

“Where does Bill live?” Ladybug asked. “I’ll go speak to him in person. I really need the information he has.”

“I’ll give you the address.” 

Say Shoo, shoo, and stick him with a pin!

Boogeyman will very nearly jump out of his skin.

Say Buzz-Buzz, just like the wasp that stings,

Bogeyman will think you are an elephant with wings!

Only minutes later, thanks to the speed of her yo-yo, Ladybug arrived at the address provided. 

Though, the dozens of emergency vehicles outside gave her a sense of dread instead.

As she landed, she was greeted by police and ushered to the front of the house. 

A woman in a shock blanket spotted her immediately and ran to her, flinging her arms around her. “Ladybug! Thank Christ you’re here!” 

Ladybug gave her a comforting squeeze and pulled back. “Are you Bill’s wife?”

She burst into sobs. “My Bill! My wonderful Bill! Who would do this to him?!”

Ladybug pulled her into a hug and patted her shoulder. “I know, I know it hurts. Can you tell me what happened?” 

“It just came in through the window! I only saw it leaving, but it was big and black! Like a huge spider!” She was hysterical, waving her arms around and letting the blanket fall to the ground. 

“Ma’am, why don’t you sit back down?” An EMT picked up the blanket and put it on her shoulders. “We can fill in Ladybug from what you’ve said.” 

“Bill! Where’s my Bill? Have you seen him!?” She cried as she was steered over to an ambulance. 

Big and black like a huge spider…was it an akuma? No akuma has set out to murder anyone before. People had turned into ice cream, glitter, and all sorts of things, but never just straight up murdered. 

“Ladybug?” A man in a vest asked. “I’m Detective Joseph Bertony, would you come with me please?”

“Of course.” 

He led her into the Hunkerson home, where every room they passed was spotless and not a hair out of place. 

“What you are about to see is shocking, if you need any time, please speak up.”

When they arrived in the living room, a huge red bloodstain on the wall caught her attention. Below it, the man she had seen at the funeral was propped against the wall. He had a hole in his forehead, and the back of his skull was missing. 

“Oh my god…” 

“It’s…pretty horrible, I must say.” Said the detective. “A couple of people have vomited already.”

“I can understand that.” She felt weak in the legs. If she wasn’t transformed, she probably would have collapsed as well. 

“According to Mrs. Hunkerson, the assailant was a huge black creature that looked like a large spider. She saw it as it was leaving the house through the window. How exactly it killed Mr. Hunkerson is unknown.”

“Do you think it could be an akuma?” 

He gave her a look. “Isn’t that why you’re here? Don’t you and Chat Noir listen to police scanners or something?”

She shook her head. “That’s not it at all. I was coming here to speak to Mr. Hunkerson about something else.” 

“Care to share?” 

She glanced around the room, taking stock of the investigators and police standing around, and decided to beckon him into another room. 

He followed her quietly, concern written all over his face. 

“I know I’m not a detective,” she began. “My job is to deal with akumas and Hawkmoth. But I’ve been running an investigation on my own.” 

“Concerning what?” His tone was sharp. 

Ladybug bit her lip, feeling like a student with late homework standing in front of a strict teacher. She just couldn’t imagine this going well. What should she disclose? Would he tell her to stop and leave it alone? 

Detective Bertony noticed her unease immediately, and gave her a minute to collect herself. When she only grew more hesitant, he rested a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, it’s alright.” 

It was like talking to Adrien for the briefest moment. That's what this was about, after all. Justice for her Kitty. 

“It concerns the Agreste family.” 

“Gabriel and Adrien Agreste, right?” 

“Yes.” 

“I wasn’t involved in that case, but I heard about it. Murder suicide, open and shut case. Cut and dry. So what about it?” 

“I knew Adrien. He wouldn’t have done that.” 

“That's what people said about Jeffery Dahmer too. Not that there’s a comparison.” 

“Right. People have their vices and demons and Adrien isn’t exempt. But that’s not all.” 

He nodded once, indicating that he was listening. 

“Both Gabriel and Adrien’s coffins were buried empty.” 

He frowned. “Your proof?” 

“I saw it with my own eyes.” 

“They let you look?” 

“Nope. But Ladybug has her ways.” 

The detective scratched his chin in thought. “What does this have to do with Hunkerson?” 

“He was the director for the funeral. I think he knew that the coffins were empty, and that’s what got him killed.” 

“So…Hawkmoth is covering up the truth about the Agreste’s?” 

“Up until just now, I didn’t know what to think. But if Mr. Hunkerson was killed by an akuma, that’s what I’m led to believe. I was just at Armes-Hunt funeral home. According to Mr. Armes, Bill Hunkerson resigned a month ago, and yet he directed the funeral a week ago, under their name without permission. Mr. Armes called him and—“ she stopped, remembering a critical detail and pulling up her yo-yo. 

“What?” 

“Someone picked up.” She glanced at the time stamp on her search for his address. It had been 20 minutes since she left the funeral home. “When was he murdered?” 

He glanced at his watch. “Oh, about an hour and a half ago. Why?” 

“Someone answered our call 20 minutes ago. They didn’t say anything, but hung up. Did you find his phone?” 

“We can check the evidence. I didn’t see it.” 

“Would anyone have answered it?” 

“No, that would be tampering. But what does that have to do with this? Someone answered the call. If not, would you have sought him out here?”

“I probably would have come here anyways. I really wanted to hear what he had to say about their funeral.” 

“Tell you what. Since this has to do with my current case, I’m going to get more details on the Agreste murder. Is there a number I can reach you at?” 

“Here’s the number to my yo-yo, if I don’t pick up, just leave a message.” 

He put her number into his phone. “Now, if you don’t mind me asking, what made you start investigating this anyway?” 

“That’s a superhero secret. Sorry detective.” 

“Fair enough. But the more info you give me, the more help I can give you.” 

“I understand. I will consider it and give you as much as I can. But if an Akuma is killing people who know about the Agreste’s, I don’t want any part of my identity getting out.” 

“You have a point. Best not mention my involvement either.” 

“Off the record?” 

“For now, until we have solid evidence and the upper hand. We know nothing about Hawkmoth…unless you do?”

“Nothing. It’s been eleven years and we’ve only fought him face to face a handful of times. It doesn’t help that his akuma rate is slowing down too. At this rate, I fear he’ll retire before we catch him.” 

“I’m sure he’ll slip up soon.” He twisted up his lip. “Maybe he already did, and that’s why the Agrestes perished.”

“One more detail I can give you: Emilie Agreste, Gabriel’s wife, died about 12 years ago. Her coffin was also empty.” 

“You saw it?” 

“I…not personally, but I have a….trick that allows something to phase through solid objects. This ‘something’ reported back that the coffin was empty.” 

“And would this ‘something’ be willing to testify if we get to that point?” 

“Um…probably?” She grimaced. “I’m sorry I’m being so vague, I just…it has to do with the Miraculous, and that’s very sensitive information.” 

“Fine. I won’t pry. But thank you for telling me. I’m not sure how these deaths and Emilie’s 12 years ago could be related, but I’ll let you know if I find anything.” 

“Likewise, Detective. I better be off and see if I can spot this Akuma before it strikes again.” 

“Good luck Ladybug!” 

“I'm going to need it, I’m a little arachnophobic.” 

When the shadows of the evening creep across the sky,

And your mommy comes upstairs to sing a lullaby,

Tell her that the Bogeyman no longer frightens you,

Uncle Henry very kindly told you what to do!

Tonight would have been her patrol night anyway. Joint patrol, her and Chat. 

The third he had missed, and the second after she found out he was dead. 

The last time, she tried to call him. She was on the Agreste’s wall and she called him. He was there, staring right at her the whole time. Hadn’t he cared? Could he not see the frantic desperation on her face? 

She scanned the shadowed streets for the spider-like figure the police had described. It was still early in the night, and the streets were plenty full of happy Parisians enjoying the nightlife. 

If only they knew what lurked around the corner. If only they had seen what she had. The blood on the wall, the soulless gaze in Bill Hunkerson’s eyes. The absolute devastation of his wife. 

It was so messed up. It seemed like everyday since Adrien’s passing, Paris got a little darker. A little more sinister. 

Hush, hush, hush, here comes the Bogeyman!

Don't let him come too close to you, he'll catch you if you can.

Just pretend, your teddy bear's a dog!

Then shout out, "fetch him teddy!" and he'll hop off like a frog!

Ladybug paused to take a break at one of their checkpoints. Normally, if they patrolled separately, this is where they would meet up before splitting up again. And she couldn’t help but linger there for a minute or too, even though no one would come. 

Or so she thought. 

A thump drew her attention to the chimney behind her. It was a black figure, not like a spider, but like a person. 

A person with pointy ears on his head. 

She gasped. “Chat!” 

He whipped his head to look at her, his eyes glowing a solid green in the night. 

“Where have you been?! I’ve been worried sick about you!” 

As she stepped closer, he backed away, keeping his unblinking eyes drilled on her. 

“Chat? What’s wrong? Won’t you come down and talk to me?” 

He backed up farther before darting off into the shadows. 

She had just found him! She couldn’t lose him now! 

She took off after him, listening for the scrambling of his claws on the zinc rooftops. 

He was fast. Faster than normal, and it took every bit of strain to keep up with him.

Finally, she had a good shot and she threw her yo-yo out, snagging him with her rope. He wriggled and squirmed, kicking his legs as he fought for freedom. 

“Settle down, kitty cat,” she said, with annoyance, but concern. “I just want to talk to you.” 

He snapped his alien gaze to her and hissed, spittle drawing lines between his huge canine teeth. 

It made her recoil. 

“Chat? Kitty?” 

He wriggled some more before he got his hand free, then he brandished his claws and cut through her, previously assumed, invincible line. 

Then he bolted, scrambling into the night. 

After his reaction, she didn’t have the heart to chase him down again. 

It was Chat. It was Adrien. It was definitely him. But something was definitely wrong. 

At least she had an idea of where the Black Cat ring was. 

Just pretend he isn't really there,

You will find that Bogeyman will vanish in thin air.

[show-choir-gal]

“Pinky Promise?” Oliver Wood Imagine

Guide: Y/N: Your Name Y/F/F: Your Favourite Flower

Words: 3,098

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

Every now and again, I like to reflect on Oli and I's friendship; how we started and how we got here.

*Flashback*

It was our first year at Hogwarts, we met each other on the Hogwarts express. I had gotten a booth early, since my parents hated being anywhere near late for anything. Oliver had hopped on and was looking for a place to sit. I was sitting and reading this week's newspaper of Quidditch Weekly. "Mind if I sit here? I love Quidditch!" He said with bright eyes. "Of course! I'm Y/N McCormack, what is your name?" I asked as I reached out my hand. "I'm Oliver Wood. Wha- Wait, did you just say that your surname was McCormack? Is Cartiona your mum?" "Why yes, she is." You replied with a chuckle, "I didn't expect someone my age to know who she is." "She was an amazing Chaser for Pride of Portree and absolutely nailed herself a place on the Scottish Quidditch Team and a place in Quidditch Hall of Fame! How could I not know her!?" Oliver replied. We spent the whole train ride  talking about our love for Quidditch. You could just feel the pure happiness radiating off of us and our newly found friendship. *End Flashback*

Oli and I had only grown closer and closer with each passing year. He has been my best friend in the whole known universe. We both made the Quidditch team our second year, not much of a surprise for either of us. We were a package deal, like George and Fred Weasley. Oliver was a Keeper and I was a Chaser. We killed it on the pitch each and every single practice and game. We were, and are, unbreakable. Pretty much from the moment we woke to the moment we went to bed, we were together. Nothing could break us apart. In our Fourth Year, Oliver was chosen as the team captain, which made me a bit disappointed because I really thought I was going to get the position. I was a little hurt, not going to lie, but still... my best friend was the captain. He ended up appointing me as his "second in command" aka, his assistant captain.

I remember the moment like it was yesterday, the moment I realised I was in love with Oliver. It was the end of our fifth year. It was our last match of the year, we didn't win but Oliver gave us a killer speech about how proud he was of all of us. Once we were all changed, Oli and I walked back to the castle, but he stopped suddenly. "Oli... Is everything okay? Are you ill?" I asked, walking closer Oliver grabbed my arms and pulled me in for a hug. Butterflies started  flying inside me. I didn't understand the feelings at first so I brushed them off. "Thank you for dealing with me, thank you for being you." Oliver said to me, I hugged back. "Oli, it's no problem. You're my best friend, it's the least I could do...Someone has to put you in your place." I replied with a chuckle as we let go of each other. We continued our way back to the castle for dinner, "Do you want to come over this summer? My parents wanted to know if you wanted to come on holiday with us." Oliver asked. "I would love to, I'll just have to ask my parents." I replied. "Oh no worries, I have the Wood charm. Who could say no to this smile?" Oliver said, flashing that world winning grin at me. He's right, who could say no to that smile.

Summer was around the corner, and the school was really trying to do a "secret admirer" thing to get spirits up. Oliver was getting flowers left and right, as well as giggles from girls of all houses. Oliver was bragging to Fred and George about it, and they were just fuelling his ego. Oliver and I weren't together, but I was jealous. All of a sudden I was jealous, and not in the way I usually was. I was suddenly hit with all these feelings for him, feelings I have never really felt before. Every girl sending him flowers and flirting with him and him flirting back...stung. It stung like I had just been stung by a handful of wasps on the pitch during a practice. It never stopped. In class? Nope. In the corridors? Nope. In the middle of a conversation with me? Apparently that stopped no one. It wasn't even time for lunch and I already just wanted to sleep the rest of the day away. Oliver and I finished our last Charms exam for the year and we headed to lunch together, we just about reached the dining hall when a group of sixth year girls came up to us and gave Oliver all their flowers and hurling flirts in his direction. Oliver was so preoccupied with those girls that he didn't even notice that I had walked away and entered the dining hall by myself. I walked to my usual seat and sat down and started to put food on my plate. Just as I was about to take my first bite, a yell of my name made me jump out of my skin and I looked towards Fred whose voice I recognised. "Oi, you're not eating yet." Fred said. "What's going on?" George chimed in. "I don't know what you are talking about." I said as I took a bite of my sandwich. "Oliver isn't with you." The twins said in unison. "Oh, yeah. A group of sixth year girls stopped him and were just gushing their feelings about him. I'm annoyed so I walked away." I replied as I took another bite, seeing out the corner of my eye that the twins shook their heads at each other and then fixed their gaze on me again. "Sounds like someone is jealous..." George said with a wink. "Jealous that other girls are giving ol' Oli attention." Fred said as he nudge George. "Me? Jealous? As if! Why would I be jealous?" I asked with a cocked eyebrow as I turned to face them. "Be honest Y/N." George said. "It's obvious you like him." Fred chimed in. "You like him and want him for yourself." George continued. "It's quite obvious, you can't fool us." They said in unison. "You two are just ill. Should I take you two to Madam Pomfrey?" I said as I tilted my head in "concern". "Believe what you want," George started. "But trust us." Fred finished. "Make him jealous back." They said in unison and gave me a wink. Their attention quickly went to the front of the dining hall, I turned my head to see Oliver walking in with those girls trailing behind him. I rolled my eyes and just kept eating. Oliver went on and on about it, and I just slowly started to feel sad. It was so bad that Fred and George were trying to signal Oliver to stop. They didn't want to see me this sad. He would not get the hint though. He was too absorbed in the euphoria he was feeling. I decided I had heard enough and was getting ready to get up when Professor McGonagall came rushing into the dining hall. "Ms.McCormack, this is.." Professor McGonagall started, but was then cut off. "Mr.Carneirus, I'm a big fan of you and your mum," He said as he started to shake my hand, "This is the photographer Adrian. We're both here for the Daily Prophet." I gave a puzzled look. "Although Gryffindor didn't win the last match, all we can say were that all eyes were on YOU. There were Quidditch scouts here to scout out who they might want on their teams in the coming year, but eyes never left you. We want to write an article about you, the new and upcoming Quidditch star!" He said with a smile. "Oh...wow! I'm extremely flattered!" I replied, in awe of the situation in front of me. "No need to thank us! Thank yo-" He was cut off by your mother, who had a new broom with her, which she threw in your direction. "Thank me." My mother said with a smirk as I caught the broom. My eyes widened, "Wow! Is this a new broom.?" I questioned. "It's more than new," My mother said with a smile, "It's one of a kind. A Firebolt Supreme. My buddy patented this design and wants to see it in action. It won't be out for a few more years." We all talked for a few and then I realised the time. Fred and George brought my broom down to the changing rooms and Oliver and I went to class. We were discussing how the paper wants us to have a game against Slytherin to test out the broom...and make me look good.

Dinner came around, and everything was back to normal. Well, now the school was buzzing over me. Fred, George, Oliver, and I were mid conversation when Fred and George went silent and stared behind Oliver and I. Oliver and I made eye contact and we looked behind us. "What do you want Flint?" Oliver said aggressively. "Relax Wood, I'm not here for you, I'm here for the beautiful girl right next to you." Flint said with a smirk, and I immediately started to blush. Marcus removed his hand from behind him, revealing a beautiful bouquet of Y/F/F, "I've been quite interested in you for a while now and would love to know if you would want to go on a date in Hogsmeade before the year ends?" He asked, with a smirk as he slightly blushed. " I would love to." I replied with a smile and he handed me the flowers and took my hand. "I will see you tomorrow beautiful." He said before he kissed my hand and walked away, but not before he sent a wink to the group of boys around me. Oliver and the twins started to stand up but I grabbed them to stay down. "He just wants you for the spotlight." Oliver said, face becoming as red as a tomato. The twins were about to say something but Angelina chimed in before they had the chance, "He's been interested in her since second year. I hear about it ALL the time in the classes we share." Those words shut the boys up. Eventually we finished dinner and Oliver had the team head to the pitch for a practice. Just because it was to test the broom and show me off, doesn't mean Oliver won't have us go in blind.

The morning rolled around and I had to be down at the pitch extra early for pictures and the interview. The whole team decided to come down early as well to support me. Once I was in full game wear, I walked out onto the pitch and was greeted by the editor, photographer, and my parents. While pictures were being taken, the Slytherin team  was walking in to change. Marcus and I made eye contact and he sent a wave and wink over in my direction. I saw that Oliver almost went over to do something but the twins held him back. I will admit, it did make me giggle. After the pictures, the interview went off without any issues. Apparently I had been deemed as "The Mini McCormack", I like the nickname not going to lie. All the stands were filled to the brim with people. From students to their parents, fans of my mother to Quidditch Scouts. Not an empty seat in the stadium. As soon as the Gryffindor team emerged from the sideline, applause roared through the stands. I was going to let Oliver lead the team up for a few laps around the pitch, but he wanted me to lead with a few fast laps by myself to show off the Firebolt Supreme. And that's what I did. I mounted my broom and went up to see all my peers. My eyes laid onto my parents who hugged and waved at me. I braced and took about 3 laps to myself, going as fast as this new broom allowed me (which was very fast). I was met by my team and slowed down to stay in formation, having Oliver lead the team like we normally did. We lowered ourselves to let Slytherin do the same. The game was well underway, and we were beating Slytherin, but not by much. As we witnessed a Quaffle go through Slytherins middle hoop, I went up to Angelina and the other Chaser and whispered "Parkin's Pincer". We all smiled and as soon as Marcus had the Quaffle, Angelina got on his right and I on his left. "You're quite handsome when you play." I said with a wink, trying to distract him. "It's all for you love." He replied, but before he could send me a wink back, our other chaser was heading right for him. He got nervous and released his grip on the Quaffle. Angelina grabbed it right out from under him and flew up, all the Slytherin chasers went up to follow her, but I knew what she was doing. I flew as fast as I could towards the Slytherin hoops. I looked up and she threw it ahead of me without climbing down. I flew and caught it and went straight for the hoops. I threw and I scored. This game went on and on until we had caught the snitch! This wasn't real game, but it sure did feel good to win against Slytherin. I took a victory lap around when a stray Bludger came hurling my way. Without thinking I grabbed a bat from Fred and got my angle right and hit the Bludger with all my might into the open box Madam Hooch was holding. I came back down to see Oliver's mouth open. "I- I didn't know you could hit..." Oliver somehow sputtered out. "My dad was a Beater, I'm not entirely my mum. Now close your mouth before flies get in." I said as I shut his mouth myself. I was about to walk away into the changing when I felt hands wrap around my waist, I looked and saw it was Marcus. I smiled. "She's quite a woman, Wood. Isn't she?" He said with a smirk. Oliver almost swung at Marcus' head, but I stopped his hand. "Get in the changing room. NOW!" I said sternly to Oliver. "You better listen to her or else you'll end up like the Bludger." Marcus said with a chuckle. I playfully slapped his arm and shot him an apologetic look before I made my way into the changing room.

It was September 1st, the first day of our Sixth Year. I boarded the train first, like I had every year previously. Fred and George joined me next, they were filling me in on how their summer was and how their youngest brother was a first year. Oliver followed not super long after the twins. He sat down beside me and we told the twins of the holiday we went on with Oli's family, and how we made some amazing plays for the upcoming Quidditch season. Suddenly, there was a knock on the booth's door. We all looked, and it was Marcus. I excused myself and went to talk to him outside, out of earshot of the boys. Soon after, Marcus and I kissed and he went to the Slytherin car. Oliver was a little weird after that, but nothing too bad. The year continued to just get better and better, until two days before the House Cup match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Marcus broke up with me, well, I confronted him about cheating on me and he admitted to it. I had a tutoring session with a third year but rescheduled it due to "personal reasons". I went down to the pitch and just let everything I could out. I grabbed my broom and flew around the pitch. Eventually, I grew tired of flying aimlessly, so I decided to just watch the stars and hoping Merlin showed me some help and sympathy.

I heard someone come onto the pitch, but I didn't move. I stayed staring at the stars. It wasn't until Oliver was right in front of me that he was the one who had entered the pitch. "Why weren't you at dinner?" He asked, concern grew in his voice. "Personal reasons." I spit out, trying not to cry. "You're my best friend, what is wrong Y/N?" He practically begged me to give him an answer. I started to let it all out, "He cheated on me." The anger grew inside Oliver, but this wasn't the time to be angry. He brought both of us down to the pitch and just grabbed me in a hug to comfort me. I had my best friend back, the man I was truly in love with.

The day of the match came and went. Gryffindor had won because I rewrote a play last minute, I was so happy for Oliver. This was the moment he had been waiting for. I let him enjoy the glory he had been wanting for so long. The Gryffindor party started without a hitch. I kind of just stayed on the sidelines while my team was off flirting with whomever their heart desired. I didn't mind being alone, I wanted everyone else to have a good time. Oliver was heading my way despite the army of girls trying to get his attention. He grabbed my hand and dragged me to the front of the common room. "Oliver wha-" I started but before I could finish, Oliver had one hand on my waist and the other grabbing my face and pulling me in for a kiss. This was a kiss of pure love. Don't ask me how I know, I just know. This was love. I was in shock, mixed in the same silence from the whole room looking at us. I was speechless. "I love you, and I have since we first met that September 1st of our first year. Now can you promise you'll be mine forever now?" Oliver asked, with tiny tears swelling his eyes. "Pink promise?" I asked with a smirk. "Pink promise." He replied as we pinky promised and kissed again. The twins roaring for us in the background.

[kdinthecity]

Love Amongst the Turtleducks

@zutaraweek​ for Day 1: Reunion. This will be an ongoing story of how Katara thinks Zuko needs a pet. The naming of the turtleducks as characters from Love Amongst the Dragons comes from one of my favorite fanfics, Not Stalking Zuko by @emletish-fish​. The Blue Wolf and Dr. Yang also belong to her. Cross-posted on Ao3.

Katara arrived on the Capital island earlier than she expected. The Southern Water Tribe had procured an air ship in their recent trade dealings with the Fire Nation. Katara wasn’t sure who was more excited about the acquisition—her brother or her father. Neither of them were excited to send Katara off in the Iron Wolf’s maiden voyage, though.

Does the Fire Nation name its vessels after animals like we do, she wondered. Her father’s boat was dubbed The Blue Wolf which was also his not-so-coincidental nickname during the war. Sokka followed suit and named his first canoe The Gray Wolf. Points for creativity were apparently not needed to win this particular badge of manhood.

Maybe we just name things after wolves, she pondered. An air ship would be more aptly named something like Eagle Hawk or Buzzard Wasp. No one asked her, though, and she didn’t really care—as long as it got her there.

Traveling by air ship was much faster than by boat. It was even arguably faster than a flying bison, although she would never admit that to Aang. Appa wasn’t just a mode of transportation anyway. 

She pushed away thoughts of her recent breakup with Aang. We’re not breaking up, just taking a break, she told herself. But those were his words, said a small voice inside her head. In the wake of their breakup—no, break—she planned to travel the world and study the nations’ different approaches to healing. So far, she hadn’t missed coddling Aang’s feelings or catering to his every whim.

She did miss Appa, though, which was probably pretty telling. Perhaps it was the unfettered companionship that she missed. She’d embarked on this journey alone, but was comforted in knowing she would see many friends along the way.

Where is Zuko anyway?

She’d arrived just after sunrise, unpacked her things in the guest villa, and checked in with Dr. Yang, her mentor during her stay. Her medical training wouldn’t begin until tomorrow, so for now she just wandered the palace grounds aimlessly. Zuko was undoubtedly very busy doing Fire Lord things, but she still hoped to see him today.

It was probably pretty telling how much she missed him. She craved the letters they exchanged—detailed and lengthy, yet never the same as seeing him in person. She allowed herself to admit that she couldn’t wait and then pushed these thoughts away, too. It was best not to complicate things.

The palace courtyard was beautiful. Flowers bloomed along paved pathways, their fragrance catching on the morning breeze. Bumbleflies buzzed between the buds, and the melody of birdsong encouraged a skip in her step. There was only one thing missing, but soon, Katara felt it. She drew water from the pond and settled into the first stance of a waterbending routine.

“What are you doing?”

She’d recognize that rasp anywhere. She’d been expecting him, even. But he still somehow caught her off guard. The only natural response was to splash him… for old time’s sake.

Soaking wet and scowling, Zuko didn’t offer any return greeting. “Katara! You can’t waterbend the pond! What about the turtleducks?”

She gaped at him. The what?

“I didn’t see any turtleducks,” she said, bending the water out of his clothes and back into an empty turtleduck-free pond.

Panic overtook the Fire Lord’s features. “Oh no! Where are they? Did you scare them away?”

He started frantically pacing around the courtyard. At one point, he removed the outer robe of his Fire Lord regalia and wiped a trickle of sweat from his brow. The search was getting serious.

Katara squinted at the midmorning sun. The breeze was gone. She’d forgotten how warm it was in the Fire Nation. She’d forgotten what a turtleduck looked like, too, but she couldn’t just stand there and not help. She got down on all fours to look under a bush, a likely hiding place.

“Zara!” Zuko called out, cupping his hands to his mouth. “Zali!”

Katara sat up straight and watched him with interest.

“Kizu! Tian!” he continued.

She quirked a brow. “You named your pets after Love Amongst the Dragons?”

“Turtleducks are not pets!” he protested. “And since when are you versed in Fire Nation theater?”

Had he always been this grumpy in person? This wasn’t how she envisioned their reunion.

“Ember Island, remember? You used to read it to Toph?” She didn’t mention that she’d read the script herself… a few times since then. She’d drop an occasional reference in their letters, hoping he’d notice. Apparently he didn’t.

“Oh. Right.” He softened. “I forgot about that.”

Katara crawled toward a faint quacking sound coming from behind a rock. “I think I found them.”

“Really?” A smile spread across his face, followed by a sigh of relief. Something inside her squirmed at the sight.

Once the ducks were swimming happily in their pond, Zuko and Katara settled underneath a nearby tree. He pulled breadcrumbs from his pocket and idly tossed them in the water. A chorus of quacks came as thanks.

“It’s OK to have turtleducks as pets,” Katara said softly, wondering if he always had breadcrumbs in his pocket for this purpose.

“These are just… ornamental,” he replied unconvincingly. “Pets are for children.”

True, they weren’t children anymore. Five years had passed since the war’s end.

“But Aang has Appa,” Katara offered.

“Appa is a spirit guide. That’s different.”

“King Kuei has Bosco.”

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don’t want to be known as the world leader who talks to turtleducks. Next thing you know, we’ll be throwing a party in their honor.”

Katara smirked. “It would be fitting. You’re so obsessed with honor.”

“Don’t remind me,” he groaned. 

A baby turtleduck waddled out of the pond and nudged Zuko’s hand. Without hesitation, he lifted the little guy to his shoulder. Katara sensed something in his tone—something deeper than sadness. Maybe he felt… alone?

“Hey Zuko?” She leaned into him, trying to pour understanding into the gesture.

“Yeah?”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

Katara reached over to give her friend an awkward-sitting-side-hug. Mama turtleduck scrambled ashore and snapped at her.

Katara flinched, but Zuko squeezed her tightly in response. “Don’t worry, Katara. That’s what moms are like. If you mess with their babies, they’re gonna bite you back.”

She shuddered under his touch, remembering their shared loss.

He pulled away suddenly, coaxed the baby turtleduck back into the water, and gently pat the mother’s head. “Don’t worry, Zali. Katara is a friend.”

She wanted to be more, she realized. But that would be… complicated.

[rose7420]

I did this one shot for a Loki x reader. I’ve had this idea in my head for awhile and wanted to see how it played out. Enjoy! Your part of the avengers now and have a secret to hide. You have the same powers as the Wasp, but you don’t require a suit. When you shrink your wings grow automatically.

It’s 12:00 in the morning and you have things to do. Every other night you’ve been going to New York’s Finest Fighters. A brawling club. No one here of the Avengers knows of what you’re up to, you’ve made damn sure of that. Every single time you tell your sad, messed up story everyone gives you pity. Pity will get you nowhere. But money will. So you fight to win. You pull on your jacket after you’ve made sure everyone’s asleep. Before exiting your room you shrink and slip under the crack of the door. Right across your room is Loki’s. He is always very quiet, yet very perceptive. You never talk much, only in walking by or the occasional trip to the library where he takes residence in a plush red chair frequently. Your wings buzz softly as you pass his room, flying into the kitchen area so you can exit off the balcony of Stark Tower. You can see the bright lights of other buildings as you look out the expansive window. You can imagine the nightlife of the city that never sleeps. Despite the lights outside the tower it is dark and eerily silent as you meander your way to the door. The only noise that can be heard is the faint buzz of your wings. You feel the pinprick of eyes on your back. You land on the counter in the kitchen and hide behind a salt shaker. Slowly peeking from behind the shaker, you scan the room and detect no one. You criticize yourself for letting your nerves get to you. When you brace yourself for flight again you catch sight of a dark figure standing in the hallway you just came from. Loki. How did I not hear him? Knowing that he may be on to you sends a terrifying jolt through your entire being. He may tell the others that you’ve been sneaking around at night. Tony and Steve will be pissed that you are putting yourself in danger and Natasha will wonder why she isn’t in on your little secret. Loki starts walking towards the counter, his gaze not quite set on you yet. His footsteps slightly rattle your shrunken form. Oh hell. Need to hide, need to hide. You frantically shout to yourself.You realize with dread that your only hope of not being seen is somewhere not on the counter. You take a risk and jump off the side of the counter hoping that it doesn’t draw his attention. Your wings come to life at the last minute to save yourself from injury. Dropping the rest of the short distance to the floor you sprint under the couch. You stay under there for what feels like hours until you hear his footsteps become more distant. You take a peek from under the couch and see that he is gone. Finally, you can do what needs to be done.

Tonight you're up against a woman with the power of invincibility. You are confident of your ability to take her down. Your training as an agent has taught you many valuable skills, hand to hand combat is one of them. You don’t need to kill her, just bring her down unconscious or until she gives up, and then you’ll get your cash. The countdown begins at 1...2...3...go! You and her punch, kick, and bite. She is a formidable opponent and manages to get a few good punches in. You’ll have to cover the bruises with makeup tomorrow. You manage to take her down with a classic move of yours where you shrink and then grow punching her with enough force to send her to the ground. You win and gather your cash exiting the building. You make sure to be aware of anyone following you. Thankfully no one is tonight. You shrink, the money shrinking beside you, and aim for the top of Stark Tower. You enter the building and head straight to your room slipping under the door. Growing back, you put your money in a bag in your closet where the rest is stored. You’ll put it in the bank account later. For now, you want to take a shower. Your body is sweaty and grimy and the hot water is pleasant as it runs over you. After dressing for bed, you climb under the covers and drift into a deep sleep.

The next morning you awake from your loud alarm. You head to the bathroom and catch a peek of yourself in the mirror. You look horrendous. Your cheek shows a purple bruise and dark circles hang under your eyes. You grab your concealer and frantically dab at your new bruise and your undereyes. Now you look slightly better, just appearing like you had a bad night’s sleep. Which isn’t entirely a lie. You usually get back around two in the morning and wake around eight. And on the nights that you don’t fight, you visit the hospital. Do not think about that now. Be strong, put on a smile, and act like your fine. You don’t sleep well. So what? Nobody does. You put back on your warm demeanor and get ready for the day. Dressed and prepared for the day, you enter the kitchen to get a cup of coffee and something to eat. The smell of coffee wakes up your senses and you bring the hot drink to your lips. Your eyes trace over the counters and land on one particular thing. The salt shaker. It reminds you of your close encounter with Loki last night. Hearing footsteps you turn around and see the person you would least like to at the moment. Loki makes eye contact with you briefly before heading to the couch and taking a seat. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, you ask him if he wants coffee. He shakes his head no. He is definitely on to you. Your paranoia is getting the best of you. You take a seat in the furthest chair, his gaze set upon you.

“Where did that bruise on your face come from?”

You reach up to brush at the bruise you thought was unnoticeable a wince a bit when your fingers rub it. And look at him fully now. His posture is relaxed, one leg crossed on the other. As if he really doesn’t care where the bruise came from. Your shoulders relax from their tense position that you didn’t even know you held.

“Natasha and I sparred, she got me good.”

“I’d say. Yet, you are the best woman here when it comes to hand-to-hand combat. It surprises me that she could get a punch in. Not to mention your...abilities.”

You blush at his compliment. You knew you were good at fighting, but you never thought you were the best. Natasha is the trained assassin here.

“Looks like she got the best of me this time.” You say. Oh, he definitely is on to me. On the inside, you're terrified your secret is out, but you only take another sip of coffee.

Later on…

You’re in the training room using the punching bag. Your knuckles are wrapped but you wear no gloves. You want to feel your knuckles crack today. It releases the fury and sadness you feel inside you.

“You’ll break your hand if you keep going like that.” says a smooth voice behind you.

It startles you yet you don’t jump, turning around you spot Loki leaning on the wall.

“What’s got you so worked up?” He asks, taking steps closer to you.

“Oh, you know the usual. Couldn’t find the right shoes to go with the outfit.”

His lips lift up slightly, and a quiet chuckle escapes his mouth. I actually got him to laugh! You say to yourself, a bit proud.

“Perhaps you would like to… fight? One-on-one?”

“Me? Would you not rather have someone else?” You are surprised by his sudden offer. Why with you of all people?

“I only wish to see how you fight. No foul play.”

You take a step back ready to refuse. You are tired of fighting, he can find someone else to torture. Yet he stops you with a firm hand on your wrist. You twist to get out of his grip but he is too strong.

So that’s how it’s going to be.

You shrink, escaping his grip. Sprinting between his feet you grow back and take him in a chokehold. He flips your body over, causing you to land painfully on your back. He lunges, but before he can pin you down you shrink and roll to the side. You watch as he searches for your miniaturized form below him. You fly up and land a punch to his jaw. His head flies back a little. Before he can regain his senses and perceive where you are you grow and land atop him. Both wrists in your grip, sitting on his hips to prevent him from bucking you off.

“Do you yield?” You ask him.

“Not usually, but perhaps this once.”He replies in a silky voice. You become all too aware of your current position and quickly stand and offer a hand. He takes it and pulls himself up. You become aware of how much taller he is than you are. Your head barely clears the middle of his shoulder.

“Now, if you could best me, how in the nine realms did your partner best you?” Oh shit. You realize where you screwed up.

“I was having a bad day.”

“It seems like you were having a bad day today as well.”

“Maybe you aren’t as good as you think you are, Loki.”

“I doubt that entirely Agent (Y/N).” And he stalks off.

Few days later...

Once again it's midnight. Stark Tower is dark and silent once again. You sneak under the door and glance over to Loki’s room. You remember him almost catching you the other night so you take precautions tonight. You creep under the crack of his door after checking that the lights are off. Upon entering you realize you have never been in Loki’s room. It's too dark to see properly but you find that his room looks normal. You don't know what you were expecting, maybe a bit more pizazz from the God of Mischief. Your wings buzz as you fly over to the bed to make sure he’s asleep. You find his sleeping form under blankets. His chest rises and falls with each breath. He looks peaceful and carefree much unlike the other times you have seen him. Even when he reads he usually has a scowl on his face. Not like you watch him read. Satisfied with your findings you make your way to the door again, ready to leave. Landing on the ground you walk to the crack under the door. A black boot slams in front of you. You fall back onto your ass from the sheer force and weight of the boot. You attempt to grow to your original size when to your horror you stay the same size. No, no no...You repeat over and over. Craning your neck back you can see a gigantic form towering over your miniaturized self. From this viewpoint he looks like an unforgivable god. You scramble back on all fours avoiding his foot.

“What are you doing in my quarters, agent?” Loki's voice thunders through your form. You halt your movement and you can't seem to speak. Your mind is blank. How in the world can I explain this?

His knee drops in front of you, causing the world to tremble once again.

You already have a feeling of what's coming next.Your senses regain themselves and start to haul ass out of there. You get to your feet swiftly and run to the door. But not fast enough. A hand is in front of you forming an impenetrable wall. You turn around to seek escape but it is soon gone by another tremendous palm. They start to close together moving fast and in slow motion all at once if that is even possible. He brings his cupped palms right under his nose glaring down at you. Those immense green eyes stare down into you, filling you with dread sweeping you off your feet.

“Let me go!” You shout up at him and kick at his hand.

“Why have you been sneaking out?” He asks.

“Why can I not grow back?” You retort.

“You give me an explanation, I let you grow back.”

“Why is it so important to you?”

He nudges you to a single palm, before you can question his action you find yourself pinned helplessly between his forefinger and thumb of the opposite hand. You expect there to be more pressure on your ribs and chest, yet he holds you gently but firmly preventing you from falling to a great height. He slowly raises you to both his glaring eyes.

“I found you in my chambers, the question is why is it so important to you?” He snarkily retorts.

You stare up at his billboard sized face. His enormous eyes search you as if he will find the explanation painted on your body.

“I can’t tell you.” You say weakly.

“Then I guess you will stay like this.”

He moves to set you somewhere but you speak up. His movements come to a halt.

“I fight. I fight at this place to earn money. “ You look up and see his eyebrow quirked up.

“That is what you are hiding. There is more, tell me.”

“What is it to you!” You shout angrily at him. You give him no time to speak and continue but in a softer, weaker tone.

“My sister lies in a hospital bed dying. I have no money so I have to earn it somehow.”

You don't have the energy to care what Loki thinks right now. A hot tear runs down your cheek. You're so tired. In every sense of the word. You feel you power thrum through you, and watch with dead, unseeing eyes as Loki lowers you to the bed. You numbly walk on the bedspread.You don't want to face him at your full size just yet, he seems to grasp onto this concept as he kneels to your level and waits for you to speak. After some time you dry your eyes and your body expands and you are now looking down at him instead of up.

He takes your hands in his with a tender grip.

“Look at me (Y/N.)” His tone is gentle, and you raise your head to see his face.

You see pity in those green eyes.

An outraged spark flares in you and you rip your hands out of his grip.

“I don't need your pity.” you say weakly. Realizing what you just said an apology starts to come out of your mouth but Loki beats you to the next word.

“Why would I waste it on you anyway? You're nothing but a pathetic creature who waits by her sister’s deathbed keeping her here out of her your own selfishness..” He spits out cruelly.

The breath you had is expelled out of your lungs, you can't breathe. Your eyes are blank, yet filled with unshed tears. You can’t have a panic attack in front of Loki. You shoot straight to your feet and you open the door, and walk out not looking back to see his expression. For now you have work to do.

You might as well be a statue. Your mind is still and you keep reminding yourself to breathe. The encounter with Loki is fresh in your head.It reminds you how powerless you felt. Someone tugs on your arm, dragging you out of your thoughts.

“You're up next.”

Your throat is dry and you feel lightheaded. You desperately want to give up, say no to a duel tonight. But you can’t as you picture your sister in her prison of a bed.

Her sickly hand reaches out weakly to grasp a hold of yours. “You don't have to do this.” She tells you. “I want to do this. For you, for us.” You watch as she studies the bruise above your eye. “I want you to have a life. Taking care of me, that isnt your life.”

You shake your head as if the memory would fall out of your head. You can't focus on anything, yet you step into the ring. The countdown starts.

1, get yourself together (Y/N)

2, Remember why your doing this

3, You can do this

Before you even can get a punch in your opponent kicks your legs from underneath you. He is on top of you keeping you down under his weight. You shrink and escape his heavy hold. Out of the corner of your eye you see his hand coming towards you, ready to whack you out of the air. You try to dodge, but it's too late. You are smacked down to the ground, a terrible pain ongoing through your leg as well as your wings. You attempt to grow again but your energy is too low. Seconds later your vision blurs and you see darkness.

Maybe it'll be better if you do just lay here, you're selfish and pathetic anyway.

You're out.

Next Morning…

Loki's POV

I don't need your pity.

The words replay in his head. (Y/N) had been in so much pain he wanted to help. Then she turned him down. All he wants to do is make up with (Y/N). He did not mean those words at all. To think he called her pathetic and selfish all while she sacrifices her freedom and life for her sister. He wonders if Thor would do something like that for him. Or if he would even do that for Thor. She deserves someone to be there for her, care for her as greatly as she cares for her sister. He stands suddenly from his spot on his bed. Without thinking about it, he is headed towards his door. Soon he finds himself in front of (Y/N)’s room. He takes a deep breath before knocking. Three raps on the door he waits patiently. No answer.

Three more, and once again no answer.

“(Y/N)?” He calls out. It would be odd for her to be up early. It's not like her. Not like he watches her or anything.

He opens the door slowly and seeks out her bed. Only to find it empty. He throws the door open and searches the entire room, closet and bathroom. This isn't good.

She never came back last night.

He is out the door of Stark Tower in less than five minutes. He wishes he would have asked her where the place she goes every night is located. Pulling out his phone that he is granted to have but never uses he looks up possible locations she could be at.

As he walks in the dump they call a building he searches frantically for (Y/N). It is empty of people since it is daytime. He walks closer to a padded mat laying in the middle of the floor. As he looks closer he spots an object on the mat. He recognizes the object as (Y/N)’s body. Oh dear.

He kneels on the mat and delicately scoops her body in a palm. “No, no (Y/N). I'm so sorry. I didn't mean any of it.” Laying a finger over her chest he feels a weak heartbeat and notices her chest rises shallowly. He lets out a sigh of relief. He attempts to get her to wake up by shaking her shoulder. He notices the blood smears on his palm gently prods her side to see where it's coming from. Her leg sits at an odd angle and he sees white protruding from it. Her bone is sticking out from her leg and is bleeding profusely now. He looks over her for other injuries and sees her wing. It is bent. Oh the pain she must be in. He gently cradles her tiny body to his chest, avoiding jostling her at all. He has to get back to the tower now.

He brings her to Bruce. “What in the world happened?” Bruce asks. “Long story, can you fix her?” Loki asks desperately. “Put her over here.” Bruce gestures at a small table that has a magnifying glass attached to it. “Her injuries will be too small to see, and she can't grow back if she is unconscious. And if she does grow back she will be in much more pain” Loki lays (Y/N) down on the table and stares at her mutilated body. Loki watches Bruce get his supplies ready on the other side of the room but hears a small shuffling sound. He looks down and sees (Y/N) slowly coming back to consciousness. He swiftly kneels to be at her eye level and reaches out a hand to halt her movement. “(Y/N), stay still.” She looks at his looming hand with a measure of fear that sends a pang through his heart.

“My leg..I-it hurts.” She says weakly

“I know, I know. But stay still,okay? You're going to be fine.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you last night. I know I'm pathetic and selfish like you said. I just can't let go of her. She's all I have left.” She states.

Loki’s heart rips out of his chest. He clamps his thumb and forefinger delicately over her minuscule hand. “No, no (Y/N) .You're not pathetic nor selfish. You're brave, smart, and immensely kind and generous. Please forgive me for what I said I didn't mean.”

He waits for her response and starts to get worried that she will not forgive his harsh words but when he looks up he sees that she is still and not breathing. He panics and calls out to Bruce. Bruce hurries back with the materials and starts to work.

Hours later

Loki waits patiently by your bedside, you have been unconscious for hours after Bruce finished up with your injuries. Your tiny bed sits on a table in his room. He props his head up with one hand, keeping his other near you. You're still in your shrunken form. Loki was able to keep Bruce's curiosity of your whereabouts on the down low. He thinks about what you said and how you can think so poorly of yourself. And how you think the only people who you have left in this world are your sister. How terrible it is that you think yourself to be so unlovable that you don't think anyone here at the tower cares about you. You start to stir from your sleep and blink your eyes open looking around confused where you are. “Loki?” You stare up at him and ask.

“Im here (Y/N). How are you feeling?” He asks, worried you're in pain, despite the morphine running through your system. “Umm, better. I can't really feel anything.” You sit up slowly and reach back to touch your wings.

“You won't be able to fly for a while. Or grow back.” He says calmly waiting for your reaction. “How will I get around? I can’t exactly get around at this size you know, without these.” You gesture at your wings. He lowers his head down on crossed arms. “I'll help you.“ He says as if it's common knowledge in a breathy whisper. He is afraid to speak too loud this close to you. Suddenly you swing your legs off the side of your bed as if to stand. He raises his head off his arms and positions his thumb in your lap like a seatbelt, and rests the rest of his fingers behind you. His hand is bigger than your bed and his fingers hang off the side. “Where are you going?” He asks confused. “I need to put that money in the bank account for… well you know. Come on let me go.” “Absolutely not, your leg is still healing and you need to rest.” You dig your arms under his thumb and attempt to lift it off of you. It's bigger than your small form and he knows you're weak so your attempts to get his thumb off of you are futile. “Loki, move. Now.” You demand him. “You can worry about that later. You need to rest.” He pleads. His hand is cramping from trying to keep it positioned around your little frame. You finally relax and lean back. Yet you seem tense and sad. “Why is it so important to get the money in today?” Loki asks. You slowly raise your gaze to his and take a deep breath. “Every month I have to pay the hospice home so that they can keep taking care of her. If I don't then they will send her to another place. They aren't the best of places. Let's just say that.”

Loki considers this information for a moment. “What if I help you out and you show me how to do it?” You blink in surprise.

“You would do that for me?” You ask with astonishment. He nods and then says, “Consider it forgiveness for what I have said in the past.”

[kuriquinn]

A Tender Harvest [one-shot]

Disclaimer

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25994254

Pairing: SasuSaku

Summary:  Sakura and Sasuke help a village with their apple harvest, and Sasuke thinks about his relationship with Sakura. The thing about traveling together is it makes it that much easier to fall in love.

Author’s Note: So, I wrote this for the fanzine Seasons like a year or two ago and then completely forgot that it existed? And then I was trying to organize the mess that is my writing files and stumbled upon it again and figured, hey, why not post it? Especially since we’re coming up on Fall again lol. (Also, I don’t want people thinking I’m dead or something. I am working on some stuff for SasuSaku, but the creative juices haven’t been flowing as easily as they used to for this fandom…or, well, any fandom if I’m being honest. Kind of stuck in one of those “I should be writing original stuff” funks that hinders all of my fanfic efforts of late. But I am trying!)

Anyway, so here’s something (sort of) new for your enjoyment!

________________________________________________________________

Sasuke curses at the sudden lancing pain in his hand and yanks his arm out of the foliage to glare at his palm. In the centre, a wasp sticks to his skin by the stinger, its tiny wings and appendages flailing to remove itself. Sasuke gives a harsh flick of his wrist, dislodging the insect and sending it flying off somewhere near the ground.

He doesn’t kill it; if there is a nest nearby that would attract others, and there are enough of the little pests buzzing around the trees as it is.

It is early October, the hot autumn sun unimpaired except for some light haze and few bulbous white clouds in the distance. Crickets chirp, and the scent of wet earth inundates the air, mingling with sweat and the distant smell of a brush fire.

The little village where Sasuke and Sakura have been staying the last few days has an economy based largely around produce. Their apple trees, vineyards and rice fields require rigorous tending, as the yield is what keeps them from starving during winter months. They plant a lot, which means they harvest a lot, and any extra hands are welcome. Originally, Sakura and Sasuke travelled here because there was a need for a healer, but they chose to stay and help.

That’s a common enough pattern these days. Sakura keeps an ear out for places that need extra medical attention, and Sasuke fills his days with odd work. The routine is also an excellent cover for gathering information. People rarely ask them questions, too thankful for Sakura’s medical skills, and even without them, Sasuke’s arm usually discourages comment. There were enough men and women badly wounded in the war that no one needs to ask.

It also lends credence to his and Sakura’s wandering, since many people’s homes were destroyed by the war; first by the Zetsu army, and then marauders in the aftermath.

And we’ve encountered quite a few of those, too. Some friendly, some…not.

While Sakura makes house calls, he helps in whatever field where they need him. There were initially some who looked uncertain of his ability be useful, but he soon showed that his missing arm was barely a handicap.

Today he works in the apple orchard. It’s fairly large, maybe twenty acres, and there are a hundred or so people working alongside him. Clumps of men and women are scattered throughout, picking and packing apples in large baskets. A similar number of people sit just beyond the orchard, slumped or lying on the ground, or gathered around the few wagons with water. A few children squeeze into the tiny bit of shade provided by the wagons, but in this heat there’s barely any point to it.

The only ones happy in this weather are the wasps, Sasuke decides, frowning at his palm to see if the stinger is still attached. It’s not, but the skin is already beginning to puff up from the venom.

He shrugs it off—it’s not his first injury of the day, and he’s endured much worse in his life—and goes back to twisting the gleaming red fruits off their branches. It’s uncomfortable, but he finds he’s more irritated by the sweat drenching his clothing than the minor wound.

The orchard workers have had to work in shifts because of the rising temperature, and because Sakura insists that everyone who works needs to stay properly hydrated.

Sakura…

Sasuke became aware of her proximity about a half an hour ago, obviously finished with her work in the village and now arrived to help. Since then he has been vaguely conscious of her bringing people water or traipsing into the orchard to retrieve anyone who she thinks looks tired. No one bothers to protest the way she’s taken charge, either, and though it could be her status as a respected healer, he somehow doubts that’s the reason.

He remembers what she was like back in Konoha, carrying out important errands for Kakashi and running the hospital.

As always, on the tail of that thought he experiences a half-second of guilt for having taken one of their village’s most important resources on a mission of indeterminate length. The second half-second he buries that feeling, reminding himself it was her choice.

And he has no intention of admitting it out loud, but he can’t imagine how the past few months would have been without her by his side.

Well. He can imagine; he just doesn’t care to.

A bell rings in the distance, and someone shouts, “Break time! Change shifts!”

There are groans all around—relief from the orchard workers, and resignation from the vicinity of the wagons.

Sasuke ignores the call, intending to finish filling his basket before heading in, but even as he reaches for the next branch, there is a cough from down below.

When he glances down, he is unsurprised to find Sakura there, hands on her hips. “That means you too, Sasuke.”

“I’m almost finished.”

“No, you are finished. The foreman told me you started with the morning crew and didn’t switch out with the rest,” she informs him. “Just because you’re about the greatest shinobi alive, doesn’t mean you can’t get heatstroke. And just because I will take care of you if you get a fever and start throwing up everywhere, doesn’t mean I’ll like it.”

Sasuke’s mouth tugs upward a little.

It’s been an interesting dimension to their travels, Sakura speaking to him so frankly. There were a few days when they first set out together that she was still stuttering and wordlessly following his lead in everything; a few bandit encounters and a shouting match later, she found her backbone again.

Now, the only time he sees her flustered or nervous is because he’s caught her gazing at him, or when she realises she’s said something with unintended innuendo. 

“Annoying woman,” he murmurs into the tree, but the words have long since graduated from contempt to affection.

With an affected air of reluctance, he picks up the basket he was filling and raises an eyebrow at her. She grins, and says, “Come on.”

Sasuke trudges after her toward the nearest wagon, sets down his basket, and heads for the water barrels. Children pour it into cups for the workers, some darting among the amassing crowd to pass them out. This is how Sasuke ends up with one of them, and he is quick to put it to his lips.

He takes several slow mouthfuls, to minimize the risk of brain freeze, and takes pleasure in the way the liquid dissolves the dry, gummy feeling in his mouth and throat. The second cup he is offered, he pours over his head, enjoying the sensation of the cold rivulets cutting through his sweat-streaked hair and down his neck.

Sakura lingers nearby, the look on her face conveying an ‘I told you so’, which he patently ignores before joining the line for lunch. The women of the village pass out rice balls and beef skewers; he accepts gratefully, and then he searches out the nearest bit of shade he can.

There’s an old momiji tree several yards away from the larger group of workers, its leaves already turning red and gold, but still providing enough cover from the sun. He heads for that and is unsurprised when Sakura joins him.

As they pass, he notices people shooting them knowing glances or smiling in something like approval. Several young girls whisper conspiratorially. When he was younger, he would have purposely ignored such scrutiny, at times not even realising what the whispers meant. Though he still pretends obliviousness now, he now fully understands the reason for the unspoken interest.

The implication that he and Sakura are more than just travelling companions doesn’t bother him the way it might have before. In fact, he finds odd comfort in the thought. These days, they are on the cusp of something more, something inevitable. They’ll get there eventually, but he finds himself in no great hurry to do so.

Not because he doesn’t care for her—there’s no question that he does.

But too much of his life was spent hurtling from one state to the next, never content with his current existence and always wishing for more. With this—with Sakura—he wants to take his time and experience every moment.

He’s pretty sure Sakura is of the same mind.

As they sit, she sets down the plate she was balancing between her forearms, and two cups. He takes the latter, still more thirsty than hungry, and drinks deep.

Noticing his blink as a bitter taste hits his tongue, Sakura says, “There’s cold tea mixed in. That quenches thirst better than just water alone, and the electrolytes will keep you going.”

“Hm.”

They eat in companionable silence, yet another new quality to their relationship. Part of it is that now Sakura has an appetite that rivals his own and doesn’t like to waste time talking when she could be eating. The rest stems from the indescribably pull that has always existed between them, an ease one only experiences with the most trusted of kindred spirits. Words would mar that somehow, and neither seems willing to do that right away.

It is only when her meal is finished that Sakura reaches into her pack and produces—of course—two bright red apples.

“I may have snuck a few,” she admits with a smile.

Sasuke snorts. “You’re in an apple orchard. I think you could be forgiven.”

She laughs at that and bites into one of the fruits, making a tiny noise of pleasure at the flavour that has Sasuke swallowing uncomfortably. A rivulet of juice drips down her chin, and he finds himself tracking its progression.

Sakura notes his attention before he can look away, and her cheeks darken.

“Sorry!” she says, a little flustered, and puts aside the apple. “You probably want some too, right?”

There is something I want.

The thoughts present themselves unbidden as Sakura digs around in her kit for a knife, and starts to peel the second apple over her empty plate. His cheeks a little warmer than earlier, he looks away and pretends disinterest.

“Don’t trouble yourself. I haven’t even finished my lunch.”

“Then it will be ready when you are,” she quips without stopping.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches her carefully dispose of the peel and then cut the apple into eight equal slices. Anyone else would think she was babying him, but he knows this is just her way. She genuinely enjoys doing this. He is, of course, perfectly able to cut up his own fruit, or eat an apple as is. But he doesn’t like apple peels, and never has.

He wonders when exactly Sakura noticed that about him.

She holds out the plate of apple slices to him, beaming, and he remembers a similar scene, many years ago. Of her worried and smiling face, her nervous chatter and her hand holding out a plate of apples. And then the clatter as the plate and fruit itself were knocked to the floor.

This time he accepts, forgetting that he hasn’t finished his lunch, and bites into the first slice. The white flesh is sweeter than the apples he usually eats—he prefers them tart and sour—but it’s perfectly in season and tastes good. 

Sakura’s lips part in surprise, and the motion causes him to nearly miss as he pops the rest of the fruit into his mouth. Thankfully, she doesn’t appear to see; instead, her eyes flick toward his hand, mouth firming.

Damn. I meant to keep that hidden.

Sakura barely waits for his hand to be empty before taking him by the wrist. “You’re hurt!”

The skin of his forearm and hand is crisscrossed with welts and scratches, as well as several wasp stings from when he was reaching into the trees. He’d forgotten about them, but with her attention, the dull hurts flare to life.

“It’s nothing,” he tells her, trying to take his hand back, but she doesn’t relinquish it.

“You always say it’s nothing. I’ve stopped believing you.”

“I guarantee everyone else working in the orchard has the same thing.”

“And I’ll get to them. But you’re here right now, and knowing you, you’re going to throw yourself back into work right away, so it won’t be until this evening when I get my hands on you again…” He raises an eyebrow at her. Her eyes widen. “That…didn’t come out right…”

He can’t help the slow smirk that pulls at his mouth, and she scowls at him.

“Shut up,” she grumbles, twin spots of rouge flaming even darker across her cheeks but holds his hand closer to her. Green chakra flickers between her fingers, seeping into his muscles and tendons, easing the sharp aching of scraped skin and pulling muscles.

While she heals, her expression relaxes, embarrassment giving way to concentration. He’s noticed that about her: when she uses her medical ninjutsu, everything else appears to fall beyond her awareness.

Still, there’s a tiny smile upon her lips and the fading colour across the bridge of her nose and cheekbones that has nothing to do with the autumn swelter. 

When she releases him, she is unabashed and cheerful again. “Better?”

He flexes his fingers, studying the newly healed skin, and nods.

“Thank you.”

Sasuke straightens and reaches for another apple slice, frowning at a mild pinching sensation behind his neck. He hasn’t even rolled his shoulder once to disperse the tension, before Sakura is leaning toward him again, eye filled with concern.

“You’ve strained your neck,” she says, and it sounds accusing, as if she thinks he deliberately kept it from her.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have! I know what that looks like.”

“I haven’t done anything strenuous enough,” he replies, a little indignant because he knows his body’s limits.

“Spending the day with your arm raised overhead and twisting fruit off branches requires different movements than kenjutsu or taijutsu,” she lectures. “If you don’t take care of it now, you’ll regret it tomorrow.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Stop being so stubborn! Lie down and I’ll fix it for you.”

“No.”

“Sasuke…!”

She is growing annoyed, not understanding the reason for his refusal. He is easier with her lately when it comes to touching or being touched. It’s happened often enough—huddled together in the shelter of a tree when it rains, elbows bumping when they crowd into communal meal halls, or checking each other’s wounds.

If they were alone, he would let her ease the knots from his neck and shoulders, but right now they are in front of an entire village of people. Some of whom are viewing the interchange with blatant interest and amusement, others barely concealing the smiles on their faces.

The back of Sasuke’s neck feels warm. He dislikes such attention.

A look creeps across Sakura’s face, the one that Sasuke knows he will have no recourse against, and he has to act before it fully manifests..

“If you don’t lie down right now…” she begins, her voice rising with each syllable.

“Sakura,” he says, his tone soft but firm in its finality.

Her expression freezes at that, and she blinks, coming back to herself. Then, glancing around, she spots what he has been aware of for a while—the audience of workers pretending not to be observing them. 

Her look of surprise is almost comical, and her cheeks flood red once more.

“I didn’t mean— I wasn’t going to— not in front of—” she stammers, all apologies and embarrassment and avoiding eye contact. She jumps to her feet, nearly slopping tea over them both. “I have to get back. They, um, probably need help cleaning up, and I have to go out and check on the other workers, and you…well, you’re right…we can, um, your arm…I’ll just…”

He’s enjoying her fluster more than he should and opens his mouth to speak—to say something smooth in delivery or laden with implication—so that it continues.

But she’s biting her lip as if to physically stop herself from stammering, and her eyes are shining just so, even as they dart about trying to avoid his gaze, and as has become a frequent occurrence, Sasuke discovers every word in his vocabulary suddenly vanishing from his brain.

It takes him several seconds longer than he expects to remember at least one.

“Later?” he suggests.

Sakura stops her fidgeting and meets his gaze. This time he doesn’t bother hiding his small smile from her.

That unnameable something passes between them, bolstered by the rustling leaves and dense heat around them.

Then she smiles back, a gentle and pleased upward curve of her lips, and nods. “Right. Um…later.”

She hurries away after that, tripping a few times before her posture straightens and he watches her transform from his Sakura to the no-nonsense, hyper-confident medic and director.

Sasuke finishes his meal and eases to his feet, ready to head back into the orchard. On his way, he passes one of the workers who is staring Sakura with an air of awe.

“Your girl is something,” he says, impressed.

Sasuke considers Sakura once more, as she directs a group of villagers to go around picking up discarded plates and cups.

In his mind’s eye, he sees a skinny girl with long pink locks, hands on her hips and lecturing him or Naruto or Kakashi for some misbehaviour or other. In a blink it’s replaced with the brave kunoichi, bruised and battered, caring for him when he was ill, or holding him back from throwing himself into danger.

A girl who wouldn’t give up on a boy filled with darkness, even when he shoved away what she offered, be it a plate of apples or her heart.

It’s not the first time he wonders what he did to deserve her.

But he doesn’t reveal any of this to the worker. Instead, he shrugs and says with complete certainty, “She is.”

終わり

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I am trying to figure out how to fit this one into the Legacy of Fire series, but it mostly depends on me writing a completely different fic to allow that to happen, so this can exist in the same series as Miso Soup Everyday and You Are Cordially Invited. So for now it’s not part of the series...

I want to know what you think of my story! Leave kudos, a comment or if writing comments isn’t something you’re comfortable with, as many of these (or other emojis) as you want and let me know how you feel!

❤️️ = I love this story! 😳 = this was hot! 💐 = thank you for sharing this 🍵 = tea spilled 🍬 = so sweet and fluffy! 🚔 = you’re under arrest! the writing’s too good! 😲 = I NEED THE NEXT CHAPTER 😢 = you got me right in the feels 🤯mind blown 🤬god damn cliffhanger 😫 whyyyyyyy?!?!?

栗

[cdyssey]

Headaches

Summary: Four weeks in London later, both Lyra and Mrs. Coulter have full heads.

AO3 Link

—

One quiet night, four weeks in London later, Lyra sits on the couch, pretending to read some history book that Mrs. Coulter insisted upon, while Mrs. Coulter herself is curled up in the chair opposite, scrawling notes in the margins of a thick book. Her loopy handwriting is pretty and small and illegible to Lyra, who never learned how to do cursive. (She ducked out of those particular lessons by feigning chicken pox; Roger obligingly dotted her with berry juice, snickering a little as he poked her right between the eyes.)

Mrs. Coulter always looks pretty, but Lyra reckons she’s the prettiest when she’s got her hair all down, and she’s not dressed to kill a man. Like tonight, for instance, she’s got on a silky robe, lavender and luxurious, its hem pooling like liquid on the floor. She seems ethereal, like a fairy almost, fragile and elegant and light, and it’s with a fond smile that Lyra remembers the conversation that they had at the beginning of all this, when they established what it means that she’s comfortable enough to wear pajamas around Lyra...

Pantalaimon, in his favorite ermine form, urgently nudges her hand, calling her back to her senses.

But think about it—that was weeks ago, Lyra, he whispers into her mind. Shouldn’t we be focusing on Roger? Shouldn’t she...? She promised...

She said to trust her, Pan... maybe she’s working on it right now, readin’ that big, fancy book of hers…?

I highly doubt Roger’s going to be found in a book, he returns crossly, turning into a wasp hovering next to her face. The buzzing of his wings catches the golden monkey’s attention; he’d been heretofore slinking up and down the stretch of floor next to Mrs. Coulter’s chair, looking strangely restless.

Surprised, Pan promptly pops back into his ermine skin again, landing on top of her chest with a neat thud.

Real smooth, she snaps, glaring at him over the top of her book.

I can’t help it!

“Lyra, dear?” Both Lyra and Pan look up to see that Mrs. Coulter’s attention has also been snagged from across the room. Indeed, she and the monkey both have directed their undivided attention towards them now, and their dual intensity is enough to force Pan to turn into a kitten, pressing his gray paws clumsily against the fabric of her shirt. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Lyra mumbles immediately, her cheeks feeling hot, “just thinking about a lotta stuff, you know?”

“The kind of stuff that makes your head feel full, huh?” Mrs. Coulter’s brow bends sympathetically as the monkey resumes his methodical pacing, back and forth and back again, his tiny hands clicking against the sleek wood. Pan watches him, a little discomfited, a little mesmerized, wondering why he’s so cagey tonight.

“Exactly!” Lyra exclaims. “That’s it. My head’s just a lil full.”

“Ah,” Mrs. Coulter sighs, the gesture less sound than susurrus, “I know the feeling.”

And she raises the thick book she’s reading, allowing Lyra to get a good glimpse at the text for the first time. To her surprise, her guardian’s elegant handwriting isn’t the only part of it that’s entirely incomprehensible to her. Indeed, the tome seems to be written in an entirely different language.

Or, more accurately still, it looks like English would if someone completely didn’t know English and was just making excellent educated guesses.

“Latin,” Mrs. Coulter supplies, correctly interpreting the confusion in Lyra’s face. “The liturgical language. I began to learn it when I was around your age.”

It’s an impressive statement, communicative of just how intelligent Mrs. Coulter is, but frankly, Lyra isn’t all too surprised anymore. 

This lady seems to know everything, answering every question that the twelve-year old has with patience, kindness, and poise.

Even the little things.

The stupid ones.

Like how anbaric lights work.

Or why the sky is blue.

She won’t give you a straight answer about Roger, though, Pan reminds her stubbornly, kneading her pajama shirt with his claws. 

Lyra works hard to ignore him.

“Looks fancy,” she replies, “and hard.”

“It’s most certainly both,” Mrs. Coulter shakes her head, replacing the book on her lap. “I used to be able to read it so fluently when I was in college, declining nouns like a Roman conqueror... but now, out of practice, out of touch...”

“—your head feels all full,” Lyra finishes, tilting her head sympathetically. 

“Precisely, darling.” 

And for the first time in a long time—perhaps since the very first week of their acquaintance—she studies her guardian's face, deconstructing it like one of the math problems the Librarian used to keep setting in front of her. And her findings prove thus, the variables all clear—beneath the mask of her gentle smile, there’s an exhaustion about Mrs. Coulter.

Slight.

Subtle.

Tinged with the indefinable manic energy of someone who works and works and works.

Staring at the faint lines beneath her arctic blue eyes, Lyra suddenly thinks of Lord Asriel for some reason. As driven as he is, as cold and as fierce and as clever, sometimes, on his rare visits to Jordan College, she’s noticed that he looks a little exhausted, too.

“If your head feels all full,” Lyra asks, “why don’t you stop for awhile? Try again in the morning?”

The monkey briefly pauses in his tracks, staring at Lyra with open curiosity—tender, probing, mild—before continuing onwards, a dutiful soldier committed to his guard.

“Believe me,” Mrs. Coulter sighs, “I’ve asked myself the same question, but my employers... they’re always expecting me to produce innovative material, even when my project is more ambitious than their wildest dreams.”

Her voices raises a little at the end, and the golden monkey, his face turned away, growls lightly, his beautiful tail stiffly coiled. 

Pan transforms into a monkey, too, empathetically trying the emotion on for himself—the pent-up frustration of never feeling like he can do enough.

The form’s a little strange, but it kinda fits, too.

Because Lyra thinks about Roger again.

About how there’s so much more she can be doing to help him.

“Stick it to ‘em, Mrs. Coulter,” she says, sudden fierceness in her voice, flooding passion. Pan is a wildcat on her lap, black hackles raised. “Seriously. If you know you’re better, forget all the toerags that don’t get it.”

Mrs. Coulter’s eyes widen in quiet surprise, mouth slightly parted, before she suddenly breaks out into a laugh—sudden, sincere, and musical—the faint lines in her face creasing pleasantly. Even though he continues to pace, the monkey’s expression softens incrementally when he comes back around. 

“My, my,” she chuckles, “what coarse language... but thank you, Lyra. I appreciate it. Sincerely.”

And she gives Lyra another one of those radiant smiles again, the one that she loves so much, that makes the girl feel like she’s maybe, very possibly loved.

And Pan, feral though he appears, brushes against her cheek, purring.

“But, since we’re trading secrets now,” Mrs. Coulter continues, her brow furrowing above her eyes, “why is your own head full, dear? Feeling tired? Is it bedtime for you?”

Lyra’s nose automatically wrinkles in disdain. In London, she’s had a strict bedtime every night, which is a far cry from how her caretakers at Jordan College handled her nightly routine.

(Which is to say that at Jordan College, she didn’t really have a nightly routine. Someone would just yell at her to go to bed, and then she’d maybe do it or maybe not depending on her mood.)

“No,” she shakes her head defiantly, but then, a little more gently, a little more politely, “no... I’m just... I’m thinkin’ about Roger again, Mrs. Coulter. He’s gotta be so scared and lonely and confused…”

Pantalaimon, now an ermine again, watches the golden monkey, far bigger than him and far more graceful and far better at keeping a neutral face.

But as soon as Lyra mentions Roger, the golden monkey’s nose twists unpleasantly, as though he’s smelling something awful, and Pan lurches, instinctively recognizing the emotion for what it is.

Disgust.

Mrs. Coulter smiles sadly, her slender face perfectly free of her dæmon, and the monkey turns away again.

“I imagine so,” she murmurs, “but all my best people are doing their best to look for him, Lyra. Haven’t I told you this before?”

And even Lyra can hear the warning note in her voice this time, the implicit insistence that she shouldn’t push.

Push anyway, Pan encourages, pressing his black nose gently against her neck. For Roger, Lyra. He needs you.

“I... I know,” Lyra mumbles, “but I just thought we could help look for him, too, you know? All hands on deck.”

The monkey makes some sort of impatient sound that registers as such in the empty air, but still, Mrs. Coulter’s expression remains perfectly pleasant.

Soft.

Compassionate even.

Lyra’s heart thuds with its own confusion.

“If all else fails,” Mrs. Coulter promises, straightening her silk-enclosed shoulders, “we will, sweet girl. I wouldn’t lie to you—ever.”

Pantalaimon isn’t so sure about that, but Lyra half-heartedly brushes him off again.

Because she likes Mrs. Coulter.

She really does.

We can like someone and not believe them, Lyra, he reminds her gently.

That’s scary to think about, Pan.

I know.

Mrs. Coulter’s smile is so kind… so warm… so inviting…

Someone can like us and still not tell us the truth, Pan warns, watching the monkey’s vaguely cross expression.

That’s even scarier somehow.

I know.

[sunshinejihyun]

The Night I’ve Been Waiting For || Zen Ryu

Author’s note: I wrote this for @mysmessengerdiscord​‘s Apple-y Ever After event. I didn’t use a prompt from it, but it’s still fall/halloween themed and I have another fic coming out that will be using a prompt supplied. 

The costume choices were heavily inspired by Bonnie and Clyde the Musical and I stole this title from a line in the song How ‘Bout a Dance.

Summary: A costumed Halloween fundraiser throws Zen and MC into some emotional turmoil

Word Count: 2,255

Masterlist

When Jumin Han announced that he was going to be throwing a Halloween fundraiser, you and your best friend, Zen started planning your costumes. For as long as you had known him, you and Zen had always dressed up together for Halloween, you guys shared a favorite holiday after all, why wouldn’t you? When you both first met, you went as countless pairs: Mr. and Mrs. Incredible, Woody and Buzz, Eric and Ariel, ect. As you became closer, you both still dressed in pairs but made them more creative. All your friends loved to bring up the time you guys went as Peter Pan and his shadow, Zen being the shadow since he was so much taller than you.

“So I was thinking this year that we went as a silent movie couple? Wear all black and white and paint our faces and hands white as well?” You caught up with Zen one night before walking into a get together at Saeyoung’s house.

“Or maybe Ant-Man and The Wasp? I think that would be really cool and I’d look amazing in that costume.” Zen said, swagger dripping from his words. He turned his phone towards you to show you costumes that you both could order off of Amazon.

Sighing, you both stopped outside of the bunker’s front door and texted Yoosung asking to be  let in. “I don’t know, Zen. Money’s tight for the both of us right now. At least with my idea you and I could wear stuff we already own and just buy the body paint.”

“We always do what you want to do, MC. Can’t we do what I want to do for one year? I’ll even buy your costume and you can pay me back when you want.” Zen was rubbing his upper arm, something he did when he was anxious, which wasn’t often.

Grabbing his hand, you smiled softly at him. “I don’t think I want to do that. I’d feel really bad.”

“Then maybe I can just ask Jaehee if she’ll match with me instead.” Zen said, glancing at the dark haired woman as the door swung open. You felt your insides clench slightly. You’ve been picking up lately that Zen might be interested in Jaehee and every time you thought of that, you felt a pang of jealousy in your stomach. You were sure it was only because if Zen started dating Jaehee, he wouldn’t have as much time to hang out with you. Although, the rest of your friends knew the real reason you were jealous: you loved Zen and couldn’t bear the thought of him seeing someone else.

“Uh yeah..” you trailed off spotting Saeyoung sprawled across the couch. “I think I will ask Saeyoung if you don’t mind then.”

Zen looked taken aback for a moment before plastering a smile on his face. “Good idea. I’m gonna go catch up with Jaehee but I’ll see you later?” It wasn’t a question that Zen usually asked. You and him were always together. But with the halloween costume debacle, he didn’t know what to expect.

“Um, sure. Maybe. I’ll text you!” You said, anxious to get away. You felt like you were going to pass out, your head was swimming and it was getting harder to concentrate on what you were doing.

Zen cast his eyes down and turned to your shared group of friends milling about, smiling softly as he saw Jaehee waiving him over. You watched him walk away and ignored how you felt like a piece of you was leaving with him. Sitting down next to Saeyoung, you put on a forced smile as he greeted you. “How’s your day been so far?”

“It’s been okay. Hey, so Jumin’s halloween fundraiser? Have you thought about matching costumes with anyone yet?” Saeyoung looked startled and you weren’t surprised. You and him have always been a part of the RFA but were never super close; it has always been you and Zen.

“I mean, not really. Yoosung and I will probably put something together last minute if I can’t find someone else.” When he said that, Saeyoung coughed nervously. “I assume you and Zen are matching this year?”

Shaking your head you looked pointedly at your math partner. “Nah, he’s asking Jaehee to do a Marvel themed costume with him since we couldn’t agree on what to do. I was uh, wondering if maybe you wanted to do a couples costume with me?”

Saeyoung nodded his head eagerly. “I’d love to but I’ll warn you, I’m not super creative so we can really do what you want and I’ll just be happy to be paired with you.”

Blushing you swept a piece of hair away from your face. “What do you mean you’re not creative?  You literally cosplay for fun?” You questioned the man sitting next to you and he shrugged nonchalantly.  “But… Well I was thinking of a couple from an old black and white silent film?”

“That’d be so cool! We’d wear our nicest black and white clothing and then paint our faces and hands with white paint and line our lips with black or grey coloring!”

“That’s exactly what I was going for, this is gonna be great!” You exclaimed turning to the worksheet that was just placed in front of you. “We can meet up later this week before halloween to go buy the paint.”

After work on Friday, Saeyoung picked you up in his fancy car and drove to the nearest costume shop. “Hey I was thinking maybe we could do something other than silent film actors? Maybe something like a classic couple? Maybe Bonnie and Clyde?” Saeyoung said, shifting through some of the costumes. “We could go to the thrift store and get the costumes from there. I’m just not sure I’m feeling a silent film couple.”

You considered Saeyoung’s idea for a moment before agreeing. “Sure, as long as you’re Clyde, I know how you like to dress up sometimes.”

Grinning, Saeyoung grabbed your hand and led you out of the costume shop. “I’d look good as either, but I’ll put you out of the misery of being Clyde since I don’t think you can pull it off.”

“Hey! I’ll let you know that I could be a damn good Clyde if I chose to be! You’d just look really good in a fedora.” Even though he was teasing, you felt your chest ache. Zen wouldn’t have said something like that and you found yourself missing him a little bit more than normal.

Ever since you couldn’t agree on a costume pair, you two had grown apart, he was busy planning a costume with Jaehee and you with Saeyoung, there was nothing to talk about other than your days, but even that only left you with a few short minutes of conversation. So you pushed that pain to the side and focused on where you were currently, trying on long pencil skirts and old fashioned blouses until Saeyoung approved of one of the ones you had picked.

Once he dropped you off at your apartment, you grinned at him through the passenger’s window. “I’m so excited to see how you’ll make the bloodstains look real. I can’t wait. Thanks again for doing this!”

With a faraway look in his eye, Saeyoung waived you off before driving away and you found yourself glancing at your phone to see if there was anything interesting you had missed. No text from Zen. Sighing, you pushed your phone back  in your pocket and headed up the stairs to your apartment, already planning on making some halloween cookies once you got settled.

Saturday night was the night of Jumin’s halloween fundraiser and you were buzzing with excitement, picking nervously at an invisible thread on your costume. Saeyoung had helped you pick out a costume, made some alterations to make it look like there was blood spatter and bullet holes on it and you looked amazing in it but you hadn’t seen his costume at all. He said you’d be surprised though.

When a knock sounded on your front door, you jumped up and opened it to meet Saeyoung in all black. “Hey, uh. Where’s your costume?” Saeyoung escorted you to the car and you were surprised when you looked in the back and saw a cardboard PacMan. “That doesn’t look like Clyde. Saeyoung, what’s going on?”

Saeyoung had a soft smile on his face as he backed out of your driveway and headed towards Jumin’s house. “You’ll see when we get there.”

The rest of the car ride was quiet, leaving you very confused. You had no idea what was going on and you couldn’t be Bonnie without a Clyde, no one would understand.

When you arrived at Jumin’s you got out of the car and patiently waited as Saeyoung put on his cardboard version of PacMan and you both walked into the fundraiser together. “MC!” You were pulled away from Saeyoung as soon as you walked in, Jumin pushing a drink into your hand. “I thought you and Zen weren’t going as a pair this year?”

You furrowed your brow as you took a sip of the punch that had yet to be spiked, most likely by Zen. “We aren’t. I was supposed to match with Saeyoung but he showed up at my door with a PacMan costume today. Now I look like a fool.”

“Evening, Bonnie. Don’t you look wonderful tonight.” You turned around and saw Zen standing in a Clyde Barrow costume, tipping his hat towards you charmingly. Jumin laughed lightly at the blush spreading on your cheeks.

“Mr. Barrow,” you responded, playing along with Zen’s introduction. “Fancy seeing you here in that.”

“Jaehee persuaded me to go as Clyde and said she’d be Bonnie. Much to my surprise, she showed up on my doorstep in a vampire costume.”

“It seems that Saeyoung and Jaehee planned this,” you noted. “Hey look I’m sor-”

“MC, I should apologize. I was a jerk and didn’t take into consideration your feelings about your money situation and what you wanted to do for halloween. Ditching you wasn’t cool.” Zen was rubbing at his arm again and you grabbed his hand, rubbing soothing circles into the palm of it with your thumb.

“Forgotten and forgiven. All that matters is that we’re here now and we ended up matching in damn good costumes, if I do say so myself.” Zen started leaning closer to you, his breath starting to brush over your lips and you felt your heartbeat pick up.

“MC! Zen! They’re about to announce the couple costume winners! You guys should go over because I heard that you two have a good shot. The winners get to choose which charity the money goes to this time!” Yoosung pushed his way through the crowd to get your attention, his purple PacMan costume slightly bent out of shape, and Zen leaned back and cleared his throat, gesturing towards the semi-tipsy blond.

“You heard the man, we should head over there.” Zen grabbed your hand and led you through the crowd, your heart feeling like it was floating over your head as the steady grip of his hand never left yours.

“The winners were voted by the crowd for the couples costume,” Jaehee paused as she pulled out her phone and Zen’s hand squeezed yours a little harder for that second. “Is MC and Zen as Bonnie and Clyde!” Zen pulled you to the front of the crowd so that you both could accept the envelope with the card in it, explaining all the charities that the money you won could go to.

“I suppose I owe you a congratulations, although everyone else’s costumes are boring compared to yours.” Jumin, who was dressed as Doctor Frankenstein, shook both of your hands and you couldn’t wipe the goofy grin off your face. “Did you want to make a speech?”

Zen was notorious for speeches, all of the RFA joked that the only reason he gave them was because he liked to hear his own voice and you weren’t entirely convinced that wasn’t true. “I don’t think so. I think this’ll speak for itself,”

Zen pulled you closer to him and you looked up questioningly at him. “Zen, what are you-”

Your best friend cut you off by placing his lips on yours. Shocked at first, you didn’t know how to react but once you realized what was happening, your arms wound around his neck, accidentally knocking his hat off in the process, and your eyes closed, you fully melted into the kiss. “I’ve been wanting to do that for about as long as I could remember.”

Pressing another kiss to his lips, you played with his hair that was put into a bun to hide under his hat. “I’m glad you did.”

Pulling away from Zen, you turned to all your friends who were watching this interaction quitely. Once they saw you both were done with your small moment, they erupted into cheers. “Finally!” Someone exclaimed and you laughed, bending down to pick up Zen’s fedora off the ground.

Placing it back on his head, he leaned down and kissed your lips again and brushed his fingers across your tinted pink cheeks. “If I haven’t told you already tonight, you look amazing, Bonnie.”

Putting your head in the crook of his neck you smiled, breathing in the scent that was so incredibly Zen that you had no other way to describe it. “You look pretty charming yourself, Clyde.”

[owillofthewisps]

soak you to the bone

notes: @witchernonsense posted these prompts a while back and the ‘reader drunk and sobbing over loss, Geralt utterly unsure of how to approach’ caught me but i left it alone for a bit.  and then i came back to it. and immediately deviated a bit.

title is from the amazing devil’s ‘welly boots’ (because leave it to me to be prompted by a specific lyric and then use another lyric from a different song)

please be a lil bit gentle with me on this one, folks.

rating: teen.  (warnings: angst, grief/mourning, parental death, unhealthy coping mechanisms, reader being cruel while drunk, brief mention of vomiting, no happy ending)

pairing: geralt of rivia/reader

word count: 1.5k

sometimes, grief can make you cruel.  sometimes, it’s easier to hurt instead of be hurt. 

“You’re drunk,” Geralt says, softer than you’d like.

“Mhmm.”

The wine has left you hazy, flows tacky through your veins and burns warm beneath your skin.  You tilt your head back, feel the faintest kiss of pain as the back of your skull hits the wall behind you.  The sting of it is veiled, shrouded by the wine.  It doesn’t matter.  There’s pain anyway, growing like brambles around your ribs, sinking thorns deep between the gaps in the bones.  It stings even through the cotton wrapped around you, bleeds through the bandage of the alcohol.

Geralt is at the threshold of your room.  He hovers ghostlike, at the edge of your world and lost with no map.  He’s wispy at the edges, the white of his hair like rolling fog, bleeding and blurring as you blink against the saltwater of your tears.  A specter all your own.

Am I not haunted enough, you think, the thought rising from the murky deep.  Your head feels like a stone dropped into a pond.  Sinking, too heavy to keep up.  There’s a hollow little thud, and you realize that you’ve banged your skull against the wall again. Your head spins, the world tilting, and you close your eyes, shut them tight against the whirl of it all.

Cloth rustles.  

You open your eyes to meet Geralt’s gaze.  His golden eyes flicker over you like sparks from a forge, pricking against you.  He’s hunkered down in front of you.  The space between the two of you is a chasm, the thin bridge of hard-won affection that crosses it wavering with uncertainty. Through the veil of the wine, you watch his hands flex into fists, knuckles whitening, and then relax again. 

You know he wants to touch you.  Have learned to recognize the hesitation that comes before his fingertip traces across your skin.  He looks small like this, somehow, like a predator caught in a steel trap meant for something else, something bigger.

“What is it?” he asks, each word slow.  You know what it has cost him to string even that simple question together.  

It’s skin cooling against yours; the slack of her mouth; the way her fingers droop even with yours wound between them; it’s the sobbing swelling in you and the way ‘mother’ slips from your lips like a tide; how that tide of ‘mother’ crashes against her empty shore over and over, waves breaking upon the shell of her, like you can call her back and tuck her into her body again because you are still so young and you need the home of her; it’s the way something in you goes cold, cold, cold.  It is all of those things and more, but you cannot find the words, cannot dredge them out of the sludge of wine, and so you don’t.

Instead -

“I saw her face in the mirror,” you tell him.  You curl up like a fern, pull your knees to your chest.   “Her face instead of mine, something hazy and sharp, pieces of her stitched together in my likeness, in my form.  I have her mouth, you know.”

“I know,” Geralt says, and the unusual tenderness in him makes you wild inside, makes something mad in you throw itself against the jagged cliffs that rise high in your chest. There is heat streaking down your cheeks, and you realize that you are crying, tears trickling unsteadily against your skin.

“I want all of her, every piece I can have, want to swallow it down and build her again between my ribs,” you rasp, the words slurring together.  “I want all of her.  Even the pieces that were never mine to begin with.  But I still want to be me, too.  It hurts so terribly.”

Vaguely, you realize that the keening, animal whine that is filling the room is spilling from you.  Geralt’s hands flutter just shy of your skin, like moths circling light.  A sob claws its way out of your throat.  It tears merciless from you, rasps against your throat and slides bitter against your tongue, and then you cannot stop it.  You heave and shake apart into the wine’s tender, sour grasp, its fingers closing around your chest until you are drowning in your own tears.

Geralt does not touch you. You feel the gap between his hovering fingers and your skin like a void, a canyon yawning between you. You want to push into his touch; you’ve grown used to it. In the few months you’ve spent together, it’s become a common thing, the brush of his hand against yours, or the press of your lips against his collarbone. The Witcher has let you peek between the gaps in his shield.  There is something delicate between you, each of you treading careful and slow in new territory.  

“I know,” Geralt says again, but you can see the uncertainty.  “It will pass, as all emotions do.”

Something ugly starts to unwind in you.

“What do you know of emotion, Witcher,” you snarl, the words ripping from somewhere deep inside you, from the feral little creature that’s been curled inside you with its teeth sunk deep, deep, deep, cracking the bones of your ribcage until it aches to take even the shallowest of breaths, “you have none.”

You are drunk, you know, but there is clarity in cruelty. Wine has always given you sharp teeth. And you have always known where to sink them in.

“Grief is just a word to you,” you hiss.  “Just a word, a jumble of letters on a page that you pretend to understand.”

Geralt’s expression doesn’t change, but suddenly - suddenly he is closed off like a shuttered window, wood over delicate glass, solid instead of opaque, a void where the soft light used to spill from him.  

He rises to his feet without a word. He lingers for a moment, stays in place near you, but you cannot find it in you to apologize, can feel the anger and the grief buzzing in you like a wasp’s nest and know you will only continue to sting.

The door clicks shut behind Geralt.

You rest your forehead against your knees and sob.  You can taste the wine where it coats your tongue like oil, sweet and dry and roiling in your stomach.  It will come up soon, you know, will spill from your mouth as bile, dark from the rot it absorbed in you.  

That ugly thing purrs.  It is satisfied now, free from where you’d trapped it when it first gnawed and snarled at the idea of caring for someone new.

Apologize in the morning, you think.  Find words for the terror of letting him close, the terror of gaining someone else to lose.

Beneath the wine’s fog, some part of you whispers that there are things that apologies can’t heal.

You crawl to bed.  

You wake in the morning with stones in your head, rumbling against each other every time you shift.  It’s like a sword beating against a shield.  By the time you stumble down the stairs of the inn, nausea brewing low in your stomach, breakfast is half-done.  You glance around before you settle into a seat with a greasy sausage and a thick hunk of bread.

The bread settles your stomach, just slightly, and you stay seated, your bleary gaze wandering the room.  You idly toy with a small dagger, sharply honed by Geralt’s steady hand, gouging the point into the thick wood of the table.

Finally, you find the courage to ask the innkeeper the question you already know the answer to.  And you are right.

Geralt left in the night.

It’s fine, you think, packing up your saddlebags.  If you unconsciously leave space for the few things Geralt has you carry, it’s not as if he will ever know.  It’s fine, you think again, shouldering one of your bags and stepping out into the empty hallway.

“It’s fine,” you tell yourself as you push coin to the innkeeper, who raises a brow but keeps his mouth shut.

You step out of the inn and into the sunlight.  The road is bustling, merchants with their full carts and children darting about between the houses that line the street. You turn to Geralt to point out the herbalist’s cart, piled high with herbs - you can just see a tuft of white flowers that you know he is running low on - and stop.  You take a deep breath and turn away from the empty space behind you, and orient yourself towards your next destination.  Each step makes something in you rattle.

The crowded main road has never felt so empty.

                                                       ---

taglist: @writingstudent @hina-chans-stuff @1950schick @msgeorgiarae @nonamejustshame @stretchkingblog97 @fairytale07 @alwayshave-faith @sageandberries-png @tutuwho @beautifuluniversityhoagieslime @ayamenimthiriel @bumblingandblooming 

[halothenthehorns]

TLTNL THE THIRD TASK

Lily sat there, fidgeting in unease before she forced herself to start her chapter, but at least there was the comfort that the last task coming up would be the last of it.

Noticing his wife's hesitation, James gave her the chance to stall for a few moments more as he called to Sirius, "you going to sulk over there all day?" He wanted Sirius in easy smacking distance if he found an excuse to use his name pun again.

Sirius stretched leisurely, eyed his mate for the tone, but then got to his feet and decided it was worth the risk as he flopped back on Harry's side and declared, "Who's sulking? Just because I don't want to sit by your ugly mug all day."

"You've tragically put up with it for years," Remus reminded, "I think you can stand it a little while longer."

Lily actually managed a giggle at the boys picking as she began.

Ron asked if Dumbledore really thought You-Know-Who was getting stronger?

"Why do we keep starting these chapters with Ron recounting stuff?" Lily sighed. "I'd be much happier listening to you all discuss your Charms homework."

"Glad you would," James wrinkled his nose, "I'd rather keep talking about all the ways to get Snape out of that school."

Harry had just finished recounting his Pensieve event to his friends, after first writing it all and sending it to Sirius.

"Finally," Sirius gave a dramatic sniff, "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me."

"How could I ever do such a thing?" Harry demanded back in exasperation, "you keep talking in my ear about how important you are."

"He learns fast," Remus snickered.

  The three had been sitting around ever since exchanging all the knowledge they'd gained this year, and Harry's head finally understood what Dumbledore meant about wanting to siphon a bit off.

"You're fourteen, you shouldn't have to know what that feels like yet," Lily sighed.

"I don't know, I had the most thoughts in my head when I hit that age," Sirius smirked.

Lily kept reading, loudly, before she had to hear any more about that.

Ron was mostly stuck on the fact that Dumbledore trusted Snape, though he'd been confirmed as a Death Eater.

Hermione hadn't spoken for a time while Harry and Ron spoke, her head bent towards her knees as she looked like she could do with a Pensieve as well. Her first words were Rita Skeeter.

James began laughing raucously at once, bright eyes shining as he said, "I'm just so glad Hermione has her priorities in line."

"You ever worry about Hermione becoming a wee bit obsessed?" Remus snickered.

"What, her? No, never," Sirius' tone was going to bleed him out of sarcasm with that one sentence.

Ron demanded how she could be worrying about her?

"Worry is the wrong word," Lily shook her head.

Hermione corrected she was thinking about what Skeeter, and Winky had said about what they knew about Bagman. That Death Eater trial where he'd been accused must be it.

"You guys put that stuff together so much faster," Harry sighed.

"Helps to have more than one genius in the room," Sirius smirked.

"Hey!" Harry yelped.

Ron asked if Fudge really thought Maxime had been the one to get rid of Crouch, and Harry agreed Fudge had said so, while Ron did acknowledge they'd never considered her before, and she did have giant blood and didn't want to admit it.

"Well yes, but that doesn't actually have anything to do with Crouch," James rolled his eyes at Ron trying to put every mundane thing together.

Hermione said she didn't blame her, look at what happened to Hagrid, but that didn't mean she had motive. Hermione would lie as well.

"I'll give her that," Lily nodded fairly, "it's practically suicide in this day and age just to go around saying you're a Muggleborn, but I still don't think that gives you the right to throw other people under the bus to protect yourself."

"We don't know that's what Maxime did," Harry sighed in defense of her.

"True, but we can't think of any other ways Rita's getting these interviews without a first person account," Sirius' scowl didn't lessen one bit.

Then Hermione checked her watch and began scolding them all at once for not having done any practice tonight, they'd have to work extra hard tomorrow on their curses. Then she ordered Harry off to bed.

Harry'd made the joke before, but it really was something to hear his friend try to mother him while his mother read that.

While Harry crawled into bed, his eyes flickered over to Neville in the adjacent one. True to his promise, he had not mentioned that lone part about his parents.

Lily's voice hitched into unrecognizable as she forced that out, her hands trembling slightly along the pages as she couldn't get the image of Alice screaming in pain out of her head.

Harry had often received sympathy for being an orphan, but Harry thought Neville deserved it more for having parents that were alive and didn't even recognize him.

"I really don't think anyone should be deciding who gets more sympathy for what they go through in life," James sighed. "You just happen to be slightly more public, but I can almost guarantee if Neville didn't have his scary grandmother around him outside of school, he'd be getting the same thing." His mind lingered on how well known and liked the Longbottoms were, and even Dumbledore saying how the public had been whipped into a panic of what happened to them. It was just as likely the people in that day knew Neville's name as well as Harry's, though he could believe not the other kids their age.

As Harry drifted off to sleep, he thought of all the people that continued to be harmed by the Death Eaters; the Longbottoms, Crouch's son. It was all Voldemort's doing, his existence that continued ruining all these lives.

"It can help to look at the big picture," Remus sighed in agreement.

Ron and Hermione were supposed to be studying for their exams,

"Almost forgot you got exempt from those," Remus said in surprise.

"I didn't," Sirius rolled his eyes, "it's so far the only good thing that's come of this mess."

which would finish on the day of the third task, but they were putting most of their efforts into helping Harry prepare.

"I really love your friends," Lily smiled sweetly.

"As do I," James agreed, "but I don't know why you bring this up now. I'd do anything to stop studying for exams, helping out my friend is just a bonus."

When Harry tried to convince them of this, Hermione just brushed him off, saying this was just extra studying for their DADA class.

Sirius mock gasped in outrage, "how dare Hermione equate practicing useful spells to learning in a classroom, I'm shamed for her."

"I'll pass the message along," Harry chuckled.

Ron agreed this was all good training for when they all became Aurors, while managing to Impediment a wasp buzzing around.

They were all genuinely impressed at that skill, not just anyone could hit a moving target small as a bug.

"I'm believing that more and more as this goes on," James chuckled as he looked to Harry. "You really think you go on to do that?" He emphasized the word think so as not to upset Harry.

He mulled it over for a bit, but only gave a small smile for an answer while saying, "I can see it, but I don't know if that's just me at fourteen still seeing it."

"So how many Auror noses have you seen to change your opinion?" Remus smirked.

Harry chuckled lightly at the joke again, though he did somehow wonder if he ever did meet other Aurors besides Mad-Eye?

The mood in the castle couldn't be more excited as everyone was looking forward to the last task a week before school ended.

Despite the nerves coloring her tone, there was also some palpable relief mixed in. Finally the last task, this really should be the end of their big worries the rest of this year. It didn't matter how stupid it was to be afraid of these things looking at her full grown boy, those tasks were a nightmare.

Harry was practicing hexes at every available moment.

"On who exactly?" James asked innocently. "Just so we can keep track is all."

"Harry doesn't go around doing that like some people," Lily snapped at him before Harry could respond.

James rolled his eyes, but Harry blinked at the pair in surprise. It was foolish to think James hadn't cursed Snape at some point with all the animosity they'd been throwing around, and yes they'd admitted several times now to pranks, a few of which had some bad results, but just how often did his dad go around cursing people for the fun of it? It sounded more like something Malfoy would do for kicks? He'd really always put his mother's comments like that down to her exasperation, but the more she said it, the more sure he was she wasn't really exaggerating.

He was walking into this third task more confident than he ever had for the others as he realized Moody was right, he had faced barriers and enchantments like this before, and he'd even had time to prepare for these.

Harry was immediately distracted by wanting to laugh at his younger self for being an idiot. Something about this task was going to go horribly wrong, he'd been thinking that from day one of rehearing about this, and he still had no clue what.

McGonagall had quickly grown tired of walking in on the three practicing in empty classrooms, and so had allowed them to be using hers while she wasn't.

"Sounds like McGonagall," Sirius nodded along. "Tries to hide her act of helpfulness by saying it annoyed her otherwise."

Harry had quickly mastered a plethora of useful Curses, as well as a handy find called the Four-Point spell, which pointed him north and would help him find his way along in the maze. Now all he was struggling with was his Shield Charm.

"That's a common tricky one," Remus agreed, "instead of one burst of energy to blast a spell, you're expected to hold it up and linger on the magic, very hard for people to learn to adapt to."

He was still stumbling around after Hermione's Jelly-Legs Jinx got through his.

"Now see, wouldn't wiggling ears be better than that," James smirked.

Ron was hovering by the window going over some new lists of spells, and called them over to have a look at Malfoy.

"Nothing good," all the boys muttered at once.

They peaked down and saw Malfoy and his usual cronies all huddled under a tree, Crabbe and Goyle apparently keeping watch and smirking.

"Definitely not good," Sirius corrected.

Malfoy was holding his hand up to his mouth and speaking into it.

Harry's eyes narrowed behind his glasses, for some reason he was convinced now more than ever Malfoy was talking to an electronic bug, no matter how impossible Hermione said it could be, but why now though? What could Malfoy be doing down there?

Harry guessed he was using a walkie-talkie from the looks of it.

"What's that?" James asked eagerly.

"You talk into one end, and you can hear someone on the other end," Remus shrugged, "good for long distance type things, but they do have a range shorter than a telephone."

"That sounds brilliant," at once his eyes gleamed, and they could all guess what he was immediately thinking before he said it. "Wish we had those at school, would have come in real handy."

"Sadly, as I'm sure Hermione's fixing to remind, it wouldn't have done us any good," Sirius sighed.

Hermione again repeated how those wouldn't work here, and then told Harry he had to get back to work on that Shield Charm.

"But we were actually having fun spying on Malfoy instead of vice versa for a change," Sirius sighed.

Sirius was sending daily owls now.

"I am biting my tongue not to make a mother hen joke at you right now," Remus snickered.

Sirius sighed and grumbled a bit, but knew he would have taken it in stride if anyone had, he both deserved it, and thought he was in the right to be doing so as well as everyone else. Even Harry couldn't be too annoyed at his paranoid Godfather, the constant mail and worry was the most support and worry he'd ever got in his life.

They were all filled with warnings to concentrate on getting out of this task and leave everything else for afterwards because it wasn't his responsibility or in his power to do anything for now.

"I don't really think that part was necessary though," James had a fixed smile in place as he really wanted to snap at Sirius for overstepping his bounds, and then having to remind himself Sirius was the only one there setting those bounds. "He's not like you, he doesn't think the outside world revolves around him as much as that castle."

Sirius laughed because he knew he was supposed to, but no one could miss the catch of annoyance in James' voice. To be honest it was the first time Harry noticed it though, and he felt like an idiot it had taken him this long to realize his dad might be jealous of Sirius doing all this. He wasn't really sure what to say though, it felt like an empty promise to tell someone they couldn't be replaced when he'd never met him before, while it would also be downplaying how much he really was touched at everything Sirius did for him.

Sirius promised that after this was all over, they could put their attention on other matters.

"What other matters?" Remus couldn't help but ask even if it didn't help the odd lingering silence in the room. "What exactly do you plan to do with him once this task is over, take him Voldemort hunting?"

"Nah," Sirius waved him off, "more like take him into the forest and give him some survival skills, that seems like much more fun."

"The worst part is, I can't decide if either of you are kidding," Lily muttered as she decided to ignore them both.

Harry was starting to grow uneasy the closer the date began, but it wasn't nearly so bad as the previous two. At least this one he'd done everything possible to be prepared for.

"To be fair, I still don't see how you could have been 'prepared' for the first task. You weren't given anything to work with," James pointed out to sketch out his own feelings.

"Least with this one I wasn't having crazy time jump skips," Harry shrugged, "it finally felt, I don't know, final."

There was something about the way he said that that gave them all a deep chill that even Harry didn't seem aware, he had a faraway look in his eyes when he finished.

The best part was, this was the final one. Good or bad, after this it would all be over.

"There's the bright side," Lily said with forced chipper that didn't seem to get through to anyone, not even herself.

Breakfast of the morning gave Harry a special treat, Sirius had sent him an extra good luck note. It was only a muddy paw print on a page, but Harry smiled as he tucked it away.

Sirius covered the happy feeling that gave him with a snort of mirth, telling Harry, "always good to know what you appreciate, just let me nip out into the rain right quick and I'll be back with a whole room full of mud."

"You'll do no such thing," Lily said at once without looking up, "I haven't forgiven you for singing my rug yet."

Sirius blanched and sat very far back in his seat, dang, she had noticed.

An owl arrived with Hermione's Daily Prophet, and while she began unfolding it and taking a sip of her drink, she quickly spat that in surprise.

"That's an encouraging start!" Remus went bug eyed at once, all of them feeling like jumping out of their seat at once in panic.

Both boys tried to ask what was going on even as she tried to tuck it away,

"Exactly how believable does she think that is?" James demanded faintly.

but Ron was quicker and took it away. His first words were to call someone a cow.

Harry at once guessed Skeeter, while Ron tried for a no more effective plan of putting the paper out of Harry's sights.

Sirius actually did laugh, Harry really had the best friends who were far more alike than they ever would have admitted aloud, both thinking that would work.

Harry was in no way surprised as he guessed it was about him, while both answered no in the same unconvincing tone.

"Should we be worried they're compulsive liars?" Remus rolled his eyes, still forcing himself to remain in his seat rather than trying to take a peek over Lily's shoulder already and find out what this was.

Harry hadn't a chance to argue anymore as Malfoy called from the Slytherin table about how Harry was going to go berserk on them any moment.

"Err," Harry muttered in surprise. Malfoy had used a lot of lame insults on him, but that had certainly come out of nowhere.

"Oh just tell your friends to give you the paper already," Lily scowled hatefully, "might as well get it over with."

"It's not like he can avoid it," James regretfully agreed.

Malfoy had his own copy of the paper in his hands, and all along the table Slytherins were laughing and pointing at their heads and casting Harry looks.

"To be fair, the whole hall was actually looking at me that way," Harry grumbled, "Malfoy just somehow has this way of spotlighting his table."

Lily gave him a small smile for that, happy to see he really didn't just single out that house.

Ron finally handed over the paper and Harry read the headline 'Potter Disturbed and Dangerous'

Lily could already tell someone was wanting to interrupt her with a splurge of anger, but though red faced and furious herself at just the start, she forced out.

Rita Skeeter began her report by stating their Boy Who Lived could possibly be unstable.

"Gets right to the bleeding point with this one," Remus said through gritted teeth.

Evidence had begun appearing about Potter's strange behavior, casting doubts on his suitability to compete in the Triwizard Tournament,

"No one was arguing he shouldn't be in the Tournament!" Sirius blasted.

"Though for completely different reasons than this," Harry shook his head in disgust.

or even to attend Hogwarts.

"Oi!" Harry shouted indignantly at once at that one. Taking digs at him was one thing, but to say he shouldn't even be allowed at his favorite place on earth!

There were reports of him regularly collapsing at school and complaints of head pain resonating from his scar, an old relic of You-Know-Who's attempts on Harry's life.

"Someone in your Divination class really went and told about this?" Sirius barked in disgust.

"But, they're all, well I mean, not one of those kids should have a reason to," James's face was coloring with hurt for his son.

"Well someone blabbed," Lily spat.

Monday Potter had even been unable to complete one of his Divination lessons, the reporter had witnessed him storming out.

"Witnessed?" They all parroted.

"She can't mean that one, it must be an exaggerated detail," Remus said at once. "There's no way she's following you around the school, even if she was using an Invisibility Cloak, someone should have caught her, or something."

"Maybe she's just not doing it anywhere near Moody's class," James offered without hope, as Sirius immediately pointed out the very flaw he'd been thinking in that.

"It still doesn't explain some of her earlier times, like Hermione and Krum, where Moody confirmed Skeeter wasn't anywhere around. She must be using the same method to hear all of this, how many tools can she have?"

"I guess, Remus is right," Lily sounded far too regretful to be saying that in Remus' opinion, "she must have made that detail up to give credibility."

"Or hide her source," Sirius scowled, still thinking an eyewitness to this was the most likely.

Harry chose not to confirm, or deny any of this for fear of the pain it would cause, but he couldn't deny even to himself how sure he was they were wrong, Skeeter had been there...

Skeeter had even interviewed some Medics from St. Mungo's, who had offered another suggestion that the original attack may just be causing some delusions of pain.

Lily was spluttering in shock and hatred before she could even get that all out.

"How the bloody hell would anyone know that!" Remus snarled. "Dumbledore doesn't even know what's going on with Harry's scar, who are they to say what could be affecting him?"

"With any luck it's more of Skeeter making everything up to fit her story," Harry sighed to try and curb them all just a bit, he was still far more distracted with the upcoming task to really bring himself to care about whatever Skeeter said about him.

One even agreed he could be pretending all of this for attention.

James snarled in outrage for that one! Harry hadn't had any say in this article being posted, had hardly mentioned to any more than four people of this pain, who was anyone to call his son that!

Harry did feel an echo of that being said to him before though, and wondered just how popular this article became, how many people believed he'd become attention seeking? Why would they!

The Daily Prophet had found even more facts to be released to the public that Albus Dumbledore never had.

"Because it's private information!" Sirius howled in outrage, already more than sick of watching this ruin his friend's life, now his little pup was next. "Where does this woman get off putting anything about Harry's life without his say so?"

"I think the Muggles have some laws against that," Lily seethed, "and I really want to start looking into it. Normally we have spells that detect when lies are being told about someone on print, and then you have to sign something saying it's not being used for educational purposes if that happens to your work. Clearly the Daily Prophet does not endorse that, and new laws need to be put in place so they do."

"Lockhart found a way around those," Remus reminded, "if he can, I'd believe anyone can."

"I will fund that project," James vowed.

Draco Malfoy had confirmed Potter spoke Parseltongue,

"I'm honestly surprised he's waited so long to tell the press," Harry sighed. "As much as he likes to brag of his father's connections."

"Guess it didn't occur to him until this year how much fun it could be," James thought his face was going to get stuck in that scowl and he still couldn't change it.

Remus was frowning in confusion though, thinking there was no way it was a coincidence Malfoy had been spotted doing something certainly not good, and only a few days later this was coming up. What on earth had Malfoy been doing that day that connected to Skeeter now knowing this?

and there had been a lot of attacks in their second year that all seemed to revolve around Potter who was known for easily losing his temper. It was all hushed up, but this had all come from the same guy who was friends with a giant and a werewolf.

Remus felt himself flush as that really registered. It had never occurred to him what his even talking to Harry could do to him publicly. Not that Harry had ever showed he cared about that, but it certainly wasn't comforting when Remus realized he seemed to have done Harry far more harm than good his one year there, his one lone helpful bit was something that any competent teacher could have taught him after all- "ouch! Merlin's shit Sirius, that hurt!"

Sirius said nothing back, his face absolutely clear saying he'd do worse if Remus started a guilt trip for this, he didn't even tuck his wand away as Lily uneasily kept going.

The article briefly explains what Parseltongue is, and how it was known for only being done by those of Dark Arts.

Harry sighed as he remembered back to even how his family had looked at him when they'd first found out about this, and had no delusions there wasn't a person left on earth who now wouldn't consider him some freak.

"I think it's cool," his dad surprised him by saying with a sniffy voice. "No matter how he got it, I'll give him credit for something unique. People are just jealous."

"I'm so sure that's it," Sirius snickered on his other side, "in fact, you'd think Harry would get some thanks for this, he could start his own service. Any time you have a snake problem, just call Harry, he'll come over and talk the snake out of the house."

James was trying to hide his laughter in his hand, while Lily was forcing herself to keep going around these boys' antics.

A member of the Dark Force Defense League had been quoted saying how he found anyone with the ability untrustworthy and needing to be investigated.

"Investigated of what?" Harry asked in surprise.

"No clue," James rolled his eyes, "but I trust it's nothing good."

"I can't wait until the next article now," Sirius deadpanned. "She's gone from putting you in three different lights now, you think she'll switch back around to one, or try another new angle?"

"Here's hoping Hermione catches her before we have to find out," Lily huffed.

The quote continued by saying that anyone who associated with such Dark creatures as giants and werewolves would be more than likely to have a fondness for violence and this shouldn't surprise anyone.

Sirius still had his wand held threateningly in his hand, as he kept his eye on their werewolf, he'd do it again if he caught Moony thinking like that, idiot that he was.

Remus for his part was grumbling in annoyance and still rubbing his knee where the stinging hex had hit, but at least grateful he hadn't gotten a whole mouthful speech accompanied by James, yet.

Dumbledore should be considering whether a boy such as this should be allowed to compete in the Triwizard Tournament.

"If I actually get kicked out of the Tournament because of her, I think I'll thank her," Harry shook his head.

"I think I'd be just a tad annoyed," James said without a trace of meaning it. "You've come so far, may as well get your last kicks in."

"Wasn't it my suggestion Harry should act like a lunatic to get thrown out in the first place," Sirius said with an obvious look at Remus, waiting to be corrected. "Where's my thanks if that happens to be true."

It was not forthcoming as Remus was now glaring at the fire and obviously trying to ignore them, so Harry filled the awkward silence. "I'll send you a letter."

The public should be fearing Potter using his Dark Arts to even win such a prize on this very night.

"She did a really bad job of posting this so late," Lily sniffed, "if her goal was to get you booted out of the Tournament, they couldn't have pulled it off in time anyways."

"Well darn," James snapped his fingers, "next time she writes something about Harry, I'll make sure it gets forwarded."

Harry was at least laughing slightly at them all playing this off.

Harry was not impressed as he folded the paper and handed it back to Hermione.

"What an underwhelming reaction," Sirius shook his head at him. "I'm sure Ron and Hermione were disappointed, did they expect you to go off the rails when you saw that?"

Harry shrugged and laughed at the idea, wondering for a moment why he had a spot of guilt at yelling at his friends about anything?

At the Slytherin table, Malfoy and his friends were still busy making faces at him and wagging their tongues like snakes.

"I'd imagine they look stupider than they're trying to make Harry look," Lily snapped at the idiots.

Ron was scanning through the article more carefully now, asking aloud how she'd known about his Divination moment.

Harry reminded he'd opened the window, maybe she'd heard it from the grounds.

"There's no way she heard you from the top of the North Tower," Remus disagreed, finally stopping his glaring at Sirius, and probably not even going to get him back for it later.

Hermione disagreed that still shouldn't have made it possible, while Harry asked if she had any updates on this magical bugging thing she had to be doing.

Hermione's face went slack in a dreamy expression.

"Err," the boys muttered, partly in concern, and partly in confusion of what had struck Hermione with that line.

The two watched as she first ran her fingers through her hair, and then brought her hand up to her mouth and muttering into her palm.

The only thing they could work out from that was Lily's muttered, "so, did she figure out what's going on?"

"I have no idea how those two things are supposed to be put together," James huffed, wondering when the surprise would wear off Hermione seemed to know a lot more than them.

The boys exchanged a look as Hermione muttered off into space about how this would be perfect, even Moody wouldn't spot it, and she could have been at all of these places.

"How on earth did that fourteen year old tie all this in together," Sirius threw his hands up in frustration.

"Must be magic we haven't seen yet," Remus scowled in frustration, "we've already seen that at least a few times, you know it's always adapting and new spells are invented every few years. That's the only thing I can think of, Skeeter's doing something we've never heard of."

Somewhere deep inside, Harry wanted to laugh at the idea of the Marauders saying this, but aloud he agreed it was just frustrating Hermione never shared what she was thinking.

Hermione yelped about going to the library to confirm something and then darted off.

"What on earth has that library ever done to her, to possess her like this," James groaned.

"She wouldn't be Hermione if she didn't check her work," Harry shrugged.

Ron called to her retreating back they had a History of Magic exam in ten minutes! Then he turned to Harry in shock, saying how much their friend had to hate her to possibly risk missing the start of an exam.

"It's good to see Hermione's finally sorted out her priorities," Sirius smiled for that one.

Then he asked if Harry was going to spend the test reading?

"I think I just felt my heart break," James declared as he eyed his boy. "Reading, during class, what has come over you?"

"I've nothing else to do," he smirked and shrugged at the same time. "Can't even doodle with Ron since he's the one who's busy, and I got caught last time for trying to practice spells. I'd go crazy if I just had to sit there staring at the ceiling."

"Oh yes, fine," James muttered.

Harry had spent all previous exams doing this, looking up more spells to practice for his third task, and Harry agreed he was most likely going to do so this time until McGonagall approached him.

"Has that ever been a good thing?" Lily groaned.

"Not that I can recall," Remus sighed.

She told him the champions were all meeting in the adjacent chamber after breakfast.

"Why!" Harry practically screeched, wondering if he'd somehow gotten the time stamps wrong.

"Relax, I'm sure you'll ask her then," Lily soothed, not denying one bit she was biting at her lip in worry as well as their semi joke still stood.

Harry began panicking at once, saying the task wasn't going to start until tonight!

McGonagall agreed she was aware,

"She gets so crispy about things being pointed out to her," Sirius couldn't help but utter with an old smirk.

this had to do with the champion's families coming to visit, and they'd be staying to watch the final.

"Err no, actually I didn't know," Harry admitted, wondering if anyone had mentioned this before and he hadn't been paying attention.

He wasn't too surprised when no one around him looked particularly enthused at this kind of declaration, they were all thinking the same as him, it's not like Sirius was going to be there.

She left then, Harry gaping in surprise that she actually thought the Dursleys would make an appearance.

"Somewhere in there is a really good question about whether Muggles would be allowed to attend this," Remus sneered.

"My best guess is still a not," Lily snarled. The only thing she'd ever even heard of coming close to this was a mention of Moaning Myrtle's parents coming up to school, and even then they'd never gotten confirmation of whether the girl was Muggleborn and this would be a problem, and if it was if they would have met outside the school premises...and all of this had nothing to do with the fact that the Dursleys would sooner make an appearance than hug Hagrid.

Ron gave a shrug, but then had to excuse himself to go off to his test.

Harry finished his breakfast slowly as the rest of the Hall emptied as well. He watched his fellow Champions making their way to that door behind the staff table, but Harry wasn't even going to bother poking his head in. He had no family-

Lily's voice gained a terrible hitch, but she forced herself to read past that moment and pretend like it never happened. Her Hare Bare was here with her now, he had all the family he could ever want, and damn these books for saying otherwise.

at least none who would turn up to see him risk his life.

Remus was twisting the sleeve of his robes down so hard, a few loose strings were appearing, that didn't change how bad this hurt. It had only just occurred to him, but he'd never even sent Harry a concerned note about him being in the Tournament. He'd had a million opportunities since his departure, and had never once reached out to try and be any part of Harry's life. There was a better chance of the Dursley's making an appearance than him by this point.

As Harry was finally leaving, thoughts of going to the library himself to do some hex research,

"That's what I always want to do whenever I think of those Muggles," Sirius snapped.

the door opened and Cedric told Harry to hurry up, they were waiting on him.

"They?" everyone repeated in shock, their mind floundering to come up with any good explanations for who this could be, and just as equally hurt that it was so confusing anyone would show up.

Utterly perplexed, Harry changed directions. The Dursleys couldn't possibly be here, could they?

James struggled hard to get the words out, "did you want them to be?"

Harry sat there for a long time in silence, his mind suddenly back to three years old and trying to ask his Aunt Petunia why they never said they loved him like they did to Dudley all the time, and only getting the same response he ever did, 'don't ask questions.' He knew for a long time in his childhood some part of him had wanted to understand why he'd never been cared for, and then he'd gotten his answer, so he responded with clear sincerity, "sure, would finally be able to curse them and not get in trouble."

The honestly unexpected joke caused them all to crack up laughing, hard. Harry making light of this was a blow none of them could gloss over, it would never not incite murder in all of them at the mention of those useless beings, but at least the bright smile he got for making them laugh felt worth it.

Inside was Krum talking to a dark haired man who Krum held similar features with, and a woman, all three speaking Bulgarian. Fleur was off to one side jabbering in French with a beautiful woman who had to be her mother, and Gabrielle.

Sirius opened, then closed his mouth. Remarkably thought about it for a moment, then decided screw it and really did ask, "How exactly is she part veela? I mean, I've never even heard of how Veela reproduce, they're an all female species, so are they asexual unless they sleep with a wizard or?" He watched the others dumbfounded faces for a moment, before cracking a smile and saying, "what, don't tell me you haven't been wondering the same thing. Now I'm realizing, with her dad not being there, well-"

"Please stop," Lily practically begged. "One, it's none of your business Sirius, and two, we've no idea."

She actually paused like she expected, almost hopefully, someone to correct her, because she wasn't pretending to deny it was a good question.

Remus thought about it for a moment, stating, "The only facts I can offer is if you take a hair from a veela's head, they're said to die, but I somehow don't see Fleur speaking of her grandmother like that if she'd been killed, so most likely the veela pulled it out herself as a gift."

"That was not helpful, about anything," James pointed out.

Mrs. Weasley and Bill were standing in front of the fireplace, beaming at him.

Lily felt her voice tying off, equal amounts of annoyance and even hurt rearing up at Molly making an appearance for her baby after all the embarrassment and even idiotic ways she'd acted towards both him and Hermione this year, all while also just a warm flood of gratitude there was still someone out there looking out for Harry.

Her reaction was subtle to Harry's, who flushed in shock and began stammering something even he wasn't quite sure of. An apology to those around him, gratitude being the most dominant thing to him for even though he'd never said it aloud, throughout his years he'd pictured the Weasley's the closest thing he'd ever have to a family, he'd never realized they'd felt the same!

"How would they even have known to come?" James's voice sounded odd, but he genuinely seemed to be trying more for curiosity than what he knew his wife was feeling. "I mean, if the notice they could appear at the final task went out to families?"

"Maybe Dumbledore personally sent it?" Sirius tried, "I've no doubt he knows Harry spends the majority of his time at the Weasley's over the holidays, so kind of as a courtesy thing?"

"All that tells me," Remus was trying hard not to frown, "was that Dumbledore must have a good idea of Harry's feelings for the Dursleys though." His voice came out too sharp, he was still more frustrated with himself for being right about not being there than anything.

They all felt a lot of different things about this moment, but one look at Harry and suddenly they were almost at peace with it as well. This had to be the first time they'd seen that kind of smile on his face this whole time, the only moment that had come close was when his real relation to Sirius had been revealed, and that had been pretty muted compared to the following events. So Lily bit off the head of how she was really feeling about this, put it away in a corner for later, and managed to keep going with a true smile.

Mrs. Weasley shouted surprise at him.

"Understatement," Sirius muttered.

She gave him a kiss on the cheek as she explained they'd come to watch, while Bill asked how he was doing?

"Eh," James sighed, waving his hand vaguely, though Harry thought that was more to do with his actual answer than answering for Harry.

Charlie had told them all about that Horntail and how incredible he was.

"Charlie's the lucky one," Remus muttered under his breath, thinking so far no task had really gone well enough for any spectators to exactly be 'enjoying' these events, but that was probably just his personal opinion. He could only imagine picturing this through someone other than Harry, and it could sound like a bit more fun.

Fleur was eyeing Bill with great interest over her mother's shoulder.

Harry tried very hard to forcefully smother laughter for no real reason he could tell.

She clearly had no objection to long hair or earrings with fangs on them.

"A lot of girls don't," Sirius' grin flipped to saucy at once, "I considered getting one myself, though of course now I'd just be accused of doing it because of Bill."

"Yes Sirius," James said back deadpan, "every woman you meet will think the kid who's more like my babies age absolutely pulled this look first."

Sirius' smile actually brightened all the more.

Harry was thanking them both, muttering his surprise that for an actual moment he'd thought the Dursleys-

Mrs. Weasley cut him off by pursing her lips tight. She'd never said anything about them to Harry, but he always saw her eyes flash when they were mentioned.

"Remind me, how did she take the news of starving and bars?" Lily muttered, but there was no real ill will in there. She knew now like she had then she didn't blame Molly for this in the first place, Harry refused to say much of anything on them really, so Molly had slowly been drawing her own conclusions after that event. If it was even a portion of what she'd conjured up in believing Skeeter's stories about Harry and Hermione, Molly was still only hitting the tip of the iceberg when it came to the Dursleys.

Bill didn't seem to notice, as he began talking about how great it was to be back at the castle, he hadn't been here for five years.

"Wow so he's actually, eleven, now. Give or take a birthday, it's really hard to picture." Sirius said mostly to himself.

"I'm sure a lot of this'll be hard to picture if we ever get out of here," Remus rolled his eyes as just a few instances came to mind.

He asked about the Fat Lady still being Gryffindor's portrait, and Mrs. Weasley said she'd even been here in her time.

"I was under the impression she's always been the Gryffindor portrait," James agreed.

She used to give such telling offs when her and Arthur returned late-

Bill cut his mother off in surprise, asking what she was doing out of bed after hours?

"Well why'd he go cutting her off for!" Sirius yelped in protest. "That could have been some amazing fodder to use against his mother, especially if he passed it along to the twins next time she went off on them!"

"I don't even blame Bill," James shook his head, "remember when my dad tried to tell us about that time he turned McGonagall into a Pekingese. The idea just messed with my mind so much, I didn't want the material."

Sirius nodded in agreement.

Mrs. Weasley just grinned at her eldest, admitting she'd had a few late nights with her husband.

"I can't believe she's answering," Remus already looked traumatized, he got enough stories from Sirius that started like that to predict results.

"She is talking to her kids," Lily's cheeks were starting to tinge a little pink, and Harry no more wanted to know what she was thinking than whatever Mrs. Weasley was going to supply, "I'm sure it won't be explicit."

Arthur had been caught out, and he still had the marks Pringle had given him, that was the caretaker in their day.

"The bloody hell did Pringle do?" Sirius yelped in concern, it was really something when someone made Filch look like a kindness.

"I'm guessing rules were a bit more lax then," James said with honest pity. Arthur seemed like such a nice guy, he didn't want to imagine what had been done.

Bill changed topics by asking Harry for a tour, which he readily agreed to. They passed Amos Diggory and his wife on the way out, Amos stopping Harry.

"Oh not this again," Remus groaned.

"Harry's been neck and neck with him every step of the way," James's smile wasn't at all pleasant, "so he can't even say anything to you this time."

"I'm sure he'll still try to come up with something," Sirius rolled his eyes.

Asking if Harry felt as full of himself now that Cedric and him were tied?

"When's Harry ever been full of himself?" Lily snapped of no one. "If anything, he's the opposite."

Harry chose not to answer, half proving Lily's point.

Harry asked what he meant, and Cedric told him to ignore his father.

"I've been trying," Sirius scowled, "yet somehow I've had to hear him anyways."

"It's much more effective in person when you can either plug your ears or Silencio them," James agreed.

Explaining that he'd been sore about this since that first article when Skeeter had made it seem Harry was the only Hogwarts champion.

That did admittedly put them stumped for a moment, it was a valid point on Amos' part and would have infuriated anybody, but that still wasn't any reason to take it out on Harry!

Amos was being his usual boastful self as he slapped his son on the back, praising him for being so humble he hadn't corrected the papers, and how he had no doubts Cedric would win this thing! He'd beaten Harry once before.

Mrs. Weasley snapped at him that Skeeter was known for causing trouble,

"Well that was rich," Lily sniffed.

"Yet true," Harry also defended uneasily before he stopped to consider. Harry wasn't even sure why he should feel bad about correcting his Mum regarding Mrs. Weasley, but in any case, the only reaction Lily gave was a soft hum before she kept going.

and he should know better.

Mr. Diggory looked as though he was going to say something angry,

Harry looked ready to say something nasty right back, he knew he would not take kindly to anyone saying a bad word about Mrs. Weasley after what she'd done for him today!

but his wife laid a hand on his arm, and he instead turned away.

Then Harry realized that all thought of mothers was slowly starting to be erased from his mind, and instead a thick black pain was starting to trace every inch inside him. Something so bad he didn't even want to consider what it could mean, but it involved the Diggory's...

Harry had a fun filled morning as he strolled the grounds with the Weasley's, who greatly admired the carriage and ship. Mrs. Weasley was personally fascinated by the Whomping Willow

"Should have been torn up long before now," Remus muttered to himself.

and regaled them about the old gamekeeper Ogg.

"Well that's actually fascinating," Sirius said honestly, though it was hard to picture the grounds without the Willow.

"He's most likely the one who trained Hagrid," James agreed, "so I'd kind of like to hear about him just for that."

Harry asked how Percy was doing.

"Harry!" Sirius groaned, "we said we wanted to hear about old gamekeepers, what are you doing changing the subject?"

"I can tell you a few things Mrs. Weasley told me later about Ogg," Harry chuckled at their grumbling even while Lily ignored them.

Bill's first response was to say, not well.

That did catch their attention though. They may not like Percy much, but they didn't want to hear about anything bad happening to him.

He was in trouble at work for not realizing sooner something must be up with Crouch, and should have reported the instructions he'd been receiving and was now being questioned about it all.

"Uh oh," Remus muttered.

"Actually I'm really not sure what to think of that," Sirius ran his hand through his hair in thought. "Crouch was acting like a loon, I honestly think that had to be a progression over time, but really we haven't given this much thought. He's been acting odd for months now, but Percy was insisting he was just hunky dory."

"I think we can put that down to faulty information on Percy's part," James frowned, "for all we know, Crouch really has been acting worse and worse, but Percy was pretending otherwise."

They still had a lot more questions about what was really going on with Crouch, but studying Percy would help no one.

Percy was under a lot of stress and not being allowed to continue Crouch's job, not even as judge tonight.

"So who's going to?" Remus began to ask almost exactly as Lily finished.

Fudge would be instead.

"See, this is what your questions get you," Sirius laughed at Remus' eye roll.

No one yet noticed Harry starting to lose a drop of color at every word spoken closer to the start of this task, now with Fudge there... he was really starting to look terrible.

They went back inside for lunch, where they were joined by the rest of the Weasleys and Hermione. Mrs. Weasley asked Ron how his exam had gone, and he admitted he'd made up about half of it, but all the names were something like Urg the Unclean.

"I am fairly confident that's an actual name," Lily giggled.

"Boys quite brave himself to be admitting this to his mum," Remus agreed.

Halfway through the meal Harry remembered Hermione's sudden Skeeter inspiration,

"I haven't forgotten," Lily murmured eagerly, she'd love Hermione to say this in front of Molly in particular, if just a slight payback for that Easter egg.

but before he could ask Hermione shook her head and looked pointedly at Molly.

"Why wouldn't you tell in front of her?" Sirius pouted at once, they'd waited in suspension long enough for this treat, they wanted Skeeter to fall already, and if they knew anything about Hermione by now, they were sure she was at least onto something!

Harry seemed to have drawn Mrs. Weasley's attention onto Hermione though, and Molly greeted her very stiffly.

They all gave a grumpy little huff for that, how could she stand up to Diggory one moment and then be like this the next?

Hermione gave a friendly enough smile back, which was not returned.

Harry at once told her that Skeeter's story had been ridiculous, Hermione was not and had never been his girlfriend.

Sirius actually began applauding Harry, stating, "Look who can take a hint?"

Harry smacked his hands to get him to stop, but then Remus just kept going with that same smirk in place. "Well he's right, it's really saying something of you for stepping up and saying that, I can think of others who wouldn't have picked up on it."

Harry wasn't sure if he meant his own friends or Ron, but Harry still wanted to ignore the look he was getting so was more than grateful when Lily kept going hopefully.

Mrs. Weasley at once said she'd known that, but from then on she treated Hermione perfectly normal and polite.

No one could deny they were pleased, but it was still rather grating all the same as she hadn't even apologized.

Up at the staff table, all the judges seemed to be having a good enough time, except Fudge who was sitting right next to Maxime.

"Can't pretend to be disappointed," James curled his lip, thinking Fudge deserved it, the arrogant prick.

Maxime was concentrating on her plate, and Harry thought her eyes looked red.

"Should I be worried?" Remus said, and he actually did look it.

"Nah," Sirius tried to wave him off, "I'm sure she's had another lovers spat with Hagrid, and hopefully the big guy won again and he'll be along to dinner shortly." Even he didn't sound as confident as he wanted to, no one really wanted to think about Fudge actually trying to do something against Maxime for the wrong reasons.

Hagrid kept glancing along the table at her.

Sirius would have looked far more superior about being right if he wasn't just as relieved as everyone else.

There were more courses than usual but Harry, who was starting to feel really nervous now, didn't eat much.

"You'd think they'd take a hint," James muttered, thinking back to this time before the stupid tournament had even started and their own comments about how a feast should be held when there was a winner, not stress for all involved.

When the ceiling above finally began ebbing into dusk, Dumbledore rose to his feet, and silence fell at once.

Lily had to swallow very hard around a dry throat and even took a sip of water before she could force herself to continue, her only advantage being that finally this was the last one.

Harry had gone exceptionally quiet, only marginally playing along with the boys like usual, and the longer this carried on and the more sickly he kept looking, the harder it was to convince themselves that this should be an easy task.

He announced the third task would be starting in five minutes, and asked the contestants to go down now with Bagman.

Harry was wished luck on all sides as he joined the others, Bagman catching up to him at once and asking how he was feeling?

"Least this'll be the last time he asks you that," James muttered to himself.

Harry told he was alright, and for once it was the truth. He kept running down the list in his mind of all the spells he'd learned for this, and pleased he remembered every one.

"This has got to be worse than any pre-exam jitters," Remus agreed, though just as impressed that Harry had learned a lot in a short amount of time, all the more proof of what Harry's specialty in magic was in these spells.

Their Quidditch field was now completely unrecognizable, the twenty-foot-high hedge ran all the way around the edge of it.

James and Sirius gave an involuntary flinch at just the idea, wanting to sit and berate this stupid school for hours for using this stupid tournament anywhere near their field! They'd already been denied Quidditch this year, this felt like adding insult to injury! They both kept themselves at bay though because they kept hopping Harry would instead, no matter how obvious it was he was only half paying attention at best.

The stands began filling almost the moment the five were huddled around the entrance, and were also joined by Hagrid, Moody,

Harry felt himself shiver straight down to his bones as too many things tried to align themselves at once. Moody, Diggory's, Fudge, and that maze...

McGonagall, and Flitwick who were all wearing vests with bright red stars on them. McGonagall explained they would be patrolling the outskirts of the maze, and if at any time they wished to leave it they were to send up red sparks.

"That probably falls under automatic disqualification from the Cup though," Remus was clearly saying to himself, "so I cannot imagine anyone doing it."

Harry was wiping some sweat that was starting to appear, trying to get his mind to flip to any good thought, but all he could land on was when Hagrid had first taught him to do this his first time in the Forbidden Forest, and that was only making his feelings worse.

Bagman announced it was time to go, and added the Sonorous charm to his throat so that all could hear.

James muttered something inarticulate about better times at the World Cup, he'd much rather hear that all over again than this crappy version of a Cup.

He spoke grandly to the stands about how the final event of this Triwizard Tournament was coming to a close! Then he listed off the order the champions stood in.

Sirius really wanted to make a pompous remark about his proud school double beating out the others, but it would never erase the annoyance of Harry having to be in this at all.

The cheers and applause sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky.

"Congratulations," Remus snorted in surprise.

"Why are they holding this at dusk anyways?" James rolled his eyes at the idea, "there's a reason the other events were all held in the middle of the day."

"I suppose they would have put the same charm on the stands as they did during the lake event," Sirius shrugged, "but my best guess is that some of the things they did to the maze may have been time activated, or maybe some of the beasts Hagrid offered are nocturnal."

"Sirius I will make you read this if you don't stop putting ideas in my head," Lily threatened, causing Sirius to zip his mouth shut at once.

Bagman finally announced that on his whistle, Harry and Cedric would be allowed to enter. After a short countdown, the shrill noise rang, and the two were inside the maze.

Lily took another deep breath just as Harry exhaled his own, though both were at complete opposite mindsets by this point. Lily was almost happy to finally be doing this, the problem was nearly over, where Harry was fighting back the urge to scream the worst hadn't even begun.

The hedges were so high they seemed to block the rest of the world out, and either because of thickness or magic, no sound from the crowds came through.

"The second," they all muttered, still eyeing Harry with growing concern, but Remus still tried to keep a casual conversation as he said, "wouldn't want someone shouting and giving directions after all."

Harry vaguely acknowledged him with a hum.

Harry and Cedric were on even until they reached a split, where Harry went left, and Cedric right. Not long after, a second and then third whistle was heard, and all champions were in the maze.

The boys were really starting to get twitchy with nerves, all of them shifting around or fidgeting with whatnot. Harry had this air about him like they should be expecting an attack any second, and wasn't even trying to downplay it for once.

Harry kept looking behind him. The old feeling that he was being watched was upon him.

"I'm sure everyone in the maze feels like that," Sirius muttered.

Harry knew what he meant, but still the idea lingered, thinking he was being watched, but just by one, or maybe just one eye...

When Harry hit his next crossroads, he used his Point Me spell. As his goal was northwest, the wand turned compass pointing him north was the best way to find himself.

"That's brilliant," James's eyes lit, "you remember the direction you headed for when you first met Bagman on the field."

"It was the same time of day too, so that really was an advantage they gave you all," Sirius agreed.

Harry was having a hard time concentrating on a single word they were saying, his hand wrapped securely around his wand and very sure he never wanted to reach the center of this maze.

He took the turn that would lead him in that direction, and made several more without running into anything. He was starting to feel uneasy, thinking he should have hit an obstacle by now.

"I agree," Lily nodded, her fingers turning white she was clutching the book so hard for anything to jump out any second.

"I think it's another tactic," Remus muttered, "lull him into a false sense of security for the first half."

Harry had no idea why he wanted to correct Remus about that, instead something in him was convinced his own path was being altered and helped along, but of course no one would be doing that...

He should have found something by now, but perhaps this was a trap for a false sense of security.

"Hey look, Harry agrees with you," Sirius smirked.

Then he heard movement right behind him.

They all tensed at once with that, a crup appearing right now would have had them all freaking out.

He held out his wand, ready to attack, but its beam fell only upon Cedric,

"Gah," Sirius gasped, massaging roughly at his chest to keep his heart beat in rhythm. "I swear I'm going to kill that kid, he's been driving me cr-"

Harry cried out so loud that Sirius leapt away in shock while James accidentally shot a curse into the wall that caused it to sprout a white fur pelt. Harry noticed nothing as his hands curled into fists pressed against his pounding forehead.

"Merlin pup, I was kidding," Sirius tried to pacify while everyone was left a shaking mess, Harry still not registering a thing as he sat there staring at nothing and panting with exertion.

"Deep breath Harry," James soothed, ruffling up his hair and casting his mind around for any form of distraction. "If I knew Sirius' stupid humor was going to do this to you, I'd have turned him into a terrier already."

"That's insulting," Sirius pouted at him, "I'm a deerhound and proud of it."

"Is that what you tried to transfigure the wall into?" Remus asked curiously as he waved his own to put the pattern back.

"I still have small dogs on the brain," James admitted.

Harry actually managed a laugh for them, something about the thought of a terrier really did put him back in a good mood, but it didn't erase the haunted look behind his eyes.

Lily tried a different tactic, "I'm sure you're just worried about Cedric, perhaps something from your own time like you were with Ginny. Nothing's going to happen to Cedric now." Even to her own ears the words came out flat, it was so incredibly hard to downplay how much pain her baby was clearly in, how odd he'd been acting since he'd even first heard Cedric's name, but the thought of her fourteen year old actually knowing someone who had died during this tournament was nearly unbearable. He was just too young for that to be happening to him on top of everything else he'd been through. Still, he seemed to have marshaled himself, so whatever was fixing to happen she still kept the knowledge alive her baby was fine while she forced herself to keep going.

He came tumbling out of an adjacent path, and his sleeve was smoking.

"Sounds like he's having a blast," Sirius muttered to himself as he sunk back into his seat, trying to keep that one from Harry's ears so he didn't cause any more problems with the mention of this one.

He caught sight of Harry and quickly explained it had been a Skrewt and how enormous it was,

James opened then closed his mouth, a snappy little joke about how he wanted to kill Hagrid for putting those bleeding things into this on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't want to imagine what Harry's reaction could be next.

and just as quickly ran off.

Harry stepped up his pace a bit, he had no desire to run into that. Instead he turned down the opposite way Cedric had gone, and ran into a dementor.

Lily moaned under her breath, her hands beginning to shake as the fear of Harry having to relive that memory returned even if he could summon a patronus to get rid of them, the screaming that would start in his ears would always be an echo of the worst.

Reacting on instinct, Harry quickly summoned up the idea of himself celebrating with Ron and Hermione once this was all over to summon the spell Expecto Patronum.

Remus hummed softly to himself, he always enjoyed knowing what other people's memories were when they conjured that spell, and Remus was more than happy if this became a recurring one for Harry. They were familiar and a common presence in his life, while also always managing to create new and happy memories for Harry, a great bonus as using the same memory over and over had been known to start lacking in use after a time, as if repetitive dementors feeding on the one memory could actually deteriorate an older idea. He was so lost in his own thought he hardly paid attention as Lily went on, absolutely confident in Harry's ability to conquer this.

The silver stag appeared, stampeding down the hooded figure, which began to stumble back.

"Do what?" Sirius yelped in surprise.

"Um," Remus had to blink a moment in surprise to spin his brain back and catch up with what he'd only half herd. "Oh, yes, it must be a boggart then, that's the reaction it would have with a proper patronus on it, simply hovering and considering another attack."

Harry recognized that dementors never did such a thing, and realized this must be a boggart, so instead switched spells to Riddikulus.

It vanished with a loud crack and only a vapor of smoke left.

"Must have been a really weak boggart," James raised a brow at this. "You didn't even have to smirk at it, it simply vanished with the spell."

Harry nodded without answer, that feeling still lingering heavily in his chest about how this was too easy, how he was getting help, and still that extra layer that wouldn't leave him of something concerning Cedric.

The silver stag was already fading, but Harry wished it would stay, he'd have liked the company.

"Why didn't you just cast the spell again then?" Lily offered, "It will linger as long as you keep your happy thought in mind with purpose."

"Never practiced that," Harry said distantly, taking a deep rattling breath as that too seemed to hold some meaning to him, and he was truly going to be sick soon if the feeling didn't fade.

He kept pressing on, often running into dead ends and still going many directions without running into anything but always trying to go as north as possible, until finally he came across some golden mist.

Lily could practically feel her mind flipping through an old fifth year text as she blurted, "It's a good thing you don't have anything in your pockets, that sounds like Limbo Caligo, or Limbo Mist. Easy enough to get through even if you don't know the counter charm, Gravi."

"And how do you do that?" Sirius asked for Harry since he clearly wasn't going to do so himself, he was still too distracted, but even hearing them talk seemed to be keeping his eyes at least darting to each person as they spoke. Plus, not that he'd admit it, but Sirius honestly forgot.

"Determination," Lily smiled sweetly at her son, "you just have to be brave enough to realize this isn't magic that actually turns off gravity." She didn't need to even think if Harry would figure out this second option, any boy who jumped on the back of a mountain troll would certainly gamble the odds that was how this spell could be defeated.

"What about his glasses?" James asked in concern, pushing his own slightly up the bridge of his nose only for them to fall right back down.

Lily did acknowledge that could be a problem if he didn't react quick enough, but thankfully once the spell wore off they'd just fall right back beside him, hopefully undamaged, or at least he knew how to repair them now.

Harry went towards it cautiously, his first thought to put a spell through it to blast it away.

"Honestly, I'd try that first too," James chuckled.

He chose Reducto, but it merely glided through the twinkling haze without disruption.

"Still never hurts to try," Remus shrugged.

Harry tried to consider what would happen if he went through, or if he should double back.

Then he heard the scream.

Harry gave yet another horrible shiver for what that could mean, it was happening so often they were all starting to wonder if Harry was going to fall into an involuntary fit even if he was clearly trying his hardest not to touch his memories. This scream though wasn't the one Harry was fearing this night, and though he twisted in concern for Fleur, she wasn't the one in danger...

Harry called for Fleur, but received no answer. Taking a deep breath, he knew which direction he had to go through, and so began charging the enchantment.

Lily smiled and wanted to smack her son all at the same time. Even if she did know what this Charm was, she hated the idea of him just charging into anything, but also couldn't be more proud her's was a boy that never hesitated to help a person in need.

He hadn't made it halfway across when the world seemed to flip upside down, his shoes now rooted to the grass as he seemed to dangle out into oblivion, his reflexes the only thing saving his glasses from toppling into the stars.

"There's those Quidditch reflexes," James smiled, which vanished at once as Harry still wasn't focusing on anything in this room.

He could feel the blood pumping into his head, thinking that if he tried to move he'd fall off the earth forever.

Remus shivered in disgust, now vaguely remembering learning about this spell himself, but he'd thought about it in the classroom, where it sounded sort of funny to be dangling from the ceiling like this. Harry made it sound terrifying.

He tried to think of some way out of this, but the blood rush was hard to work through, did he dare move his foot?

"I'd really like to think Harry would realize they wouldn't actually put a spell in there that would kill you like that," Sirius sighed, "but now that I know those Skrewts are in there, I don't blame Harry."

He could still send up the sparks, surely someone would see them right side up and get him off this flipside earth.

Harry muttered something under his breath how he was wishing he'd picked that option, but it was at least some form of his communicating again.

He still felt that scream echoing in his head, and so taking one long deep breath, he wrenched his foot free.

Lily's smile widened, she really was just so impressed at her Hare Bare committing to something like that when less brave people would have coped out already. It helped she knew the end results and he'd be fine.

The world flipped right side up again, the moon and stars above having their ever friendly glow while the golden mist twinkled innocently behind him as he ran off.

"The most dangerous things are often the cute looking ones," Sirius grumbled in agreement, thankful Harry hadn't run across any sweet smelling plants from those greenhouses yet.

It was at the next junction he hesitated again, wondering why he'd never seen any sparks after Fleur's scream. Had she fought off whatever had caused it, or was so injured she couldn't reach her wand?

"Oh I'm sure it's not that bad," James twitched in unease.

Even as he kept through the shrubbery, in the very small back of his mind, he heard himself think 'one down.'

That caught Harry's attention full force, as he looked shameful and tried to utter an apology.

"Nah," Sirius waved him off, "I'm confident she's just fine, I'd be celebrating too."

Harry felt warmed and slightly more in control that his first instinct was finally to agree with that good news.

The cup had to be close by now, and for the first time since he'd heard about all of this, that image again appeared before his eyes. Rising from here in victory in front of the rest of the school...

Then Harry choked and instantly lost whatever small bit of color he'd gained, and no one could deny any more how confused and terrified they were at all of this. What the bloody hell happened in this maze that was affecting him so bad? Lily didn't want to keep going, it was clearly going to be traumatic for him to relearn, but then she comforted herself at least she was here now to help him through it, he was going to be fine, she had the proof in front of her.

Another long stretch of time passed again before he found his next run in, a Blast-Ended Skrewt.

"Oh joy." Remus meant to say that with sarcasm, anything that sent Cedric running like that couldn't be anything actually good, but he'd never deny his thirst for more knowledge about beasts, especially a new one like this. It was clearly bigger than the last time Harry had seen it, which meant more to hear about.

Cedric had not been exaggerating, it was enormous. Ten feet long, it now resembled a headless scorpion with a curled tail over its back.

"That is the scariest pink thing I have ever imagined," Sirius nodded to himself.

He at once shouted Stupefy!

"Stunners starting too nice," James frowned at the idea of anything that size approaching Harry.

It rebounded off the carapace and Harry only just ducked in time, but could still smell burning hair.

"Bloody hell, Hagrid really knows how to create some monsters," Remus' eyes widened even further.

"Maybe it has the same kind of weaknesses as acromantulas, and it's best to hit them on their underbellies," Sirius offered.

"Let's see if Harry thinks of that," Lily said with hope.

It had singed the top of his head.

"So fire can come out of both ends?" Remus sighed.

"Unless it tried farting in Harry's face," Sirius agreed.

"Nope, it fireballed me," Harry told, making all of them actually smile. It wasn't a happy image, but any normal response from him would be appreciated.

A jet of fire came out of the other end, surging it even faster towards him, and Harry kept trying to shoot off the Impedimenta.

"Well now you're panicking," James groaned, "using the same spell twice."

"Saying it louder hasn't ever made it better," Lily agreed, bite marks starting to appear on her lip from how often she was going at it.

The skrewt was practically on top of him when the spell finally landed a hit on its underbelly. Harry began edging backwards, then turned tail and ran as fast as he could, knowing that wouldn't last long.

"That is true," Sirius agreed, "but major credit to you, you've learned a very important lesson about a lot of creatures. Their weakness is usually their belly."

"I'll keep that in mind," Harry promised, wiping more sweat from his temple at another sharp stab telling him this would come back to him sooner than he'd think.

Harry lost track of his way a bit and had to carefully back track to be heading north again, when he heard another scream, this time much closer by as Cedric demanded what was going on.

Krum's voice rent the air as he yelled Crucio!

"K-Krum!" James yipped, entirely sure he'd heard wrong.

"I, wow he-" even Sirius looked stunned at this turn of events, his suspicions of Krum's headmaster really hadn't even lead him to believe the guy would use an Unforgivable Curse!

Harry was frowning so much deep lines were starting to appear in his face. Now he knew there was something off going on, something just plain wrong with this scene, and it wasn't the curse being used, but something to do with the real person giving it.

A horrible yell tore at the night from just one hedge over, but Harry kept sprinting up and down and couldn't find a way through! Finally he used the Reductor Curse, which only caused a very small hole to appear, but after much forcing his way through, he broke into the new path.

James was temporarily surprised to realize Harry hadn't just been doing this all along, he could have been blasting his way right to the center of the maze like that. Now wasn't really the time to be thinking about that though.

What he saw was Cedric, twitching on the ground, with Krum standing over him.

Lily's voice was quivering over every word now, after recently learning what would happen to Frank and Alice, that spell took on a whole new level of horrifying to her, something she hadn't previously thought possible.

Harry at once tried to put a spell on Krum, but the moment he caught sight of Harry, he tried to run.

"Run?" Sirius demanded brutally. "How do you curse someone like that one second and run the next, you'd think he'd just turn on Harry."

"Isn't everyone in the crowd watching this?" Remus reminded, "He should be disqualified immediately already. Merlin, someone could set a case for him being sent to Azkaban for using this, all for a bleeding Cup."

James was as blasted as the others at this turn of events, they'd really had nothing to see this coming, but even still he pointed out, "well it's good to know Krum really is a scumbag in on whatever plans been going around Harry this year, but I don't buy it Krum's behind everything, so let's let Lily stay on track."

Harry was saved yet another wave of pain from what he was sure was an inaccurate statement from his dad by at least being comforted by the end and agreeing.

Harry shot Stupefy

"That was a kindness," Sirius said darkly, but he supposed he'd be even more shocked if Harry had used anything else. He'd proved time and again he was too good a person to be throwing curses around, even to someone's back after they'd just used the worst kind.

which hit Krum in the small of his back. He face planted the grass while Harry ran to Cedric and asked how he was.

Harry made a soft whimpering noise he didn't even seem aware of, his body's way of trying to warn him he wouldn't have long to wonder just how bad that spell could hurt.

Cedric agreed he was fine while he uneasily got to his feet. Harry asked if he'd heard Fleur scream earlier as well, and Cedric thought Krum was responsible for her as well.

"I'm sure it was something else," Remus said instantly, "and she's still in the game." None of them wanted to consider otherwise, even Krum wouldn't Crucio someone into submission and leave them to die...right? Had they, and Hermione, and everyone been fooled so well?

Then Cedric suggested they should just leave him here and press on, but Harry corrected he was going to put red sparks above Krum, lest a skrewt eat him.

"There are worse fates," Sirius sneered even if he knew he wouldn't have disagreed with Harry.

Cedric muttered how he'd deserve it,

Sirius gave a soft laugh, he hadn't expected to be mimicking someone he'd been threatening so much lately, but still a bit pompous his point had been repeated.

but did indeed raise his own wand and put the sparks up. Then he turned to Harry and suggested they keep moving.

Harry was surprised for a moment, their having come together against Krum had temporarily distracted him they were opponents.

"Um, wow, yeah." James had to blink a few times to realize he needed to move past this moment no matter how badly it left a taste in his mouth. "Congratulations, Hogwarts won."

"That's all we wanted in the beginning," Lily sighed, wondering where all that good mood had gone, and how long it would take to come back.

The two went off together again, but split at the next fork. Harry traced his way through now very distracted, trying to understand why Krum would risk a sentence in Azkaban just for this tournament.

"I wouldn't have believed so," Remus agreed, wondering if Harry just wasn't putting together what they were thinking, Krum had been a part of the idea from the beginning of putting Harry into this task to hurt him...but then why hadn't he turned on Harry in that moment? Why had he in fact done the opposite?

He almost ran smack into a sphinx.

"Oh boy," James sighed.

"I never had the patience for these things and their riddles," Sirius agreed.

Remus hushed the other two, undeniable excitement lighting him as he got to hear about one of these in a new way, hear one of their riddles in as close to in person as he'd ever get.

It mostly resembled a lion in body, but with the head of a woman. The whole thing combined was eerily pretty.

Harry hesitated to raise his wand, as she was not crouching to spring,

"She won't do that until you get it wrong," Sirius muttered for Harry, who had gone back to only half listening again, Krum weighing back on his mind just like Cedric, and whatever was coming at the end of this.

but instead blocking his path.

She spoke to him in a throaty voice of how close to his goal he was, and Harry politely asked her to move.

Lily couldn't stop a surprised giggle busting out, quickly followed by all but Harry, who snapped back to here with a roll of his eyes. It had been worth a shot.

She instead explained how this would go. He could hear her riddle, and if guessed right, he could pass. If wrong, she would attack. If he gave no answer, she would let him leave without question.

"I wonder if someone like Dumbledore made a deal with this sphinx like he had the mermen," Remus mused. "In the wild, they're much less known for forewarning you like this, they simply see you, spring the riddle, and if you don't guess right they pounce."

"I can imagine that," Lily agreed happily, "so when she says she's going to attack you, she's most likely just going to chase until you send up the sparks."

Aside from that dragon, this Tournament really hadn't been as bad as they'd all been fearing. In fact it was the stuff outside of it which had really been the worst, could that be what was bothering Harry? Not the maze itself, but whatever happened after he got out? It wasn't exactly encouraging, but Harry was watching his mother with some delight again as she finished, "well never the less, I am hoping Harry at least hears the riddle, I love figuring those out."

Harry felt his stomach twist in concern, it was Hermione who was good at this type of thing.

"Sadly this isn't a buddy challenge," James gave a small smile, his mind going back to Harry's first year, and Hermione solving Snape's riddle. He hoped Harry had at least picked up some tips from her in the meantime.

Harry decided he wanted to hear the riddle, with the option in mind he could leave if he wanted to.

The sphinx took a seat and recited:

Insert sphinx riddle

Lily was actually smiling by the end, much to everyone's annoyance.

"I will never understand how you enjoy riddles and poems," Remus shook his head at her. "Sometimes the answers are so contrived."

Lily ignored him as she reread the riddle again to herself, then out loud, shushing whoever tried to speak up as she turned it all out, before speaking aloud, "well the first part's a bit hard to find an exact match, it seems broad but doable if you find at least one other part. The second is one I've seen hidden in other riddles, the letter d. The last bit is facing the same problem as the first, you need some kind of information to string them all together for the final answer. I'm wondering if it might rhyme with kiss, but no, the riddle feels complete by rhyming with this. Hum, so perhaps building from there, err something you wouldn't want to kiss with a d in it regarding a liar as well as a noise, no wait, err, person could be an actual-"

"Lily," James finally begged. "You know I love you, and honestly I'd love nothing more than to sit here and watch you puzzle this out, but don't you want to see how Harry does?" James had honestly meant it, he'd been sitting there with an old fond expression his friends had seen more times than they could count in school as he'd watched the love of his life go through all this in her own way. He had no doubts she would get there in the end, but Harry was starting to look sickly again at watching her even as he was smiling along.

Lily sighed, but gave in with minimal dispute.

Harry asked for it again more slowly, and his first response to something he didn't want to kiss was a Blast-Ended Skrewt.

Remus snorted with laughter even as Sirius got over his cackling and agreed, "Hey, it even fits the answer, the middle of middle and end of end, both could link into the name of that thing."

"I don't think so," Lily said critically, not at all laughing as she was still hovering over what this could be even as she read. "I don't see that being the answer."

James kept laughing all the harder for her taking this so seriously, but quietly enough she was ignoring him.

Still, he didn't feel that was actually the answer, so he began working out the clues, first thinking aloud how a person in disguise could be a liar, like an imposter, then quickly shouted at the sphinx that wasn't his guess!

"Yeah, it's probably safe to keep that clarified," Remus agreed.

Offering a few more options as well as a spy.

Lily hummed at the idea with approval, though wasn't entirely sure herself, and was glad Harry was tackling another one instead.

He had not a guess for what the second part could mean, and erred to himself aloud what the last thing of mend was.

Lily's mind finally gave a click as she uttered that noise aloud, putting all three pieces together, and suddenly beaming as she kept going, sounding happier right now than she had during any combined Tournament moments.

Then he asked for the last line.

"That second one really is easier to figure out if you're looking at the actual words instead of just saying them," Remus agreed over Lily's actually happy reading. They were all watching her with amusement now, as they realized she'd gotten it, but didn't bother asking her to share, if she was going to she would have.

Harry kept saying err aloud as he tried to figure out a sound he'd make for a hard to find word, then realized the exact noise he was making, err was a sound!

"You certainly say it enough," Sirius quipped.

Harry stuck his tongue out at him.

He tried tying his first and last clue together, muttering about a spy-er, spy-er, then yelping the answer spider!

"Don't you ever again try to say you're not smart," Lily praised, "that was brilliant love."

Harry was flushed at the praise, meeting her eyes and still never growing tired of watching the color match back. There was some small part of him, even underneath all the dread anger and fear he was holding for this night, that left him in no doubt that this one moment where he was sitting beside his father being praised by his mother would mean something incredibly special on this June night as well.

The sphinx smiled at him, and then stepped aside.

Harry thanked her as he dashed past, baffled at his own brilliance.

James threw his head back and laughed hard at that one, he'd had his own moments of that in his school when he'd come up with some brilliant on the spot moves, but nothing as clever as this.

Harry turned one last corner, and there it was at last, the Triwizard Cup gleaming on a plinth yards away.

Harry watched those around him light up, and for just that one moment he let himself feel that too. The feeling that this was all over, Harry had won, he was about to walk out victorious against all odds.

Suddenly a dark figure hurtled out onto the path in front of him.

Sirius snarled in frustration, there just always had to be that one more thing.

Cedric had arrived as well,

"Oh bloody hell," James yelped in outrage, he knew he'd be beyond furious if Cedric took this win now! Harry had come so close, he shouldn't have even been in here, yet despite everything he honestly deserved it more for all the crap he'd been through. Where were the brooms when you needed them? Harry'd have him beat in moments.

his legs were longer, he had the further advantage, and Harry realized that cup was lost.

"Then stun him!" Remus blurted as he bounced in place.

Harry just shook his head, realizing the thought wouldn't cross his mind, for that one moment he'd been going to let Cedric win...which flooded him with so much worry in that moment Harry knew he should have done just that, done everything in his power to stop Cedric getting to that Cup. Harry wasn't that petty though, he shouldn't care that much about winning...

Cedric only had eyes for the cup, and as Harry watched his precision, he saw what Cedric had not, a dark figure scuttling along about to collide right with him.

Harry called out a warning, and Cedric only had just enough time to dart to the side as a gigantic spider was on the path.

"Gah!" Lily screeched. "That blasted riddle was as much a warning! Curse Hagrid and those bleeding spiders." She kept reading too fast for anyone to say otherwise even if they'd wanted to.

Harry shot Stupefy at once, but all this achieved was drawing the arachnid's attention.

"Oh but there's the bright side, you got it coming towards you now!" Sirius mock cheered.

"Harry has an awful knack of doing that," James groaned.

Harry kept shooting curse after curse, but it was doing no good, and without a moment to run the pincers caught him up by the waist and began lowering him towards its mouth, and Harry screamed in pain.

Lily's voice was starting to hurt it was pitching so high in fear. It was such a contrast to how happy she'd been moments ago and seeing Harry's win in the light the differnce left them all lagging in shock of a proper emotion.

Harry could hear Cedric trying the same spells he had, to the same effect, so Harry desperately tried Expelliarmus.

"Credit for originality," Remus muttered, "I don't think anyone's ever tried disarming a spider."

The Disarming Spell finally did something, Harry was released, only to sail to the ground and crash on his bleeding leg. Being half under the creature's mandibles, he aimed for the belly and shouted Stupefy just as Cedric did the same.

Spells combined, the spider finally keeled over and crashed through a hedge.

Lily felt herself shaking back into the cushions in relief. This had to be over now, she couldn't imagine anything worse protecting the Cup.

Cedric called for Harry in concern, asking if the spider had landed on him?

"Cedric really is such a good guy," Sirius shook his head in fondness, "I can think of a dozen other people who would have gone on for the Cup. The moment he touched it the Tournament would have been over, it would have done Harry just as much good as sticking around helping him while also giving him the win."

Harry felt a sudden stinging in his eyes, unable to understand why he was happy for that one moment where Sirius had finally admitted he'd liked Cedric.

Harry called back at least that hadn't happened, while he inspected his leg. It was bleeding freely, and a black thick substance surrounded it were the pincers had torn the flesh.

"That would be the beginnings of a paralyzing secretion," Remus shivered, "so tell Cedric to hop along already and get you out of there before it sets in."

He tried heaving himself to his feet, but his ankle wouldn't support him, he'd certainly at least sprained it in his fall.

Cedric was weaving his way through the legs to Harry's side, while Harry demanded what he was doing, telling him to get on with it and go grab it.

Cedric took a deep breath,

"Oh he's not," James' started to smile.

and told Harry in thanks for saving Cedric twice in here, he'd let Harry have it.

"Oh but he is!" Sirius barked in triumph. "Finally, some proper payback for that dragon tip!"

Harry was rubbing at his leg as he remembered that pain, ignoring the both of them as he was now running an internal monologue of regret that he didn't leap at this opportunity on the spot and do just that, instead he just knew he'd argue the point with Cedric, and Cedric would pay for it.

Harry snapped back that wasn't how this worked. His leg was hurting him more every second, he pulled himself up and only stayed that way by support of a wall, full of regret Cedric had beaten him in this as much as he had with asking Cho to the ball.

Lily gave a soft sigh, wanting to give her son a hug for feeling so seconded by Cedric all year, and now was certainly the worst time.

Cedric tried to say otherwise, but Harry insisted he couldn't even try a race on this leg, it was Cedric's. Still he said no.

Remus couldn't help it, he was starting to laugh a bit at this exchange. When, in the Cup's history, had two champions ever reached it and then argued over who deserved it more? He thought both boys should take it now, it honestly seemed a way to make everyone happy.

Cedric pointed out how he wouldn't have even made it this far if Harry hadn't helped him out with the dragons.

"I'm positive no one would have," Sirius grumbled.

Harry snapped back he'd had help with that too, and that favor had been returned with the egg.

Cedric confessed he'd had help with that as well.

Harry felt like he was standing inside a church bell as it was being rung his head hurt so bad, he closed his eyes tight to try and convince his brain not to be the death of him for how badly he was aching because of all of this, but that helped nothing. It was much more soothing to keep his eyes open on his mother, a small smile lingering on her face as she kept going. No one seemed that surprised Cedric had gotten help in the first place, clearly everyone in the Tournament had been getting help from someone, it seemed perfectly natural to them.

Harry still pointed out that made them square.

Cedric wasn't having it, insisting he should have acted like Harry back in the second task and stayed behind for the other hostages, Harry should have flat out won that. Harry insisted he had just been the only one thick enough to take that song seriously.

"Now what did you go calling me thick for?" Sirius demanded, and was instantly concerned when for the first time Harry didn't smile at that. His eyes were glassy, his lips trembling as he was clearly using all his willpower to repress saying something. They were all starting to feel the beginnings of panic set in, what could be so bad about this? Lily was starting to rush a bit in getting this finished, hoping the problem once they got out of there really was something they could help Harry cope through.

Cedric still refused, walking farther and farther away from the prize, and Harry realized he was serious.

"No, I am!" Sirius tried again a little desperately, anything to snap Harry out of it, and it seemed to work for just a second as Harry glanced at his godfather, but it helped nothing with whatever was eating the poor boy alive. Was that guilt?

He was actively walking away from Hufflepuff glory the house had never seen, all while insisting it should be Harry's for the taking. He crossed his arms and met his eyes, absolutely decided.

"Well now we're all doomed," James tried to pop some humor as well which fell dead flat around him.

Harry looked past him to the cup, for one second the image again in his eyes of being lifted into a cheering crowd, Cho's shining eyes only on him and that gleaming cup.

"If Cho dumps Cedric for you, just because you won, I honestly won't approve," Lily grumbled to herself.

Just as quickly though, Harry blinked it all away, telling that they both would take it.

Harry moaned, tears trickling out of the corner of his eyes as he shook his head desperately, knowing he'd give anything to take that back.

Lily made to put the book down and go to her son, but Remus caught her and reminded her what always seemed to help him best when this was eating away at him. Get the memory over with. She didn't agree, nothing they could be getting to would make any of this feel better, but she saw just how little she had left, and she honestly wanted her completion to be done just to have the thing out of her hands.

Cedric at first could only splutter in surprise, but Harry insisted on the idea. It would still be a Hogwarts victory, they'd helped each other every step of the way, they both deserved it.

Cedric's eyes lit with delight, and he agreed to the idea, offering Harry a shoulder over to their prize. Harry took it, and the two awkwardly made their way into the slight glow, each grasping a handle.

Harry felt as if his world was crumbling down around him, that one last moment he had left of seeing that smile on Cedric's face, the triumph gleaming in his eyes as his fingers grasped that at the same moment as Harry's. A million regrets tumbled through him of why Harry hadn't just touched it one moment sooner, why he'd let this happen-

Instantly there was a jerk in his navel. His feet had left the ground. He could not release the Triwizard Cup; it was pulling him onward with Cedric at his side.

Harry lost his thin tether he'd been holding, and vomited.

HPHPHPHPHP

Just before anyone asks, I'm not going to bring up the 'why didn't they just put the portkey spell on any object' plot hole up until the end of the book, where there's just going to be a whole chapter curled around the many aspects of this particular book. If you send me a suggestion of what you want to see in said discussion, there's a chance I'll slip it in if I don't already have a better spot for it.

I recognize the next three chapters all kind of go together, and since they're relatively short compared to what I've been working with lately, I promise I'm not completely a monster. I will do my very best to get them up even quicker than my normal updating, so with any luck the next one will be up Tuesday.

Completely unrelated side note, has anyone else taken the WOMBAT test? If not, see

www. hp-lexicon source /other -canon/ jkr /jkr -w2/

The commentary on these questions is hilarious, and I usually chose John/Steve's answers because they're sarcastic little shits like me, but Belinda embodies me a lot too.

[saucysamu]

Hi, I guess this is an emergency request. It’s totally fine if you can’t do it, I know these things can be a bit dark. So I relapsed into self harm again. After quite a long time actually. And it’s just very demoralizing, knowing that I’m back at the start and that just makes it that much harder to stay clean. Because I feel like a failure. I had an ex that was a jerk about it, so that just terrifies me to open up about it. So I can get really defensive, but I try not to be. It’s just a difficult thing for me to process, and I try my best to be mentally healthy, but sometimes that’s not exactly possible. Right now I’m just kind of emotionally done. So I guess maybe how Suna, Kita, Atsumu and maybe Bokuto would react with that. Idk what’s the limit of characters. If there’s a limit, just take out characters. I know it’s possible for me to be happy, it’s just getting there lol. I love flowers and watching bumble bees buzzing around. Wasps can F off tho 💀. Just gotta find things like that you know. Anyways, I hope you are doing well! And remember to prioritize your mental health always 💖✨. It’s really kind what you’re doing, but make sure not to get overwhelmed!!

Suna and Kita reacting to their s/o relapsing to sh

Warning: s*lfharm

part 2: Bokuto and Atsumu reacting to their s/o relapsing to sh : coming soon

Suna

Ngl it took him off guard but at the same time it didn’t ?

you never told him out of embarrassment, fearing rejection if you did tell him

after dating for a while you were doing alright so you didn’t feel the need to tell him I mean, that was in the past…right?

don’t think he never noticed your scars, even if they faded in color, he isn’t dumb 

he never brought it up in a conversation though — for one because he didn’t know how,  and secondly he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. If you wanted to talk about it you just would have done so, at least he thinks that.

so when he discovers fresh scars he just freezes

he feels kinda nauseous not knowing what to do tbh

you’re his only breaking point - his sarcastic, cold demeanor only lasting until something happens to you. 

you can’t think of a single time you ever saw him so vulnerable - just like he never saw you like that

it was probably in a casual moment when he noticed - like you grabbing something from the top shelf and your sleeve rolling down

both of your hearts drop, making you put your sleeve into position again, avoiding his gaze. After it took him some seconds to find his composure again he slowly makes his way to you and gently grabs one side of your cheek to press the side of your face against his chest. He repeatedly kisses the top of your head gently while his beating heart eases the lump in your throat. With his other hand he reaches out for your fingers to intertwine them lazily, rubbing the palm with his thumb.

he keeps quiet, being scared of saying anything to upset you. He doesn’t need to though, you just feel that you’re safe with him.

you both are each others home, you know that and he knows too. No matter how stone cold he seems to others, you know he’s in fact the opposite

you sigh shakingly, muttering an apology since guilt overpowers you now

he clicks his tongue and shakes his head while pulling you closer 

  I’m sorry I didn’t notice.. I should have paid more attention.

Suna was never the type to understand why someone would hurt themselves. It didn’t solve the problem, it made him frown. He never left disgusting remarks though - he just didn’t get it, or he didn’t care enough. And no one around him has ever done that so why should he care? But people have their reasons right? Well if it wasn’t for you he still wouldn’t know what it meant to doubt yourself but having no strength to do anything about it. What it meant to never feel good enough. What it meant to lose desire and joy in everything. Thanks to you he developed some kind of empathy, flipping a switch in his mind. He’s become more patient and understanding, making you unable to comprehend how his piercing eyes can look so gentle when you meet his gaze. Before him, all you’ve known was people blaming you for how you felt — and how you coped. But he’s never blamed you once. And why would he? He’d gain nothing from making you feel worse, he’s aware of this much. He isn’t obvious about it, never even talked to his friends about it to protect you, but also to protect himself. He’d honestly rather avoid things that make him seem weak and vulnerable. Suna’s just not someone who likes to admit weakness. If the others knew how soft he could be for his significant other, they would never, and I mean NEVER, let him live down on that. Too bad you got him wrapped around your finger - in every way possible. Cause despite not knowing how to deal with..specific situations, he just pulls you into a hug. For as long as it needs to last, neither of you care how long you keep hugging in the middle of a room. Or a hallway. Or a mall. He couldn’t care less the only thing that matters is to make you feel loved, valid. That’s his way of being there for you. Cradling in his scent and warmth, with lidded eyes you feel at home.

Kita 

he knows about your past, like who are we kidding he knows everything lmao

of course he knows, he’d want to know every little thing about you only if you’re comfortable tho like he wouldn’t force you to do anything you didn’t want to

idk I just think his trust would crack if you lied to him or hid something from him.

He’d rather have you tell him you don’t want to talk about it than just blatantly lie to him

talking it out,, a lot of talking

but it’s okay because it never felt like Kita would judge you in any way

he’s so attentive when he listens to you, he never misses ANYTHING and also remembers the smallest details about you

you can be sure that he’s the best support system, he’s patient, gentle and just overall willing to help, giving alternatives etc.

so damn proud of you for fighting

it’s been a while since you’ve done anything to yourself so when you relapse you don’t know how to face him without feeling guilty,,

you don’t even need to say it out loud, your behavior gives away what’s happened 

he sighs and frowns apologetically, reaching out for your hands

his thumbs stroking softly over your fingers

“May I..?“ He glances to where you hurt yourself. Insecure about your prior action you bite the inside of your cheek. “It’s not that bad anyway..“ You try to talk your way out of it and notice the way his eyebrow twitches in displeasure at your choice of words. “Sorry..“ You say awkwardly as you give in to his touch. Kita brushes up the fabric covering your wounds to take a closer look. You watch his every move as he closes his eyes for a moment, sighing. “Come with me.“ he nods in the direction of your bathroom, making you sit down on the toilet as you get there. Never on earth would you have ever thought you’d witness someone taking care of you so deliberately. Why were you that scared again? You sigh out in relief, earning a confused look of your boyfriend. It wouldn’t stop him though, the only thing he’d do would probably be pulling a grimace whenever you inhaled sharply at the stinging disinfectant. He’s still kneeling in front of you, doesn’t even hesitate to look at you directly before he gets up to cup your face, placing a light kiss on your lips. Picking you up, he carries you to the living room, letting you down on the sofa. “Wait here“ - he left the room as soon as the words left his mouth, only for him to come back with some plushies, blankets and pillows. Bet you’re gonna spend the rest of the day on the sofa, not that you’d complain. However, you end up cuddled up with dozens of plushies around you, the side of your head resting on Kitas chest. You talk and you talk and you talk, until there’s nothing left to say. Don’t think he didn’t notice the way you’re dragging yourself down because of that. He furrows his brows and after some silence he lightly pushes your chin up to make you look at him. “You know I’m not mad at you right?“ You feel your eyes burn at the sincerity of his words. He breathes out a laugh and places kisses all over your face. “You know that relapsing is part of healing and improving right?“ He kisses you all over again. “And you know that healing isn’t a straight-lined process right?“ Man you can barely bite back your tears anymore. If some out stander would have watched the whole scene, they probably would have been shocked at the way Kita started chuckling wholeheartedly. He almost felt sorry - but he wasn’t laughing at you - he just couldn’t help it, you looked too adorable. ”You’ll be just fine, I know you will and I’ll be the one to watch you bloom.“

Hey anon!

I’m sorry it’s taking me way too long to respond but I’m grateful you’re understanding so thank you for your patience.🥺

Don’t be confused as to why I only wrote for Suna and Kita for now, I’ll plan on doing another part for Bokuto and Atsumu! I hope reading that lifted your mood and that you’re doing better now.🥺 take care and stay strong 💖

[inkribbon796]

The Bee ‘n Boo Ch. 1: The Apiary

Summary: The Core Sides go to a nice vacation at a nice bed and breakfast along Brighton beach. But there’s something about the place that doesn’t sit well with Virgil.

Chapters: 1, 2

It began a couple weeks ago, just as Logan began getting less tense around the Sides. It was a mixture of not being attacked by Phantom after the initial scare, and Logan getting some actual decent sleep for the first time in months. Roman was bored and creatively stifled and complained about it to just about anyone who was in ear shot to hear his plight.

Needless to say that everyone was fed up with it and thought it was a good idea to get the Core Sides away for a bit. Joan rather helpfully gave them a link to a bed and breakfast in Brighton and they booked a trip for the weekend to stay there.

Logan and the Sides packed their bags into Logan’s fully fixed car, and drove for an hour or two to Brighton. Virgil in the back seat with Patton, and Roman in the front with Logan.

“This trip will be exactly what the doctor ordered,” Roman sighed, sunglasses perched on his head.

“Interesting enough, Dr. Iplier helped us find reservations,” Logan agreed as he kept his eyes on the road, “so that statement is not inaccurate.”

“Exactly,” Roman grinned. “Warm sun—”

“We’re going to burn,” Virgil warned.

“That’s what the sunscreen is for, you will all wear it,” Logan reassured. “There are no exceptions.”

“—the beach,” Roman continued to list off.

“We’ll be eaten by killer sharks,” Virgil cut in.

“Statistically unlikely for them to kill us,” Logan reminded. “We do have superpowers, after all.”

“Why can’t you two just enjoy this, it’s a vacation,” Roman huffed in exacerbation.

“There are some crazy mixed reviews for this place,” Virgil said instead of answering his boyfriend. “Apparently it’s been up for a couple months now.”

“What’s the name of this place again?” Patton asked, leaning over to get a look at Virgil’s phone.

“The Bee ‘n Boo,” Virgil instinctively tilted his phone away. “And that’s with an apostrophe-n, not the word “and” for all the grammar freaks in the car.”

“I saw the name in the email,” Logan reminded through clenched teeth, glancing at Virgil’s smile in the rearview mirror “I know how it’s spelled.”

“I think it’s cute,” Patton was on his own phone looking at pictures of the place online. “The little bees are adorable.”

“Yeah, apparently it has amazing atmosphere but is awful if you’re allergic to pollen or bees, or are afraid of bees and wasps.” Virgil rolled his eyes.

“So long as they don’t sting my gorgeous face, it’ll be fine,” Roman gestured to himself.

Logan hummed in recognition. “I had to make sure and sign three different waivers that none of us were allergic, apparently there are live bees on the premises.”

“Awww,” Patton said.

The Sides continued traveling until they got to their destination, a little bit off schedule because of traffic but not missing their check in time thanks to Logan’s anal retentive planning.

“Alright I’ll check in and grab a luggage cart,” Logan told them. “We’ll start with the essentials and then come back for the rest of Roman’s belongings he insisted on bringing.”

“Excuse you,” Roman huffed out as he began pulling out three huge red suitcases full of clothing, makeup, shoes, and his hair care products. “I only packed the essentials. The rest of you philistines came Spartan at best.”

Logan stared at him, arms crossed, not commenting that Roman wasn’t even going to use a third of what he had packed. “I’ll be right back with the keys.”

The logical Side took a deep breath and surveyed the bed and breakfast. It was a couple floors and the doors had an emblem of a bee with two horns going upward, and another set curved underneath the bee like ram horns. Etched in gold was the establishment’s name.

Walking inside Logan came to a halt. He wasn’t sure what he expected when he saw pictures of the place. He knew there was an apiary. It was a huge selling point of the bed and breakfast.

But right in the center of the first and second floor with skylights towards the roof was a huge apiary, the receptionist’s desk right in front of it. Colorful and fragrant flowers carefully laid out and bees buzzing around inside the protective area.

Logan walked up to the receptionist desk, the person at the desk cordial and professional.

“Hello,” they greeted with a warm smile. “Welcome to the Bee ‘n Boo, are you here to check in?”

“Yes,” Logan tore his attention away from the apiary. There would be time to observe it later. “It’s filed under: “Sanders”.”

There was a bit of typing from the receptionist and Logan’s attention drifted back to the apiary. The bed and breakfast was well designed, but it was the apiary that held Logan’s attention. It was clearly a labor of love and the entire floor was covered in flowers. It housed a couple beehives, all with the establishment’s emblem carefully erected into the front of every hive. A thin wall of magic barely visible that kept the bees inside the enclosure and the humans out. There were walls of pure magic with a sign on a pillar that read: “Do not interact with the bees. For your own personal safety. -Bee ‘n Boo Management”.

“Logan Sanders?” The receptionist called out and Logan’s attention turned back to them.

“Yes,” Logan answered.

“Everything seems to be in order,” the receptionist hummed and began preparing four keycards. “We just need you to look over and sign this final document. It’s standard at this time of year, with the fireworks and everything,”

The receptionist slid a paper towards him.

Logan sped-read the document. It was a single page front and back with the usual information about the pool and the breakfast bar. But there were three whole paragraphs that immediately drew the logical Side’s attention. It read as follows:

Fireworks and other incendiary type explosives are NOT permitted anywhere on the Bee ‘n Boo premises irregardless of any religious or national holiday. Either within the building or in the parking lot of the premises. This excludes cigarettes, vapes, and cigars that are allowed in the smoking sections of the Bee ‘n Boo. Along with the lighting of candles are permitted both in and around the Bee ‘n Boo premises.

Failure to follow this regulation may result in police and other law enforcement being called and the fireworks will be seized.

The owners and operators of the Bee ‘n Boo, Mr. and Mr. Underscore-Beloved, apologize for any inconvenience this may cause.

The document was signed with two signatures that were the owners’ names: Tubbo and Ranboo Underscore-Beloved.

Logan found the terms agreeable as they had no plans on lighting fireworks or flares, so he signed the document and a copy of the document was given to him.

With that he was given four keycards for the room and Logan thanked the receptionist, remembering to grab a luggage cart on his way back out.

When he got out there he was watching Virgil and Roman lightly bickering about the suitcases. Virgil looked over to Logan as he approached with the cart and immediately noticed the paper with Logan’s scrawl on it.

“What’s that?” Virgil asked. “Thought you signed for everything before we got here?”

“I did, this was just an agreement not to light fireworks or road flares,” Logan said.

“Shame,” Virgil commented, “Patton was excited for a fireworks show.”

Logan picked up his duffle bag and followed Virgil to where Roman and Patton were moving their bags, “Well we are in Brighton so we wouldn’t be seeing any big shows here, we can make a short drive on our way back to Gainesville on Sunday.”

“Yay,” Patton cheered and the group began taking several trips to take all their things upstairs, Logan pausing a bit when they paused the apiary. Expectedly the other Sides froze in awe of it, but Logan was truly captivated by it. After they’d gotten all their stuff upstairs and the car locked, Virgil checked the fob twice to sate his own caution.

Logan went back to their room and barely had the self-control to unpack his computer before he was walking back down to the apiary.

He sat down on a bench and just stared at it. He had never considered magic to be used for such a purpose, but he supposed it was a mistake on his part to assume that magic was so fleeting and bombastic when all he had to go on were the heroes and villains that made up the city.

The logical Side wanted something like this, but not with bees, they didn’t currently have the space for a suitable habitat for them. Maybe ants would be better suited, and he supposed with enough bribery he could get Roman to help him construct it. But for that he needed to know how it was constructed. Did he need materials or was it a purely magical creation from the ground up?

So he requested an audience with one of the owners, figuring that if anyone would know that information it would be them.

A request that was only answered with a half-promise from the receptionist. “Mr. Underscore-Beloved should be in today, I can ask him if the owner is still here.”

“That is more than amenable,” Logan told them. “If they are too busy, I understand.”

After the conversation he waited a few minutes before he was told one of the owners was able to talk with him and it would be another couple of minutes before he was able to come down.

Logan was too busy observing the bees when the owner did come down, but Logan heard the conversation from where he was sitting.

“Hey, Lee, you said someone wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes they’re right over there.”

Logan looked over at the young man talking to the receptionist.

“Hey there,” the tall man greeted Logan as he walked over, he didn’t meet Logan in the eyes. “Ranboo Underscore-Beloved.”

“Sanders,” Logan greeted in return. The young man had a face mask covering his mouth, he looked human with one green eye and the other was red. Logan figured the man had to be around seven feet tall and had hair that was white on one side and black hair on the other. “I wanted to speak with you about the construction of the apiary you have, it’s quite well made.”

“Oh yeah, my husband constructed the enclosure,” Ranboo explained. “He loves bees.”

That surprised Logan, he hadn’t noticed a ring. But it was clear from the expression on Ranboo’s face that he was fond of his spouse so Logan held his tongue about marriage statistics and causations with age.

“Built the hives himself, cast the magic himself,” the young man explained, smiling at the enclosure as if his husband was standing in there.

Then Ranboo’s phone trolled and he immediately dug it out of his pants pocket.

“Pardon me,” he held up a finger, pulling out his phone and turned away. “Hey Bo, you saw my message?”

He paused at whatever answer he was receiving, “Yeah he is . . . no, yeah I’m in front of it . . . yeah, got it.”

Ranboo pulled away from his phone, “He’ll be here soon, he had a couple errands to run.”

“Oh, I don’t mind the wait,” Logan reassured. “I quite like looking at the apiary.”

“Yeah that’s,” Ranboo looked around. He reminded Logan quite a lot of Virgil. “Alright, we’ll just wait.”

And so began one of the most uncomfortable stretches of waiting Logan had dealt with in some time. If they’d just been waiting in silence it would have been fine but there were moments of quiet where the proprietor — or at least someone who Logan thought was the real owner’s son — was quiet and Logan got to concentrate on the apiary and the calming magic that came from it. But then there was the rest of the time where the young man tried to fill the dead silence with nervous small talk.

If Logan hadn’t been so used to communicating with Virgil and Eric he wouldn’t have known how to handle the situation.

After fifteen minutes of awkward, stilted waiting, the other owner showed up. He overlooked him at first because he was expecting someone older.

Someone much older. But Logan had been very much mistaken.

Wearing the same outfit as Ranboo, was a young man with dark brown hair that covered his eyes, and burns on the right side of his face. Where Ranboo was nervous, this young man was the opposite. His gait and stance betrayed someone with experience and confidence well beyond his years.

Logan thought the tall owner looked young but this shorter individual didn’t have the benefit of height to pretend to look older. He didn’t look older than nineteen, and Logan thought that he was probably much younger. This was a minor. Whoever had given these two a business license must have seen something great or lost their minds.

What caught Logan’s throat in his stomach was the papery-looking burn on the right side of his face. They looked old and Logan had to fight his more scientific mind to determine the origin of the burns.

He didn’t want to pry into the young man’s personal affairs.

“It’s, uh,” Ranboo paused. “Mr. Sanders, I believe?”

“Yes, that’s correct,” Logan answered.

“Thanks, bossman,” the shorter man walked over. This made the pair an Englishman and an American, which wasn’t an unexpected pairing in a city like this. “I’ll take it from here.”

“Mr. Underscore-Beloved?” Logan forced himself to say, he thought it was a completely ridiculous name but if it was his legal and more importantly preferred name, Logan had no choice.

“Yeah, you like my bees?” He asked. “They’re my best creation.”

“They certainly have the mark of an expert’s skill,” Logan complimented.

“Oh yeah,” the owner smiled. “Gettin’[1] the queens was the hardest part, actually.”

“You certainly spent a lot of time and energy into the habitat,” Logan commented while abjectly staring at the apiary. “Is it all magic or did you have the beehives constructed?”

“Built them myself,” Tubbo boasted proudly. “Planted the flowers with my husband. Poppies, mint, basil, foxgloves. The bees love them. Built this place so the bees and flowers can get some fresh air without makin’[2] the place drafty or lettin’[3] ‘em[4] out.”

“That’s quite ingenious,” Logan told him, looking back at Tubbo.

Ranboo had stepped away from the conversation when the receptionist called over to him, and then stepped outside for a bit while they were talking. Tubbo occasionally glanced over to keep tabs on where his husband was.

When Ranboo came back in, he was hot on someone else’s heels, another individual following the two.

“He’s talking with someone right now,” Ranboo warned loudly. He was talking to Quackity, a young man with a purple hoodie following close behind them, his hands buried in the pocket of his hoodie.

“I just wanna talk to the kid,” Quackity smiled. “Been ages since we caught up.”

“Quackity, you know you can’t just waltz in here,” Tubbo spat back, stepping in front of Logan. “If you want to talk then you’ll have to wait, I’m in the middle ‘a somethin’.”[5]

“Is it business?” Quackity smiled, staring right into Logan’s eyes. “I love talking business.”

“Not that type ‘a[6] business,” Tubbo glared at him. “We were talkin’[7] about my bees. I don’t step into your casino and talk about my bees there do I?”

Quackity frowned, finally looking away from Logan to Tubbo, “No, I guess you don’t.”

“Come on, he’s—” Purpled began before his companion cleared his throat.

“No,” Quackity interrupted. “Tubbo’s right, this is a paying customer and we are here on other business. I’m sorry we interrupted your little conversation.”

Logan wasn’t sure what to actually say at first but eventually managed, “It’s quite alright, a misunderstanding, I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” Quackity agreed, but with a tone that reminded Logan so much of Janus, but in all the wrong ways.

So Logan excused himself and left, trying to be calm but the instant he was out of sight of the group, he found himself running and hurried to their room. After a moment of fumbling with the keycard, Logan threw open the door and loudly shut it behind him, trying to steady his heart.

“Logan, what happened?” Virgil immediately demanded, looking Logan up and down for any signs of a fight.”

“You okay, Lo?” Patton asked at almost the same time.

“I think the owner of this establishment just saved me from the mafia,” Logan admitted.

“What?” Roman shouted in alarm. He and Patton just stared at him.

“I was talking with one of the proprietors of this establishment and another individual walked in to talk with him as well and he began to get . . .” Logan paused, unsure how to phrase his next words. “He began to get confrontational before the owner made him back off.”

“When was this?” Virgil demanded.

“Just now,” Logan answered. “I thought it was best for me to come back with the rest of you. The apiary is quite lovely, however.”

“Were you accosted? Does your honor need avenging?” Roman demanded.

“I am undamaged, but I feel it’s best if we remain together for the time being,” Logan told them.

“Of course, of course,” Roman smiled, walking over to stand next to Logan and hold out his elbow. “A nice, romantic vacation together, however will I cope?”

“Are we even ready to leave yet?” Logan asked as he linked arms with Roman.

“Nope,” Roman smiled. “But you’re mine now, come along my dear, we’ll go to the beach first and then what say you do some people watching. I know you love it.”

Logan and Virgil initially rolled their eyes, but neither of them could wipe the smiles off their faces. The logical Side felt safe and protected with his boyfriends around him, and that was all he needed right now. They were together, safe, and most importantly: alive. Logan could feel Roman’s pulse under his fingertips, hear him speaking. He was content. They were together and that was what mattered.

After they were finished packing their swimming bags, they went to the beach. Patton was quick to rush into the water as Logan took a seat on one of their towels and just watched Roman and Patton roughhouse in the water. Virgil flipped next to Logan, sprinkling some sand on Logan who gave him a look and dusted the sand off of the book he was reading.

“Have you put on sunscreen yet?” Logan asked. “Your skin is so pale you’re sure to burn.”

“Yeah, just want to make sure you were alright,” Virgil told him.

“I am sufficiently calm,” Logan answered, Roman and Patton walking over.

“You sure?” Patton asked. “This vacation is as much for you as it is for us.”

“I find it hard to relax,” Logan admitted as he leaned back on the beach towel, his book propped on his chest. “After the attacks and everything it seems like I should be braced for some attack . . . some adversary. And the illogical aspect of it is confusing me.”

“You’ve been our pillar for so long, maybe you need a bit of a break?” Patton reminded.

“To let you all do whatever you want with no voice of reason?” Logan chuckled, “as if.”

“Ehhhh,” Roman smiled, chewing on one of the ends of his lens frames. “We tried.”

Logan gave a little chuckle and all the other Core Sides felt at ease at the sound. It had been quite some time since they had heard the logical Side give an honest chuckle.

“Maybe this vacation is a good idea,” Logan decided, sighing deeply. “Perhaps I am tense because I’ve been on edge for too long?”

Virgil ran his fingers through Logan’s hair, “Leave the worrying to me, nerd. You can tell me all about how things are fine and we’ll both feel better.”

Logan smiled warmly at him, closing his eyes softly, “That seems like a good use of our time.”

The other three Sides smiled back at Logan before they began to well and truly relax for the first time in a long time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations:

1. Getting

2. making

3. letting

4. them

5. If you want to talk then you’ll have to wait, I’m in the middle of something.

6. of

7. talking

[hms-chill]

The Two Princes

Summary: An AU based on the podcast The Two Princes. When Prince Henry sets out to break the mysterious curse that’s destroying his kingdom, he’s ready to face whatever dastardly villain or vile monster stands in his way. What he isn’t prepared for are the bewildering new emotions he feels when he meets the handsome Alex, a rival prince on a quest to save his own realm. Forced to team up, the two princes soon discover that the only thing more difficult than saving their kingdoms is following their hearts.

--

Chapter 1: Once Upon a Time

--

Chapter 2: Prince and Thief

The next morning finds Henry beating his way through trees with Shaan’s sword, tired and hungry and scratched all over. What sleep he’d managed to get was interrupted by falling branches and a rustling that never stopped, not once, and had him jolting awake every time his eyes closed. He is just so sick of this forest, and its stupid trees, and its stupider vines. It’s just trees, and trees, and more trees, and they all look the bloody same. He hacks through a final vine and stumbles into a clearing, and suddenly, there’s something vaguely familiar. He digs through his bag for a minute and pulls out the map Shaan gave him, and it clicks. If that oak tree in front of him, with branches shaped like a skull, is the same skull tree as the one on his map, then he knows where he is. Sort of. If he can figure out which direction is north. Then he’ll just--

There’s a cracking nearby, and Henry pulls out Shaan’s sword, turning toward it. “Hello? What was that? Is someone out there? If so, I warn you, I’m armed!”

There’s nothing there, but he holds the stance for a breath. Two. Three. He sighs eventually, then sheathes the sword. It’s probably nothing. Just because everyone back home thinks the forest is full of monsters doesn’t mean it’s actually haunted. He’s just decided that there can’t be anything too much worse than what he’d have dealt with at home when a massive wasp dives straight for his head.

He lets out a decidedly unprincely squawk, diving away with his hands over his head as it turns to hover in front of him. Its buzzing fills the clearing, and when he gets a full look at it, it’s enormous. He’s just starting to wonder about how it stays airborne, and what it eats, and how something like this can have lived so close to the Kingdom of the West when it dives again, and he’s sent scrambling out of its way. It turns again, and he draws the sword.

“Okay, look. I don’t believe in violence, but the last twenty four hours have been an exhausting combination of the last seventeen years. So if you want to fight, let’s fight. I’m done being Mr. Nice Prince.”

The wasp gives no indication that it understands his words, diving again, stinger forward. Henry blocks it with his sword, shoving it back. It comes again, and he swings wildly, not sure what else to do. It squeaks and chitters, and he slashes at it again, then again, dodging its stinger and letting his instincts take over until one particularly hefty thrust is met with a squishing sound he never wants to hear anything like again.

The buzzing stops, and the forest is quiet. Henry looks down at the sword to see the body of the wasp impaled on it, limp. He shakes it off quickly, then brushes the sword in the grass, trying desperately to get all the bug guts off it before the reality of what he’s done sinks in, and a grin creeps over his face.

He’s just defeated his first monster. He is amazing. Sure, it was more bug than monster, but still. He’s faced a monster from the cursed forest, and he came out on top, because he’s an amazing prince, and he is more than ready to face anything this forest has to throw at him. He’s turning out to be quite the natural hero.

That is, until the buzzing starts up again, louder than before. Henry turns to the bug, but it’s still there, dead as ever with a black ooze seeping from the cut in its abdomen. Then he turns to look behind him, and there are more wasps than he can count, and suddenly, Henry remembers that wasps build nests. Nests that house up to 10,000 wasps. And even if he’s sure he’s a great hero, every great hero he’s ever read about knew to pick their battles, and this doesn’t seem like one that it would be particularly wise to pick. So he starts to back away, debating if it’s wiser to try to run but turn his back on the bugs or just back away slowly. His decision is made for him when the first bug swoops down, and he has to bat it away with his sword.

“I’m sorry I killed your friend, but in my defense, he totally deserved it,” Henry tells the bugs, swatting at them frantically. “I really am the biggest nature lover; you can ask anyone back in the West and they’ll--” He takes another step back, and his foot goes straight through whatever foliage covers the forest floor. It’s too late to stop himself as he goes tumbling backward, a scream following him down.

He lands in a pile of leaves and mushrooms, and after a minute to get his bearings and make sure he’s all in one piece, he realizes he’s surrounded by the worst stench he’s ever smelled. It smells like it might be rotting cabbage, or maybe David’s chamber pot. Whatever it is, it’s foul, and he realizes that the mushrooms he’s landed in are sticky, and if that isn’t just the tip of the iceberg of what an awful day this has been he’s not sure what is. He is going to need a bath, and probably to sleep for the next year when he gets back home.

Still, as he gets up and tries to brush whatever mushroom gunk he can off of himself, he realizes that it’s not as bad as he’d thought. The scent is less rank now, almost pleasant, something closer to a garden than he’d have thought. He’s somehow unsure what he was complaining about as a lightness spreads over him, and he looks around at the flowers spreading out before him with a bit of a laugh. Maybe he’ll build a house down here, and he’ll live in this nice floaty feeling. Maybe he should invite the wasps-- the wasps seem to have disappeared, but before he can process that, there’s a woman’s sing-song voice echoing around him.

“Oh Darling,” it calls, and Henry turns to notice a tunnel lined with flowers.

“What? Who, but… who said that?” Words are harder to string together now, but he finds them eventually, because he is a brave, heroic prince.

“I did. Is that you, my darling?” The voice calls, and Henry feels a dopey grin spread across his face.

“Maybe, I mean, yeah, I could be someone’s darling.”

“Where are you, darling?”

“I’m… at the bottom of a pit,” Henry says, just now realizing that he might not know the best way to reach whoever this is, “where are you?”

“I’m here too. Further down. Come find me, darling.” He might be imagining it, but Henry could swear the vines in front of him seem to part and shift, beaconing him down the tunnel before him. “I’ve been waiting for you for so long.”

“Oh, well, I’m sorry. Wh-- How do I… How do I find you?”

“Just follow my voice, darling! Then we will be together forever.” The vines in front of him shift a bit more, and he realizes her voice is coming from there.

“Mmm, together. That sounds nice.” And it does. It would be nice to be with someone; he’s spent quite a lot of time alone, and having a friend to spend time with sounds good. So he follows the vines and her voice, the smile still on his face as she starts to sing.

“This is the song that I sing to my love Aren’t I lucky you fell from above When we’re together, my cute little pup I’ll hold you and squeeze you and gobble you up.”

Something about that feels wrong, and after a minute, Henry says, “wait, gobble me up?”

“Metaphorically speaking,” she says, and his whole body relaxes again, the nice peaceful joy retaking his brain.

“Oh, well, that’s okay, then.”

“Life without love, like a life without food Is empty and barren and terribly crude But you came along dear, to fill up my heart And also my stomach--”

“What?”

“Forget that last part.”

“Hey, I think I see a light up ahead. Is that you, Lady Voice?” It’s a beautiful light, a nice warm green that seems ready to fold him into a nice, safe hug and protect him from the forest’s monsters.

“That’s me, darling, keep walking. You’re almost there, just a few more--” And then he’s pushing aside a curtain of vines and he’s in a cavern, and he interrupts with sounds of awe.

It is the most incredible place he could have ever imagined. Flowers cover every surface, vines creeping up the walls and shorter plants carpeting the floor. “This place is incredible; I’ve never seen so many flowers. Where am I?”

The voice is closer now. “Where you’ve always been headed, and where you’ve always wanted to be. The Garden of Delights!”

“The Garden of Delights? Well that sounds… delightful!” He says it with a little giggle, and she giggles, too, but there’s still something nagging at the back of his head. He frowns, trying to concentrate, trying to pull the pieces of what he remembers through the fog of his brain as he says, “but I actually think I was headed somewhere else… Somewhere called the… the Hollow of… You know what, I can’t actually remember. Why can’t I remember?”

“Don’t worry about it. In fact, you don’t need to worry about anything else ever again.” The woman in front of him seems to have just appeared, stepping out from between the vines as naturally as if she’d grown there. The green of her dress shimmers as she smiles at him, reaching out a hand

“Who are you?” He asks, trying to take her all in.

“I’m Flora, of course. The goddess of love.”

“Wow. You are… really beautiful.”

“I am. And what’s your name, Darling?” She croons, and Henry has to stop for a second.

“Oh, I’m… I’m uh… Hang on, I know this. I totally know this. I’m um, um, uh, Hen.. Hen… Henry. Yeah, I’m Henry. That’s who I am. Henry.”

“I’m so pleased to meet you, Henry. But won’t you come a little closer?” she asks, reaching out both arms to him. “You’re still so far away.”

“Oh, sure. Although, I feel like I should let you know, I’m not looking for anything romantic right now, I just wanted to be up front about where I’m at emotionally, just so there are no hurt feelings--”

She shushes him with a sound like wind through the trees, and Henry shuts his mouth, all but floating toward her outstretched arms. “All I want to do is sooth your troubled brow and lift the weight of the world from your weary shoulders,” she croons. Vines start to snake out from the walls behind her, and Henry takes a step back in alarm.

“What are those?”

“Those are my tendrils of love. Don’t be frightened, darling, they only want to caress you,” she reassures him. They curl around him, nice at first, then pulling tighter, squeezing him in.

“Yeah, they’re… they’re actually a little constricting?” He tells her, trying to pull himself out. She laughs.

“Only because you’re struggling.”

“Um, look, could we take a pause for a moment? You’re really nice, but I think I need some fresh air,” Henry says, suddenly realizing how long it’s been since he took a deep breath. “It’s kind of hard to breathe down here, and hard to think, it’s the smell, it’s just, there’s something about it, it’s--”

“Full of love?”

“No, it’s just… it’s too sweet, I can’t… I can’t focus…” He tries to think back to how he got here, to where he is, and how and why he ever left home.

“You’ll feel better soon, I promise, just come a little closer,” Flora croons. The vines pull him forward despite his struggles, squeezing tighter and tighter.

“No, something’s not right, I should go…”

“But darling, no one ever leaves the garden of delights.”

“Please, tell your tendrils to let go of me!” He’s begging now, trying harder and harder to get air into his lungs that’s not tinged with the awful sickly-sweet smell of flowers.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Yes you can, now let go of me!”

He’s finally getting some of the tendrils off when Flora rears back, suddenly blocking the light from above and plunging the cavern into an emerald darkness as she roars, “stop fighting me, mortal! I told you, no one ever leaves the garden of delights! Now, come closer.”

“What are you?! You’re not a goddess,” Henry fights back the scream, but the mouth in front of him cracks into a wide smile, one lined with thorns, and he doesn’t want to find out if they’re as sharp as they look.”

“No, I am a very hungry plant, and it’s been ages since I’ve had a meal as big and scrumptious as you.” Her laughter echoes around him as he struggles, clinging to whatever plant matter doesn’t seem to be connected to her as she pulls him to her mouth.

“No, let me go! Please, somebody help me! Help!” His scream echoes around the room, but he knows that no one is coming. The forest is forbidden; no one comes here. It’s a death trap, and he’d known that, and he’d wandered blindly in anyway. He’s just wishing he’d told his mother where he was going, or given David a last pat, when a voice rings out around him.

“That’s enough, monster!” There’s the sound of an arrow being let loose, and the plant drops Henry to the ground, screaming.

“My eye!” She’s shrunk down enough to let light filter in through her leaves, and in the false twilight, Henry sees another figure in the room with them.

“Who are you?”

The man turns to him, but instead of a greeting or explanation, he gets, “head back the way you came; you’ll find a rope you can climb to the surface. I’m going to take care of this overgrown fly trap. Now, go.” The other man draws his sword as the plant rears back up, a sickly looking flower growing over where her eye used to be.

“I’m going to tear you limb from limb, you filthy, stinking human,” she fumes, and the other man just laughs.

“Funny. I was thinking the same thing about you.” He shoves Henry toward the door, and Henry runs, followed by the sounds of sword on vine. He’s halfway up the rope when it starts to move below him, and he looks down to see the other man climbing, too. They clamber to the top together, and Henry flops onto safe ground, overwhelmingly glad to be able to see the sky.

“That was intense. What was that thing?” He asks, still trying to get his breath back. The other man stands up beside him, brushing his hands off and pulling up the rope.

“I don’t know what they’re called, but the forest is full of them.”

“Wow, I’m really glad you came along, thank you.” The other man holds out a hand to help him up, and Henry sees him in full for the first time. He’s not wearing a helmet, but he is shorter than Henry, so the first thing he notices is the tousled hair, a sort of effortless beauty to it even as it’s full of leaves and twigs. Then he sees the other man’s face, and he is, undeniably, the most beautiful thing Henry has ever seen. His brain is telling him to ignore it, but the command gets muddled somewhere on his way to his mouth, because Henry just keeps talking through his realization. “Thank you for rescuing me, and for… for being so beautiful.”

“What?” he’s turned his attention to coiling the rope, but the other man looks up at being called beautiful, and Henry’s brain finally processes what his mouth said. He has to fix it.

“I mean brave. Thank you for being so brave, not beautiful. Sorry, that was weird, I don’t know why I said that. I think some of those toxins must still be messing with my head, making me say crazy things. I don’t think you’re beautiful.” The other man frowns, and Henry rushes to correct himself. “I mean, not that you’re ugly. Obviously you’re not ugly. I just mean if I had to choose, you know? If you put a sword to my head and said ‘am I attractive or ugly, pick one’ I’d have to say attractive because objectively that’s just a fact, but it’s not like you’re so attractive I can’t stop looking at you.” He is so attractive Henry can’t stop looking at him, but that’s the point where his brain finally catches up with his mouth enough to ask, “am I talking a lot? I feel like I’m talking a lot.”

“You are.” The other man is now thoroughly unimpressed, and Henry sighs.

“So, anyway, what I meant to say was, thank you. Thank you for… saving my life. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come along.” He’s studying his boots, just noticing how stained they’ve gotten after just a day in the forest.

“Then it’s a good thing I’ve been following you.” That gets Henry’s attention, even if the other man is still busy doing something with his rope.

“What? You’ve been following me?”

“For the last hour.” He says it like it’s something Henry should have noticed, so Henry nods.

“Ah, I thought someone was watching me.” Then he realizes a point where his plan to play along falls apart, and he asks, “wait, why were you following me? Also, what’s with the lasso?”

“I have some questions, and since I don’t know or trust you, I feel like you’ll be more inclined to answer them if I tie you up and dangle you from a tree.”

It sounds like a good plan, and Henry’s nodding and agreeing that it makes sense before he realizes what he’s saying enough to be scared. By that point, the rope is already around his legs, and they’re already being pulled out from under him, leaving him to dangle upside down from the nearest tree. “Hey, no, let me down from here, I thought we were friends! This is so not necessary.”

“Now then, who are you, and what are you doing in this forest?” The other man asks, ignoring Henry’s pleas.

“Me? I’m no one; no one at all. I’m literally just passing through.”

The other man just circles him, studying him closely. When he speaks, it sounds like it’s more to himself than to Henry. “Your clothes are filthy, but clearly Western, and your sword is… engraved with royal insignia.” He draws his own sword, holding it under Henry’s chin to ask, “do you work for the royal family?”

“What? No, no, no, definitely not. I definitely do not work for the royal family.” Because, technically, he reasons with himself, he doesn't.

“So you’re alone then? No one from the royal family is with you?” The other man demands, and Henry nods as best he can.

“Yeah, no, yeah, totally alone, no one from the royal family, I swear.”

He puts his sword back, and Henry takes a deep breath as he says, “sorry, can’t be too careful in this forest.”

“Yeah, no, no, no, totally understand.”

“My name is Alex,” he continues, apparently not having heard Henry’s agreement. “Prince of the East; no doubt you’ve heard of me?”

“Uh… not really.”

“I’m the son of Queen Ellen, Heir to the Eagle Throne, Defender of the Stonewalled Realm...” He turns to Henry, who just shakes his head.

“Sorry.”

“Hero of the Unstained Blade. Protector of the Rainbow Flame, Champion of Justice for All.”

“Wait, what was that last one?”

“Champion of Justice for All.” He’s dropped the presentory tone, and Henry pretends to take a second to think before shaking his head.

“Yeah, no.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, sorry, we don’t really get much news about you guys in the West. We weren’t even sure there was anyone left in the East to be totally honest; we thought maybe the forest had finished you off.”

“Oh.” Alex’s shoulders seem to slump a little, and even if he’s just imagining it, Henry can’t have that. Especially not when Alex still has him hung from a tree.

“But, it’s so great to meet you! I’ve never met anyone from the East before, and now that I have, I’m like… woah, you people are awesome. I don’t know why we ever went to war with you, so can you maybe like… let me down now?”

Alex’s princely persona is back, and he steps closer to Henry. “You haven’t told me who you are or what you’re really doing in this forest.”

“Me? Um, I’m… my name is… David.” It’s the first thing he can think of, and the minute it’s out of his mouth he wants to cringe, but Alex is nodding.

“David?”

“Yeah, everybody calls me David.” Shit, he’s just told Alex he’s alone. “Not that I know many people, because I live here. By myself. Just… totally alone.”

“You live in the forbidden forest?” There’s a hint of genuine curiosity to Alex’s tone, and Henry nods.

“Yeah. I’m on the run, you see, from the royal family of the West. Whom we both hate.” That’s true, too, even if he wishes it weren’t. Alex nods, then frowns.

“Why are you on the run?”

“That is a… great question.” One for which he has no answer. “I am on the run because I… am a thief.” Which, again, technically true.

“A thief?”

Henry finds himself nodding. Now that he’s committed to the story, he has to stick with it. “Yeah, uh huh, I’m a thief! I mean, how do you think I got that sword? I mean, not to brag, but I’m basically the greatest thief in all the West.” He’s pretty proud of his lie, and Alex nods along, then frowns.

“Great. Just what I need. A vagabond with no concept of honor! Oh well; the forest can deal with you.” He stands up, and Henry starts to struggle again.

“Wait, what? Where are you going; you can’t leave me like this!” he protests, but Alex shakes his head. Every bit of personality Henry got a glimpse of is gone, Alex’s chin out, his chest up.

“I also can’t have a confessed criminal running around this forest.”

There’s a steady stream of swear words running through Henry’s head, but he finds another lie somewhere between them. “No no no; you don’t understand. When I said a thief, I meant like… a Robin Hood situation, steal from the rich, give to the poor. That’s why the royal family hates me! I’m too good. I mean, where I’m from, I’m basically a hero--”

“A hero?”

“In… the loosest sense of the word.”

“How long have you lived in this forest?” Alex is dropping bits of his princeliness now, leaning in to get a closer look at Henry. Henry hopes Alex can’t see any of his stress about lying.

“Uh… years. What, well, like… forever.”

Alex processes that, then says, “and yet, you nearly got eaten by a talking plant less than ten minutes ago because you wandered blindly into her lair.” Henry just nods, still trying to think.

“Yes. But, that’s the first time something like that has ever happened to me in all the many years I’ve lived here. So in terms of navigating the dangers of this forest, that’s actually a point in my favor.”

Alex hums, then pulls his sword out again, slicing through the ropes holding Henry up. Henry tumbles, groaning as he sits up and rubs his head. “Thanks, but next time? Give a guy a little warning before you cut him down.”

“I’ll make you a deal, Thief.”

“You can call me David,” Henry offers, getting to his feet, but Alex doesn’t acknowledge him.

“My first night in this forest, my horse got spooked and ran off with my map. Since then, I’ve been--”

“Hopelessly lost?”

“In need of directions.”

“Ah.” Of course; a perfect prince with a million titles like Alex could never be lost.

“If you can take me where I need to go,” he says, “I promise I’ll spare your life and set you free when my quest is over.”

“Uh, sure, yeah, okay. Where do you want to go?” Henry’s not sure how good of a guide he’ll be, but he has his map, and at this point, he’ll do anything to get down and he can move from there.

“The Hollow of the Kings.”

“The Hollow?” The Hollow Henry’s trying to get to, too? The one at the center of the forest; the Hollow of legend?

“You know it?”

“Uh, yeah, of course, but why do you want to go there?”

“That’s none of your business. All you need to know is that it’s imperative I get to the Hollow as soon as possible. Now, do we have a deal, or should I get my rope?” Of course he won’t say anything. But still, Henry’s going to the Hollow anyway, and he’d love to stay out of a tree.

“No! I mean, yes, yes, I’d love to take you to the Hollow.”

“Good, then it’s a deal.”

“Absolutely. Shake on it?” Alex just huffs, looking personally offended at Henry’s outstretched hand.

“A prince, shake hands with a thief?” Henry pulls his hand back automatically, trying to disguise his offer of a handshake with trying to rub his arm.

“Okay, or not. Not shaking also works.”

“Good, then let’s get started. Now that you work for me, you’ll carry my things.” Alex tosses a bag at Henry, and he catches it just before it hits the ground.

“Oh. Yeah, yeah, sure, okay, no problem buddy.”

“Don’t call me ‘buddy’.”

“Okay, no problem, Boss.”

“Your Royal Highness is fine.”

“Got it.”

“Also, from now on, please only speak when spoken to. You talk a lot, and your accent’s giving me a headache.” Alex is already on the move, though Henry’s not sure where he’s going if Henry’s supposed to be his guide. So he hurries after him.

“Oh. Really? We could be walking for a while, and not talking could make it hard to get to know each other.”

“Exactly. Also--”

“Ugh, how many rules do you have?” Henry asks, but Alex turns to look directly at him for the first time since they’ve met.

“If I find out you’re lying to me, about anything, I’ll feed you to the nearest plant. Got it?”

“Got it,” Henry says, swallowing a lump bigger than the multitude of lies he’s told in the past two minutes.

“Great. Well then, what are you waiting for? Lead me to the Hollow!” Alex claps Henry on the shoulder, the closest thing they’ve had to camaraderie yet. And Henry pulls out the map, hoping he hasn’t gotten himself into something he won’t be able to get out of.

--

On AO3

--

Notes:

And we meet Alex! And watch Henry be a mess!

--

Want to support the Hannah Makes Art Fund? You can tip me in ko-fi here!

[babieyangyang10]

violent ends (chapter 11)

(chapter 11)

series masterlist

genre: hunger games!au

pairings: huang renjun x oc, na jaemin x oc

warnings: language, death, description of injuries, hallucinations, important character death,

previous | next

Athena's POV

It was quick the way he died. Before Haechan fell forward, his left eye cried tears of blood. There was nothing on his face, no acknowledgement or realisation of what just occurred. No evidence of any previous life in his face.

Just nothing.

People always say that your entire life flashes before your eyes once you die. However, there was not even enough time for that. No time to remember the eighteen years he once lived. He was just gone.

Mark Lee and I sprung forward. Once the corpse was thrown off him, Mark lifted up Jisung from the water. The young boy bent over and began coughing up the water in his lungs.

Once he finished, you could tell the reality of what just happened to him was sinking in. Frantically looking around, he saw Haechan laying face-down in the water, blood flowing out from his wound. Going pale, Jisung silently grabbed the body and flipped him over. He ripped his hand away and would've screamed if it wasn't for my hand covering his mouth.

Not used to injuries, Jisung was practically hyperventilating at the site of my throwing knife lodged in one of the body's lifeless eyes,

"Jisung, it's okay. Don't look at it." I brought my hand down and closed the remaining eye, thinking it would help. It didn't.

"Oh my god. What did you do?!" Jisung was about to throw up.

Mark looked around nervously, before saying, "She saved you. Quick, let's go." He grabbed the distressed boy's arm and pulled him to his feet.

After we had gotten a good distance away, I could hear the cannon go off.

"That could've been me." Jisung mumbled to himself in disbelief. He looked really bad. Almost as if he could go off the deep end any second. I mean, the kid has came to the brink of death twice in the span of only two days.

Trying to lighten his spirits, I suggest, "You're a lucky kid, aren't you?"

He considers my words before murmuring, "Yeah, I guess so."

Chenle's POV

I think I'm the unluckiest kid in the world, right now.

As the Careers and Jaemin start yapping away, I take this opportunity to look around the tree for something to help us escape. Alarmed, I look around where Jaemin is perched to see a raccoon sized nest. Swaying gently, I peek around to discreetly get a better look. Immediately, the bright gold body captures my eye.

No, these aren't just any wasps, they're tracker jackers.

Made in the Captiol's labs, they were placed directly in the districts during the war. Tracker Jackers were named according to their ability to 'track' down and hunt anyone who comes into contact with them. If they bite you, most likely you'll die. Even if you don't, most people will go mad from experiencing the hallucinations from the venom.

Our options are: we let Haechan come back and kill us or possibly die from these creatures. Reaching behind Jaemin, I discreetly began sawing away at the limb carrying the nest with my knife. Both Jaemin and the people below were too wrapped up in the conversation to notice what I was doing.

I kept sawing back and forth. Suddenly, a tracker jacker came calmly out of the nest. Holding my breath, I watch as it walks onto an unaware Jaemin's hand. Unable to warn him, I just speed up as quick as I can. More and more tracker jackers began leaving the nest to check out what was happening. Back, forth! Back, forth! Another jacker lands on Jaemin's shoulder.

Then there was a cannon.

The nest fell down right after. I could hear Jaemin yelp, however, I just pulled him out of the tree and bolt. I could hear the two Careers yelling above the buzzing from the army of angry wasps.

Once we've ran far from the chaos, I stopped to check on Jaemin. Right away, I noticed the plump-sized lumps on his neck and hand.

"I'm Jaemin," He slurs, "Nice to meet you, sir."

Oh my god.

Jaemin squints his eyes, trying to focus, "I have to admit. I've never met a three-headed, green person before. Are there others like you?"

It was almost dark, we have to get home, now. I grab him and began running again. Once we get to camp, I spot Mark, Athena, and Jisung all sitting down.

"Jaemin, got stung by tracker jackers!" I'm out of breath. Lee Athena immediately runs over to us, stopping in front of the disoriented boy.

"Athena, is that you?" His eyes are excited, but confused. The girl grabs his hand and quickly removes the stinger and does the same to his swollen neck. Green pus seems out from the now orange-sized bumps.

"I think-" His eyes roll over to the back of his head and Athena barely manages to catch him before he falls to the ground. Mark runs over and helps her carry him into the shack.

The next day, she took care of him. Every few hours, she would grind up a special leaf to put on the wounds.

She knew a lot about the wilderness. While Mark stayed to watch Jaemin, she would take Jisung and I out to practice hunting. It was nice learning, especially since I have always felt bad for relying on Mark so much. Not only does he have to take care of himself, but he also has to make sure two, weak kids don't die as well. After capturing a rabbit this morning, I felt happy knowing I got to help ease the pressure, even if it's just small.

"Good job, Chenle." He praised, making my heart swell. We were all sitting around the fire.

"I bet I'll get a even bigger one tomorrow." Jisung challenged, making us all chuckle.

Eventually, the conversation led to us talking about living in our different districts.

"Yeah, I swear all District 10 has is cows and desert. Although, I got to grow up with a lot of different animals, which was really fun." I explained.

"I wish I could see a desert, but we have that fence keeping us in District 11. Growing up, a lot of us had to climb trees in the orchards for fruit, which could be pretty fun. Although, it wasn't fun when you'd occasionally run into the tracker jackers." Jisung winced in remembrance.

"At least you guys have the orchards, District 12 is really small. When you turn eighteen, you work for the coal mines. Food is pretty hard to get also. To get grain and oil, I had to enter my name into the Reaping about forty times." We all gasped aloud  at Mark.

"I have a question that I've always wanted to ask," Jisung announced, "I've seen District 12 do that think with the three fingers so many times. What does it actually mean?"

"It's been around forever, I guess. It's a sign of love and respect to show thankfulness for someone or something. Sometimes we use it to say goodbye. That's what everyone did to me, when I left after the Reaping." Mark explained to him.

Jisung kissed his three fingers and held them up in the air, "Well, I love and respect all of you."

All four of us, Mark, Jisung, Athena, and myself, giggled and did the salute to each-other before heading off to sleep.

Athena's POV

It's now been two days, since Jaemin has first been stung. The swelling has gone completely down, however, he still has a bit of a fever and hasn't woken up.

The most nerve wracking part is that, until he wakes up, I can't feed him anything. I can't even give him water to drink. It's not like real life, where he would have a feeding tube. Even we were alone, we barely got anything to eat. Gosh, it really is so easy to die of hunger in here.

Today, the boys wanted to show off their new hunting skills to Mark. So, it was just Jaemin and I at the camp. Apart from Haechan, none of the other Careers have shown up in the sky so far. So, I have no idea if Renjun is the same way as Jaemin. However, his health shouldn't be of my concern, anyway.

Since they are just two members now, Mark and I have been discussing an attack on them. After he snuck to their territory, he saw that they have pilled up all the supplies. Protecting them are random mines, which, if you stepped wrong, could easily blow you up to pieces.

Instead of risking stepping on a mine by trying to fight them directly, we thought we should find a way to blow up the pile of supplies. That way, they'll starve themselves out.

Suddenly, I notice Jaemin stir. His eyes are confused and wide. He looks around his surroundings, before he sees me next to him.

"Athena!" His voice is excited and relieved, yet weak. His hand shoots out to grab mine.

I sigh, "You've been out for two days, you know."

"Are you serious?" He looks around again, "Wait, where are we?"

"We're at Mark's camp. Chenle brought you back." I said, knowing he probably doesn't remember anything.

I hear a pleasant beeping noise, which makes me nearly burst with happiness. Near our feet, a box drops. Inside is a container of warm soup and a spoon.

Knowing he was still in bad shape, I grab the spoon and scooped up some soup to feed to him. Smiling, he accepted the food. His eyes shut in delight, finally getting to eat a real meal.

He happily suggests, “You should eat some."

I know he hasn’t eaten for two whole days. This makes me feel warm, knowing that, even though he’s literally starving, he would still offer me it.

"I think Jisung and Chenle would kill me if I didn't eat what they catch,” I laugh before getting serious, “Besides, you really need it right now."

He’s disappointed, but still continues eating.

Concerned, I ask, "So, are you doing okay? I mean those hallucinations can be really messed up."

"I mean, apart from the trees turning into blood and thinking ants were eating me, I'm fine. Especially, since your here now." Jaemin laughs.

I shake my head, smiling at the ground.

"I mean it, though. I felt so bad after I lost you. If I had known you stopped, I would've gone back for you, Athena,” He stops me, “You know that right?"

"Well, I did have your supplies." I point out.

He provides clarity, "Supplies or not, you're still a priority to me. That's just not even a question at this point."

I felt a deep pang in my chest. There’s so many things I want to say. On instinct, with both of my palms, I hold his face in my hands,"If there wasn't cameras on us right now, I would-"

Jaemin breathes out, "Who's stopping you?"

His eyes darted down to my lips, then back up to my eyes. I checked his face to see if there was any hint of joking, yet his eyes were filled with warmth. It occurred to me that he was feeling the same need and want that I was. Like if I were in a black hole, I felt myself being pulled closer and closer into him.

"Hey Athena, look what I caught—oh,uh?"

Jisung, stares in shock, at the close proximity between Jaemin and I's faces.

I jump up, brushing myself off, "Come on, kid. Let's go see it."

Jisung brought me outside to see Mark and Chenle by the fire.

“Jaemin is awake.” I announced to the two boys.

“That’s really good.” I could tell Chenle had felt guilty about him getting stung.

Mark proposed, “Well, today I was thinking that we should go destroy the supplies.”

Chenle eagerly asked, “Can I help?”

“Well, I guess you could help us by starting fires with me to lead them away from the Cornocopia.” Mark turned to Jisung, “Jisung, could you stay with Jaemin?”

“What’s going on?” Jaemin popped his head out of the shack.

“We’re going to destroy Jeno and Renjun’s supplies.” I caught him up.

His eyebrows are furrowed, “Are you going?”

“Of course.” I nod, plainly.

After we ate, I headed into the shack to get my backpack. On the ground, Jaemin was looking up at me unhappily, completely different from how he usually looks at me.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s just,” He sighs, “every time we’re separated, something bad always happens.”

“Well, you still need to rest, besides I’ll have Mark with me.” I lie. Mark will be separated from me, but I didn’t want to stress him out.

“You better come back. I’m serious.” He deadpans.

“Okay, Na Jaemin.”

I brush his hair out of his face. He’s not aware, but I can’t help but thinking the way he’s looking at me reminds me of a lost puppy, “I mean it.”

“I know.” I smile.

Then, Mark, Chenle, and I began heading towards the Cornocopia. As we’re walking, I notice Mark fiddling with something on his jacket.

“What’s that?” I ask, intrigued.

“It’s a mockingjay pin.” He states. The pin contained the small golden bird with an ring around it. It’s connected to the ring only by its wing tips.

Mockingjays were the result of a failed project by the Capitol to spy on the rebellious districts. Because of this, they have become a symbol for the rebellion. It’s almost as if they are rubbing it in the Capitol’s faces.

“I like it,” I beam up at him, “It suits you.”

“I think so too. It’s cool.” Chenle gushes.

Mark blushes before coming to a stop, “This is where we separate. Chenle, after I set the fire, wait a little before setting yours. That way they’ll think it’s real and definitely come to yours.

All alone, I hide beneath the trees as I come to a stop in front of the Cornocopia. Sitting to the right of the supplies, were a group of boys. Along with Jeno and Renjun, I spotted a boy from District 3. I’m assuming he’s Haechan’s replacement.

“Guy’s look!” Jeno points out. There, hidden in the tree’s, Mark has created a fire. The smoke created a cloud in the sky right above his position.

“Let’s go, Renjun. Guard the place, until we get back.” Jeno tells the young boy.

Once they’re gone, I grab into my backpack and pull out knife. Getting ready to throw, I rear back my hand.

However, from the left, a figure darts out from the woods. Avoiding the piles of buried mines, she is calculated and precise. From the pile, the red-head grabs an armful of supplies and runs past the District 3 boy.

As a result, he stood up and began chasing her into the woods. Perfect.

I scan the pile, looking for something I could knock down to trigger the mines. That way, I would be kept safe from the blast. At the very top is a bag of bright red and green apples.

Taking a deep breath, I throw a knife as hard as I can. It manages to make a rip in the bag, but not big enough for the fruit to fall through.

So, I grab another one. I calm myself down, before I launch my second one. Almost in slow motion, I watch as an single apple drops from the fresh hole. Rolling forward, it halts on top of one of the piles.

One after the other, all of the mines are triggered. Before I can react, I am thrown back by the incredible force. I can feel ash and debris raining down on my head. In my head and ears, I can hear a sharp buzzing. With my fingers, I could feel blood coming out of my left ear.

Running back from the woods, Renjun and Jeno meet the District 3 boy in the middle. I was able to see if Jeno had even said anything. Although, even over the buzzing, I could hear the crack of the boys neck after Jeno snapped it.

Alarmed, I run back into the woods to hide. Blinking, I could feel my sight and hearing slowly coming back.

“Help!” I hear a young voice. Wow, that was quick. The Careers already found another victim.

“Mark! Athena!”

Chenle!

I run, following the shouts. Not even caring if I was about to run face first into a planned trap. His shouts continue and I feel can feel the quick tempo of my heart.

When I force my way into a clearing, I spot the young boy entrapped in a net on the grown. He stops struggling and smiles in relief when he spots me in front of him.

However, it fades when the arrow lodges straight into his chest.

To my left, I look just in time to see Mark shoot an arrow into the neck of the other District 12 tribute. Using my knife, I quickly cut Chenle free from the net. Mark runs over, propping him up in his arms. Blood is seeping through his shirt. I look up at Mark, giving him a telling look.

“Is it bad?” He doesn’t have enough strength to look down. I don’t know what to say.

“I never imagined I would go like this.” His voice is shaky, but knowing.

The cannon for the District 12 girl goes off.

Chenle reaches for my hand, “Please, don’t leave me.”

With my free hand, I wipe some of his tears, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Did you blow up the supplies?” His voice is in a hopeful whisper.

“All of it.” He smiles at this.

Looking up at Mark and me, Chenle breathes out, “Thank you both. For protecting me. Even in these circumstances, these past days have been some of the best days of my life thanks to you.”

I feel my throat become choked up. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to get attached to these people, who are supposed to be my competition. But I did and I don’t regret any of it for a damn second.

There’s fear in his eyes, “You two, don’t forget me, okay?”

“Never.” Mark and I say.

Then he’s gone.

It takes a few minutes for it to sink in for the two of us. For us to realize this boy, who was speaking a few minutes ago and laughing with us yesterday, was gone forever. I look up to see Mark distraught with the same realisation, “It’s not fair. He was just a kid.”

“I can’t just leave him here. He deserves better than that.” I agree with Mark’s words. Looking around, I spot violet, blue, and white wildflowers. I began loading my arms up with the flowers. With Mark’s help, we placed the flowers all around him.

How dare they. It’s shameful that they would do this to an innocent child. Not just him, but all of us children.

Placing my arm on his shoulder, I try to comfort Mark. Like a switch going off, he bursts into tears. I know it has been hard, the weight of caring for three people. I wrap him in my arms and cry with him.

It’s only before we leave does he turn around suddenly. After kissing his three fingers, he held them out in his direction. Myself doing the same, we both say goodbye to our friend, Chenle.

[sparkmender]

Close Encounters two and three are now up. Three’s text below (as chap. 2 is the above image + a transcript)

ao3 link click here!

She might be speeding. Just a little.

The occasion called for it, in her opinion, but what was she supposed to tell a cop if she was pulled over? ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Officer, I just want to get home and make sure my boyfriend hasn’t been eaten alive by some sort of massive prehistoric gorilla creature?’

The winding road back down to town felt impossibly long as it stretched out before her, branches and tree trunks whipping past and morphing into one long oppressive blur. Even the radio, tuned to some inane early evening talkshow broadcast with its meaningless chatter and happy voices, wasn’t doing anything to calm her down.

Charlie gripped the steering wheel of her Bug a little tighter, enough to make the skin of her knuckles turn pale, to keep her hands from trembling. Samson had mentioned he was going to fill out an incident report on their way back over to the office, especially since if that sinkhole they’d spotted really was as large as it looked they were going to need to get some heavy-duty equipment out to figure out what was going on with it.

There were the other broken trees to consider, too, and more of those clumps of fur, but what had caught Charlie’s attention— and yet had only gotten the briefest of glances from Samson and which Spike hadn’t even stopped to look at— were the scratches in the ground and on some of the boulders and surrounding trees not only around the wildflower patch but on most of the path leading up to where the rockslide happened.

Whatever had made those marks was doing it on purpose. There was no other explanation. The scratches were repeating themselves, some sort of half-wild writing, maybe, but they were definitely meant as a message. And it was a message Charlie was desperate not to know the meaning of, because something deep in the lizard part of her brain knew whatever it was, it probably wasn’t going to be a friendly greeting.

And Samson was going to send her out tomorrow morning to check on the apiary up there like he hadn’t even seen anything other than the unfortunate tumble of shale and granite in the way.

Despite every fibre of her flight or fight response screaming at her to run home and grab Memo and catch the next flight back to Colorado, she knew she’d have to go. If not, it wasn’t unlikely that some civilian camper might wander out too far and… not come back. At least Spike would be with her. God, she missed college; the Rockies themselves might have been unforgiving at times, but they were beautiful, and she missed being within an hour’s drive of the ski slopes on the weekends.

Oregon had mountains, sure, and Mt. Bachelor’s slopes, but Mt. Bachelor wasn’t Aspen.

Something bellowed further down the road, out of the range of her headlights, sounding like an elk. Charlie slowed almost to a crawl at the noise, not a stranger to spotting some of the deer or moose wandering across the old two-lane road but not particularly eager to have to engage with any of them. Moose especially could be stubborn, and she didn’t have the time to linger on waiting for it to either get a move on or go back the way it came. It was already past dusk, so Memo was probably starting to put the latest article he’d written down for the night so he could get a start on reheating the leftover spaghetti bolognese Charlie had prepped for them both on Saturday and frozen in the nice tupperware she’d had to order from a catalogue.

He’d been childishly excited about getting to pick out the jar of spaghetti sauce when they went shopping together. The memory of it was almost enough to keep her on just this side of the speed limi—

And then something huge and black and purple and screaming hit the passenger side of her car with a deafening shatter of both windows and half of her windshield, the sudden impact jolting her forward against her seatbelt and causing it to jam hard across her chest as her head thumped back against the headrest with a dull thwack. She had just enough time to scream back at it before her Volkswagen was forced off the road proper, the hood crumpling on impact with the rock shelf to the left and giving out with a pathetic, strained groan.

“Shit! Shit, shit—”

Between the sudden lack of light and the seatbelt strap digging into her and refusing to disengage, Charlie was practically a sitting duck if whatever the fuck that screaming thing was decided to take another pass at her, and she couldn’t see or hear it and hadn’t seen where it went but from the brief split-second look she’d gotten of it the thing had looked like a massive, mutated wasp with a human face and huge wasps with human faces were not a thing that existed.

There was that strange sound again, much closer, definitely not a moose, and the seatbelt unlocked and Charlie threw herself out of the car just in time for the… the wasp-person to make a charge at the Beetle again, slamming down on the roof in a furious rush of limbs and wings. She could barely make sense of it in the rapidly deepening dark of the woods, only belatedly realizing some of the glass from the initial impact had cut into her arm and thigh when she felt the hot seep of blood down the side of her pants leg.

Goddamn it, she only has two of these uniforms.

As the violent thing thrashed against the car and punched through the remains of the windshield, the horn went off, which enraged the massive purple and black insect more— it was intent on pulling the car apart, as far as Charlie could tell, but it was completely ignoring the fleshy, bleeding passenger the Volkswagen had spat out. Distantly, Charlie realized the creature was— speaking, shouting, something, but if the hissing and rounded consonants and clicks were a language it was flowing over her like water, incomprehensible beneath the buzz of massive, beating insect wings and the dying splutters of her poor Beetle.

At least, it was ignoring her until she rolled over and tried to push herself up, but her leg wasn’t having any of it and Charlie gasped despite herself, and the wasp-monster froze.

On her knees and probably concussed and definitely losing blood, she swayed, staring up at surprisingly frightened red eyes in return. They were huge and luminous and bizarrely humanoid in a face that, otherwise, was entirely alien; the wasp-person’s (wasp… man’s? wasp lady’s? Actually, who cared) bottom jaw split down the middle into wicked looking mandibles, which twitched and scraped against each other as it jerked back and fled off into the canopy.

What right did this thing have to be afraid of her? It had appeared out of midair, screaming, and wrecked the car she’d spent most of her teenage years saving up for! All she’d done is scream back at it and bleed a little!  

It was gone, anyway, leaving Charlie stranded in the middle of the road with the remains of her Beetle and strange, floating flickers in front of her eyes, like static on the television set.

That’s probably shock setting in, actually. She had classes about first aid, but she can’t remember any of it now, not in the moment when she’s the one hurt and everything feels like it’s happening thirty feet away and underwater. There wasn’t anything to be done about it, other than using the intact door of the Volkswagen to pull herself up so she can strip her uniform shirt off and tear the mostly shredded sleeve free to use it as a makeshift tourniquet while keeping her eyes open in case the—

Winged person… thing. It shimmered, even in the low moonlight, and it made her head ache, but she keeps getting stuck on the eyes. First the blue ones in her window, now the red ones, and there’s some sort of weird glitter all over everything. Charlie sniffles, fighting off the urge to rub her face in favor of yanking the flashlight off of her belt to hold it up.

The glittery dust smeared near the cut on her arm from how she pulled herself up tingles, a little, and as she watches it the cut clots over into an angry looking scab.

Charlie nearly drops the flashlight.

“What the hell. What the hell, is this pixie dust? This isn’t happening. Okay, I hit my head harder than I thought when I hit some kind of animal and now I’m dying. I’m dying and nobody’s even going to find my dead body until tomorrow morning. Go Charlie, hallucinating some kind of fucked-up fairy in the middle of dying!” She seethed, but seeing as she wasn’t immediately, like, actively dying, and there didn’t seem to be any other problems with the snarled-looking scab on her arm other than the fact that it looked kind of awful… Leaning against the rock wall her Beetle had been thrown into, Charlie grits her teeth and feels around the cut in her leg to pull out a— smaller than she’d thought, bigger than she’d hoped— shard of glass before swiping her other hand over the roof of her ruined car and slapping the palmful of gathered glitter onto the gash.

This is the stupidest thing she’s ever done, but honestly? It was try this and limp back to the base and campground or sit here and bleed out, or worse, deal with the Tooth Fairy coming back and finishing her off.

The air rushes out of her lungs in a low huff but… It doesn’t hurt. The warm, slippery feeling tapers off, at least, and even if she can’t get herself to look down at it just gently prodding at it confirms that it sealed the wound closed.

Right. No idea how she’s going to explain this to an EMT.

Or Memo.

What the hell was she going to tell Memo?

Her flashlight flickered worryingly. Charlie bit her lip, looking over the wreck that had once been her Volkswagon. Nothing to be done for it, or taken from it, really. She’d refused to so much as keep snacks in the glove compartment after finding bees under the hood, once.

“…Right.”

The beam steadied and she straightened up as best as she could before setting off back the way she came, staring out at the branches— though something told her that if her fairy godmother was coming back, she’d hear that eerie, hollow sound again first.

Well, fine. Let it come back. Maybe she’ll scream at it again, but louder this time, and show it what for.